Diamonds on the floor.
Life definitely works well at changing everything in my life so quickly. I feel like I'm constantly having to reevaulate everything in my life from the people that supposedly love me to the events I can't never seem to control. And I find myself sinking into that mindset, of just throwing my hands up and saying, "I can't take no more" But I have to keep pulling myself up and I can't seem to tell any one soul everything that is going on. So I find myself going to different people each letting them only know a small piece of the bigger picture. And I think its possible to piece all those confessions into a whole. I try to not analyze the fact that so many times, I just don't know what I am doing. I really don't. It feels good to keep trying though, it lightens the weight on my shoulders. But at the same time I'm just tired. Nothing is stable, and I thought that I was perfect at the unstability, cause when as anything in my life been stable? But I realize I crave that sense of permanence. I want to say that this is my future and here the steps to the door. I want that and I keep missing it by the smallest amount of worthwhile indiscretions. But I'm still trying. I keep writing that, because that is contant. Oh what the hell. I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying. trying trying trying trying
Lets try something harder. Harder than typing, "trying" over and over again. While the word is momentarily satisfying, it's not what I mean to leave with. Lets start with something simple. Descriptions. I can do that. I keep smiling at my mother all day long. She frowns at me back. But I keep smiling at her. A couple of times I even got her to laugh today, or I suppose I mean yesterday. It's a little victory that matters to me. I didn't see anyone today, but my parents and my nephew Samuel. My nephews really like me when I'm kind to them. I can be really bitchy when I'm not in a good mood. I'm not directly mean to them. I'm just trying to be alone and will do anything to make you not want to be around me. I guess that isn't really just the qualifications for my bad moods, maybe my hermit good ones too. I miss writing. I talked to a lot of people on the phone today. I really don't like talking on the phone. It's so much more awkward to me than in person. I worry that I sound like a little girl on the phone. I don't have a husky, sexy voice. OHH
There is this one Indian girl I wanted to write about. I met her in San Francisco this last weekend. She reminded me of this character I often seen in novels about "modern" Indian girls. She seem to be all "enlightened" and chain smoked. She was a aspiring fashion designer that like "jamin" with pot heads in Berkeley. She was intriguing to me. I don't know why. It wasn't her looks or her words. I think it was, because she was so lost. I think when you meet people you can figure out how steady they are within themseleves. And with her, it seemed like she placed all these interesting things and people around her, but none of it was home. While standing on her balconey, I said, "I think she misses home. I think she misses India. And she wants its back. The culture, traditions, and the rules even" To her that probably would have sounded ridiculous, because who the hell wants that back when they could have the modern life in San Francisco. She wouldn't want to consider that it was really okay to want what she left behind. She moving to New York to continue her fashion designer dreams. I hope she makes it, but only because I think there is only a slight chance that she will realizes what she wants and when she does (if that is) she might think its too late. At least she will have something to fall back on when that time comes. A lot of things can help steady ourselves a little, not enough, but something.
Night.
Lets try something harder. Harder than typing, "trying" over and over again. While the word is momentarily satisfying, it's not what I mean to leave with. Lets start with something simple. Descriptions. I can do that. I keep smiling at my mother all day long. She frowns at me back. But I keep smiling at her. A couple of times I even got her to laugh today, or I suppose I mean yesterday. It's a little victory that matters to me. I didn't see anyone today, but my parents and my nephew Samuel. My nephews really like me when I'm kind to them. I can be really bitchy when I'm not in a good mood. I'm not directly mean to them. I'm just trying to be alone and will do anything to make you not want to be around me. I guess that isn't really just the qualifications for my bad moods, maybe my hermit good ones too. I miss writing. I talked to a lot of people on the phone today. I really don't like talking on the phone. It's so much more awkward to me than in person. I worry that I sound like a little girl on the phone. I don't have a husky, sexy voice. OHH
There is this one Indian girl I wanted to write about. I met her in San Francisco this last weekend. She reminded me of this character I often seen in novels about "modern" Indian girls. She seem to be all "enlightened" and chain smoked. She was a aspiring fashion designer that like "jamin" with pot heads in Berkeley. She was intriguing to me. I don't know why. It wasn't her looks or her words. I think it was, because she was so lost. I think when you meet people you can figure out how steady they are within themseleves. And with her, it seemed like she placed all these interesting things and people around her, but none of it was home. While standing on her balconey, I said, "I think she misses home. I think she misses India. And she wants its back. The culture, traditions, and the rules even" To her that probably would have sounded ridiculous, because who the hell wants that back when they could have the modern life in San Francisco. She wouldn't want to consider that it was really okay to want what she left behind. She moving to New York to continue her fashion designer dreams. I hope she makes it, but only because I think there is only a slight chance that she will realizes what she wants and when she does (if that is) she might think its too late. At least she will have something to fall back on when that time comes. A lot of things can help steady ourselves a little, not enough, but something.
Night.