(no subject)
some things change, and some things stay the same.
i can't believe the person i've turned into. i'm impressed... yet, at the same time. i feel so foreign sometimes. guys are so surprised by the things they find out about me here. well, what did you expect? i am not your average girl. i didn't come to the city from small town hell for no reason.
i literally escaped.
i escaped boredom, i escaped monotony, i escaped psychotic ex boyfriend, i escaped bad friends and fucking high school drama, i escaped the same fucking goddamn streets and disgusting diners and lack of culture and bad education.
i re-read old entries and i remember how trapped i felt, how useless. now i am here, with exactly what i want. and the immense relief i feel is unbelievable. it's like been built up for so long. now it's like 'ok... you're here. now what?' and i look around, and i shiver and i realize, it's absolutely up to me. and my projects, my work, the growth and the learning are so overwhelmingly shoved at me at all times that sometimes i feel like i'm gonna throw up. and my utter insecurities? no room. absolutely no room. i have to push all the time, or this place will literally eat me alive. it is a competition not for the weak of heart. be the best get the best shots impress your teachers make contacts join organizations create something that is gonna stand out over millions of talented peers go to the exhibits see the artists and the films and hear the directors speak and always, always go for it and never hold back.
and this whole guy thing. the same tricks don't work. it's not that easy anymore baby. now i just walk away. fuck you, i don't have time for your pity stories. oh, so you're a sensitive guy who's interested? don't give a shit. so you wanna get to know me? take the time or get out of my way.. i'm busy. no i'm not gonna be your dumb adoring rouse. i'm not going to be anyone's innocent little girlfriend. any. more. i'm gonna do what the fuck i want and i don't care what you think.
this is an adult world now. this is not high school. this is not childhood. be logical about things, learn to make your own fucking decisions, stop depending on people.
or maybe i just learned never to depend on other people because they will fuck you over in the end. i don't need you, despite what you think.
now i have to learn the city streets and subway routes myself and i have to learn galleries and museums and stores and libraries and how many jamba juices and starbuck's and places that are open twenty four seven and i need to know brooklyn and queens and harlem stops and the street corners and i need to learn to walk by when people try to shove pamphlets in my hands. now i have to learn the college and the facilities and my professors and my fellow students and who's talented and who's worth collaborating with. now i have to know the tisch building and which floor is which department and where the editing labs are and i need to learn my external harddrive and the slide scanner and photoshop and final cut pro and the photography department floor and the film floors and the offices of my teachers and mentors. now i have to learn overwhelming film terms and obscure films and photography skills and lighting and color and movement and framing and writers and poets and works of art and psychology and the way the brain works and experiments about rats in cages and crew work on upper classmen's films whose ideas are always interesting
and then i'm walking through the park and there's a giant trailer and electrical chords running past the fountain and they are filming some Will Smith movie and i find myself becoming more and more used to these kinds of sights like the bum outside the subway that i saw as i was walking and he was finishing up a forty and his face made me so sad i couldn't believe how depressing it was and i always want to feel i never want to become numb to this city and everything in it and the people... no matter what happens. now i see september eleventh and it burns at my heart it becomes so much more real and it makes me realize that there are tragedies bigger than me and back home it never really hit me but here it hits and the problems of the world i want to read the paper everyday and when i saw the face of the dead pitcher who crashed the plane into the building up on seventy sixth street i wanted to cry and he had a five year old daughter.
i'm sorry if i still care about my friends from back home and i take it personally when you are a flake and i have a hard time making my work perfect and slaving over details and when i can't sleep at night and the city noises keep me up and when i kiss you it might not mean anything it probably just means that i'm horny... don't take me personally and don't think i'm crude. i'd just rather use than be used. i will fight you back. i'm not taking yours or anybody's shit. i will punch you the fuck out before i will let you insult me to my face. i feel myself becoming tougher because what else can i be? i am completely alone here. this city is so big. these sights these sounds i don't know how to describe everything i'm feeling every day. i am not on a fucking sprawling campus with frat parties. i am in the upper east side of mahattan. i am so minimized by how big everything actually is. yet i'm fighting to keep sight of myself and the things i love. don't let me forget you.
i can't believe the person i've turned into. i'm impressed... yet, at the same time. i feel so foreign sometimes. guys are so surprised by the things they find out about me here. well, what did you expect? i am not your average girl. i didn't come to the city from small town hell for no reason.
i literally escaped.
i escaped boredom, i escaped monotony, i escaped psychotic ex boyfriend, i escaped bad friends and fucking high school drama, i escaped the same fucking goddamn streets and disgusting diners and lack of culture and bad education.
i re-read old entries and i remember how trapped i felt, how useless. now i am here, with exactly what i want. and the immense relief i feel is unbelievable. it's like been built up for so long. now it's like 'ok... you're here. now what?' and i look around, and i shiver and i realize, it's absolutely up to me. and my projects, my work, the growth and the learning are so overwhelmingly shoved at me at all times that sometimes i feel like i'm gonna throw up. and my utter insecurities? no room. absolutely no room. i have to push all the time, or this place will literally eat me alive. it is a competition not for the weak of heart. be the best get the best shots impress your teachers make contacts join organizations create something that is gonna stand out over millions of talented peers go to the exhibits see the artists and the films and hear the directors speak and always, always go for it and never hold back.
and this whole guy thing. the same tricks don't work. it's not that easy anymore baby. now i just walk away. fuck you, i don't have time for your pity stories. oh, so you're a sensitive guy who's interested? don't give a shit. so you wanna get to know me? take the time or get out of my way.. i'm busy. no i'm not gonna be your dumb adoring rouse. i'm not going to be anyone's innocent little girlfriend. any. more. i'm gonna do what the fuck i want and i don't care what you think.
this is an adult world now. this is not high school. this is not childhood. be logical about things, learn to make your own fucking decisions, stop depending on people.
or maybe i just learned never to depend on other people because they will fuck you over in the end. i don't need you, despite what you think.
now i have to learn the city streets and subway routes myself and i have to learn galleries and museums and stores and libraries and how many jamba juices and starbuck's and places that are open twenty four seven and i need to know brooklyn and queens and harlem stops and the street corners and i need to learn to walk by when people try to shove pamphlets in my hands. now i have to learn the college and the facilities and my professors and my fellow students and who's talented and who's worth collaborating with. now i have to know the tisch building and which floor is which department and where the editing labs are and i need to learn my external harddrive and the slide scanner and photoshop and final cut pro and the photography department floor and the film floors and the offices of my teachers and mentors. now i have to learn overwhelming film terms and obscure films and photography skills and lighting and color and movement and framing and writers and poets and works of art and psychology and the way the brain works and experiments about rats in cages and crew work on upper classmen's films whose ideas are always interesting
and then i'm walking through the park and there's a giant trailer and electrical chords running past the fountain and they are filming some Will Smith movie and i find myself becoming more and more used to these kinds of sights like the bum outside the subway that i saw as i was walking and he was finishing up a forty and his face made me so sad i couldn't believe how depressing it was and i always want to feel i never want to become numb to this city and everything in it and the people... no matter what happens. now i see september eleventh and it burns at my heart it becomes so much more real and it makes me realize that there are tragedies bigger than me and back home it never really hit me but here it hits and the problems of the world i want to read the paper everyday and when i saw the face of the dead pitcher who crashed the plane into the building up on seventy sixth street i wanted to cry and he had a five year old daughter.
i'm sorry if i still care about my friends from back home and i take it personally when you are a flake and i have a hard time making my work perfect and slaving over details and when i can't sleep at night and the city noises keep me up and when i kiss you it might not mean anything it probably just means that i'm horny... don't take me personally and don't think i'm crude. i'd just rather use than be used. i will fight you back. i'm not taking yours or anybody's shit. i will punch you the fuck out before i will let you insult me to my face. i feel myself becoming tougher because what else can i be? i am completely alone here. this city is so big. these sights these sounds i don't know how to describe everything i'm feeling every day. i am not on a fucking sprawling campus with frat parties. i am in the upper east side of mahattan. i am so minimized by how big everything actually is. yet i'm fighting to keep sight of myself and the things i love. don't let me forget you.