String the lights and queue the orchestra

I never thought I'd be the kind of person who wanted marriage, who wanted to wake up next to someone, who wanted to hold hands and share hot chocolate because I love hot chocolate too much to share.

But maybe it's something that I want on the back burner. It's something I would like to have if I found the right person, who makes me feel sane and who makes the world play the piano forte in my head when I see him. It's not something that I have to have. It would be nice, to find the person who would help me grow that way.

It would be nice to find that person who gets me when I'm drunk and sober and pensive and not. It would be nice, if I ever met that person who doesn't need me and who I don't need. We don't need each other and we don't complete each other and we don't die without each other and we don't have everything without each other.

String the lights and queue the orchestra to our wedding if we find each other, but I'm not too bummed otherwise.

Complexities convoluted consciences

I feel as if I am at constant war with myself, battling between what I know and what I continue to forget. I'm struggling to remember that it is okay to fail. It is okay to fall down because it gives me one more chance to stand up again. I fail to remember that all great discoveries are born from mountains of disappointments. I fail to remember that greatnesss coincides with weaknesses and fear and disparity.

This battle...I'm fighting a battle that I cannot call losing and not yet winning. I see no end, but I know there must be one for me. I'm struggling with myself and it's hard and that must be okay. It has to be okay. I have to be okay to get through this because so many people count on me to succeed. I have to remember the Peace Corps and the lives they save. I have to remember my parents and my life they saved. I have to remember where I came from and where I want to go in order to stay sane where I am. For my sake, for right now, I need to be okay. At least for just a second before it turns into a minute then an hour then a day, a month, and a year...maybe then a decade. I'm fighting this battle of contradictions in myself. The self-loathing and the confidence. The philosopher and the physicist. The natural state of disorder and then evolution of togetherness. It's all a big responsibility. I'm scared that I see failure when I look in the mirror. I am afraid to come home to the people who love me because I am afraid that I have failed them. I am afraid to break their hearts again, their spirits again as mine did when I looked in the mirror today.

Sabbatical Sunday

More like Sadist Sunday.

Somehow I've managed to have fun all week without even realizing it! Come today and I realize that I've got homework, laundry, and dishes. I guess I really must haul ass to the land of responsibility.

Yesterday, however, was really spectacular! My roommate and I went to the John Berggruen Gallery to see the Chuck Close exhibit. I didn't get any pictures because I was too chicken to ask the receptionist to use my camera, but here's a sample of his art:

Emma, 2002

"Kara", 2012

A photograph of self-portraits

Like I said, it was pretty spectacular. I read about him when I was in elementary school, but I never thought I'd see his work in real life until the other day when I saw his exhibit available downtown! He's in a wheelchair, but he paints portraits on these giant canvases using the grid, color-layering, and pixels.  Read more about him here and here. He's a bad motherfucker, and I strive to be a bad mother fucker. Chuck Close once said, "Painting for me is like putting rocks in your shoes before you go out on a journey. It's about making things a little more difficult for yourself so that you know where you are going, but you never really know how you're going to get there."

I don't really know how I will get all my work done today, but I know that I will get it done. Happy Sunday, folks.

Anthropologie Thanksgiving

I went to a therapy shopping session the other day after flunking my Physics midterm. There's something so satisfying about trying on millions and millions of dresses and shoes even if you can't have all of it. After making a pit stop at DAVIDsTEA for their mint chocolate rooibos, I was ready for a long long long stroll down the strip of paradise.

Every big city as their own Avenue des Champs Élysées where every thing glistens and feels wonderful intertwined with the smoke and piss of subways. I loved it in France as much as I love it in San Francisco. And as I walked down the aisles of paradise, a dress in Anthropologie's window caught my eye.

Perfection. Made me miss nude pumps and dinner parties.

Scary City

Today's Halloween. I've watched too much Carrie Diaries to be fully satisfied with sitting on my ass on Halloween in San Francisco. The dilemma goes whether or not I should hit the Castro and meet the city on the scariest night of the year. I wouldn't even know what to wear.

It's been awhile since I've blogged anything of my own and wrote just to write. I'm tired of being scared of whatever it is I was afraid of. I should go out tonight.