NOTE ; 2011 RESOLUTIONS

Only a handful of hours left until 2011 (which some people are touting as the start of a new decade...um, no), then it's January & time is going to start warping into hyperspeed again.

So after days of taking out & adding new resolutions, here's my final list of goals going into the new year...

- Get an A or A- average spring semester.

- Take handwritten (not typed) notes in class.

- Update all my blogs regularly (especially this one).

- Build up Adobe CS & web design skills.

- Find my direction in life (...oh)

- Be more involved in CKS & Bare.

- Find a part-time job or internship for the summer.

- Hone Korean speaking skills.

- Stay positive & keep looking forward.

- Don't be so nosy.

- Stop eating so much in one sitting.

- Clean right away.

- Follow Fashion Week.

- Document outfits every day.

- Go thrift shopping more often.

- Wear heels more.

- Explore SF/East Bay every other week.

- Watch classic movies at the Media Resources Center.

All in all a very typical lengthy list of resolutions, of which I expect to keep about half. Actually it won't even feel like a new year until I go back to school & start all over, which is when I have to get out of my hibernation blanket burrito state & start being an active human being again. And less than two weeks it is...

So it's time to get ready, have a couple more drama marathons & sleep until noon, & revise my schedule on Telebears so many times that I end up waitlisted for every single class of mine.

photo | ayco311 ; flickr

MEME ; DAY 17 - LOOK BACK ON 2010.

DAY 17: Look back on this last year and talk about it.

I skipped a good 14 days on this meme (maybe I'll get back to it sometime, emphasis on the maybe) but considering I write about a good portion of those prompts anyway, it's no matter that I gave it up.

And so here approaches the last few days of 2010. I haven't reflected on a past year in a while; usually I'm stuck in a frenzy of changing and dreaming of the future, something that I am doing right now (of course) since I'm in the midst of a mental breakdown of "what am i doing with my future" "why do i give up on everything seemingly hard" "where am i going" & "what happened to good old life-goals-totally-set carolyn." This cycle of making and revamping the same old resolutions every year is completely pointless, so some much needed reflection is underway.

2010...

- I became way way more "Korean" so to say, which clearly had no impact on my "2nd generation" pronunciation but my eyes don't glaze over long paragraphs of Korean plus I know a lot more slang than I wish to. Not to mention a lot of society/cultural/political news, thank you CKS.

- I got a lot of mediocre grades. This is probably 50% not going to lecture, 30% laziness, and only about 20% me being stupid. Still disappointing.

- I read a lot more fashion blogs this year. Went through ring & shoe phases. Cut my hair into blunt bangs.

- I had multiple identity crises, college major & minor changes, & lots of stressing out about the future.

- I weaned myself off the internet a little. A little.

- I spent way too much money on karaoke.

- I was too uninvolved in the things I was involved in (does this even make sense?)

- I travelled alone for the first time.

- I started vacancied & blogged pretty consistently on an unread blog, albeit giving up my dead horse creative fiction writing attempts.

And that's it. An all-in-all okay year, but I'm jumping at the prospect of the new & shiny, aka 2011, but talk of the new shall come tomorrow. Here's to the last day of 2010.

photo | beverly e. ; flickr

MEME ; DAY 3 - PICK A SONG.

DAY 3: Pick a song that projects the same mood as your day or week & explain.

"High High" - G-Dragon & T.O.P

I only can dream of wishing that this song reflected my day/week (crazy extravagant parties in Seoul, yes please?) but no, unfortunately the only reasons I chose this were that a) I repeated this nonstop in the library while studying for finals & b) there are just no legitimate songs about studying, plus that would make for a really lame entry.

I know this has nothing to do with my 'mood', but I am nothing short of obsessed with this music video, in both good & bad ways. I haven't replayed a MV that much in a while, especially when there's no catchy choreography to accompany it. It isn't just because GD & T.O.P are ridiculously good looking, or the fact that I've been cooped up in an underground library the entire week wanting out. The thing that really gets me about this video (& hence song too, in a sense) is how cool Korea has gotten - or rather, how that "cool" is portrayed.

I'm not sure if it's this built-in ethnic stereotype that I have being born & bred as an American, or the fact that Korea has a conservative image that it usually upholds (because it is conservative, compared to other Westernized countries) but this song is just so BAMF & shoves all the swag of YG Entertainment up in our faces. I don't really see Korea having a problem with this song or video (I'm amused at the number of Youtube comments fighting over whether "high high" means smoking weed: even if it were, those who knew the reference wouldn't care, & the rest would be too blind to see it) but the problem I see in it (& maybe just me) is the blatant Westernization of it all.

Come on. It would've already been enough Westernization to go around just filming a club, any club in Korea, but they picked foreigner-central Itaewon for a reason. It looks like GD, T.O.P & a handful of his friends crashed a NYC club, since evidently they're the only Koreans/Asians getting screentime. And not only are the foreigners not Korean or Asian, they're all white. Yeah, more of the same "you need to be white to be cool." I'm being so indignant about this because I can't stand that after the 20th or so time I rewatched this, I felt like maybe I needed to be white to even try to hang out with the likes of Big Bang. And that's just ridiculous.

Listen, Korea is cool enough as it is. Koreans know how to party & hold their liquor &...oh please. I am just disappointed that I have to rail against fellow Koreans for perpetuating a "I want to be white" mentality. As catchy as I think this song is (& as much as I adore everything else about this video), I can't help but feel let down.

(And yes, I realize this has nothing to do with what the meme asked but I need to keep moving on to finish before 2011. Goals goals goals.)

video | "high high" mv ; youtube

MEME ; DAY 2 - WHERE ARE YOU NOW?

DAY 2: Where have you been spending your time lately? Three/five/ten years ago would you have expected to be there?

The precise answer to this question would be underground in Main Stacks (aka the library...) but that's a pretty boring answer (did I expect to be in a library ten years ago? Considering I planned to go to college I'd say yes) I'm going to go with a broader answer here.

It's already been 1 & 1/2 years that I've been at Berkeley, a place I swore I never ever ever wanted to be. My entire childhood I had dreams of the East Coast or the Midwest (anywhere but here), I had dreams of private school, I had dreams of perpetuating the white-washed environment I grew up in. Berkeley was none of those things. Not only was it an hour away by plane, it housed ridiculous numbers of Asians (apparently it's 45.7% now, a clear majority out of any ethnicity). The only college I dreaded more than Berkeley was UCLA, which had all the same characteristics and, as a spectacular cherry on top, was less than an hour away...by car (being a half hour drive away from home was, & still is, pretty much a god-awful nightmare).

Till the very last moment spring semester of senior year, I still had no dreams of going to Berkeley. My attitude had changed from nowayinhell to iguessifthatsthelastresort, but when it came down to it: Berkeley vs. Northwestern: I was championing Northwestern so, so much. It got to the point where I read their student newsmagazine every single morning and wrote pages & pages about how I wanted to go there so badly (dreams of Chicago, the L, the publications, the time difference).

In the end money was the deciding factor, as it usually is (people also tried to convince me by making a big deal out of the Chicago weather, which I guess I would've bitched about...a lot). I didn't have any big qualms over coming here, but time to time I still wonder what it would've been like to go to Northwestern. Not so much "would I be happier there?" but more like, "how different would my life be right now?"

Am I glad I am where I am now? So, so much. There are so many things I've discovered through all the different people I've met (super cheesy sentence but it can't be helped), so many different opportunities I've been given, and I've realized an hour plane ride is definitely far enough away from home. Yes, school is ridiculously hard (and more than the material itself being ridiculously hard, it is ridiculously hard to get /good grades/) and I am made to feel inferior every day by all the geniuses around me, but that's alright. My laziness needs a kick in the ass every so often so I can get to work (which should be right now, three days before my finals).

And so it goes. The 13-year-old self would've hated to see me be here at Berkeley, but teenagers are bratty blind beings anyway.

photo | southerncal88 ; flickr

MUSE ; XMAS WISHLIST 2010

(my first foray into polyvore, forgive me if it looks grotesque)

top: uo moustache socks ($8) & other cutesy knee highs; proenza schouler ps1 medium bag in black & brown ($1485); acne atacoma knockoffs ($38); antique typewriter; chanel nail polish in black satin, nouvelle vague, & gold lame ($25 each)

bottom: hi-tec c pens in .25 or .3 ($1 each); moleskine plain cahier journal kraft large ($12 for 3); vera wang princess eau de toilette ($27); lula magazine ($32); pierrot le fou dvd ($34); doc martens ($100)

MEME ; DAY 1 - WHO ARE YOU?

I have been hunting for a while for a decent meme to do here, mainly because I'm lazy & need prompts & that's precisely what a meme provides. I finally found a somewhat decent one & whittled it down to 17 (coincides with the end of 2010 + a few leeway days & other excuses/reasons that really are just bullshit ways of saying no way am I going to divulge in social life on my public blog). Here's the whole meme for reference, and here we go.

DAY 1: Who are you? In comparison to who you used to be. What made you change?

I love answering this question. At one point in high school I was addicted to changing my Myspace about me every month, writing long paragraphs about how ~sassy~ I was (don't worry, I'm snorting at myself too). I know this makes me sound incredibly narcissistic or vain, which could be true, but it's more of the fact that it gives an appropriate forum for me to talk about myself, something I never do unless prompted to.

This question is asking how I've changed though, and suffice it to say that I don't really believe any of my defining characteristics have really changed. I talked about this briefly in a previous post; though my circumstances have changed greatly, my friends are completely new, & on the outside I am just so...so different, once words come tumbling out of my mouth (if they do, that is) you'll hear the same snide jokes, you'll get the same deflective answers, you'll see the same apathetic face.

It drives me up the wall when people assume that hanging out with different kinds of people or taking on new interests means you've "lost yourself" along the way, that this new place has messed with you. Maybe with others, but no, not me. Real change to me is if I were to become a nice conservative, outwardly polite Korean girl, one that's brash & throws obnoxious questions at strangers, but no. I'm still the same liberal girl too shy to ask for anything.

So yes, following your definition of change, I have changed. I have flipped 180 degrees, whole-heartedly embracing my ethnicity whereas I vehemently denied it to the core a couple years ago. I care about Korean current events, I follow their pop culture, I may have even Koreanized my fashion style a bit (blame pretty models & cheap clothes for that). And if that's deep down change to you, then so be it.

Moving on to the actual who are you part, I'll list this out like statistics on a baseball card (there's really no natural way to talk about yourself without looking like a douche). I am an INFP to the core. I'm a bit sensitive to criticism (not defensive, but sensitive) & have unreasonable expectations of others (part of why I just figure it best to not bother at all). I suck at debating with others. I don't talk about myself ever, to a point where you would have to pry out something pent up inside (after which everything just comes tumbling out). I use sarcasm as a sign of friendliness. I'm a cynic, I'm too honest, and I can't hide emotions from my face. I hate looking desperate or needy more than anything. I have a penchant for personal writing, clean typography, random lists, cheap clothes, fashion illustrations, memoirs, female rock, bad pop music, ethereal cinematography, & 90s romcoms. Basically I sound like every insecure indie wannabe 15 year old girl on Tumblr, an amusingly sad diagnosis on my part.

photo | posternaks ; flickr

PERS ; NEVER SEE MY SHADE OR HEAR THE SOUND OF MY FEET.

i feel it coming.

it's been a while that i've felt like this - a sinking feeling of my greatest fear being proven over & over, served to me on a big platter of "i told you so," making me feel so aware of the lone footsteps & panting breath that follow me back home every night. mine, just mine.

yes, it's happening: detaching myself from anyone & everyone, going into winter hibernation. people that have, in reality, done nothing wrong, but my false perception of people caring, of people worrying over someone other than themselves, something i can't even do myself - people have hurt me, unsurprising because frankly, with my super high expectations, how couldn't i be hurt?

i know i'm being unreasonable, i know i have to take the first step, i know this, i know this. i know we as humans are insecure at heart, i know we want everyone to care for us before we start to open up & care for them. i know no one wants to be hurt, & opening up? being vulnerable? fastest track to heartache 101. so i know others' apathy shouldn't surprise me, but it still doesn't ease the pangs of sadness infused in anger whenever they greet me in half-hearted 'hi's. when they are visibly uneasy over my presence. when they are talking with me & we can both feel the tension. i get it, i'm overanalyzing every single detail, but the slight chance that it's really what they're thinking - that really, truly, they don't want me around - it's those small odds that bring me to this moment every time.

i get that i'm being foolish when i get disappointed that when i spend a day home alone i get no texts, no calls, no nothing. that when i see someone, anyone, they're always walking with someone else, have plans with someone else, while i, i'm alone. i know it's my fault (i would much rather have it be my fault) that i'm not the one who's reaching out, that i'm perfectly capable of asking others, that i could, i should learn to care first, & then people will follow. & i beg that it's my fault - that it's me, me because i'm not calling you first, not you because you really don't like me for me. & that's really the essence of the whole thing.

i feel it coming.

succumbing to the fact that it's easier to live in a closed off hermitlike shell, cutting off contact in fear that no one likes me for me, cares about me for me, wants me for me. because i hear you, you don't like how quietly i talk, how snarky and blunt and rude i am, how i wear my hair, how far i live. yes, it was good for a while, a temporary while, a while that gave me all the hope that this cycle could be over this time. yet here i am receding once again, maybe this time understanding the impact of being vulnerable first. reaching out first. being a friend first. but honestly, i don't know how strong i am to do that. because like you, like all of us, i put on a strong mean front but i, we are all broken inside.

so i may look pathetic to you, i may look weak, & you may not understand me. but i'll just sum it up with some lines from the hercules movie (because if a disney movie can understand me, why can't you?)

"sometimes, it's better to be alone."

"what do you mean?"

"nobody can hurt you."

playing | "moon over bourbon street" - winterplay

photo | autumnfingers ; flickr

MUSE ; ANY ONE WAY, ANY ANY ONE ONE WAY.

do you ever wonder if you're the only one?

when you spend your wasted time envisioning a better life, placing yourself in circumstances. front row at your favorite concert. walking the halls of the louvre in silence. having your own column every month. living by yourself, free of all ties that have bogged you down. being where you wanted to be, being surrounded by all the opportunities you've ever wanted.

& finding that it just wasn't as special as it seemed.

you know you're not the only one.

it seems to you that everyone has a decent amount of friends circling them, somebody ready to hang out on a whim - as do you. but aside from the small number of outliers you can also perceive that these are just friends, not friends. people you could wake up & rant to any time at night. people you could bestow your greatest secrets to, & people who wouldn't change their attitude towards you because of it. people who you don't have to fear. above all, the one word that haunts us all, people you can trust. you can see you're not the only one - there's plenty more of you where you came from.

so why, why are we still struggling? still searching? for more, for more?

something tangible, something true.

you know you're qualified, you know you can accomplish things in this world. you got in here, in fact, so there must be something decent, something worthy. you can churn out grades when you feel like (when you really...do...feel like), sure; never mind that other people can do it better. never mind that someone else can study better, suck up better, treat others better, sing better, dance better, write better, be better. you know you're alright, you know you're enough...

am i enough? enough to stop comparing? enough to stop the jealousy?

when worries surpass you.

it's those words repeated over & over again to you when you voice your concerns. why worry about the future? why dream up these big sequences in which every possible scenario will falter, go wrong? why think of failure, set yourself up failure? why, why, why not just live in the present? let things be?

because good things don't last.

because if i don't think of this now, i will crash & burn even harder when it does.

because i don't believe, it is so hard for me to believe, that happiness could just be.

playing | "mach" - rainbow

photo | alison scarpulla ; flickr

PERS ; A MODERN GIRL BUT I FOLD IN HALF.

when i fall, i fall hard.

i'm not just talking about friends or crushes (although i'm sure that applies, it just happens way less frequently). i mean all the things i love to do, the passions & hobbies i get swept up & consumed in. the bands i adore, the clubs i'm in, the mundane websites i browse through on late nights like these - i discover something i know i'll love, & it takes & eats up all of me. the prospect of something new, the prospect of change: i'll chase it time & time again.

the best (or worst) part of it all is how quickly i try to become an "expert" on whatever my new flavor of the week is. if i find a new artist i like i'll replay all their albums until i grow sick of them. i'll read old articles & dig through search results on the strangest of subjects. it's as if my mind wants to catalog every single piece of information right now. & so i get ahead of myself, spending hours & hours on this new "obsession" until i stumble onto the next.

perhaps this is why i've been called a poser before. i'm not trying to be fake though, it's just that my mind speeds up & wants to drown itself in this temporary obsession in an incredibly short amount of time, i'll admit. it's not my know-it-all attitude (as if i'd have one) but the fact that i wish i'd become a know-it-all, becoming familiar with absolutely anything & everything there is to know. trying to become a sort of expert in a matter of days as if i had been familiar with it for a matter of years. & it's this characteristic of me that is worthy of embracing but a bit too dangerous at times.

recently, what with my new "let's embrace being korean" outlook, i've been so damn sensitive to any sort of criticism or judgment people lay on me. they call my 2nd generation accent "cute" but to me it just sounds like a euphemism for "you reek of fake." people correct my grammar & i want to hang my head in shame - i know they're just trying to help, but i can't help but to feel embarrassed & unworthy. i know i've spent the past 7 years denying my ethnicity to the core, but this sudden 180 degree obsession has made me so unreasonable.

at the same time i can feel those very people who've known me all along - the ones who know how white-washed i've been - judge me with discerning eyes for the complete opposite reason. coming to college & becoming super korean, posting korean statuses left & right & making all new korean friends means i'm trying too hard, being too fake - different accusations but underlying tones all the same.

what is it exactly that i want? to become suddenly 100% fluent? to give off a 1st generation image while completely ditching my true origin? i don't want any of that - that's not who i am. then what is it that i'm chasing? what is it that i am expecting? why is it that i hurt every time someone calls me out on being less than perfect? why do i take it to heart when i'm accused of being a tryhard, a wannabe, a fake?

it's more than disheartening when people don't understand that i'm still the same person inside, no matter how much my hobbies or interests change or no matter how much i try to change in general. i make the same snarky comments in whatever language with whatever people, i write the same kinds of entries, i bitch about the same things, i'm shy & play nice with the same strangers - no matter where i am or who i'm interacting with, i'm still the same. it drives me crazy when people don't get that about me. that i love change more than anything (& i like it fast), but dig deeper & it's spelled out quite clearly that i'm still the same old slightly insecure reclusive snarky girl. & that is always going to stay the same.

playing | "pictures of success" - rilo kiley

photo | rafa castells ; flickr

PERS ; DARKNESS IS A STRANGER IN OUR LONELY LONE.

sometimes i like being left alone. i don't want to talk to you, don't want to answer your nosy questions or try to salvage a dead conversation. i don't want to spill my secrets, don't want to open up & trust you - or anyone, for that matter. sometimes i want to stay at home all day & night, surrounded only by the voices leaking out of my itunes & characters on movie screens. sometimes i like walking alone, leaving myself to wander in my own thoughts. & sometimes, yes sometimes, i can't stand being around you for more than a few hours. i need me, just me, no one else - not you.

but then there are those days i wake up from a blast of chilliness breezing through the window. i curl up inside my blanket but it's not enough. my eyes squint at the time & it's too late, already afternoon, the day half gone. i unwillingly crawl out of bed & throw myself a mix of foods salvaged from the refrigerator & shove it down. i check my phone, my email, facebook, & there's nothing new. the world around me seems to be chattering away, talking & interacting with each other, leaving me behind to observe. i crack & break, sutures slowly unwinding as i feel this facade of embracing loneliness is becoming a lie, a lie.

i am someone who tries to embrace (& does succeed at) being alone. i wouldn't bitch & whine about being alone the entire weekend, finding company in books & movies & my own thoughts. i could learn to eat alone & cook alone, experimenting all kinds of dishes & being the sole tester. & i know how to love alone, not a flighty crush but loving myself, embracing every one of my flaws that i have dug up & found. i am not scared of myself. i don't fear knowing about what hidden subconscious nightmares i have inside, knowing i have perused & trashed every single one of them. i take personality quizzes with a half heart, knowing what i'll get since i know myself best.

so it's when i crawl out of my cave & see society's expectations of finding company in everything. maybe it's just america or the world at large, but we all try to be extroverts in every way possible. chattering on is not necessarily good but at least better than not talking & shying away in the background. meals must be had with friends or family, never alone. you see that old man at the restaurant saying table for one? everyone looks at him in pity, as if he has no one else, no company whatsoever who will eat with him. to society, to everyone, being alone is a bad, bad thing. & so we embrace love, finding company in a special someone, & we endorse marriage, being tied to someone else for the rest of your life. being alone, walking alone, watching movies alone, doing anything alone (except maybe going to the bathroom) is frowned upon.

& i hate that. don't you think we should embrace a little more of ourselves before running off to anyone else? i'm not talking about narcissism or vanity, but just the experience of being comfortable with ourselves & only ourselves. to spend several days doing everything on your own, knowing independence at its greatest - no depending whatsoever on any other human, but finding your own food, entertainment, & warmth...all alone. discovering what happiness is like on your own - not through loving someone else, not through great friendships - but anything that you can uncover yourself, through yourself.

i say this time & time again but we could all learn to embrace introspection a little more. knowing yourself before than & more than anyone else is one of the most powerful things we as humans can do. because just like you might be laughing at us introverts for loving to be alone, i laugh at you for not knowing about the one thing you've been stuck with the longest - all your life, even. because the only thing you can be sure of, the only thing life can promise is that you'll be with you for as long as you live. like the never-ending clingy bitch you are, you will never let go of you. you are never going to lose you, no matter how hard you may try. you will always be stuck with you.

so do you want to live & die in the arms of a stranger, or in the arms of your best friend?

playing | "sleep alone" - bat for lashes

photo | zuru1024 ; flickr

PERS ; NON, RIEN DE RIEN.

i've been going under, barely staying afloat in my own head full of negativity. sometimes letting myself sink into the jet black thoughts of "i can't do it, so what's the point", other times giving a measly half-assed kick just to say, just to prove "see, i knew i couldn't do it."

i remember reading an article in our high school newspaper about those kids in high school (note: i am one of these very people) who would say after every test, no matter what, that they "think they failed" & after they get their test back that clearly has a fat red A on it, they reiterate that they "really thought they were going to fail." apparently it has an actual name, impostor syndrome, & being the unchanging boring blogger that i am, i wrote about this exact thing two and a half years ago.

funny thing is, back then i think my naive (?) high school self didn't really get what impostor syndrome was beyond preparing one's self for bad results (i.e. telling yourself you can't do anything even though deep down inside you know you're going to come out fine). it really pales in comparison to how i've become now, how severe this...problem has been getting of feeling like an impostor, like i don't deserve to be here, even more so every day because i just haven't been trying.

it goes something like this. in high school, i was surrounded by people who had known me for 10+ years. these people knew i grew up as a quiet bookworm, they knew i did well in school, they expected results from me, and being the teenager i was, i cared about their opinions a lot more than my parents'. but moving on to college, here you are surrounded by so many people who have no idea what kind of person you are or were, who don't know if you're as 'smart' as they are or how you got into this school, really, & your parents are miles & miles away with their only power being nagging you through the phone, & you just start to lose perspective. you stop trying, but more than that you stop worrying.

because believe me, i have tried, but in such a half-hearted "here i am sitting at the library staring at my notes" kind of attempt that you could barely call it an effort. it's when the worrying & the guilt sinks in that i really sit down, concentrate, & don't look back. & that's what i've been missing all along.

beyond just school examples & metaphors, the negativity has infected everything. knocking everything down because it just "seems like a bad idea, "that i might "get hurt," all of these preconceived judgments & outcomes before i ever really do get hurt. not even feeling regret because i didn't even try to care in the first place. so again, making a life of days strung along by doing duties you "know" you have to do but see absolutely no reason as to why.

but all it takes is just one person, one person beyond your usual scope of nagging parents bickering about your grades, your life. all it takes is just one person to show you that you can & should rise up to the challenge every time, no questions asked. & so i relax, naturally floating up to the brim (much easier than i thought), pushing & kicking myself out of the black - finally being taught to swim.

car ma vie car mes joies

aujourd'hui, ça commence avec toi

(because my life, my joys

from today all begin with you)

playing | "non, je ne regrette rien" - edith piaf

photo | bonjour, lucia ; flickr

PERS ; MY BLACK-LIGHT CONSTELLATIONS.

it's the way i burst from 0 to 1, the way my face muscles tense up, my eyes glaze over & the sides of my mouth droop down. it's the way i've suddenly adopted an air of a bratty princess, where not even one thing can be given up for anyone else. the way you have to sit down & console me over the pettiest thing, something i know is minute & dumb yet here i am anyway pouting & being a spoiled bitch about it. it's the way that i'm becoming those girls i used to make fun of (& still gladly would), the girls who blew up over the silliest things, too attached & too desperate.

but it's the way (& you know, this is the way) i can't help but be everything i feel with you. it's the circular logic that for anything that remotely upsets me, you'll be there to lean on, to talk me through...& so i continue to let loose every ounce of emotion in me, depending on you to be there: because you have always been there. & frankly it's quite scary, having someone paying attention to every movement on my easy-to-read face, someone who cares enough to want to see a smile again. & so after years of closing off my emotions to the world, here i am letting it pour out all at once...

it's the way i can take off this mask, letting myself be the bratty clingy overanalyzing girl if that's how i really am. how maybe i don't love everything under this skin, but all the while i found you. & you do.

playing | "coquet coquette" - of montreal

photo | rawrjessphotography ; flickr

PERS ; THINK ABOUT ALL THOSE NIGHTS ON LUCKIE ST.

i find myself falling in love with streets. places where my favorite shops are lined up, streetwalks that thrill me while i walk down. melrose, with its funky boutiques. third street, with the nicest street performers i've ever seen & the tourists touting their nikon dslrs. college & shattuck, both enigmatic street names 'too far to venture to'.

of these, the most accessible, the common & mundane, the dirty, grimy streets are the ones i fall in love with the most.

ventura, home to dan's subs, my favorite buffalo exchange, & most offices in the sfv. no one likes ventura, what with its bad traffic & cops lined up to hand out illegal u-turn & speeding tickets. but the simplest of memories like eating late night in&out & screwing around at the dollar tree, walking from shalimar to yogurt delite back when things weren't complicated, paying 13 bucks too much for an overrated movie, smoking hookah too young..ventura is home. it's everything synonymous with the valley, it's my entire latter high school life. mediocre & mundane it may be, but it's a sign of familiarity any sfv resident would know. a beacon, beckoning you to come home, home.

i can't say telegraph is my favorite in berkeley (college avenue is too pretty & entrancing to lose to a street lined with hobos & sexual harassers, to violence at bus stops & smell of weed all over) but i find it akin to ventura. the single defining street of berkeley, grotesque at first sight but surprisingly houses so much history & beauty, be it the beat generation that frequented cafe med, the fried chicken sandwiches everyone lines up for at bakesale betty's, the korean restaurants & bars that we frequent every weekend...& the ride back home, half in stupor, opening groggy eyes to see the glowing lights of the campanile letting you know...

these streets lead to home.

playing | "luckie st." - cartel

photo | google searches 1, 2

PERS ; I PUT MY HANDS UP IN THE AIR SOMETIMES.

so i'm not the kind of girl that boys are easily attracted to. i don't smile all the time. i don't keep trying to make conversation. i don't laugh at all your jokes, & i have a fast mouth. i'll say what's on my mind when i feel like or i'll stay quiet to the point of frustration. i'm not good at making decisions; no, i don't know what i want. yes, i sigh, i yawn, & loudly at that, & i don't pretend that life is always fields of butterflies & sunshine. i fish for compliments knowing how irritating it is to do so, because no, i don't have the greatest confidence. i won't tell you what's wrong, nor will i tell you much, really. & yes, i get jealous, i overanalyze, & all those other girl cliches that boys want to avoid.

so so so what. it took me a long time, but finally i'm reaching that point where none of it matters. so you think i'm rude, so you take my cynicism & sarcasm seriously, so you think i'm unapproachable, so you think i'm too negative. & for every person, for every judgment formed about me there is something in me that knows there is a reason i've come to be this way. that i value honesty over forced positivity so yeah, i won't smile just to please you. that i quite appreciate my own blunt words & how refreshing it is over the tired lies that everyone else plays on repeat.

all the years that i've spent trying to change to fit someone you wanted, the attractive ideal, the positive, confident girl that everyone could like...& why? years obviously futile as i've grasped onto the sardonic quiet image that i've held for almost all my life, to my discontent. but change, as i've repeated to myself so many times, is something that comes when you really really want it to. & no, i didn't really want to be a fake happy-go-lucky girl full of smiles. i could never be that girl, & although it's taken me so long, i can finally come to terms with the fact that no...i never wanted to be that girl.

so what if i'm not the kind of girl that boys are easily attracted to? what if i'm not someone you'd want as your best friend? i'll believe that there's going to be people like me somewhere, who don't mind a loose slip of the tongue now & then, who believe in keeping some things secret, who don't care about following someone else's ideals. & if there's not a single person who likes my personality, each hidden layer slowly unwrapped & unveiled, then so be it. because i, i can finally say i like all of who i am, every. part. & that the end of this 10+ year struggle is over to me is all that matters.

playing | "dynamite" - taio cruz
photo | autumnfingers. ; flickr

MUSE; WHEREVER YOU ARE IS MY BEST PLACE.

there are those times, difficult to describe but all the better to keep to yourself, when everything just seems to fall into place. each & every detail is immaculate, a thread away from perfection.

just like ♡ (a perfect morning) you open your eyes & you can tell it's morning with the sun streaming in through the blinds. you check your cellphone & you woke up three minutes before your alarm. you get up & stretch, feeling the muscles tingle. the shower water is already at a perfect warm temperature. the scent of shampoo is better than normal & today, you don't cut yourself while shaving. the air dries your hair just the way you want, no effort needed. you manage to flip your breakfast eggs without a spatula just by tossing the pan, a craft you've attempted for weeks but have finally mastered. the clothes you first see when you open your closet door happen to fit with the weather. you get your shoes & the laces are already unknotted. the key fits into the lock for once. every streetwalk light seems to turn green for you.

then there are most other days that fall in somewhere between mediocrity & downright unpleasant, where a tiny detail that anyone but you would miss brings a smile to your face. just that one.

when...
you're driving with your friends & that one singalong song comes on that you shout the lyrics to at the top of your lungs.
you get jokingly insulted & you have the perfect comeback waiting to kill at the tip of your tongue.
a 15 minute nap is actually refreshing.
you have a backup cardigan to wear when you're freezing in the library.
you're starving & your friends share their snacks with you.
you drink tons & tons of water but you don't have to go to the bathroom (yet).
you reach that level with a friend where silence is comfortable, not awkward.

perfect days are just perfect moments, perfect circumstances bounced one right after the other. a coincidence of sorts, a rarity for sure. yet better to be rare, if it would be cherished that much more.

playing | "내 곁에만 있어 (best place)" - shinee
photo | klickovic ; flickr

MUSE ; MY OWN WILL, MY OWN STYLE.

Before I start babbling on about my quite obvious topic of the day, let it be known that I always choose to sit down & update these things at the worst of times: namely when I'm sneezing & blowing my nose & coughing all over the place, I can't get enough sleep, oh & I have a midterm in 36 hours. Oh, I need to get a grip.

Well...blood types & their close relation to personalities. Anyone with the slightest interest in Japanese or Korean culture knows that a huge majority of the population believe in general characteristics in each blood type, some being blatantly pinpointed as worse than others (namely AB & B, sadly). I've grown up hearing my mom gossip about how her type B friends were the most ridiculous, flipping through fat heavy magazines emphasizing blood type quizzes more than horoscopes (& we know how crazy Americans are about horoscopes...think that, but even more fanatical). Even Korean Facebook has a blood type field in the personal info section.

Because I try to pride myself on being rational, I would love to eschew these superstitions and prejudices about blood types, but...what can I say, mine is just so accurate it's unkeen. I know, I know that it's quite ridiculous that my personality matches perfectly with characteristics that are meant to describe at least 25 billion other people in this world, and that my horoscope has a better probability of 'matching' myself than this blood type foolery, but...everyone who guesses my blood type gets it right on the spot: type A. Honestly I'm not even 100% positive that I'm type A, but even my sister who seems like an O all around is A along with the rest of my family (granted this means I could be O, in which case I would jump up with joy at all the characteristics of type O personalities that I've been yearning to have, then realize that it would just mean that this personality stereotyping is utter bullshit & this whole entry would cease to exist).

So what exactly defines a type A girl? I went & translated a couple descriptions here & there from Korean sites & I'd say 90% of the descriptions (words like conservative & unforgiving don't apply, & I'm a horrible attempt at a perfectionist if I ever saw one) were dead on.

1) Full of pride, temperamental
2) Shy & can't confess first
3) Can't easily say what one wants
4) Has tons of thoughts residing in one's head
5) Coldly erases someone from one's mind when an opportunity seems over
6) Opens up slowly at a time
7) Dislikes people without tact
8) Very touched when someone remembers a minute detail
9) Happy when people know that she is concerned for them
10) Shows off a weirder personality the more you get closer to her
11) Is afraid of strangers & really likes personal relationships
12) Acts cold & blunt with someone she really likes
13) Hates being nagged & restricted
14) Becomes more free & easy over time
15) Can hurt others with brutal honesty but is also attentive to others
16) Has strong jealousy
17) Emotions are easily written over one's face
18) Is concerned with looking good
19) Has lots of regrets
20) Frets over & doesn't forget someone else's joke in passing
21) Can't tell others that one is going through a hard time

Check, check check check check mate. A to a tee. It amuses me that this list of characteristics makes type As look completely lame & wimpy (which...could be true?)

Then again I forget that people (namely myself) heavily believe in these superstitions like horoscopes & blood types & even Meyer-Briggs tests because they only read the description of themselves, which sounds a lot like them, so they believe that hey, this is me. This isn't coincidence. Something in this superstition must be real. I could've been born AB & be writing this same exact post with traits like "indecisive, cold, easygoing" leading me on.

Ah, superstitions. Misleading & dangerous but fun all the same.

playing | "nu abo" - f(x)
photo | mshades ; flickr

PERS ; CAUGHT BETWEEN THE GOLD & THE GAME.

i can never quite tell if it's a good or bad thing when i go into writing droughts. the kind where i'm not even compelled to churn out something, the kind where i half-heartedly stare at my blog then move onto other irrelevant things to occupy my time, the kind where i start an entry half out of guilt & half out of boredom & never really get to finishing it.

me not writing usually falls into one of three reasons:
a) i'm so deluged with schoolwork & other things that internet time consists solely of occasional facebook visits
b) i'm content enough with life that i don't feel like i 'need' to write for therapy anymore - & let's face it, happy writing is hard to come by: if you're flying high, you don't really dwell upon it until it all comes crashing down
c) my mind has disintegrated into a tornado of emotions, so confused every way i turn that i start to escape & close off introspection just to let everything be.

anyone who knows me knows a) is utter bullshit (i will certainly make time for writing when i need, or else my mind would wander even further from staying on schedule), & the perfectionist in me says b) is a long way from here. but c), the most complex of the three, the most prevalent...the one reason i always try to push away but the one reason that seems to win in the end, when i tackle writing as the enemy that keeps me focusing on my flaws & never moving on.

is writing the enemy? a couple years ago i once struggled with the thought that the more i write, the more i ponder over my insecurities, & the more i start to withdraw instead of embracing that overrated word change like i always tell myself to. that if i stopped writing & ignored the negative thoughts clouding my head, the lack of attention to these worse traits would eventually lead to their disappearance. & so i stopped at one point, allowed myself to get lazy with my blog, didn't write anymore in my hardbound journal except for trivial daily life oddities, & sooner enough not writing came so easily.

sure, i've become more positive, somewhat less self-conscious since then. maybe it was because i stopped writing, maybe it was just my maturing. but living while shrouded from my own emotions & opinions, seemingly too disasterous for my own good, well...that was a far worse kind of an unhealthy mental state than thinking a few negative things here & there about myself. so yes, days of escaping from myself, of trying not to be an introvert, those days are behind me. because introversion is something to embrace, writing is something to be proud of, & emotions are something you should never back down from.

so there it is, the drought is over.

playing | "changes" - stars
photo | baldodario ; flickr

PERS ; CAN'T EVEN EAT, KNOWING I'LL THINK OF YOU.

do our food habits reflect our personalities? beyond the biological range of "i can stuff myself for one meal & last the whole day" vs. "i have to eat every hour or i can't function", that is. i mean those habits like eating pizza hut with a fork & knife (an obvious germophobe clean freak) or taking apart your oreos or shaking any liquid drink before you consume it.

my habit of getting tired of the same food easily isn't odd; i'm not even sure you can call it a habit, really. everyone gets sick of the same food, right? but when i think of the ritual hypothetical question "what food would you eat if you had to for the rest of your life?" i can't even come up with an answer (except maybe water...which really isn't food). even my absolute favorite foods that i thought i could stuff myself with for years, i get sick of within weeks. plain tart yogurt, gyros, indian food, you name it. i harbor an obsession for sushi yet after stacking my plate once with albacore & yellowtail & various rolls at a buffet, i can't even pass by the same sushi bar again. committing to eating the same soup three days in a row is painful. boring. lacking life.

not only does this make me a stubborn eater (i really do not have picky taste, but the same type of food over & over will drive me insane) + make me scared for this coming year where i'll have to come up with ingenious new meals...every day...to cook...for myself, but it makes me wonder how much of this outlook on food reflects on my personality. with friendships & relationships. even music. every detail.

by complete (lack of) surprise, why yes, i am pretty easily bored, looking for the next shiny thing, somewhere between an inability to concentrate & a lack of commitment. yes, hanging out with the same person every day would be, and is, unbearably suffocating. yes, i go through the most drastically different music phases where i plunge into a band obsession until i grow tired. i have to change my hair every year, something new, something different, something you might not notice but something i can appreciate as a new version of me. even down to the tiniest detail, i can't seem to sit down & commit. i can't even keep myself put in one blog, for god's sake.

on the outside i might appear to be in a lazy stupor, too sluggish to get up and move. but inside my mind, my desires, they're always running, chasing something down. something that might not be new, but at least newer & revealing the slightest of change. one new dish at least to add to my dinner. a new band i could learn to fall in love with. a new friend to delve into and explore. the only thing constant is that i keep hunting change, constantly enamored with the concept of new, different.

of course, change is fun. maybe changing yourself or other people is a difficult feat, but changing the slightest of your surroundings, searching for that bit of unique can't be beat. but it makes me wonder, when does that time come when you need to stop searching change? when you need to learn to envelop yourself with the people you have, to embrace them, and to keep embracing them throughout? when does that time come when you need to learn to sit & eat the same meal, over & over? & perhaps a scarier thought, when does that time come when you learn to want to eat the same thing? when you want to stop chasing down new & different?

wanting to commit, a concept so foreign (but one i'm willing to try to embrace).

playing | "못해" - 4Men
photo | hokipoki ; flickr

PERS ; OUR CONFESSIONS, A NIGHT PROCESSION.

one of the greatest beauties of procrastination is tra-la-la-ing through life, letting all the worries build up inside you until it bursts all at once, & you power through everything one by one. best of all, it works. that intense bout of concentration as the hours tick by is unbeatable motivation at its best. really, trillions of high school & college students wouldn't be doing it if it didn't work.

people always ask how one can really 'enjoy' one's self while the guilt claws & claws inside. ummm...it's really easy? whining & bitching about "how much work you have to do, ugh it's just too hard to even start, whinebitchwhine" is one of the best, most savored parts of procrastinating. laziness is a much harder villain to beat than guilt, a really sad statement on mankind (or just me) but true nonetheless.

imagine a world where we started our work 2 weeks in advance, working on our big final project daily, studying for our midterm bit by bit. never being overwhelmed or daunted by the sheer amount of crap on our to-do list. sounds...boring (and did i mention impossible?)

there's something about me though, maybe it's that blood type a stereotype or something, but it's that feeling that there will always be some worry clawing inside me. that a sort of parasite almost has to exist for me to survive, for me to always be skittish and on guard, knowing that there is something, something i should be doing. it's a bit odd, but every sunday (the requisite You Have To Stop Procrastinating Now Or You're Really Screwed Day) in the shower i think of every single thing that could possibly bother or worry me. a shower starting with the heaviest of hearts, and ending a little more lucidly as the time alone (or the water) helped those fears subside.

so even in this dead of summer, before i really have to cater to any test or book, even while i'm lying on my bed with my macbook on my stomach writing this, even now my mind feels heavy knowing that there are just so many things to mull over and worry about. all the furniture i have to find for the apartment. the textbook i should be reading so i don't miserably butcher my gpa even more. all the friends i should be making plans with. the job i should be finding. every productive thing that i could, could be doing. but then i lean back & visit my best friend firefox...

& that, is the beauty of procrastination.

playing | "plots & plans" - film school
photo | ohsweetnuthin ; flickr

PERS ; LORD KNOWS IT WOULD BE THE FIRST TIME.

you remember what it's like to not care. indifference untying you & setting you free. to fall asleep with an empty mind, maybe pondering about what you're going to wear tomorrow if anything. complaining about how boring life was, how maybe you needed drama to weave itself in to kickstart it back to life.

& you would regret it the second it crawled out of your mouth.

apathy. because really, what is easier? the ultimate copout answer to anything & everything: not hating, not loving, not even a remote speck of emotion to be found anywhere. simply nothing. closing your heart and letting rationality settle deep, a stone cold unemotional soul greeting everyone under a false pretense of smiles.

you escaped because it was easy. shutting yourself off from anyone & everyone you knew was simple, quiet, calm. minimal effort led to minimal conversation and with your earphones set in deep, soon people stopped trying. a recluse, by & large. a title you embraced because no one, you were convinced, no one would know you like you did. no one would know you better, as much as, even half as much as you.

society doesn't like it when you try to ignore its rules. when you turn your head and say "i don't care." it built you to care, machine-produced you to feed off drama & whine & bitch about everything to everyone (or at least someone) & cry when the heart ached & celebrate when it pounded as loud as a beating drum. it wants you to scream & shout, be obnoxious & rude, & certainly never think before you speak. rationality? maturity? words that had never even crossed paths with society, never.

it was always like this. people told you you needed best friends, someone you needed to tell everything to. and people didn't seem to realize how...impossible that seemed, to come across someone who'd patiently sit there sorting through your thoughts, no matter how patient you were with theirs. & so you learned to listen. you learned to be a good friend. & people tried, but no matter how hard you tried to wrench it out, there was just too much stuffed and buried inside. too overwhelming to put on display. things you didn't even want to rediscover about yourself.

so when the chance comes, a rare chance at a blazing connection, someone who could wait with you, perhaps let you lean on them as you dug out boxes & boxes of concealed thoughts, & best yet, someone who would open those little boxes for you & treasure them one by one, well, you want to to hold on. to make sure day by day that your insecurity was just a false alarm; to make sure that those boxes were still seen as presents, a treat to savor, a secret meant for two.

& of course, the paranoia kicks in. you remember, you were never very good at this. making friends, bonding, 'hanging out', those came easy, but that deeper connection, the only thing you had ever chased after, well. it was always almost-- building-- /crash.

it was then that yes, you learned again, proven right again. apathy. crawling in your hole of comfort. because how many times can you really try, until giving up is the smarter idea?

playing | "please, please, please, let me get what i want" - the smiths
photo | ohsweetnuthin ; flickr

PERS ; FROM THIS BURSTING HEART CAN YOU FEEL THIS CHEMISTRY?

writing is not for an audience. writing is not for them, it is not for you, it is not even for us. writing is not for a stranger to connect to my foreign thoughts. writing is not a dedicated letter. writing is innately selfish, it's all for me, me, me. writing is my emotions in disarray on paper, take it or leave it.

i don't know about you but this white window with the ominous 'publish' button at the bottom brings me the most pressure i could ever feel. what runs through your mind as you read my words. how your perception of me changes with every letter. if these words will even get read. how typical or atypical my feelings are. if these are even original thoughts pacing my brain, or simply a guttural spitting out of someone else's ideas shoved deep inside.

i am a person who is downright frustratingly private. you can try and wrench and ply an answer out of me but i have been well-versed in silence since birth. gossip may be a (unfortunate) vice but to talk about me? i was born to be a listener, and no half-assed efforts have changed that, ever.

so this? this is a time, the only time i get to really be egocentric. to abuse the pronoun "i" so much it hurts. and removing the veil of privacy is hard, and to have these words (theoretically) reach so many people i know, even the ones i'm talking about deep inside, well...it's so so vulnerable. the one emotion i hate most.

but remember...writing is not for an audience. and so i'll bite my tongue, paste these words, and impulsively click publish as usual. knowing that you won't read them, but i, i will look back all the same.

playing | "chemistry (original mix)" - 유승찬
photo | ohsweetnuthin ; flickr

FASH ; WILDFOX OVERPASS INTO...

Wildfox Couture Fall 2010: It's Witchcraft from WILDFOX PR on Vimeo.

WILDFOX is just one of those brands that caters almost too impeccably well to the legions of avid Flickr, Tumblr, and Weheartit users. The masses of girls & boys drooling over Nylon spreads and trite Helvetica type. The ones that have desaturating and exposure/offset in Photoshop down to a tee.

After watching the Fall 2010 ad campaign (which was...a nice attempt at being creepy and avantgarde and that Dorion song was perfect, but Lula x Topshop did it best) I took a visit to their website and saw a Korean flag. After the initial double take (girly hipster brands don't just randomly sprout in Korea, or so I thought) it dawned on me that Wildfox, and perhaps the whole nouveau-cliche Tumblr generation as a whole fits in perfectly with the modern Korean girl. There are the same 'edgy' pics on Cyworld, slews of oversized graphic tees (maybe with less sensible English?), a fashion aesthetic of making the most out of the simplest, basic items.

Yes, there are those girls who dress nauseatingly princess-like, but in every photograph, whether in Gmarket or random boutiques, the model has always had the casual hipster image perfected. The easy, relaxing on a Sunday afternoon image: America might have made it, but Korea has made it look so much better (no wonder people are so obsessed with kfashion).

One final note? Koreans should adopt Tumblr. 'Artsy hipsters', I bet Korea has a whole generation of them.

photo | wildfox couture ; spring 09 & 10

PERS ; SUNKISSED SKIN SO HOT WE'LL MELT YOUR POPSICLE.

sidestepping the fact that a year or so of my life was spent in the south (a year i wish i could recall with all my being, but i guess not too many crazy experiences would have been had for an infant spending most of her time in an apartment), i am 100% by definition a socal girl.

① taking 110 degree weather in stride
② busting out fall clothes in 80 degree weather
③ bitching at the slightest sign of rain
④ relishing the drive down PCH every time
⑤ donning sunglasses every day
⑥ driving to a neighbor's house a five minute walk away
⑦ peppering 'like' and 'omg' into everyday conversation
⑧ knowing the other (crazier) venice
⑨ not even blinking twice at fire alerts

however, i somehow never acquired the requisite traits needed to live here; namely, loving to drive (still haven't taken a car anywhere near LA and don't plan to...ever) and loving the beach. i bring my ipod and summer read each time anticipating hours of relaxing with the sun beating down on my legs, only to get irritated the second i get there with the obnoxiously scalding hot sand getting all over my bag and shoes. and then there's that whole part about how i can't swim so i don't go anywhere near the ocean, unless i feel incredibly ballsy only to lose my sunglasses i've owned for one day (true story). there's the feeling of running into the water and crawling out with a whole slew of seaweed wrapped around your foot. and finally after hours of bitching i leave with shoes full of sand and a farmer's tan.

that being said, there's something completely different about the beach at night, something i'm completely enamored with. staring out into the black with greater waves crashing in. hanging on the banister of the lifeguard tower swinging your feet to the cold air. it's that darker side kicking in; sunny beaches found repulsive but nighttime waters found something quite different. couples huddled up in blankets and sweatshirts. lone flashlights checking the scene while you, you try to stay a mystery.

the lazy, carefree, warm-weather-loving socal girl, that's me. but then there are those other sides of living here: the ones that crawl out at night, high tides and 90 mph on the freeway, no wind and air at a standstill: the other california girl, the one no one expects.

playing | "california gurls" - katy perry feat. snoop dogg
photo | we live young ; girls of sun

PERS ; ONE AWKWARD BEAT TOO LONG AND TERRIFIED.

homeless |ˈhoʊmləs| (adj): (of a person) without a home, and therefore typically living on the streets.

i've moved from blog to blog for six years now (and only three i really want to remember; middle school entries are exactly the kind of moody teenage memories you want to repress), the only constant being that each first entry of every new journal started with an obstinate declaration that this, this will my permanent home, documenting the change (or lack thereof) throughout. something akin to entering each new semester determined to devote sleepless nights to the library only to slip into old habits several weeks in. and maybe i'll give it a couple weeks, months, at tops a year or two until i float on to the next.

none of them differ too drastically. it's the same run-on sentences i'm prone to with the same introspective, you-should-be-more-open unorganized ramblings. and gradually writing it enough times gets to the breaking point of whether i should just sit down and change already and quit moping about it, or just give up the ideal that i will never be the social butterfly who can spill all. then, at which point, i somehow lose all motivation to write and there dies blog #18.

much to my surprise, this past year i actually barely wrote or blogged at all. maybe vague minute details about some Great Big Thing that happened on the weekend (which really is not how i want to write or remember things, but that's a whole other issue) or a couple words here and there tossed in with a photograph on tumblr. i didn't bring any of my paper journals to school so aside from the odd 750 word challenge or a dilettantish attempt at fiction, my thoughts were left empty.

it feels nerve-wracking yet comfortable doing this again, for the first time since september, in the same window on the same computer, but with what's hopefully a slightly improved (?) me. curious to see how far i can push out emotions before cracking under the veil of public writing. anxious to see who i've become, something i don't really give much thought in day to day life until i sit down and just let it out. and of course, hopeful that this, this will really be permanent. homeless souls can't live for long.

playing | "sun in an empty room" - the weakerthans
photo | sea of ghosts ; unknown