that search
4:50 a.m
I could have slept if I wanted, but I drank coffee after coffee and kept awake, for no reason, really. Just that feeling that I learned I am not unique in feeling (though it brings little comfort), that feeling of missing something or of wasting time.
I did nothing special.
I read some more from a historical novel that revolves around Queen Elizabeth and her cousin Letitia and the inevitable Robert Dudley, it-s focusing more and more on the love triangle with each page I turn and it sickens me a bit to my stomach because I dislike romance novels (unless utterly bored and with nothing better to read) but it-s still a history lesson I suppose. It speaks a bit about the political conflicts of England at that time so it-s not a complete waste of time. I am in no mood to read about medieval warfare or naval warfare in the middle ages (because I DO have books on that matter too), so I-ll keep reading this one, it keeps my mind away from other things.
Watched the first three episodes from season one of Prison Break since it-s the only season worth watching from that series, but I was so absent-minded I could bear no more. So I stared out the window some more.
Ate a lot of cake.
I got a tad bit tired now but I can-t go to sleep because my alarm will ring in about 3 hours and I-ll only get a headache. I don-t really have anything very important to do this morning, just personal matters and going around to catch some wi-fi somewhere, probably drink a hot chocolate and eat more cake. Apparently I have zero stress concerning my silhouette and it-s not even as if I shouldn-t be careful because I am anything but a supermodel but lately, if I don-t have my chocolate dosage of the day, I find myself bothered. And they said cocaine is addictive.
I dreamed about Dita VonTeese last night (or was it this afternoon?), we were sitting at a table in a park of some sorts, she, wonderfully attired and fascinating as always, and chatting about things while drinking coffee though I am not sure of the exact topic but it might have been we were talking about love. Dear god, love of all things! I can see the faces of my friends cocking their eyebrows at me and having a laugh, since I always been the last thing to ponder or weight love! I do joke about it, write about it, but life has left me bitter so I don-t give love any importance. Actually, I don-t think I am fully capable of conveying such a feeling inside me, hence why I shouldn-t and will not bother with it seriously.
I found it amusing that it was Dita, out of all people that go through my head before I go to sleep.
Behold the queen of useless intros that should lead to whatever it is on her mind at the moment! I-ll try to make some sense now.
Speaking of dreams, my mother is horrified because I keep on telling her I dream of husbands and children. For some reason she (like a good deal of people) has the impression I will be wooed by the next man that comes in my path, get pregnant and ruin the rest of my life (like she did). I tried to explain to her I tend to get too disgusted every time a man touches me and that marriage is the last thing on my mind and children out of all things, since they are creatures I tend to have a strong dislike for.
Most of my friends speak about the men and women they meet or have relationships with (most of which are bastards or psychos but that-s beside the point) while my replies to those are my concerns regarding traveling, if I-ll ever do rock climbing again or why in God-s name they don-t make cigarettes like they used to.
I don-t think I can feel anything much for fellow humans anymore. Especially in the past few days when I have been struck my complete disregard for human life, it-s a phase that happens to me every now and then and it usually passes in a week or so. I do miss company and the comfort of friends but I-m far away and everyone has their own life now and as far as meeting new people....truth be told, few have the value my actual friends have so I-d rather see those few friends of mine once a year but with joy, rather than constantly meeting new people and feigning interest.
My mother sometimes says that my body temperature reflects my character. It-s only because I have cold feet and ice cold hands regardless of the season. Maybe I-m like that, she compares me to a lizard which is fine because some species of lizards are very cute and prettily colored.
I am trying to throw the sarcasms and jokes aside when writing about feelings, I truly am, but unless I mock at them I might end up taking myself too seriously and forget my place and because I am a Capricorn, I am prone to that.
I-m prone also to these detached periods when I feel like having nothing to do with anyone simply because I-m tired of keeping up with things that don-t catch my interest. I consider though it-s polite to be nice and go around the day just like everybody does and do what you have to do but you can only play a part for so long and I don-t even play that one too well since I constantly do how I please and no matter how polite I am, it won-t always be recieved because of my strange behavior.
None the less...
........I like to jump on beds. In piles of fallen leaves too. I don-t jump in puddles because I adore my shoes but I have a tendency to go for a walk when it rains just because I love it so much. I waste hours on nail art and I like just sitting by the window in a busy city and watch the night traffic. I like solving puzzles and forcing my mind into solving all sorts of things.
I like to change my mind at 2 a.m and pack my bags and go for a visit randomly, to wherever I decide in that moment. I like to be woken up at 7 in the morning and asked: hey, do you wanna go grab a coffee by the seaside, when the seaside is about 600Km away.
I am usually the one who brings excitement in the lives of people because I have the silly impression life is up for the grabs and I can just try and jump to reach things and make them my own. People enjoy the ride and once they-ve had some fun, they move along to the cozy places they made for themselves in their lives.
Truth be told, few stay for the whole ride and the reason why I have become so apathetic these days is because I miss (or lack?) people who bring excitement in my life.
I am curious by nature, exceedingly so, and I like to be challenged, thus I am in constant need of new things do to, to see, to experience. If I fall in a pattern, I turn itchy and irritable, nothing satisfies me.
Though pensive, my mind is never in a normal trail of thought, it-s a constant storm where I probably spend too much time for my own good, but I-m just that type of person, I think a lot and probably 99% of my cerebellum is busy imagining all sorts of fantastic things rather than worrying about being a bride and falling into motherhood for example. The world seen through my eyes has a magical, almost surreal quality about it that I find difficult to show to most, or explain, because to them it seems like it makes no sense.
I fail into resisting because the temptation of the search is so grand and it shines brighter than most things I am surrounded by. I know the answers, no, I know the root of all this and it helps me understand more and more about myself each day.
The root of all these apparent incoherent thoughts and ideals is my constant search for whatever it is I am searching for and the constant grasp and desire for individual freedom.
I am starting to believe that the missing piece is not at all a person as everyone around me feels so inclined to make me think, but a moment, or some piece of information that would bring me the understanding I need to finally feel like I am resting, both in mind and soul.
I once read a theory that stated the fact that we contribute to the Universe with a single moment that can last less than a second. All of our life has meant nothing or was just the path that lead us to that moment or piece of knowledge and all we are worth is that moment (which I chose to call a spark).
I felt elated when I first thought about that, I don-t know why. Maybe because I am vain and because I believe I will make my life, the path, so worth it that I-ll go and explode my spark into something similar to a Supernova? Maybe. But I know that fleeting love and passion, silver and gold or giving birth hold little, or depending on what I just mentioned, no importance for me and why?
Because every time the journey for whatever it is I-m searching begins physically, when my mind is not ahead of my body but in rhythm with it, finally urging it and having the freedom to continue, my heart beats so fast I can hardly catch my breath.
B.
Here. There. Everywere.
I-m confused and currently pending in this state of inertia...or something similar to that.
I will be taking some steps from January into taking care of my future, not knowing when or where I will stop, I don-t want to find myself at 40 and with nothing to assure me I won-t be able to retire to some place in peace. I might be wild, but I am no fool.
In the middle of that, I am anxious, worried and everything in between concerning my leave to Tokyo, fighting between the urge to just go and live there for a month or two and that of staying for a year and work as whatever I can find.
I-m worried about the cultural differences I know so very well, and then I am turned 180 at seeing that the younger people wouldn-t have that much of a problem with me being a foreigner.
I-m worried about my eventual visit to Seoul, should I stay, should I go, should visit or should I work? Can I handle the pressure? Seoul, Tokyo, what if I end up hating it all? It-s something I want to avoid so much that I feel as if I can live with never seeing either, ever.
But I know my kind. My kind does things because otherwise they will not rest if they don-t do it. I am annoyed at my own worry and indecision but I completely understand them.
Sometimes I get so stressed that I-m not able to sleep and I calculate money and plan, over and over until the only solution seems like throwing all the papers away, smoke a cigarette and make a coffee and not think at all.
I will find good things and good people, I must. Even if I have to look at everything at a superficial level, I cannot allow myself to be put down by my own mind, getting into any of these places will be enough of a blow and it will be hard enough, I don-t need to put myself down in my mind too. I should probably stop reading blogs and travel accounts and focus only on language and behavior, I can-t allow myself to be influenced by anything.
I wish I wouldn-t go alone, I wish I-d find someone with the same spirit of adventure and thirst for the unknown as myself and just go for it and laugh at it all when it gets too crazy.
Sometimes I worry and fret and in the end I know I-ll just end up alone, with my backpack on, standing in the middle of the Narita airport, alone, alone, alone and worried, with no clue what to do and where to go next. And love every moment of it.
B.
I know
Sometimes I sleep, sometimes I don-t.
I don-t eat much and it shows, I haven-t ran in 2 weeks and I started to smoke more and more. I joke around a lot and hug my mother and be obnoxious when she-s around because she must have that and depends on me to look careless and as annoying to her as I always was, I consider my playacting a duty towards her.
I drink about 4 coffees or so per day, more if I am out and about, 8 times out of 10 I drink them without any sugar.
It takes about 2 hours for me to finish my nails, putting them on, coating them with nail polish, arranging the colored beads in patterns or drawing on them, then coating them in polish again. It took me about 2 hours to re-arrange the folders in my computer again, I even ordered alphabetically my 400 icons. Doing things with patience for hours has always been a trait of mine I am known for, I just blank out and focus on doing said thing, it helps me think better. If I ever take 5 for thinking only, my head is blank; I can only analyze and let my mind wander when I am focused on something.
I have become more accustomed than ever to watching the passage of time. The landscapes from the train, the clock ticking away, the movements of the clouds, the way night changes into morning, just how I used to.
I don-t sleep much I think, just to wake up after sleeping for the whole day.
I don-t know what-s wrong with me in the past 2 weeks, I-m in a very dark place but not the bad kind of dark place, more like a place shadowing me from the heat of the sun I believe. I go about my own ways and I had a good time watching the rugby match on TV last Saturday, between the All Blacks and the italians and it reminded me once again how much I love that sport and how much I like watching the All Blacks play. I-m as chatty as ever and nothing has changed, I just feel slightly different on the inside and I don-t exactly know in what way.
I don-t wash and I don-t cook because I don-t really eat much, I just steal cigarettes from everyone and drown down my hunger with a coffee, vitamins and some fruit. If I see chocolate I tend to ignore it these days.
Total isolation is not good for me, I at least need to go online every now and then to chat up with some people, otherwise I have the tendency to turn very, very cold and extremely detached.
I am slowly making plans towards my later future and from January I-ll start to become increasingly busy and I have to use that little knowledge of Japanese I got to work my way through very easy conversation best as I can, I can-t allow myself to turn lazy.
But then again isn-t this what I-m doing? I could almost say I lost all sense of purpose but thank heavens I had no purpose to begin with so at least that burden or regret is not something I-ll have to live with.
I-m trying to understand this and that and I have made a rule for myself to understand things long before I reach the age and did so, but this... this has always left me dumbfounded. I can truly be whoever you want me to be, I have so many faces you wouldn-t believe and I was surprised when I found out how easy I can turn myself around to adapt to different situations, that I can truly be cruel and that I am capable of kindness, but I still can-t find the link. Slowly, it-s as if I am creeping up to the same feeling when I was 17 and I was writing Cigarette.
I see those days so clearly even now because I had made such an effort to burn their image in my mind. Those warm late summer afternoons when the light was creeping through the leaves of the trees next to the balcony, how I loved to sit sprawled on the couch and watch those shimmers of light while the smell of Black Stone cigarettes floated through the room.
The ashtray was full, Nightmares on Wax was playing over and over again, I was working by night and spent my days in between the supermarket downtown, the only place I could find fresh baked coffee beans, and the shops open at 2 a.m where I could buy some cigarettes from. How I embraced the solitude of those days, living in an apartment where nothing worked, everything was broken, from the furniture to the stove and dust was caked on the windowsill. I took a bath at midnight, the cigarette on the sink, burning itself, then took long walks because there was nothing I loved more from that city than walking at night like that. Home, the city streets deemed most dangerous of the country where I always felt the safest.
I burned the image of Daniel in my mind, as if he truly sat on the sofa across the room, as I was writing him up in Cigarette.
This was a while after A., but A. has scarred me in the most gentle way possible and even though I decided never to speak of him again, I always think about him every now and then, it-s undeniable and it haunts me. A few days ago I was walking down the street in the evening and a man passed by me, the smell of his cologne stinging my nostrils and it sent a chill down my spine, because he smelled just like him. I watched him walk past me and turn right, losing himself on the small street between cafes and neon lights, a man with white hair and a briefcase, dressed in some tweed jacket all browns and greens, who was not the man I was thinking of at all. I continued walking.
I burned the image of those summer days spent in that dark apartment, probably the most silent days of my life because no one called, no one visited, no one cared. I find quiet comfort in them at times because truth be told...I don-t remember anything much of what happened that summer, my mind wiped away, or ignored, everything else.
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know. I don-t need anyone-s preaching right now.
I know this house ain-t no home.
I know I-m always gone too long.
I know I fail.
I know I should care that my skirt is too short.
I know I seem feather-brained.
I know I should stop.
I know I should have more faith.
I know I [...]
I know, I know, I know, I know and as much as I know it all, in the same measure I will ignore it all because my heart-s not in it and I tend to turn everything in a mess if my heart-s not in it.
I put my arms to the sides of the couch and blow the cigarette smoke to the ceiling, nails shimmering in the dim light of the light bulb, scantly dressed or maybe in my jeans, barefoot in an open shirt, my head moving to the side and leaning on my arm and feeling my life prance around me in the same jazzy bebop-ish rhythm I induced.
I think this is my in-betweener, it-s the only way I can explain it, it-s always so much more clear after I put it down in words. It-s not like those dark wicked places I cannot take any friends into, yet not far because it-s not light either and it-s not one of those merry, colorful places I choose to be wild and happy and free in yet it-s not monochrome either.
It-s almost like being stuck between Jazzamor-s Ain-t No Sunshine and Booby Tamari-s Tokyo Silence.
I know I ---- Ah, never mind.
I know, I know.
B.
I-m like that wine that gives you headaches in the morning.
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Footsteps in the sand
Two days ago, it was raining in the morning, but that-s never been a problem. I was only aware that my arms were getting cold due to the drops when I had to stop for more than 4 minutes in the middle of my run. My legs hurt and I had trouble catching my breath, I could only walk back home, so I started to, I was in the residential area, where the richer people live. I like running on those streets because they are nicely lit, not with those blinding white lights but the orange kind, it gives the whole place and eerie feel, especially when it-s raining.
I couldn-t care much about the eerie feel that morning though, with each step I took I felt more and more frustrated because I knew I would not continue my run that morning. I just grew angrier and angrier at myself and I wanted to give up, crouch down and hide my face in my hands and just stay like that for a while but I couldn-t get myself to do it, I just continued walking hoping it would pass, but it didn-t, that angry feeling just kept on becoming more and more intense and I felt like crying.
I wanted to cry for everything, for not having enough money, for working so hard and not getting anything when everyone else seems to be getting things so easily, for Jaebum, for that jacket I can-t afford, for the dirt and the filth and most of all because
don-t take this from me, I found myself screaming in my head in that moment,
don-t take this from me, you have no right! Don-t take my heart, don-t take my lungs and don-t take my legs, don-t take this from me too!
When you are given something in life, something else is taken away from you, and I wonder when exactly I took something so great that life just feels like it should take, take, take from me and never give again.
I was so angry.
But we walk, I tried to make myself understand while going back home that morning, when we can-t run, we walk and as long as we don-t stop, nothing can hold us back and I can run again soon.
This morning marked the start of me being on a diet, something that I totally loathe, but I have to do because even if I am strong for a girl, I can only be this strong and I got problems sustaining my weight and sustaining my weight suddenly became very important as of recently. I won-t be able to do shit unless I lose some and I seriously don-t feel like dieting but we do what we must to follow what we believe in.
When I say I try to live life as I see more fit and how I like it, I think some people think it-s nothing but good times and slacking off but I-m pretty far from that. I believe I enjoy torturing myself actually.
I was walking under some trees this morning, and looked up for no reason. Normally I-m too deep in thought to pay attention to the trees I pass under almost every morning at 4, but this time I looked up at the branches and leaves covering up the sky and I felt as if something good was beginning, I don-t know what or why, but I just felt like that. It wasn-t an overwhelming feeling that catches your heart and makes it flutter, it just felt like something had moved in a well defined direction yet still rough around the edges. It made me feel stronger.
I started to write rhymes again and I started to hear a rhythm in everything I-m doing again, I move easier, still stumbling but I-m almost flowing.
I followed up my run to the football field and by the time the practice was through, all that was left in the wet sand were my footsteps. The rest of the football sandy field was tattooed by the rain earlier that night, all imperfections covered, just the place I had been was all messed up so when I looked ahead of me at the clean cut sand that stretched towards the opposite gate, it almost made me feel like I was fighting against something far bigger than me.
What now? I don-t know. I don-t know how this is going to end, but tomorrow morning I-ll do it all over again and again and again. I don-t know of anything else, I-m not like the other people who have things coming at them so easily and whatever I want, I have to try more to get it, if I get it, but most times I don-t, so work hard, then work harder is the only thing I learned to do.
Laugh if you want, but I have my dreams and ambitions that have nothing to do with exposure or public acknowledgment, prizes or diplomas. I do what I do and try so hard because when I do it, I feel strong and free.
B.
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