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Memores acti prudentes futuri


You're unsure if I am a loose end or a strand
that waits for you to mend or understand
A few words
"When we describe the Moon as dead, we are describing the deadness in ourselves. When we find space so hideously void, we are describing our own unbearable emptiness."
~ D.H. Lawrence

"Is the meaning of life defined by its duration? Or does life have a purpose so large that it doesn't have to be prolonged at any cost to preserve its meaning?"

"Living is not good, but living well. The wise man, therefore, lives as well as he should, not as long as he can... He will always think of life in terms of quality not quantity... Dying early or late is of no relevance, dying well or ill is... even if it is true that while there is life there is hope, life is not to be bought at any cost."
~ Seneca

"People will tell you nothing matters, the whole world's about to end soon anyway. Those people are looking at life the wrong way. I mean, things don't need to last forever to be perfect."
~ Daydream Nation

"All Bette's stories have happy endings. That's because she knows where to stop. She's realized the real problem with stories-- if you keep them going long enough, they always end in death."
~ The Sandman: Preludes & Nocturnes

"The road now stretched across open country, and it occurred to me - not by way of protest, not as a symbol, or anything like that, but merely as a novel experience - that since I had disregarded all laws of humanity, I might as well disregard the rules of traffic. So I crossed to the left side of the highway and checked the feeling, and the feeling was good. It was a pleasant diaphragmal melting, with elements of diffused tactility, all this enhanced by the thought that nothing could be nearer to the elimination of basic physical laws than deliberately driving on the wrong site of the road."
~ Vladimir Nabokov, Lolita

"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend."
~ William Blake
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Another year has almost passed...
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Be it extremely emotional, controversial, messed up, or whatever, this entry has been password protected.

If you know it, enter it; or, ask me for it.

Comment! (6) | Recommend! (1)

Running off
Saturday, September 15, 2012
"So here's what we'll do:

We'll go home and pack our overnight bags, and we'll drive down to Carmel-by-the-Sea. We'll get a nice hotel room there and then we'll crash for the night, then get breakfast the next morning and explore."

I just stared, I didn't know what to say.

"Okay, scratch that.

We'll go to the airport, we'll pick up whatever they have that's flying to New York immediately, we'll pack our overnight-- no okay, it'll be longer that that-- we'll pack our bags, and we'll fly out. It takes... what, eight hours? to get there?"

"Uh, more like five hours. A bit more than four," I said.

"Yeah but I'm thinking of layovers. Okay well anyway, we'll get there, and we'll ask the airport staff what the nicest nearest cheap hotel is, we'll sleep, and then we'll wake up the next morning to go sightseeing. If we leave now we'll get there... Saturday morning, I'm thinking. I'll tell my work I'm taking my days off, and they can go fuck themselves. Or maybe that I'm sick."

I had some (admittedly probably weak sounding) reasons I didn't want to do this.

"Can't you just put your lotion in a checked bag? I'll pay for whatever checked bags we have," he said.

And I was just wide-eyed, somewhat shocked, nearly speechless, saying no.

---

My boyfriend has the urge to travel, and last night he just wanted to whisk me away with him and go somewhere. He wanted to drive to another city and find something to do, something that wasn't just sitting on my couch, watching movies together.

I couldn't agree to it, though. It's just too irresponsible to leave like that with no warning. And yeah, of course it would be exciting... and it would be an adventure... but I just can't do that. My parents trust me to be a fairly responsible and rational individual, and I can't breach their trust by running away for a few days.

I guess in New York I could feel like I had more slack. I still did all my work, I always do my work, that's not something that's optional and it never will be, but the rest of the time that I didn't have classes, if my friends were free, we could just go somewhere. I can't do that here, not really. I don't want to worry my parents, and since my dad retired the idea of spending money has become a lot more scary. My parents have been really generous to me, and I have an account they've placed some funds into that I can use. Not a huge amount, and I'm supposed to use it for school, which I do.

I don't know why I'm rambling like this. He just caught me so off guard last night.

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Revisiting names...
Friday, September 14, 2012
I found out my chat friend's favorite Next Gen episode is the one I was named after... o_o It's a good episode, but considering how long the series ran, that's a crazy coincidence.

We were Skyping for hours and hours last night. I don't even know when we started, but we ended at like 7 AM. >_> It was nice, though. He played some of the songs he's been working on for me and linked me to some different funny videos. We also discussed some Enneagram stuff (instinctual variants) and how they are expressed in people. Both of us are sx/sp, although we have different types (he's a 4w5 and he thinks I might be a 6w7?).

I'm not good at explaining all this stuff, since I really don't know that much about it on my own, but basically sx types want (crave?) intense, close connections with a small number of people.

The way I tend to think about it is in terms of this story by John Varley called Equinoctial. There is the main character, Parameter, who is this er... biologically modified space-farer, and her companion/vessel is a Symb (a creature that is attached to her/envelops her, protects her, cares for her) named Equinox. They are everything to each other, and in space cannot really survive without one another. Later on in the story they get separated actually, and Equinox sort of dies.

The idea of being so close to someone, knowing them so well, feeling so connected, that you're practically absorbed by each other-- it sounds really weird but it's also kind of appealing, I guess because of the sx. That is sort of what I think about when I express a desire for a best friend. I miss it.

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It comes and goes, you can't escape it
Friday, September 14, 2012
I'm gonna be officially older soon.

-Sigh-

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TNG
Saturday, September 8, 2012
So, I found out that my dad named me after a character in Star Trek.

I'm not entirely sure what to think of that. It's kind of cool I guess, kind of funny. I never really knew where he got the name from, so uh, I guess now I have that bit of information tucked away.

---

Last night I drank a virgin pina colada at a Mexican restaurant that served french fries, while my boyfriend ate a salad and a quarter of a chicken.

We watched a man play a shovel in an art gallery, and I got a free comic called Rare Creature. I think it's about a pregnant woman and she's a hypochondriac or she's crazy or both, I'm not sure.

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The optimist-pessimist game
Monday, September 3, 2012
When I was in high school I used to play this "game" I called the optimist-pessimist game. Basically I would challenge my friend, who was very optimistic, to come up with an optimistic viewpoint of something, and I would come up with the pessimistic side to it.

So we would go for something fairly neutral, like the sky, and she would say "the sky is blue and it's beautiful and sunny out today," and I would say "there are a lot of clouds that look like they're heading this way, it's probably going to rain soon, and the sun is too bright and it's making it too hot outside."

You get the gist of it.

I used to think I was naturally pessimistic, but honestly I'm actually pretty optimistic... Not in the really obvious way where it just seems like everything is great to me, but I do see an upside to most things.

I've been talking to a guy from my chat on Skype for a few months, just discussing his issues, trying to help a little. Sometimes I wonder why some of this stuff isn't more obvious to people, but that's the wrong way to think, I think. He wants to cut a girl out of his life because she made him realize all these bad things about himself. He's unhappy about that, but I see it as an opportunity for self-improvement.

Even when I'm depressed, I know that if I just wait it out it'll go away. The optimism does get subdued when my mood is that low, but it still manifests itself in small ways.

I feel like that little sense of optimism has helped me out a lot through my various phases of er, emotional issues. A few years ago I thought optimism was stupid, and I'd be embarrassed to be optimistic about anything, but... I think I'm okay with it now. Thankful.

I just wish I could make other people see the bright side sometimes.

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Overcoming adversity
Sunday, September 2, 2012
"Overcoming adversity" is something you are supposed to talk about when you are trying to impress people, I guess. It's something you read about in newspapers and write about in college application essays.

But what qualifies as overcoming adversity? Do you have to be born poor and work your way into financial success? Do you have to lose a limb but still win a gold medal in the Olympics? Do you have to be abused terribly but still turn out "normal"?

I don't really know.

At what point does a personal struggle become something other people will respect? Does the struggle have to be external-- physical-- tangible-- or do internal things count too? You hear about people who "battle their demons"... If they win, do you commend them?

...Or do you just give them a pat on the back, say "good job," and promptly ignore them?

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Sentiments and materials
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Thinking about this, just now... I think I might deal with emotions better when I can attach them to physical objects.

For example, I rarely think about the three months I spent writing my first boyfriend while he was in boot camp. I have his letters from that period, stored in my closet, but they're generally subject to that old adage, "out of sight, out of mind."

In some cases it feels like I can't really let some thoughts rest until I have some sort of receptacle to dump them into. Maybe that's why writing out all those things helped me, a few years ago. I needed to get it out into the physical world.

I wouldn't call it expression though, not really. It doesn't necessarily have to do with creation. I just need to have some sort of... symbolic token, I guess? If the emotions in it are bad, I can put it away, and if they're good, well, it doesn't really matter I guess.

Some people put sentiment into certain music, or movies, but that's not really there so much for me. I can listen to "Kiss Me" by Sixpence None the Richer, and it makes me think of sitting in Sports Authority with Ray, but the emotions aren't there. Or well, the emotional memory, perhaps.

For Sentimental Reasons by Various Artists on Grooveshark

---

My mom is pushing me to look towards the future, but I feel like I'm withdrawing into the past. I'm remembering all these details from when I was in third grade, and my best friend was a girl named Nicole. We walked to her house after school one day, and I was supposed to walk back home by myself, but I got scared halfway back because I wasn't sure if I was going the right way. I don't think I turned back, since I've always been more afraid of asking for help than wandering around, but I remember standing at the corner of a block, and the house there had a tree on the lawn with one of those plastic kiddie-chair swings, in yellow.

Another time, we had a sleepover at her house, and we were both supposed to be sleeping on the sofa-turned-bed, but the TV was on and she had fallen asleep. I was worried that it was wasting energy, and I couldn't sleep with it flashing at me anyway, so I trying to figure out how to turn it off, but couldn't, so it was making me anxious. It was one of those old sets, the kinds with dials instead of buttons, and had wood paneling instead of plastic. I really wanted to turn it off, but I was afraid to wake her up to ask her...

She lived with her grandparents, because her mom was only sixteen when she had Nicole, but she called them Nana and Papa. Her great grandmother also lived with them, and Nicole told me she was 90.

They always had red licorice in a plastic candy jar with a green lid next to the dining table. I think they had Goldfish too, but I was wary of crackers that weren't in the original packaging.

Remembering these things makes me kind of sad, but I remember so much, all the time.

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