love is a relay; happiness is the baton

So even I think it's ridiculous what an emokid I've been lately. So I am not as happy-go-lucky as I was last year, so what? I can still the make the most out of my life this year. So I'm not cut out for law school, so what? I can still work hard. I still will work hard. Or at least try hard enough to not fail out of classes; I figure passing enough classes to graduate with a JD is a good-as-any goal for now.

I should really be focused on finding something (paying) to do this summer. That and actually writing something truly worthwhile. Well, there are many definitions of "worthwhile" and I don't think what I've been writing up until now is worthless, god, no; I would've probably gone insane without some form of writing in my life. But I'd like to make a concentrated effort on something long, complete, and cohesive.

There is NaNoWriMo, but that's not for another month. I should definitely put some thought into what I want to write 50,000 words of though.



In other topics, I really enjoy the weather this week: a little chilly in the mornings, brisk and sunny all day long. I don't even mind that the sun sets earlier, not too much; this is lovely autumn weather and I am happy if we just stay here. Naturally, that means we won't get to keep it for long but...I will enjoy it while it's around.

I've also determined that if I feel like crap inside, I need to make an effort to not look like crap outside, because then I'll just end up more unhappy. Feeling cute and pretty is such a girly thing, but it does help with confidence boosts, and those are definitely something a girl needs when she is having one of those days.

I seriously do not know who's reading over at UCLA. Hello? Hi?

[x]

when the words that make up who you are scatter
into piles
how do you know which pieces
are you
and which pieces
are writing someone else's story?

sometimes being an INFJ is hard, when no one gets you

I keep thinking it must be nice to be like J...friends with everyone. Enough time to be friends with everyone; enough energy to make the effort, and easy-going enough to make it uncomplicated. I don't know what changed this year - maybe it's just that I'm so busy, so I never have the energy. Maybe it's just that I'm not Korean enough to hang out with the Koreans, or Chinese enough to hang out with the LLMs, or nice enough to hang out with the people I thought were my friends.

Well, it'd be unfair to say they were no longer friends...but it's like there's this expectation that I'm nice and friendly and will make the effort and take the initiative like I did last year. Why is there this expectation? I do want to be nice and friendly and all that, but...it feels so much harder this year. It feels like there are complications left and right, and imminent drama I never wanted and am valiantly doing my best to ignore. It feels like I'm losing people because we're all so busy, we all have our own small groups and our own directions...

And it feels like I'm losing people because I'm not as nice and friendly and outgoing as I was last year. Which seems unfair to me. I can't be perfect; I can't be positive all the time. I wish I could be. I wish I had more energy, or that I didn't feel like I was trying and getting nowhere; I wish I could stay happy and energetic in the face of that but - but I'm human, and I get discouraged when I feel like I try and get nowhere. Maybe I am trying less than I did last year. Maybe I am just tired. Can you fault me for that?

It feels like I'm the only one expected to make an effort; that if I fail, it's my fault. But friendships are a two-way thing, aren't they? I can't make new friends if they aren't receptive. I can't keep friendships if they don't make an effort to maintain them too.

I guess...I wish I were a better person. I wish I had more positive energy, that I was still nice and likable and all that. I wish I had a purpose in life.

I hate feeling like I'm losing people. I hate feeling like I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

Little joys, I still have them, but where is my big picture?

hey, did you know?

I think some people don't believe me when I tell them I am actually a very mean person. It's true that, for all I complain (read: bitch and moan) about the world, I'm generally a pretty optimistic person who believes the best in people.

But when I get in the mood, or am put in certain situations, I am very mean. I am passive-aggressive and snide about it, and not that subtle if I don't want to be.

It's a fault. And one I'm not sure how to go about correcting because, oh, you know what? I don't really want to get over it.

Because sometimes I just don't like you and I want to be mean about it.

[x] beautiful

('cause you are so) beautiful
PG, 357 words

her eyeliner's smudged from the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes that she refused to let fall. she rubs at her eyes and her fingertips come away sooty. she is better than this; she will not cry over this.

it's silly, and it's sad, but she wonders if he still finds her beautiful like this, when she is imperfect in every little way: her hair stringy around her face, her skin blemished, her eyes red from tears she won't cry and half a cold that hasn't quite gone away yet. she feels miserable and thinks she looks it too, which makes her heart sink just that little bit more. it's not that she wants to be a beauty queen or a model; she just wants to feel liked (wanted, desirable), and she wonders if that is possible still when she's at her worst.

she misses the way he used to hold her, arms tight around her as he whispers, "hey beautiful," like he was so lucky to have her. she misses how he looked at her, how he kissed her, how he made her feel, just for a little while, like she was the prettiest girl in the world. the only one he would care about and love and cherish.

it's stupid and she blinks rapidly (tears, stupid) as she reminds herself that she was the one who chose to push him away. it's not going to work out, she's not ready for this, this isn't what she wants... every reason and excuse that tumbled from her lips, she remembers, and regrets a little.

it's for the best, she knows at the bottom of her heart, but a part of her will always miss being, briefly, his number one.

she closes her eyes and presses the heels of her palms against them, squeezing back the stray emotions. she is better than this. she will not cry over this.

she has a future, she reminds herself. she has her dreams. she will find someone else, when the time is right, when she is ready for it.

and she will be beautiful to him, too.

2009.09.23

what if you just fall into a ditch and die?

I hate my Copyright class. We spent a good half hour today debating whether or not silence (i.e., recording silence) is copyrightable.

NO, IT ISN'T.

For a variety of legal reasons, all brought up in the first five minutes of this debate, that people then spent the rest of the half hour rehashing. Oh my god, shut up, why are you wasting my life?

The thing is, my class is full of such arrogant douchebags who just like to hear themselves talk and have such attitudes when they speak (like, duh, of course I'm right, how could anyone believe any other opinion but mine), that it made me want to argue against them, for the copyrightability of silence.

And silence is not copyrightable.

I'm low-protectionism anyway (how could I be otherwise?). But this was a fucking waste of my time, just like every. other. Copyright. class. ever.

is it writing? is it art?

(They say, find a day job, write on the side, support yourself until you are so successful that you can quit your day job. But they don't take into account that writing takes a huge amount of creative, mental, and emotional energy - all of which your day job can drain out of you. What can you produce that is good, that is full of heart and soul and story, after a long, tedious, dry day of work? Those who say that are practical, but where does practicality come in to writing? Writing is an art, and does art leave room for practicality? Or is it something deeper, more innate, more in tune with nature - wild, raw, free - the need for expression?)