I had tried twice before and failed. This is harder than it looks.
And knowing that my words will be public inhibits my stream of consciousness, as much as I try not to edit or self-censor. It’s tougher than journaling one hundred words on my own, which I had been doing for a while. It’s also more demanding and requires more discipline than a blog. Nevertheless, I have decided to try.
I guess I’m missing that stability and centeredness that the old Confucian world order promised; it’s unclear where I fit into things. Relationships are muddy. I can count on family, thankfully. But beyond that, everything is murky and in constant flux.
At the time, I thought it was some bastardized Arab-Chinese dish, because I had never had lettuce cooked like that before. It was literally swimming in sauce and so hot. But my mother made the same dish tonight (minus hot sauce) and I learned it's a real Chinese dish. Actually, it was quite good. I miss Sana'a.
Casablanca's not fluffy like Breakfast at Tiffany's (all style and little substance); it has a steady, heartfelt undercurrent that is ultimately moral— stemming as much from situational forces and fundamental ideals as from the personalities evoked by Bogey and Bergman.
And that's what makes the film so strong for me: the love story is embedded in the time period. Love does not transcend all circumstances; and it shouldn't. There is something poignant and romantic about that.
I am home and it's good being with my parents for a change. I do value our time together. At the same time, I know this is just a rest stop, and I will leave them. So many goodbyes in life. I wish I had someone to travel with me towards the horizon.
But those feelings are wearing off. It just feels like my life is in limbo and I'm waiting for next summer to come alive again. It's like with breakups-- at first it's hard, but there's also that thrill of liberation. When thrill and heartache both pass, what remains?
Ebert is a genius of the apt description. The story itself didn't really soar or surpass expectations. But it was quite beautiful to look at. Kapur used a lot of bird's eye shots and circular shots. I look forward to watching the director's track.
Hormonal matters never seemed this complicated in high school. It was all furtive glances, gossip, anticipation. And if by chance, the right two people meet and sparks fly, ah the rapture of first love. No irony, no reservation, and no defenses.
I guess it's performance anxiety. The daydreams that plague me daily are actually quite monotone and boring; so I write my offline entry first to get those thoughts out of my system, hopefully. What's left over is more sanitized.
I don't hate my exes just because they're exes; I've never bought into the idea that a guy must be a loser or scum just because he doesn't want ME. I don't make excuses to make myself feel better.
Dacian called to wish me happy holidays and that got me thinking of last 4th of July, when Plushy and I met him at Summerdance. That was a fun night of dancing. I've always liked Dacian and thought of him as a good leader and kind.
His call got me thinking of Plushy again and how nothing happened between us, although something could have, and almost did. I don't regret it because circumstances were different then. Verdant could've easily passed by me the same way. But didn't.
As there seems to be a major backlash of hate towards the Ally Mcbeals of the world. Magazines may parade thin models, but IRL? I can't count how often I've heard the sentiment that "real men" like "real women" with curves. Is my vagina "real" enough?
My taste in girls shows greater variance. Some girl crushes: Mila Kunis, Sasha Cohen, Kate Moss, Devon Aoki, Zhang Ziyi, Bebe Neuwirth, Gillian Anderson, Gwen Stefani, Oksana Baiul, Martina Hingis, Faye Wong, Nicole Kidman, Portia de Rossi, Naomi Watts. Women are just beautiful creatures.
In some ways, the descriptions I've read of her remind me of Kira Nerys from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. I have a bit of a crush on that character too. She's tough, no-nonsense, and willing to fight for her beliefs. I have a bit of that in me as well. I think it's from my mom.
Norfolk seeks to dominate Elizabeth, and that is no surprise; Dudley, her lover, seeks the same, whether he knows it or not. I had thought him merely callow and perhaps selfish; but to hear Kapur speak of him, he's far worse. He loves young Elizabeth who was "his", and like many men, can't see her changes. Like Cecil, he doesn't actually respect Elizabeth as Queen: He doesn't trust her enough. Only Walsingham sees clearly. His affection is genuine.
His wife's death is always fresh in his mind, and he can't remember to forget it.
The scary thing is, anterograde amnesia is a real condition. I think I might prefer to die than to suffer such a permanent hell. Without the ability to consciously learn new things and gain experience, what is life? There's still momentary sensory pleasure, but without retrospection, is there meaning?
I can relate to Barbara and I wish the world were a more accepting place. Although... do I really accept myself?
STNG was a very idealistic show. Instead of deux ex machina endings, science provided the solutions. Without appealing to gods, humankind nevertheless acted with a strong moral sense of justice and fairness. And rather then impose their own moral system on other peoples, humankind strove to uphold the Prime Directive. They didn't always succeed; but they always tried. The fortitude of their beliefs impressed me greatly:
The principles they upheld transcended their lives.
It's a bit early to start reminiscing about the past year; there's a few days left still. But I've done a lot. January of this year, I was working at my old job in Chicago. In March, I finally graduated and it was relatively anti-climactic. June, I gave my two weeks notice, and in July, I flew off to Yemen.
It's hard to do justice to everything I've experienced there with a few clichéd words. But— it's always about the people, you know? I'll always remember. Sweet goodbyes without regret.
Come to me.
You know, so don't make me say it.
We shouldn't fight. I can obey all of your rules, and still be. Be.
You know that I adore you.
Let's unite tonight. You don't have to explain. I understand. I know your habits. Calm, calm down. You're exhausted. Come lie down. Dark and divine. I'll nurse you. Embrace you tight. I'll take care of you, protect you.
I miss you but I haven't met you yet.
Believe in me, and take my hand, and drink the wine, and fill me up. You refill my place. The halo crawls away.
Take my heart, and believe in me, and drink the wine, and let me follow. Rewinding all we can. The world unwinds inside of me.
Take my breath away. The heavens stroll inside of me. Revealing who we are, you repeat my fate.
You complete my fate.
Yesterday was Bjork, and today it's Monoral. I hear "Kiri" and in my mind's eye, I'm back beneath that rust-colored sky, open, oppressive. One more application left.