December 2009
2 posts
things i've been itching to do;
wake up early take real photos, with an idea in mind (never turn out the right way) clean out that hard drive, clean out the external back up clean out room, old clutter, things that don’t mean anything anymore take the dog on a walk, a beautiful cold winter walk in the half melted snow politely remind my mom about the student discount in photoshop start a new journal for 2010, get rid of...
December, and Baltimore is gray and bare.
November 2009
1 post
November.
Finally.
October 2009
10 posts
I remember when I used to like October.
I am overwhelmed,
I need to remember to breathe.
September 2009
13 posts
I am going to try something new tomorrow.
And when I say something new, I mean, I’m going to try something and give it yet another shot.
I feel so much more different than I was three years ago.
& I feel so much closer to that person I was three years ago.
Sometimes you’re in, sometimes you’re out.
August 2009
9 posts
I am trying to read/finish Atlas Shrugged, for maybe the fifth time in the past three years. And I am in love with this book, and I swear, it is incredibly brilliant. And I spend so much time taking in every word, that I am nowhere near close to finishing. And this happens everytime. I get a huge chunk done, fall in love all over again, and then go off to do some distracting activity (such as...
when i envision the night, the colors are...
this is the stale dying heat of the summer night. the shrieking of the cicadas slows down to a rhythmic chirp, to let you know that they are still there. there are no cars for this one small instant, but as soon as you turn your back, the rushing of sound streaks up the road, leaving behind a fading echo, like the wave receding back to the ocean.
This is this year’s version of the...
It’s funny, because 99.9% of the time, I am dead honest, but I think people either mistake it for thoughtless compliments, especially on flickr. Or they don’t even realize the value of my statement.
So yes, when I am commenting on your photo and write, “ahh, this is incredible,” those three words and one exclamation are completely sincere. Yes they are.
I am not so sure anymore.
So many ideas, but I can’t seem to bring any of them back down to Earth.
July 2009
13 posts
Understanding is not snynomous with stagnance.
I need to keep reminding myself this.
Throgh acceptance is growth, not the end of a path. You don’t allow yourself to stop here, this is where you need to push harder.
I rarely use facebook anymore. I mean, as soon as school starts up again, so will I, but this time, I swear, I mean it when I use it less and less. Yes, it’s a great procrastination tool. Yes, I check the new photo albums with anticipation to see how people are spending their summers. But I rarely comment and I rarely check birthdays and I never update my status. I was really annoyed at...
There is so much simple inspiration continually...
Why do we push pass it and choose to look at something blurred, black and indistinguishable, impossible to make out; dancing like a blurred shadow, cast from the moving branches of trees on a dusty sidewalk, a grey ghost that invites us forward, into the alluring future?
Why can we not feel and use what is directly in front of us?
What makes us so stubborn?
View from my bedroom window (on a summer night).
This is one of my absolute favorite photos.
This is how my sister and I cut back through to our backyard to get back to our house.
I go on walks with my parents.
Late walks. When the sun has already gone down and the sun has already set. When the sky is that cool dark grey, but you can still make out trees and see the green, green is everywhere. And we go behind our house to this beautiful place that we dubbed, “the office park”. And it’s a series of very modern and clean and short and rounded and beautiful office buildings blended in with the woodsy and...
I think,
that when you hate something so much, you develop this strange attraction to it, because you feel for it so much (even though this is negative, it is still such a strong feeling), and it becomes something personal and may even lead to redemption- and you actually end up liking it very much in the end.
Cuts, Scars, & Bruises
So, perhaps I am a bit of a masochist. But there is something about pain that I really enjoy, maybe I am confusing it with the aftermath of pain- the reward, the reminder that you are strong, that there is something to remind you that no matter how much it hurts, you can still manage; that things have a way of working themselves out. Maybe each purple bruise, each risen marroon scab, each faint...
Every day is the same.
it’s not yet three, i still have two minutes and some odd thirty seven seconds, but i told myself that i have to wait till three, you know? stick with the plan. but i don’t even know why i plan, because i hate the feeling of being tied down, but it’s as if i can only be controlled by a schedule. and i give in, or maybe i am breaking through. i can’t...