I have a huge test tomorrow and I don't know what I'm doing. People have been telling me, "you're a smart girl, you can do this" and "I have faith in you" etc, but the truth is, when you're fighting off a heavy cloud of depression, it's not so easy to memorize things and maintain a clear head for learning. People don't factor that in when they are thinking "oh you can do this" - don't they know that I just want to hide under my bed and never go out again?! It's so hard to push those irritating feelings aside and focus. I can't focus even under pressure.
I am frustrated with myself for the lack of concentration and focus.
Things feel like they are caving in - it's hard to describe, but I feel like I'm too tired to keep going. I just want to give up. I know I shouldn't though.
My dad bought me a new car last Sunday because he said that my previous car will be worth close to nothing in two years. We traded it in for a Prius C, which I'm very happy with. I've already driven 200 miles in it and I still have half a tank of gas left. Normally I'd have to fill the tank again, or very soon. So amazing! Plus it's nice to finally have Bluetooth and be able to talk on the phone through my car instead of ignoring calls during long commutes.
I got this email from one of my best friends from Holland named Katayoun saying that she just landed in LA this morning. I am so excited beyond belief that I can barely study now!
I think I almost started crying because I thought about how much we went through together in Amsterdam - we were so broke and destitute and we were always mending our broken hearts over shared cups of cappuccino. I'm not sure how she's doing nowadays, but I am just so excited she's here in LA so that we can catch up and talk!
The only time I feel alive is when I believe he is thinking about me.
I went to eat dinner with Helen tonight and she asked "Have you seen the Bubble Butt video yet?"
When I heard the "Bubble Butt" song by Major Lazer a few weeks ago, I thought it was a very weird song and told all of my friends about it. Apparently the music video is out for it now.
My internet has been lagging like insanely badly for the past few days, so I it took me forever to watch this video. I'm not sure what I just watched. I guess I'm just amazed at how different some people's bodies can turn out - from ectomorphic flat assery to a full on...well, fully fleshed out bubble butt.
This video was very unique and though not quite my musical taste, I have to appreciate the artistry that went into displaying bubble butts. It reminds me of a few other wacky and weird music videos...
Prodigy - Smack My B*tch Up (uncensored, NSFW!!!)
This is the uncensored cut from one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite childhood albums, The Fat of the Land by Prodigy.
Marilyn Manson - Beautiful People
MM has a lot of controversial music and beliefs. I don't necessarily agree with them, but I think his inherent personality is quite similar to mine (upon reading his biography, Long Road Out of Hell). The Beautiful People mv reminds me of the 90's when MTV was really all about cool music videos. Now all they have are dumb reality tv shows. I wish and would rather they had some interesting documentaries interspersed with music videos instead. That would be my perfect channel. I've been really into documentaries lately.
Yeah, I'm sure there are a lot of other weird music videos, but those were the ones off the top of my head, or the ones that really made an impression on me to make me remember them. Nirvana's Teen Spirit also comes to mind, with the melancholic janitor dancing along to the song. I think those videos have always struck a chord within me because I feel like that weird outsider that can only connect with other weirdos.
Helen was telling me that on the bus the other day, a guy came up to her and asked her, "How long have you lived in the U.S.?" She was a bit shocked at the question having already made some polite small talk with this guy earlier, and then later got mad about it. "Do I look like a fob?!" she asked me. No, actually, Helen looks like any other American Asian. That question infuriated her because she felt that the said guy only asked her that question because she was Asian. "I was born here!" She told him. "Oh!" He was surprised.
I immediately asked her "Was he an old white guy?" to which she said "No, he was an old Asian guy." His question made her mad because she felt that the only reason he asked her that question was because she was Asian. Given his fluency in English, he should have understood inherently that it's a large possibility that she was born here. We realized it was annoying because not only was it racism, but it was racism from our own kind. That question by itself is already annoying on so many levels: what do you imply by asking this question? Do you know that this is the only home I've ever known? Some of us have never even set foot in Asia. It's not that we don't want any connection with our "roots" but it's like asking an African American if he's been back to Africa lately. No? And why would he? This is his home! This is when I realize that the typical image of an American is not as inclusive of Asians or Brown people (aka Mexicans) as they are of ethnicities on the extremes of the color spectrum (black or white). Not sure about that? Next time watch when you ask yourself "how long have they been here?" and then find out that they are (shockingly) born and raised here - maybe even their parents too!
I can't say that I'm free of racism against other Asian people either. In particular, I get very annoyed when people from China or Asia come here and act like this place is an extension of their homeland. No, this is America, you should learn English, learn the culturally accepted norms of public behavior (aka not spitting everywhere in public), stop talking so loudly everywhere you go, etc. I'm all for diversity, but it really bothers me when people live in another country permanently and don't try to integrate.
I think that's what really annoyed me when I lived in Holland, which is not really a culture used to immigrants (as much as they'd like to believe they are). Everywhere I'd go people would ask me what part of Asia I was from. Well, I'd tell them, I grew up in Los Angeles and I was born in Louisiana, but my parents were from Taiwan if that's what you mean. Telling people that, you'd have thought I was telling them the biggest secret of the universe. Their eyes would get all big and then they'd ask "so what language do you speak? Taiwanese? Thai?" That is when I mentally shoot myself with my internal rainbow pistol.
Helen was telling me that she wanted to move to New York, and I was saying that I would go with her after I finished my studies. However, I get very depressed when I think about traveling (actually when I think about anything), so perhaps I should just not go. I've already told Steven that if I fail everything, I'm going to move to an island and never see or talk to anyone else ever again. He gave me this sad and fearful look and asked "what am I going to do without you?" I replied "I guess you could come with me." "But what would we do there?" "I don't know...throw coconuts at each other?"
My dad says when you wake up everyday, you should look in the mirror and laugh a hearty laugh. I know I'm misinterpreting, but I feel that I do laugh at myself whenever I look at the mirror. I see a woman scorned, someone who lost all hope in life, doesn't want to be around anymore, and just a tired old fool. Why am I even still around?
I have a test today (it's 1:33 am) and I can't sleep because I've had too much caffeine.
I was wondering how many people out there ever think about people they once loved. I was thinking about a Greek ex boyfriend who lived in Germany. I wonder if he ever thinks about me and how often. I wonder about my Japanese ex whom I not only loved but idolized intensely for almost a year. Do these people ever remember you at all? Because sometimes the love is so unfair and unbalanced between two people. In the case of my Greek ex, he loved me so much more than I loved him that I felt as though it pushed me away. The opposite was true of my Japanese ex: he could decide not to talk to me for weeks whereas I felt that I could not breathe if I did not talk to him at least once a day.
My mom told me that it is better to marry someone who loves you a little more than you love the person. At first, I felt sad and disagreed with her, but now I understand what she means. In fact, a woman I respect and admire recently told me the exact same thing using almost the exact same words.
But I wonder what it's like to be a man who marries a woman he knows doesn't love him as much as he loves her? I know I would probably feel uncomfortable with the situation. I want to be madly in love with the person and I also want the other person to feel the same way towards me.
I've tentatively created a new WordPress.com account with the site address http://littlefatkitten.wordpress.com. I'm not sure if I will start blogging there or move back to Blogger. I haven't touched my Blogger account since Amsterdam so I'm not sure what I will do. Xanga remains my primary blogging site for now, but feel free to add me on WordPress.
A picture my friend posted on Google+ made me think of the sublime:
We're afraid of tomorrow so we can't live today. I think I'm always afraid of tomorrow. So every single day I'm afraid of the next day. I am afraid of failure, I am afraid of living a purposeless life. It's a paradox because the fear becomes paralytic, so that all you really want is death so that you don't have to live in fear anymore.
You've heard of those experiments where they give rats access to either heroin or food. Given the choice, the rats would choose heroin until they died. If the drugs were taken away, the rats would hit their heads against their cage until they killed themselves. I always wonder, is it always a blessing to have experienced something so wonderful only to have it taken away from you? Is it possible to learn to enjoy abstinence from all or any physical pleasure? There are many religions that attribute the sense of being with having no wants and no needs - to really nullify everything that seems to be the drive for living. So in essence, they learn how to enjoy death while being alive, or being alive while dead - although dead is really kind of a bad word to use since it suggests that it's a negative thing. Maybe you are more alive when you have nothing and want nothing.
I always find myself so tangled up in thoughts of the past or anticipation of the future that I hardly find it possible to live in the moment. I should re-read Eckhart Tolle.
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