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So Apropos
Saw death on a sunny snowFor every life, forego the parable. Seek the light, my knees are cold. (Running home, running home) Go find another lover; To bring and- to string along. With all your lies, you're still very lovable. I toured the light, so many foreign roads For Emma, forever ago. |
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about art.
Art is what you can get away with.
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bridget.carine. divinia. jieyang. gabby. michelle. monica. muk. patricia. sara. wendy. PLAYLIST twitter
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Design: doughnutcrazyIcon: morphine_kissed Do credit accordingly if you changed the icon. |
a bite of the gratitude cake
Many things happen. The things that do happen, take their toll in changing me. I like to think that they change me into the person I am, but what I am seems to keep changing before me, evolving as I meet new people, or see new things, or read or listen or simply feel the world around me. I've had this image in my mind about the life I dreamt of living - but I never dreamt up who I would be in that life. I always imagined I'd be a square peg in a round hole, this uncoordinated, unaware thing that was gangly and silly and never good enough. That is, and always has been the essence of me, or the way I perceive myself. In that way, it would seem that my dream would never be actualized. To adapt an idea: A wise philosopher (I'm too lazy to check which, but I'm sure monica or joel would tell me) said that there were two worlds - the actual, which we live in, and the ideal. In sophie's world by jostein gaarder (which is why I say monica would know), the author uses the example of a horse. We have this image of this ideal horse in our heads, what a horse should be. Yet in real life there isn't one horse that would fit this image - because not one horse is perfect. They would all have its flaws, its differences. Yet we live with this cookie cutter horse in our minds. It is said, then, that there is this whole ideal world, or universe, that we know of, and see our actual world upon. It is easy, thus to see imperfections. But it is also easy to imagine perfection without actualizing it. Yet, the more I grow the more I realize that I don't know what my perfect self is. It is a form that is intangible, ever changing. There are no goals I commit to, there is no future that I see myself being a part of. There's just me, in my world, and me in utopia, a dream that isn't mine to live out. I love people who live out this dream of mine, whom I can imagine becoming the ideal person I see. And so many of these people live around me, and live in my life, with me admiring them. No matter how they fret about me, worry or cry, I know they'll come out alright, coming out better and stronger than I. Put aside all motivational quotes and "don't worry be happy" songs, I know this for a fact. My friends would live a life worthy of envy and admiration. I am really proud of my friends, all of them. They are amazing people. I wish everyone could see that. |