My last grandparent is on his deathbed.
His wife died on my birthday in April.
I keep thinking about beginnings and endings.
Inhalations and exhales
If my lungs had to be scarred from an occupational hazard what would I choose?
Dust mites from the carpet in my cubicle lit by fluorescents?
Or hairspray from matinee and evenings spent backstage?
Instead I wake up with my lungs scarred from fear.
I’m unable to speak my truth never mind live it.
I’m a fraud.
I’m the best actress that ever was.
It’s been roughly 6 months and 20 days since my last post and I can say a lot has changed in that time.
I moved from Boston to China to New York City.
I turned 22.
I started a 2 year sabbatical from men.
More updates to come.
I believe in spirituality and G-d, because inner peace and mental wellbeing precede logic and reason.
I welcomed the first day of the new year resolution-less with a broken phone while nursing a small hangover. Tomorrow will be better. I’ll make sure of it.
Today in Zara “Wrecking Ball” by Miley Cyrus was played three times in a row.
I ran out the store faster than you can say “twerk”.
When I was a child I was obsessed with circle stories. I thought the idea of events unfolding and going back to where they started was always interesting, yet impossible. I was taught to look at life in a linear way, with the promise that nothing would ever be the same, but here I am back at home, unemployed (by choice), with the same dreams and goals for my life I’ve had since I was 8 or 9. Circles are not impossible. I should know my name begins with one.
I keep receiving Snapchats of sunshine and palm trees from my friends who live in California, while I stare at the snowstorm raging outside my window. Sometimes life isn’t fair.
What’s harder? Leaving? Or starting?
I’ve been a student my entire life. I’ve had an instruction manual laid out for me since I can remember. I’ve been taught how to think.
Ai Wei Wei isn’t a traitor he’s a revolutionary.
The corpus callosum divides the cerebrum into left and right hemispheres.
Cosmopolitan is problematic because it reinforces patriarchal ideals.
Think critically (a.k.a. think exactly like the professor so you get an A in the course).
After 21 years and 32 credits later, I’ve been let out into the world and forced to create some kind of life for myself. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing, but who does these days? I am scared. I am vulnerable. I’m upset because even though I was “present” in college most of the time, I wasn’t 100% of the time and now I regret always planning for the future. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have a manual. Education never taught me how to think for myself. Education never taught me about life, yet here I am living it. It’s only day 1. Let’s see how this goes.