'It is a story of a young girl who stood by the window; thought she understood the world, when she didn't'.

(we watched atonement)

250513
Aerosmith concert was absolutely amazing.
can't even begin to describe.
shall talk about it another time.

Laura Marling - Sophia

Now Sophia
I am wounded by dust.

David Bowie - Man who sold the world

this one song started playing in my head and led me to some 4 hour long music-searching spree. Discovered more of Pink Floyd today:


Pink Floyd - Dogs
(from the album animals)


Pink Floyd - Wish you were here


Pink Floyd - Comfortably numb
(solo here is so goooooooood)

-

Am seeing Aerosmith live tomorrow, can't believe my luck.

A few recs i got:


Def Leppard - Love bites


Cinderella - Nobody's Fool


White Lion - When the children cry


Mr Big - Just take my heart


Fleetwood mac - Go your own way


The Doors - People are strange

you take with you some parts of a person after they leave,
and those become a part of the self that you and all the others in the future will come to love.

we're loving so much more than just that 'one' pair of eyes we are staring so intently at..

`

Philo logic crash course #1

of tedious truth tables and trees.

i will be better.

Because it's easier to put yourself down before anyone else does

"The fact that you’re struggling doesn’t make you a burden. It doesn’t make you unloveable or undesirable or undeserving of care. It doesn’t make you too much or too sensitive or too needy. It makes you human. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a difficult time coping, and at times, we all fall apart. During these times, we aren’t always easy to be around — and that’s okay. No one is easy to be around one hundred percent of the time. Yes, you may sometimes be unpleasant or difficult. And yes, you may sometimes do or say things that make the people around you feel helpless or sad. But those things aren’t all of who you are and they certainly don’t discount your worth as a human being. The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved. You can be difficult and still be cared for. You can be less than perfect, and still be deserving of compassion and kindness."

Got this off my friend's tumblr.

I don't understand how, as much as I wish it were true.

Don't be afraid of typing too much. But rather be afraid that even with so many words, you're saying too little. 

i think i'm okay because there shouldn't be much to not be ok about
but signs that i'm not are very unconsciously creeping in,

like when I'm back to sleeping 4 hours a day and I don't care if there'll be fatigue hanging over my body throughout the day, or that i still sleep with my phone next to me even though that makes my head hurt like crazy the next morning, or when I don't eat healthily (or even much at all) and don't give a damn, or when my eyeballs hurt and i continue using the computer.

i'm usually extremely conscious of these things.

Pete Yorn - Lose You

Fed's recommendation.

Because one day, when you can live your life for others...

Surrounded by the frisbee bunch, looking at them training so often, the amount of passion they have for the sport, makes me feel like I want to devote all my time to something, have a goal. We are having treble practices twice a week but the amount of drive is completely different for some reason. I, for starters, have to be more dedicated, it goes beyond just attending every practice. It'd be nice if there were people around me to play music with every single day. My skills have been stagnant, and I have to be better. I need motivation.


And here's a song:


Radiohead - Fake Plastic Trees

all that understanding won't give me any relief

John Lennon - Mother

I've not felt as much pain listening to someone's voice in a song, even though this pain is not immediately accessible to me - this one's about Lennon being abandoned at childhood. Towards the end it sounded more life funeral cries than a part of a song, where every single "mama don't go, daddy come home" is different and increasingly heart wrenching. The emotions so, so so raw.

My writing does not do any justice to it, please just press play.

The Cure - A Letter to Elise

And every time I try to pick it up
Like falling sand
As fast as I pick it up
It runs away through my clutching hands
But there's nothing else I can really do
There's nothing else
I can really do
At all

-

Other tracks:

Tristan Prettyman's Cedar + Gold album
The Smiths - I know it's over
Beck - Already dead
Dashboard Confessional - So long, so long

These arrived in the mail today:

left: jean-paul sartre's nausea

right: simone de beauvoir's a very easy death

excitement.

new reads after the book of disquiet.

finally.

maybe get ruth ozeki's a tale for the time being next.

my friend's gf recommended it and i trust her taste in books

even though we barely know each other.

trust is strange.

i'm not feeling anything today

or trying not to.

so empty.

so hollow.

Even though (......) should


Poison

Had an hour of sleep after almost a whole day of speaking to different people (6, if it matters) till the sky turned bright, about the thing we all crave for the most. Love, lust for love. I need to retreat into a shell, think it all through, have words that speak.

All can be said for now, is to have permission for a good rest before the movie marathon, yet another sleepless night.

(?)

Why a song, endlessly looping, they torment me.

miss the freedom of taking photos of random people in Europe.
i want to travel to the remote areas of japan.

Russian Red - Fuerteventura (acoustic)


Shibata Jun - Gekkou Yoku


so in love with their voices.
Russian Red!!! *_*

Colder things melt faster don't they?
just what on earth was I doing

also, I'm re-reading the posts of 2010 and beyond.
now shut this thing and study, please.

Even though I always say pain is what makes you alive, this aching head I just got from forcing out the brisk, controlled footsteps in a single line towards the other side, gaze straight ahead, certainly does not feel good. To be even more honest and grotesque and with my oddest choice of words, my head feels like a squashed little pea-sized fruit.

Sometimes all I want is to simply fall into my nest of crumpled sheets and strewn pieces at the very last moments of the day before i fall asleep in my most worn down face, and still be accepted for all that i am. I struggle to so often to feel accepted, and maybe I don't know what worth means. I don't know how much I'm worth and how much others mean to me. At times like this where I lock myself up in my room (in the most silent corridor I've ever seen), I wonder if I deliberately do this in hopes that anyone would come up all the way and prove me wrong. But then again, who am I to speak when I haven't shown enough love towards the ones I care about?

A few days ago, some reminded me of how cold I am to simply cut people off. I've always explained it this way: we were not close in the first place, even though we seemed to be on the surface. I admit that I'm not strong enough to just be a listening ear, I need friendships where there is true, two-way communication. I don't want to be the one taking more than I'm giving either. That is why I cut the two of them off. Then I realised I've never thought of how much I meant to them, only how much they meant to me. I rarely think of how I could be important to someone - that could mean two things: I am self centered, or that I do not have much conception of how much I'm worth. It could be both. And I should give it a closure after the exams, both situations.

do not be hardened by the world
regardless of how vulnerable you may be,

they are but mere scratchings on the heart
that can withstand these strong constrictions,

a millionth of what it means to feel alive.

feeling kind of blessed up here in the secluded corner; friends who willingly bring food up for me when I said I was going to have cup noodles, the same friends who have been helping me pack food the past few days, friends who walked me up to my room when I had gastric last night, a friend who wished me all the best for the philo paper later, friends who cheer me up just by existing.

it's 4:30 am again, a few hours before my paper. Fell asleep while studying the last few chapters (I haven't read the last few chapters sigh). Feel like lit and philo are the only two subjects I care about doing well in. Am worried that my brain would malfunction later.

inaction,

and just an air of cold indifference

on a thin layer

There is never a moment of calm in my head

4:43 am, 4 hours before paper.

get out of my mind, bloody music, as much as i love you
i need to cram in concepts of research methods into my head

and i can't do it with a freaking orchestra playing in my head
every single beat so clear, the amazing, amazing melding of notes

So i try to concentrate on the whirl of the fan above me,
but a minute later, extreme-makeover enters my mind again.

So i try to listen to other music to drive it out of my head
but what i need is A QUIET, CALM MIND TO THINK.

So I try listening to 'fuck you', (so many songs with this title),
because this is what I want to scream to myself, but
it is too odd to scream that in a corner room on the 19th floor.

not of great insatiable longing,
but bite sized, sporadic (or not so) moments of tending towards
the simplicity of it all.

side note:
the words 'simplicity' and 'essence' are so similar (in a way), yet
so different in intensity.

Tiredness, the kind at the back of your mind
not the kind of the body and the mind

a little bug that gnaws and nibbles at your brain
eating your mental capacity, flake by flake.

conscious but not fully alive, awake.