is he dark enough? enough to see your light?

sometimes, good things happen.

sometimes, the good things gradually evolve into not-so-good things, and when you finally sit down and think about them, you realize that you aren’t happy and that something needs to change.

i guess i’ve finally started to learn that my own personal happiness is more important than than the happiness of others.

er, well, kind of.

my personal happiness is more important than the happiness of others at the expense of my own. i suppose that’s what i meant to say.

i used to be the girl who always tried to make others happy – i had the jobs, the grades, and the test scores for my parents; the great customer service and work ethic for my boss; the performances for my directors; and until lately, an exorbitant amount of patience and understanding for the guy i was seeing.

i can’t do that anymore.

i’ve come to realize just how much my mental well-being suffers when i try to make everyone else happy but myself. and that is absolutely no good.

it’s not that i’m going to start running around and self-destructing – far from it. but i’m going to start doing things for myself again – hanging out with people who make me happy, doing things that bring a smile to my face and make my stomach ache from laughter, writing and playing music because i can’t seem to go a day without it, auditioning for things that i’m passionate about instead of only doing it because “well, it would pay.”

being an adult is about finding the balance between work and play, happiness and compromise. i’m working on it.

tiredness fuels empty thoughts
i find myself disposed
brightness fills empty space
in search of inspiration
harder now with higher speed
washing in on top of me

desole, if someone is prayin’ i might break out; desole, even if i scream, i can’t scream that loud.

according to old man webster, there are more than nine different definitions of the word “broken.”

this one is my favorite:

broken: imperfectly written or imperfectly spoken

i’m not falling apart; i’m not depressed, i’m not angry, i’m not hopeless. i’m just a moody, broody individual, although i suppose that was written in the fine print at the bottom of the “struggling artist” contract i signed. and at this point in my life, i am feeling slightly broken.

we’re all imperfectly written – we’ve got our faults, our vices, our mistakes, and our regrets. no one has a distinctly planned out future, and try as we might to plan ahead, life always happens.

which, makes me think: the fact that we’re imperfect is in itself, perfect.

i’d rather not be perfect. i’ve tried for so long to be that girl; to make the grades, to work hard, to bust my ass. and it’s not that there’s anything wrong with those things – it’s just that i’ve lost sight of my opportunities to really enjoy life. i’ve gone to bed early because of opening shifts at the coffee shop, missed out on shooting the shit with good friends because of rehearsals and other committments, declined invitations for fun and adventure because i’m trying to be responsible.

well, i’m sick of it.

i want to travel. i want to spend more time with the people that make me happy. i want to spend a day reading in the park and playing music and not feel guilty for “wasting the day.” i want to learn how to put my own happiness before the happiness of others, even though i seem to have a lot of trouble doing that. i want to learn how to speak up when things get shitty instead of biting my tongue and hoping that they get better. i want to spend more nights staying up late and enjoying the moment instead of worrying about early morning responsibilites. i want to learn how to say “no” and not feel guilty about it.

i’ve started to fulfill these wants, and i already feel like a happier, more satisfied person.

suck it, life. i’m going to enjoy you, whether you like it or not.

njósnavélin.

njósnavélin by sigur rós. (also known as “untitled #4 from the album ( ). )

a friend once told me that you could fall in love to that song.

in other news, i still laugh every time i step into the shower when i see that the shower head hasn’t moved from its 6-inches-too-short-for-my-height position.

give my gun away, when it’s loaded – is that alright? yeah, alright with you?

‘you are what you love. no? you are, completely and only, what you would die for without, as you say, the thinking twice.’

- DFW, “infinite jest”

and now, my current song obsession (because it’s absolutley beautiful):

“Rootless Tree”

What I want from you is empty your head
They say be true, don’t stay in your bed
We do what we need to be free
And it leans on me like a rootless tree

What I want from us is empty our minds
We fake the thoughts, and fracture the times
We go blind when we’ve needed to see
And this leans on me, like a rootless…

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
And all we’ve been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
There’s nothing in you
And did you hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me so good
That you just let me out, let me out, let me out
Of this hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out

What I want from this
Is learn to let go
No not of you
Of all that’s been told
Killers re-invent and believe
And this leans on me, like a rootless…

Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you
And all we’ve been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
There’s nothing in you
And did you hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me so good
That you just let me out, let me out, let me out
Of this hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out
Of this hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around
Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out

Fuck you, fuck you, love you
And all we’ve been through
I said leave it, leave it, leave it
It’s nothing in you
And did you hate me, hate me, hate me, hate me so good
That you just let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out, let me out
Let me out, let me out, let me out

Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around

Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around

Let me out, let me out, let me out
Hell when you’re around

- damien rice

i am turning in revolutions; these are the scars that silence carved on me.

at the risk of sounding like a pretentious little fuck, i’m just going to throw this out there: i’m reading a 1000+ page book for fun, and i love it.

i attempted to read infinite jest in september of 2008 – shortly before DFW passed away. i just couldn’t get into it – his sentences were complex, his footnotes endless, and his wandering writing was something that i couldn’t seem to wrap my preoccupied brain around. i was in the middle of rehearsing 6, sometimes 7 days a week, going to class 4 days a week, working 2 part time jobs, and trying to graduate – i guess saying that i was preoccupied is a bit of an understatement. needless to say, my first edition hardcover copy soon found its way back onto my bookshelf where it gathered dust and sat, further untouched, the bookmark wilting sadly around the 100 page mark.

i’d been meaning to pick it back up and revisit the multitude of characters and storylines, but i never seemed to have the time to devote to the undertaking. and until i heard about the “infinite summer” idea via a good friend, it seemed like DFW was doomed to a lonely life at the bottom of my bookshelf.

there’s something about immersing yourself in good literature with someone else that is incredibly appealing. maybe it’s knowing that someone is going through the ordeal with you; maybe it’s just nice to know you have another human being with whom you can converse and discuss ideas with; maybe it’s simply that “misery loves company.” whatever it is, as of june 21st, i found myself cracking the cover of infinite jest for the second time – but this time, i’ll finish it.

i’ve got deadlines now. i’ve got people with whom i can discuss the book with, all who are roughly reading it at the same rate i am. and for some reason, the book is holding my interest this time around. i can’t seem to put it down – when i’m not reading it, i’m thinking about it. i find myself laughing out loud at DFW’s dry sarcasm and ingenious wit, laughing at things that i didn’t seem to understand the last time around, and just thoroughly enjoying myself.

at this point, i’ve successfully passed the point where i left off last time, and my interest is only growing with no sign of decline. it looks promising.

as a recent college grad, i’ve got more free time to read than i’ve had in the past 4 years. granted, working two jobs and racing to auditions keeps me busy, but i am overjoyed to finally be reading something again, just for the hell of it. i’ve already made a list of my next conquests:

1) finish “infinite jest”

2) re-read “the man without qualities,” volumes 1 and 2

3) re-read sartre’s “being and nothingness”

4) finish reading kerouac’s collections of journals, “windblown world”

5) possibly re-conquer “atlas shrugged” and “the fountainhead”

ambitious? maybe. pretentious? sure – why not? but now that i have the time, why not revisit some of my old favorites? maybe i’ll even find some new things to read. either way, it feels incredible to finally have the time to read whatever i want, whenever i want. i haven’t experienced that freedom in a long time.