Gratitude

Music never fails to cheer me up. And I'm thankful.

On not having a good day

At 7.55 am this morning, while walking to the closet, I scraped my thigh with not the closet's door knob but the pointy end of the door knob that should not be pointy. There was a big red gash. It is now slightly irritating me as I am sitting here typing this. By irritation, I meant to say bleeding.

The pain as excruciating as it was did not bother me too much. It was the "why the hell this happened to me such early on in the morning" that bothered me. It was a shock. Pain like that just don't normally happen that early in the morning. It was a great tragedy to have happened to a groggy person trying to reach for a pair of jeans. I skipped shower and went straight to eat a banana before going to catch a bus to work.

I almost got hit by a car making a sharp turn left as i was crossing to the bus stop. The driver did not slow down one bit seeing me crossing that road. I think it was an illegal left turn for her too! After that I mentally note that today is not going to be a good day. I've been conditioned quite early on in the morning to be anxious about pain. This doesn't help as I just watched a completely depressing documentary called Dear Zachary on netflix just last night. I won't go into details but that documentary definitely put you in perspective about life, tragedy, and death.

Although the sadness from the documentary lingers with me, the reflective experience of the tragedy that the Bagbys went through might actually help make this day a turn around. I can't sit here and mope about little things that happened like almost getting hit by a car and scrapping my thigh for too long. These events deserve attention, but not prolonged suffering of lamentation. If I was to live this life without quitting halfway through, I need to learn how to move on and roll with "it" whatever "it" being the life's absurdities and tragedies may be.

Today I will be thankful for any peace I receive despite little blunders that might come.

From however little I know about the behavior of myself, I think due to some extent my cognitive dysfunction as in imagining out loud to myself what people might say about me can be accounted for the fact that I, unknowingly, form this unhelpful habit to reaffirm the seriousness of the situation by making myself feel because nothing makes you remember than a stinging feeling of sadness, inferiority, loneliness, incompetent, and what have you.

Perhaps this is a part of the introspection journey handed down to me. Perhaps it was one way my super ego tries to make me better by being critical and exploiting my own imagination.

It begins to become a lot clearer now as I understand more what lie ahead for me. Awaiting along this road of self-discovery is a 1 ton perfectionist superego sitting on a high-rise throne thinking foolishly that perfection exists and that the only way to achieve it is to be constantly critical, setting high expectations, and scrutinizing painfully until "the lesson is learned". It makes a big deal out of mistakes which is okay but equating that inability to avoid mistake as part of unworthiness of self is not. This superego has a lot to learn.

Wanting to be good and better is a part of the flaw in my design I guess. It stings a bit to know you could have done a better job at something. And that's me. My plan would be to navigate through these thorns and reclaim the throne by being skillful in letting go, moving on, and laughing at the blunders and mishaps happening all around. I feel deeper now the meaning of this too shall pass.

Thinking on Poetry

To me, poetry offers more freedom than writing short fiction. It seems to take less efforts with even less plotting and scheming. Poetry just is. Broken words. Broken lines. Incomplete sentences. Rhymes and leniency to just say fuck. I have the liberty to pour down what I'd like to read without having to necessarily conform to a rigorous expectation. I mainly write what I want to read.

Honestly, one of the main attraction is it's shortness. I'm a big fan of short poem with surprising tenderness that tucks at the heart string. Good, whimsical imagery would get my vote. If my thinking is not too charred with lack of creativity, poetry to me is picture translated into words.

I most often find my voice in literature written by someone else. It is one more reason I think we're infinitely linked as a divine collection of spirits. Then, I just have to remember that I am never alone at any given moment. And I hope that other people could understand the intricacy of this bond we all share when they mistakenly think they're alone when they're not with someone.

At one point or another, someone has been in my situation, feeling what I feel while perhaps making any of the choices I could have made. Knowing this somehow I feel okay being by myself.

The theme would be loneliness. It's not always there but it does come and go like other waves of emotion. It's probably an indication of my lack of connection with the one person I have with me all along. Me. And here I am finding myself again writing this blog trying to record some clues that can help put these puzzles of thoughts and ideas of who ME is. The puzzle is yet to be complete but i can see that this puzzle of mine is shared by others. I'm not doing alone or just for me. I'm with you.

I did two things today: one putting my request out for the world to respond and the other applying my hope and dreams to reality.

Today in particular, I found myself redeeming myself from the less than stellar performance at work. I wasn't happy today about my performance at work. That must have played some role in me doing the two things above.

If wait is the game, I hope that life chooses not to hold out on me.

ooooh exciting!

So I think I found a piece of me: I don't want to fight over but I want to be fought over. Or I think I mean I'd rather have someone fighting over me than having to fight over for someone.

I get this nostalgic feeling of tiredness at the thought of having to fight for something or someone. Or perhaps I'm just discouraged.

Don't know about that yet.

what to be

I'm afraid my passion is just a quotation. I'm afraid I'm just like most people referenced by Oscar Wilde. However, I'm not at all like most people as much as I seek to mold myself to the ordinary standard. The only thing that i share with people is imperfections in decision making, making life choices, choosing the alternatives options to spending time, timing myself for doing things, and thinking things out.

There is no point for this post today except to show how lost I can feel in the sea of opinions of what to be.

Letter to ?

Dear life,
I'm not satisfied. Something is missing and I'd like you to fix it. I will provide you with my service and time but you, in return, must lead me to the right places.

Sincerely,

Veasna

3 I's

I want more out of life
so I think I should give it
something worth of its time.

I simply don't know
what I want to do
with this wild and wonderful life.

I need more presence
the kind that is calming
the one that lets me know where I am.

Things I think I should do (or so it seems...)

1.0 I should stop drinking pepsi at 2.55am

Now that we got it covered, these are the things I want to do (mostly buy):

1.1 A vase. For what? flowers? I ask the same question but I feel there's an intrinsic need for a vase when you move into a new apt. And it's not for flowers.

well, i don't think a vase is something I'm going to buy. But i would want more pillows, some posters, and some ideas of what to make my room less soulless. I mean more soulful, more soulful. Glass is half-full.

The truth: I feel like there's something missing when I walk into my room. I don't want that. That feeling of who lives here needs to say me. And we here again trying to figure out the moment i met me. I think i will take a walk a long some aisle and hopefully an object or two can give me some idea. I understand intrinsically that I can't let objects to define me but as far as I know even if i let them define me, the real me will always still come out intact. SO for it's worth, I don't think i will worry myself by losing me to objects. I shall just find something I like to see in my room.

Save me from myself

Tonight I stumbled upon a song
It was lovely and tender as hope
The song is by C/X
and the lyrics are just beautiful.

"You always save me from myself."

Below is the link to the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HYxmS4UNrWY

I think being Veasna means randomly coming across a song on youtube and getting inspired to write a short blog. I think being me means sharing what inspires me. I can't specify what kind of inspiration I get from the song. It's a conflict between the romance and the allure of vulnerability and the desire to be anything but helpless and always relying on the knight in shining armor.

"it's not so easy loving me
it gets so complicated
all the things you've gotta be...
you're gonna save me from myself."

Summer sux?

I guess it's safe to say that summer is here and I don't feel good. I'm not excited. It's almost the opposite. Logically it's going to be a different summer from the one I had last year. But somehow, I just can't get myself to be jubilant. There always seems to be reasons for me to be anxious even though I have 90% of my life in the next few months figured out.

I have a place to stay. I have a job, a career! It's a small student job doing peer advising and helping freshmen register for classes but Its importance and potential have been much bigger than any of my previous jobs. I have worked in a grocery store, a supermarket, a dinning hall and recently in a residence hall. Some of those jobs are bad. Some of them are good. I've met good people so the jobs weren't all together a waste. Plus, of course, I got paid.

But with this new job, there are so much potentials. I'm worried about looking professionally. I'm worried about not being able to do minimal office work even though I've done just that. So I guess one source of my anxiety is new job. I'm afraid I would show up to work and they'd say they'd made a mistake hiring or that they'd had no need for me any more. I'd then hate not knowing what to do. It's quite silly but I have dreams about it. I think I must have really wanted this job so bad.

So we have one source of anxiety figured out. Another one I think is my living arrangement. Living with a friend always carries the risk of hurting the friendship because there is simply no perfect harmony among two different individuals. Hopefully we both have luck on our side. The other issue is that I'd need to move out once summer ends. August 31st to be exact. Move to where? I've got not a clue. I'm still looking. As if I can't understand the gravity of "I'm still looking", people around me make it their personal crusade ,each time they hear it, to tell me that it's bad and I should hurry up. Last thing I need is people asking questions and telling me to hurry. How is that helpful? Thanks for nothing, friends. *sigh*

With moving and having to buy stuff, I feel horrified and sad. I really can't afford to buy nice furniture and I really can't live with ugly furniture! Just kidding. I'm comfortable with garage sales stuff but I'm only horrified because I know I might have to transport them by myself and transporting heavy load of shitxxx isn't exactly my forte.

Hopefully my prospect becomes better. But i doubt it. I'm purposely and willfully being negative.
I'm going to sign off now. My mom just told me to god bed. I'm 21 and It's only 3.18am, for Christ's sake. I must leave home asap.

9.44pm

It's 9.44 pm

It is now 9.58pm and I deleted what I had written. It was about friendship. It was about some tv shows. It was about a lot of things. I deleted because I've decided to keep it a secret in my head for now. The idea of friendship is still a fuzzy subject. A lot of it i have to learn about. I won't define it for I am yet to learn more what it means to be just friend, good friend, and best friend.

Whenever I think about friendship, I think about what Socrates had once challenged people to define it. From what I remember, Socrates had little success himself in defining the term for he expressed that he went back and forth between ideas. Taking his recurring advice through out the works of Plato, I should remain thoughtful over the subject matter and avoid rigidly defining things just for the sake of security in "knowing".

I'm moving in with a friend tomorrow for the summer and I hope to find a place to stay for school year later in the fall and the spring. I'm about to test and learn more about friendship as living with someone is not always easy. I'm excited for the opportunity to grow and learn more about other people. I'm trying to be optimistic with my job. I have some anxiety for I know not what the reality will play out when I set foot to work. I don't want my summer to pass by like a blink. Hopefully i could make something out it.

I want to live.

Instead of studying

I think I'm starting to hate my cheese-filled title of a blog. "The moment i meet me and who I want to be", what kind of fucking moron picked this as a title? The type that I am, apparently. Does this mean I'm eternally screwed with my sense of " title" ? I originally thought it was perfectly aligned with the tone of the blog but the more I come across the title, the more I'm reminded I'm still a sucker for cheesy sentiment.

That must explain my taste in music, movies, and books. I think in my past life I could have totally been one of those morons that bought one of many Picasso's sunflowers immediately after his death just because he's dead and the painting is so great. Or maybe I was the moron who refused to buy his paintings altogether in favor of a more cheesy, trendy art during my era. This is all speculation.

But even if i'm a moron, so be it. I'd be my own moronic self than trying to be something different, something not suitable for me. Anyone can be called a moron these days. But being called that, i know, does not reflect the totality of a person. I think I've found my moronic side tonight. Can't wait for something better to show up. Perhaps, deep down I like crocs?

Before work...

Work is starting in 20 min. But before it starts, I'd like to share a piece of me:

Getting laughed at while trying to make a serious point doesn't feel great. It feels very much like getting stung by a bee. Or perhaps a slap to the face. The ego should know.

I think I've been at both ends. I don't think I like to keep this going so I'd better stop doing it to other people as well. It's not going to happen overnight. But hopefully when I arrive where I want to be, I can see that I've progressed since then.

Lesson today: ego is not you or your friend. your friends are your friends. Forgive them for they know not what they do ( just like you would like them to forgive you for being a dick to them sometimes).

The universe knows

I think the universe knows what I dream about. It has a keen sense of who I am. After all i don't doubt that the universe plays every role in our every day life. It knows what's best for me. It knows what I need. It understands how I feel when I dream. The anxiety. The relief. The pleasure. The pain. None of these things are exactly original and entitled to just one particular person. It is universal. But what is the universe that I'm referring to? You can call it god. You can call it the collective consciousness. But I call it the universe for it is fundamentally kind and I happen to agree with Einstein.

I think the universe knows what I dream about for it moves and shakes things around me, putting places and people around me just for me to experience as me and potentially as other people. It knows how I feel. It knows how I will react. The person I fall for. The I person I hate. The person I love. The person I regret to be. It knows and it whispers comforts. It knows my desires and it owns up the responsibility of fulfilling my desires by ways of dreams and events. I dreamed a moment I desired and I felt what I longed for. I had a good dream last night and the universe knows.

Thank you for your kind consideration :)

It's Friday

I have yet to remember what to write. I know for a fact that I have encountered a few pieces of me that I plan on writing when creating this blog. So far nothing huge has come to mind. Although there was one incident a few days back when suddenly the Fanny Brice's quote I used in the about me on facebook hit home hard. These 3Hs packed a punch. It was not just a realization. It was a sinking realization. I remembered being panic a little at the thought of losing my pose and not knowing where I stand. It was also a shameful realization that I have been posing for no good reasons other than insecurity of expressing my self. We are all encouraged to express ourselves yet at the same we are scorned, mocked, and teased. Note the progression of the severity of each word.

"Let the world know you as you are, not as you think you should be, because sooner or later, if you are posing, you will forget the pose, and then where are you?" - Fanny Brice

We are in college to better ourselves. Adults do have ideas of what we should be. We are following the curriculum and so naturally we are following what people before us think we should be and do. I don't expect the whole quote to be all that is truth, but there is some wisdom in there when you read. You can feel it. You can feel the urge to craft the life we are entitled to and equipped to live. We are better left seeking our own path, making our own worthwhile adventure as we dive into the world as we are, not what we should be.

Where am I? this is the question. On someday, I'm troubled by the question because there is no adequate answer. To me the question doesn't ask about the location of my physical being. It asks: where are in you life? at what stage are you at? Just where have you been? and where have you arrived? I'm troubled because I somewhat know that I haven't made much significant progress. I have a long way ahead. If death means going home, I feel too close to going home and too sad to have not done enough of what I have left home to do in the first place. Just what is it that I have left home to do? I have no idea. Do you know anything yourself?

Is it better to wake up with a specific assignment readied for us to pursue? When it comes it life, it is better that we are left alone to weather out the storm of mystery and uncertainty?

I think assignment gives us some yellow brick road to follow. Yet it seems to take away all the joy and awe of life when uncertainty and adventure are rendered obsolete with the rigidity of rules, precautions, requirements, and assigned sets of dos and don'ts.

Perhaps not knowing is a bliss in disguise.

it's 2.25am

It's 2.25am.
I think i'm waiting to fall asleep instead of going to sleep. Like everything else i have ever wanted, i'm more comfortable waiting than going after it. Food. Toys. Grades. Friends. Affection. Perhaps attention as well as praise. I guess I should say I'd prefer waiting for the opportunity than creating the opportunity. I'm always hopeful for something to happen. Always glad if it happens. So who am i currently?

Definitely not a go-getter. Absolutely not ambitious. Although I have dreams, I'm not encouraged to pursue them. I'm rather uninspiring like one of those leaves falling of a tree, a leaf amongst a thousands other leaves fleeting aimlessly till they hit the ground without so much as a sound audible to the human ears. If you blink, you'll miss me. If you don't blink, you'll still miss me, most likely. But I know I have a story. A path to walk. I have a story and I intend to tell it when the time comes. When the time comes. For now, I think I am a sleeping beauty. Not particularly the beauty as some one might argue. Mostly, the sleeping if i can get everyone to agree on that. Indeed, I'm the sleeping whatever-it-is-that's-not-too-girly-or-fairy-tale-like-sleeping-beauty. The truth remains. I'm sleeping.

So this blog should help me discover some bits and pieces of the real me, those shards of materials capable of reflecting and shedding and shinning and firing and *insert appropriate gerund here* light into who I am. I don't need a kiss. I don't need a hero. I don't need a soft touch to my hand or a longing voice to my heart. I only need enough light on face to know It's morning and it's time to wake up. Get up. And live.

The moment I meet those pieces of me, I will let you know.

Night, for now.