I think I’m greedy, but I’m not greedy for money – I think that can be a burden – I’m greedy for an exciting life. I want it to be exciting all the time, and I get it, actually. On the other hand, I can find excitement, I admit, in raindrops falling on a puddle and a lot of people wouldn’t. I intend to have it exciting until the day I fall over.
David Hockney, never have I found a quote that so exemplifies how I feel about life
(via thoughtsdetained)
The pleasure I’ve gotten after reminding myself to appreciate the art of conversation, making the best out of any situation. Who has time for tedious small talk or people or things we don’t like about our day, just fillers, when we could be talking about ideas, or humoring each other at the very least. Time is what you make it, and I want even the time that is wasted, those little hours you don’t really remember much of because nothing significant was supposed to happen, well I still want even those little bits that will be forgotten to be spent enjoyed for the simple lust for enjoyment.
(I felt like Sailor Moon today in that dress)
Failing at starting this paper, that should have been initiated hours ago.
And I have an 8 am tomorrow morning, fuck. AND no time to work on this damn paper because of cheer practice. It’s now or practically never.
On the plus side, today was wonderful. I explored the Met for the first time (the basis of this paper I have yet to begin), went with a friend to St. Marc’s to get her tragus pierced, then after class, I went to the annual ice skating event my school’s inter-residential council hosts. They had a free double decker bus service and i got to slap the street light, hehe. But seriously. The view from there is beautiful, no wonder tourists eat that shit up. Christmas decorations are already being put up in the city, and I cannot be happier about it :)
Wish me luck on this paper, ya’llll.
It’s so strange how one action I’ve done in such a temporarily felt mood has changed my life pretty permanently, and it’s even stranger how something permanent to one person is just temporary to another.
Here is a person shouting, “Take it! Take everything from me!” And they just won’t accept the life line, they’d rather stay sinking. If somebody made you so effortlessly happy and you had the most lovely of times with them, would you leave it alone just because it took some effort to pick up a phone? Does it make sense that you still would not think of them often, no matter how much you liked them? Some people I just do not get, but it would make me so much more at peace if I did.
I love people. Everybody. I love them, I think, as a stamp collector loves his collection. Every story, every incident, every bit of conversation is raw material for me. My love’s not impersonal yet not wholly subjective either. I would like to be everyone, a cripple, a dying man, a whore, and then come back to write about my thoughts, my emotions, as that person. But I am not omniscient. I have to live my life, and it is the only one I’ll ever have. And you cannot regard your own life with objective curiosity all the time.
Sylvia Plath (The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath)