Monday, January 06, 2003
decoy.everyone has decoys. we all have emotional decoys in our lives. whether it be our faking it to care about someone else, or worse, catering to pride pretending to care about someone else infront of the someones we truly do care about. to validate an existance outside of the emotional realm dominated by your somebodysomebodys. struggling to prove to them, to us, that we, plainly, have a life. lusting to deceive them, yet weeping in the corner when it becomes reality. `as if this satisfaction would somehow be a catalysis to the destruction of the barrier to our own stability.
in the mean time, my ridiculous opinions are as follows: while in our self-indulging phase of recovery, it seems convient to spoil ourselves in our own misery, neglecting our decoys sensitivity, identical to our own. stop fronting. but most importantly, stop lying to yourself. cheap lies take reality for granted. and whats real, whether you realize or not, will be. but, it could very well be everything that matters. if you let it. everything only happens for a reason if you learn to make the best out of it. and the truth could be just what you need. so what should we do now then? i say, either tell them how you really feel, or get the fuck over it. only then, will you own yourself. dont self destruct. its your life, take the the driver seat
BCBG.
it seems we're all so eager to lose our single status. lusting after the new fall line in the corner store window; sometimes generalizing our desires into owning the entire fall line, now blurred by the so many windows we've walked by, -- instead of that one special BCBG dress. We randomly scattering our resources at an imitation or conniving of hurried [violent] ways of claiming ownership of the dress by rushing its delivery from the display window.. ....... why?
after the initial rush created by the transfer of its ownership, everything we are.. remains. remember being in middle school thinking... if the cute popular soccer jock everyone crushed on, liked me back.. maybe i could validate for myself everything i validated about him. dont cover yourself up! be respected, and most of all liked, for who we are, not for our associations. not disillusioned by promises of superficiality.
start saving. through knowledge, dignity, love, faith, .. then when the BCBG dress should come along ... have enough resources to make it ours.. and know it is for sure. know our someonesomeone is the real thing. not a cheapened version of an ideal we've eyed. we dont need to suspect its authenticity. we will know that every moment matters because weve came this far not for nothing. and definately not for an imitation. ...but we've earned the real thing.
so while everyone else walks around in their Charolette Rouse's version of the silkdress made from polyester, while everyone tries to tailor the dress they got on sale in the last size that wasnt theirs, while everyone struggles to tug and pull on the discount dress that didn't make them over into the ideal model sporting the likewise trend on the cover of W,.. i'll know that the tag on the back of my dress will read BCBG. ...size 2. :)
Once in the closet, all pricetags come off. And we'll know what the dress is worth to us, not the estimated value assigned to it externally. now, whether this dress loses its elasticity or shrinks to be too restricting from its original size, or maybe you gaind a few extra pounds, or in my case unwillingly sheds a few, would not matter, because the moment you had -- was real. then can we truly bask in the glory of our BCBG dress! So dont try on every dress on sale. do not have for the sake of ability. dont compromise who youve become, or settle for something less than what you think you deserve. if you dont set your own price, you'll just be a dime a dozen.
Lastly, definately do not walk through life wearing a cheap imitation dress. that's a fashion faux-pas.
state: watchin" SexandtheCity.hotPot.
current status: WhitefleecePullover.pinkJammies.
i ate so much just now. i am going to bust. i just made myself hot pot for one since no one wanted to join me. then i finished all its contents and the soup and then had some cake. right now im laying lazily on my bed hacking away at the laptop hoping that this exercise will somehow speed up my metabolism. i fear that if i should move in any direction by even the slightest millimeter, my stomach will bust. oof. i ate so much it hurts. hurts real bad. such a temptress is gluttony. ooh, i am living in sin. i am a glutton! glutton! hear ye! hear ye!
anyhoos. other than that i wished to say that i really truly am a very blessed person. this winter i have gotten a few emails from friends that i thought i had finally rid! i kid i kid. but yep. it makes me feel special that one would pause to look back on their whirlwind lives and wish to reconnect. its the highest form of flattery i tell ya!
i also read up on my long ago friend jens live journal. i wish i wrote like she did. :) but anyways, i received a 10 page email that lit up my night from one of my good friends in high school. how the fact that he left cornell for italy elluded me embarasses me, but here are some excerpts of a years worth from italy:
"i am living in this apartment with a former Dolce and Gabbana model this semester who is pretty crazy. He was a fascist until he was 18 and does a lot of cocain and hangs out with gangsters."
"... there were a lot of weird little stories like seeing people shooting up heroin, having my friend sleep on a park bench, and an Italian woman who told me that she would kill me with sex."
.. so yea. thanks to my long ago friends who actually wrote me emails to k.i.t this winter break. makes me feel extra-warm this season while i am at the whims of the sick lil one.
speaking of which, my sister is really sick. still. :( she's had a fever for about 6, 7 days now and shes seen 4 doctors. she's seeing 2 more tomorrow. and she might have some disease. and if so, most possibly arthoritis accompanying it. .. among other things. :*( i think she should take next semester off. but she is such a workaholic, i dont know how likely she will take to that suggestion. my parents dont want to see her leave either. so yep. shes been bed-ridden for the last week. some of her friends visit and bring food.. i eat it. my mom cooks her bfast, lunch, dinner in bed.. i eat it.
"monica,..? it's just food. ..its not love." -friends.
oh gluttony gluttony, what a sin.
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