Monday, May 18
"why are you doing this to me?"
if i had a penny for every time i hear this...
so how do i start? maybe by telling you not to judge me because i honestly don't know why i do the things i do
its a classic story, its always a classic story
a happy story with sad endings
and i don't wanna do this anymore
every time i feel like i am gonna fall in love with you i start to dig for ugly things
and if i don't find any, then you are too good to be true, and i begin to shut you out
crawling back into my shell, making excuses not to talk to you, not to see you
giving you reasons to hate me
creating reasons to hate you, because i don't wanna get hurt
i am living a lie, if it hurts then why don't i stop?
maybe i have gotten so used to the pain, i don't feel it anymore
and i can't tell nobody how i feel
am doing it again
angry for no reason, not talking to you for one reason
why do you love me?
and the tiny voice in my head asking "does he really love you"
"is this a dare"
"is he recording the phone calls"
"why does he want ALL those pictures"
"what does he tell his friends"
"why does he even love you"
i should have that label on ma forehead
because i just can't trust you
enough to kiss you with my eyes shut...
and i hate me doing this to you, i know it kills you
hell it kills me too
am just hoping am gonna piss you off enough so you leave
because i am not strong enough to tell you to leave
i just wanna take your hand in mine and put it close to my heart
do you feel this heart beating
with fear and uncertainty
when "am not sure" becomes the only thing you are sure of
it has become a routine
staying in my shell
da knocking gets louder
and eventually it fades away
but before that, the question comes
"why are you doing this?"
and i say i don't know
and i really don't know why i do it
but i do it
again and again
Outside my window... it is a sunny and warm day. Its Victoria day so there's no school, most people are outdoors, am still in my room.
I am thinking... my accounting test for next tomorrow, and the golf fund raising dinner for tomorrow... hybrid assignments due tonight
I am thankful for... each new day and the good times along with the challenges that each new day brings us. Ultimately what doesn't break us only happens makes us stronger. I am thankful for my family
From the kitchen... dinner with be rice salad, chicken souvlaki
I am wearing... white shorts and a pink tee
I am reading... Accounting by Jeffery Slater and Cupid Inc. by Michelle Bardsley
I am hoping... that my meeting with my boss will go well on tuesday
I am creating... a workout plan for myself
I am praying... that everything goes well.
Around the house... everyone seems to be awake, not that am really sure, but the washing machine is on, so someones doing laundry.
One of my favorite things... is just being able to sit quietly and have some time out for myself to gather my thoughts.
A few plans for the rest of the week... complete my marketing blog, well not complete, write more in my marketing blog, i wanna wash my hair and style it as well and study some more. oh i also have to go grocery shopping
Here is a thought I am sharing with you... always be yourself
Sunday, May 17
Something that i hold so dearly to my heart is the project white.
i think i was sixteen years then, full of so much hate for something i knew nothing about. Angry at myself and everybody and nobody in particular, filled with mixed emotions, never trusting a single soul, building my facade, smiling and lying that everything was alright when it wasn't but i kept thinking to myself, if i close my eyes just a little while longer someday it won't hurt.
At sixteen, i was a loner, i still am, the only difference is that now i have people i call friends
At sixteen, i was still trying to fit in
At sixteen, i believed i was overweight
At sixteen, i knew too much for a sixteen year old
At sixteen, i was too quiet for a teenage girl with just a year to finish high school
And alas, it was on one of those rainy days, sitting on the chair right in front of my little reading table with all my school books neatly arranged on it, a James Hadley Chase lying on the table, my assignments completed and packed in my school bag, my lunch untouched, and my attention outside the window.
I can't recall how it started but suddenly there i was, thinking to my self that i needed to burn out all the negative energy i had so i sat down and wrote a list of 10 do's and dont's
* thou shall not hate
*thou shall not envy
* thou shall stop being sarcastic
*thou shall mean everything you say
*thou shall comment positively
*when u cant think of anything positive to say, thou shall keep thy mouth shut
*thou shall smile more
*thou shall build a stronger relationship with your family
*thou shall stop reading books about serial killers
*thou shall look for the brighter side of everything/good side of every being
And i promised myself i was gonna abide by all my self made rules
and i did. Oh well except for sarcasm, i mean what was i even thinking when i wrote that, being sarcastic is like food to my soul... and oh yeah the books about serial killers, yeah oh well... um okay yeah i did cut down the amount of sex and violence i read about, to resume 3 weeks later.
i became a better person over the years. it wasn't easy, i must admit that at a particular point in my life i forced myself not to find anything funny so its weird now that people describe me as funny... i like it anyway
because before project white i put the Grey in rainbows.
Looking back at everything now
i know just enough for someone my age
i like the reflection i see in the mirror
on the whole, i am so content with the life i am living
and for some reason when i am alone, i think of that little sixteen year old, with the shy smile, a mad craze for books and i wonder if she was someone i knew, someone i met on a long bus ride, someone that almost didn't exist, someone that exists only in my diary.
And i miss her, i wonder how her teenage years would have been if she hadn't experienced all that, if she was in a different place, if she saw herself through my eyes, or the eyes of the people around her.
but that is a different story
i dont know if you know how it feels to wake up after sleeping for two days, a dreamless, drug less stupor. And u wake up not feeling your fingers, feeling so light and i must say at this point that i don't do alcohol. so why do i feel like i have a hangover? (however that feels)
i get up, walk to the washroom, look at the mirror, blink, turn on the water, splash cold water on my face, look up again and shes still there, the sixteen year old, staring back at me, unsmiling
its on one of these days, earthlings refer to me as me as moody me on one of my numerous mood swings
when everything reminds me of years past
when i remember not to trust
when i talk with caution
and am afraid to listen to you, because i just might start to believe all i hear
and i might start breaking things - again
something my project white cured years ago
but like drugs
bad habits die hard
and like anorexia, u never feel the same even when the theraphy is over
so pardon me, if i smile and it doesn't reach my eyes
my double personality disorder
rears its ugly head up in the most unexpected places
Tuesday, May 12
This is a picture I did not take of two accomplices to a crime on Mother's Day weekend -- the first, a mom in a maroon sweatshirt and headwrap, impatient beside the getaway car (an unlicensed, rusted Ford Taurus GL) mom holding her daughter's hand, the girl no more than three years old, both of them standing beside the idling car in front of a pale yellow house in midday's sunlight, while a man kicks-down the back door and steals a family's rent-to-own television out the back; this is not a picture of the woman looking at me with a combination of fierce calculation and temerity, pulling the girl closer to her leg, the girl looking up at me with wide eyes that seemed to see nothing, the mother's nervousness charging the air between us with a kind of static, while her husband or boyfriend or brother stole a television from a family trying to carve their own way through this world, new growth of trees and ivy green and thick out back, camouflaging the thief's escape while the second accomplice stood down the street, jittery and whistling at the intersection, looking every way at once, his white sweatpants and t-shirt covering-up his crooked dark heart; this is not a picture of the whistling lookout, the camouflaged thief, the unknowing daughter, or of the kind of mother who brings a three-year old to a felony in the bright light of midday on Mother's Day weekend.
Wednesday, May 6
If you haven’t guessed by now I, dear reader, am a Muslim. The only ‘religion-of-the-book’ that, for all the trying of its pseudo-leaders, has not yet shunned half its following into the cold, palmy grip of atheism. Ultimately, I have to agree with the Big Guy that sex should be more than the forgettable strand of meet, drink, penetrate, and squirt that the vast majority of men (heteros and homos alike) have decided to make it. I’m not necessarily waiting for it to play out like an Olsen twins film, nor am I necessarily waiting for marriage (though that is an option). I’m just saying I don’t want to be bamboozled Spike Lee style.
As I see it, I have one of two options. A: The Frosh-girl route or some less-humiliating-but-equally-depressing variation thereof. You know what I’m talking about. The fresh-from-Toronto girl in the bathroom of 737 screaming to her friend, “Ohmigod, I TOTALLY lost my virginity to him and now he doesn’t even know my name!” Her friend’s genius advice: “Whatever!! Just get really drunk and be like, ‘I don’t care!’” Wow. Is this what feminism was all about? Because Gloria Steinem and I did not sign up for this shit.
Which brings us to option B: dating other virgins. Shockingly, these moys – the man-boy species unique to university campuses – do exist and they’re not all living in their mother’s basements sending anthrax through the mail (take note: that was y’all white folks). There’s only one problem: mostly they’re too damn conservative. Granted, I pray five times a day and fast during Ramadan, but I’m not about to start wearing a hijab just to be considered a “woman of virtue.” I cover my hair. sometimes.I’m also not going to dump my gay bestfriends. I am a lady of virtue enough.
there is more to a relationship than sex.
sex, that's for my next post
I never imagined that school could get this hectic just two days after resumption! I used to complain that i did not have enough time for myself, now i don't even have time, as in t-i-m-e.
okay so what's new in my life?
no first of all what has been getting my attention?
umm... on the news stands H1N1, Swine flu has changed name. Number of death cases is on the increase.
Kim Kardashian has cellulite, and that's news? imagine? people should leave that babe alone, shes human... just human. To more relevant things, my job is going on fine, school is even better... but very hectic.
Anyway its all good.
* Story of the day
Yesterday i woke up feeling very lazy, that's what staying up late, watching wolverine with friends and making so much noise, nobody hears the phone ringing does to you, ohh i digress, as i was saying, i woke up, spent longer than usual in the shower, more time than necessary dressing up, when i finally decided that i had spent enough time shuffling and pacing around my room i decided to go catch my bus.
then, the devil, okay now stop, the devil had nothing to do with this, i decided to follow a different route because i thought it was 'shorter' so my early morning walk to my stop, that was usually 3 minutes took me 41 minutes. I am not kidding, 41 minutes. 21 minutes wwalking to this 'stop' i couldn't find and another 20 minutes walking back to my original stop, thinking... i need starbucks!
*moral of the story* the shortest route is not always the best route
on something more interesting, my friend got back from england yesterday with his boyfriend, it was so good to see him after what? 10 days? he is going to NY tomorrow, so he is officially resuming school next week
I think i am becoming weird, either i am losing my touch or am losing IT, whatever IT is.
I can't read novels anymore, and that dear reader is s-a-d
i just pick or buy one, start reading the first page, flip to the middle, go to the last, then i read the reviews again and i drop it on the shelf along with the rest of my 'unread collection'
sad huh? i know
secondly, i can't watch movies to the end - aloneT
Friday, May 1
i haven't blogged in a while and that's because i have been unusually tired
anyway i was in the elevator yesterday going back to work from lunch and i realized that i wanted to kiss in an elevator!
but i really want to
of course he has to be a fiiiiine brother, my boyfriend, husband, crush woteva
but the deal is i wanna kiss in an elevator before i die :-)
well right now i don't know the kinda kiss i want it to be, maybe the relaxed, easygoing kiss that continues after the elevator stops, and the doors open and close again and you don't care because you are so into the kiss and who you are kissing, or... the fierce hurried kiss that breaks off as soon as da ding of the elevator sounds and the people coming in don't realise the steamy business that was going on... hmmm i can't decide yet. but the bottom case is i-wanna-kiss-in-an-elevator!
while i was creating different scenarios for my first elevator kiss i also decided that i wanted to kiss in the rain (sad as it is, i have never done that) so, now i have said it. I, sweetness would like to be kissed by my one true love in the pouring rain... hmmmm
i really should stop reading historical romance and get rid of those temptations, desire and blaze... those books