January 24th

January 24th, 2016.

Truly the most depressing day of the year?

I can't say that there aren't significantly more horrendous things happening around the world on every other day of the year, but January 24th was truly part of a strange weekend.

Valerie's breakup was probably the catalyst that made me accept the superstition of the day.  I mean clearly anything publicized in the news is accurate.  But when she walked in the door with tears streaming down her face, I knew something was happening that day.  And the worst part is my own ability to potentially lighten the impact of the event had I done something sooner.  I just didn't know; it wasn't my place.

Brooke's own escapades were getting to her.  The boy that night, the guy in the morning, and the man that evening.  Which direction to turn?  Although all are relatively good things; the weight of decision making was definitely taking its toll that day.  Not to mention the upcoming events this week and next month that play into the problem.

Nina's voice is pretty much gone now.  Maybe I should force her to go to the doctor.

Heather - frustrated with her meeting and sad about the cat situation.....Oh the cat.  I had a stress dream last night regarding that.  It literally consumed my weekend and scattered yesterday morning all over the place.  It was actually a quite comical moment; basically the definition of my beautifully disorganized life.  I think I thrive on chaos; it gives everything meaning.  I'm glad Johnathon was a part of it; I hope he sticks around.  

Not to mention my own recent and consistently poor decision-making abilities.  Well, not even decision-making.  I didn't even give my behavior so much as a thought.  I don't seem to care and I need to care.  Thus, it was a relatively good night - no - great night for me.  There's just part of me that wishes I didn't think so.  Can I blame everything on the fact that I was stressed?  I just don't understand a lot of what's happening right now.

And the other-Nina's breakup.  That truly made me hurt.  It seemed like such a desperate cry for help but I'm glad we were able to make the situation better.  I don't empathize but at least I can try my best to sympathize.

Maybe not the gloomiest day of the year for southern California, but definitely an emotional rollercoaster.  When it rains it pours (which is supposed to be happening, El Nino, helloooo).

Studio City

As the sunset dimmed and the traffic increased, the city became abuzz with weekend extravaganza.  The beachfront office had been so alive, so awake with eagerness.  Eagerness for what?  For success, for means to a unique end goal.  A gem surrounded by a beach full of rocks.  Continuing away between the hills, The Hills played and it felt right. The pile of clothes in the back of the car - the elaborate number of wardrobe changes.

Arriving, the night chill set in.  I walked in and was greeted by a few people.  Definitely an older crowd.  Almost instantly I was asked to help outside.  I played the part - act intrigued, touched, asked questions - sitting by the pool on the edge of another hill.  I like this area.  The winding roads, the stillness so awake.

Inside - offered lots of food and drinks.  I scanned the room, analyzing the different characters I saw.  The guy with the camera loves what he does; I felt happy for him.  The main guy was nice, I asked him a lot of questions.  Always good to learn.  I enjoyed watching one woman prep - she looked so fake up close but I knew it would look good on camera.  She wore the weirdest shoes and a full-length leopard robe.  Finally, we were situated.  I fixed my hair and danced to the best music.  Everyone was genuinely having a good time, despite the ingenuine atmosphere of it all.  I danced with this one guy a lot.  He was really good at dancing, probably because I'm pretty sure he was gay. I laughed out of enjoyment and out of the hilarious fakeness of it all.  Someone had a horse mask on.  One girl spilled her beer all over the floor and me in my roommate's shirt - the one I was told not to get anything on.  Oops.

Paris was under attack.  I heard about it on the radio on my way over.  What commenced was a heated political conversation.  I attempted to contribute a few times but knew it was pointless so I sat back and ate my pizza.  Obama's foreign policy, ISIS, the presidential election - I listened as the hardcore liberal feminist (I mean you only cut your hair that short if you're a feminist, right? ;) and the young conservative war vet argued.  The feminist took the vet's opinion way too personally.  Steam was floating out of her head.  Have your thoughts, but be considerate of other's opinions, yah? Or nah.  Eventually, someone else joined the debate and she took the opportunity to escape.  I continued the conversation with the war vet and I agreed with him on a few things, yet he was so pro-all-extreme-measures of national security.  Because at the end of the day, what matters more than a person's life?  To me, it was still a little too big brother.  I left soon after that.  Later someone voluntarily jumped in the pool.

The little bit of alcohol I had wore off and I went on my way, making many wrong turns.  In the dark I sat by a park, waiting to know where to go.  Ah, the beauty of being navigation-less.  I will miss that someday.  I arrived at the house a little too quickly; I liked the shape of the street.  We hot-tubbed for a few hours; pruning before we were supposed to go to a beach house party.  Night cool, water warm, music smooth, stars bright.  It could've been the start of something...but it wasn't.  We drove along the ocean, heater and music blasting, my hair still wet as a dog.  It never dries, I swear.  We stopped at every pier.  Laughed at the drunk people.  Captured the biggest balloon.  The party never happened.
               

Colossians 3:2

I will set my heart on things above, not on things of this earth.

Christ is my life.

I will put to death all earthly nature and evil desires.

I will rid myself of anger, rage, and malice.

I will clothe myself with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.

I will allow the peace of God to rule my heart.

I will be thankful and I will sing with gratitude in my heart.

I will do everything for the LORD Jesus Christ.

Inspired, yet seemingly unattainable.
Blessed, yet how is it regarded?
Flushed, yet with whom to share?
Loved, yet completely ungrateful.
Creative, yet without a niche.
Driven, yet no outlet.
Distressed, yet no exit.

Peace

Beauty is always attainable

Passion isn't something you find

Boldness is not for the indifferent 

People are meant to inspire

Love should always be free-flowing 

Your muse can NEVER match the incomparable love

Freedom is what you create

Happiness is what you determine

Joy never disappears

The self is "narcissistically apathetic"

Apathy is death

Life is meaningless

But grace and unnecessary zeal make it worthwhile 

COLLABORATION = MEANING
:)

Existential Crisis

Surrounding -  the exhausted sighs of the severely lacking quality of interaction.  Everything simply a grating noise in the background, slit my wrists, please.

How did I get here?

How did I become so completely confused about my existence, my purpose, my desires?  How did I get to a point where I can’t even fathom the reality of a purpose?

I am suddenly the girl who can’t seem to find proper meaning in anything without the help of companionship.  I channel that ending message of Into the Wild and when that seems to fail and I look towards my research and my future, I remember God and it’s importance fades to gray.  When I really ponder Christ, the point of my entire conception slips away into one simple role.  So this soberness settles in and I desire to be alone with Pink Floyd and Albert Camus and my overbearing awareness (for of course, I am more enlightened than the average human being, and oh the weight it carries). Yet, the next moment I am too lonely to shut myself in and I throw myself laughing into a social setting or obligation, creating fun in every situation. 

I don’t know how it happened.  I can’t understand how everywhere I turn I constantly find myself in an existential crisis.  Today, maybe it was the lackluster nature of the conversation I so coveted.  Maybe it was my arrogant disappointment in him - no - every human.  Maybe it was me sitting so long, doing what?  Maybe it was the dull hum, the air conditioning, the clothes I was wearing.  Maybe it was the need to pour out my life in fake mental conversations.  Maybe it was the focus I had on the video, for what is the point of focus?  What the heck is the point of me investing so much of my time into something that is going to be destroyed?  Maybe it was the irritating and unasked-for assistance offered last night - thoughts of you don’t know me and you don’t even care.  Maybe it’s the limited communication that words offer.  Maybe it’s the constant 180º transitions.

How do I go from being so happy, so contented, to being so utterly and frustratingly confused?  How come I am rid of most external stressors yet I feel the need to fill that gap with my own internal ones?  Maybe it’s this fake study, it’s beginning to get to me more and more.  I am becoming bitter and disdainful towards it.  And then I had a wonderful meeting yesterday, giving me so much hope, but for what??????

Why can’t I exist in a normal happy human state - motivated by hard work and accomplishment?  Why am I so repulsed by this?  Why does it not seem to have a place in who I am?  

But who am I, really?  I am lazy.  I want to learn but I don’t take the time.  I am too introspective with no grounding.  I want to be awarded for my creative passions, not my ability to get a letter grade, which is ridiculous and stupid of me to demand from a black and white world.  I don’t like to wear shoes.  I don’t like to follow trends yet I do so on a daily basis.  I don’t meet people with similar souls yet I want to be “friends" with everybody.  Oh wait, except the people I inwardly judge as soon as I see them walk into the room.  I loathe other people’s drives.  I don’t understand my own.  I want to be content in Christ yet I look to every other alternative.  When I look to Him, I see past Him to a “deeper” side and can’t settle in His glory.  I hate complacency yet I dwell in it.  I figure out my supposed passion yet can’t seem to focus on it without feeling like I’m betraying God.  I want to be natural in my abnormal tendencies yet I succumb to the feeling of needing to act normal.  I pretend I care for things that I really don’t.  I feel inspired and then I feel like the biggest failure on the face of the planet. I feel misunderstood and I feel like I can’t understand.  I force myself into fun to cover up inner questioning.          

God, no wonder I’m so confused, my life is a facade of walking contradictions.  The pitch of my voice is a map to how extremely false I am.