Je l'adore

"Nothing is original. Steal from anywhere that resonates with inspiration or fuels your imagination. Devour old films, new films, music, books, paintings, photographs, poems, dreams, random conversations, architecture, bridges, street signs, trees, clouds, bodies of water, light and shadows. If you do this, your work (and theft) will be authentic. Authenticity is invaluable; originality is nonexistent. And don't bother concealing your thievery - celebrate it if you feel like it. In any case, always remember what Jean-Luc Godard said: "It's not where you take things from - it's where you take them to." - Jim Jarmusch

Je ne l'aime pas!

The limit as x approaches 0 of SinX/X = I don't give a fuck!

Ah! I'm completely over math. I missed it, for whatever reason, and I love it so fully when I do it and I know what I'm doing...the problem is that I'm not really being taught how to do it as how I should be able to go about doing it.. if that makes any sense. Essentially it's all about the methods to use to solve the problem rather than actually solving the problem and its so frustrating. I'm going to fail my midterm tomorrow. ugh. Okay, well I need to sleep since I'm going to have an hour and half of hell tomorrow, luckily the rest of my day is great.. so yay!

I think I might write a short story about people, but replacing their names with numbers and having them do things math related... like taking others to their limits to find their end behaviour. awww yeah.

Okay, no, but really. I'm exhausted. Goodnight world.

Je ne ;

Interview

I've been reading interviews with Woody Allen. I find him fascinating, he's incredibly humble and incredibly conceited at the same time and I'm not quite sure how he manages it, but it works for him. So kudos!

I feel inspired to write. I've been listening to hours of music using my friends headphones...its been magical, honestly, it's like I'm listening to music for the first time again.

I've been transcribing a ton of Woody Allen's quotes/straight up interviews.

Putting off math is the greatest and worst feeling since I have a midterm on Thursday, but its the first time I've really not cared about doing it.

I sort of regret taking 2 of the 5 classes I'm taking this semester (sleep and math), its not that I don't like them, it's just that there are so many other outstanding classes that I could be taking, that I should be taking, that I would love to be taking that I'm not because of some weird feelings I have towards taking "academic" classes. Like at times I feel like I should take more Political Science or Development Studies classes so that what I'm doing seems more reputable, but at the same time, a lot of the classes I'm taking are far more interesting and far more difficult than a lot of those classes and they have cover much of the same material though in different contexts... so fuck it.

I must now get to the long list of reading that I've been putting off. Until tomorrow my dear blog, until tomorrow.

Rien de dire

I literally have nothing to say. I can't focus, sleep or eat- whatevs, but I really have no inspiration today. Perhaps my next post will be more exciting/entertaining. G-d I hope so.

Also, I have Kasey Chambers songs stuck in my head... so there's that.

I didn't know it was possible for me to cry on a swingset, but that's exactly what happened tonight. My night started out fairly well, then one disappointment after another built upon each other and caused me to break down. The only person who has ever been able to piss me off that much is my mother, and she hasn't had that effect on me in 2 years, so this is something that I'm not going to be over for quite some time. I apologize in advance for having this face on (). I just need to be away from people for a while and focus on...I don't know, my life? Maybe? I'm not sure but hopefully I'll figure it out. Right now I'm going to sleep, but I feel that I'm going to be spending many a nights down by the swings.

Until tomorrow,

Always mine.

Suppose

I suppose I died yesterday, since I didn't post.

Though, oddly enough I feel very dead today. So maybe I was alive yesterday, but dead today, and everything I'm doing is just for all the most illogical of reasons? Irony, maybe? I don't know. I don't feel ironic. So I'm not.

Tonight was great. Today was not. I'm really not going to get into anything specific because i don't want this to be my space to bitch, I just want this to be my space to think and to get things out, to work things out in my mind while writing things that I'm not sure really exist or where they go or how they get there or why they're inside me to begin with. I just want to write.

I'm also sick of feeling sorry for myself and wallowing in my privileged life when I can actually be doing something more productive- like help someone else have a more privileged life. I'm tired of not going for what I want because I'm afraid and I'm, I'm just tired. Fuck this. I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow will be a new day, with new things to write and new things to discover. I will say, however; before I go, that the moon was perfect tonight and swings make everything better.

Ars Gratia Artis

So the story I just wrote wasn't really thought out at all. I sort of just got into a grove and everything sort of flowed out of me? I'm not quite sure how to talk (write) about it. It's just a very good feeling when I've accomplished a piece, or a portion of a piece that's gone in a completely different direction than I first imagined it would go. I'm intrigued as to how this all works. I find it fascinating not only that I can create something using only my words and varying degrees of diction and syntax but also that they can move in intricate and unique directions that I don't anticipate, but there they are. I should look more into this. Well, in short, I love writing for writing sake.

I am the Deer

I am the Deer in the electric wiring. I romp through the city at lightning speed, every second on the second, maybe even before the second. I am much faster than the second. Some might call me omnipresent, but that's only slightly true. I'm only in the wires. So if there are no wires, I don't exist. In fact I'm not sure if I exist at all....but I'm telling you all this, so I must be real.

I'm real.

I work mostly at night, through the wee hours of the mourning, luckily for me, the sun can take care of a lot of the lighting responsibility during the day, but the moon, the moon is a shisty bitch that never gives me a break. So I'm forced to scamper on and on and on towards each new appliance or outlet. Sometimes I bolt so quickly I cause power surges and short everything out. I hear people complaining all day and night that this doesn't charge fast enough or this internet is too slow (granted that I have little to do with the functionality of the internet...except that she's my cousins girlfriend, I might have to meet with her at the next gathering to see if there's anything she can do). Hm. Where was I? Right, sorry, I think that often times my mind is racing so fast from place to place as I bolt in and out of the wirings that I forget that I'm supposed to remember where I was, but that's really hard because I'm just going so fast, and I keep going fast, I can never slow down, if I do people get angry and then they yell or cry because they're scared or they forgot to make sure my owners get paid and I don't think my owners have a right to get paid for my services, I think that's slave labor and that this proletariate must rise against their capitalist ventures, then again, they do work awfully hard, I'm very conflicted, I think that my thoughts and opinions change so quickly because of my line of work, like I really like fans, because they can always have a constant stream applied to them and its much more relaxing then other appliances, or I hate old houses because their wires are old and it takes a lot out of me to work the way I need to, additionally I love getting to see the pictures in digital cameras that are being charged, they make me happy and sometimes sad and sometimes worried for mankind that all they look at is beauty and sex, its strange, they're strange, oh my, I've been rambling.

*sigh*

Well this has been very lovely, but I must run. Places to go, people to see, that sort of thing. Hopefully I'll get to see you soon. Bye.

...

Hello, again...

Iz Gonna Have Time To Write

3 Hour Block tomorrow for me to sit by the river and write!!! AH! So excited! Okay. Well, I better get to sleep then. Big day tomorrow :D

Also, I love not having room for anything anymore... jake.

Let It Be Known

I hate Gertrude Stein. Though I respect her for her innovative style/ cubic writing on a more historical background, I absolutely despise the actual writing itself. This is not to say, that the language she uses is bad, but syntax, her structure and all its comprehensiveness is lost. Her words are beautiful her writing is not.

10 Sentences

I realized that I never posted the ten senctences (sentences) for stories that I would like to write. So here they are:

I. Gavin's eyes wandered to the cloud formations in the clear Arizona sky.

II. Rachel's hair frizzed in the humidity.

III. What is it with societies preoccupations on the ideal female figure?

IV. What is the progression of human happiness and enlightenment?

V. The tears running down his face cut through the harsh September wind.

VI. Not a single sincere birthday wish.

VII. Mary fumed with anger, slamming the door, nearly reaching for her gun.

VIII. "Open the door, bitch!"

IX. Dear friend, I've met someone.

X. The grey December sky mirrored my disposition.

... so yeah.. I guess I was in a really emo mood when I wrote these. I hope not all of my story ideas will be that way...

I'm not sure what I can or should write about... not there is necessarily anything proper about the content of writing that I can (must?) provide, but I don't really have any other reason to write then to.. well, write. I find it more and more relaxing just to let everything flow into the post.. and its really hard not to delete and change things, but I'm really, really trying (actually right there I messed up on the second really and I deleted it and re-made it... but at least I'm being honest about that right?). I'm not quite sure how to handle things right now, everything still a little up in the air and I don't know how to function or what to do. I've tried scheduling a skype date with my best friend, Nikki, but it keeps failing/slash we keep failing and its just becoming a prodlem, problem, excuse me because I need to aalk by which I mean talk to her and she really needs to talk to me and ahhhh. Why is Wellesley not 5 minutes away? That would make my life so much better and hers as well. I also recently discovered the huge part of my personality that is uber passive/aggressive to a point that it actually is starting to annoy me and I never realized it before.. until I started really analyzing the conversations I was having with people and my reactins (reactions) to their comments. I really need to work on myself and on my responsibilities rather than on other things outside of my control...which happens to be what I'm best at, wanting to control things that are actually completely and utterly out of my realm of control and knowledge.

I really don't want to go on a rant about my issues and my flaws when there are so many other things that I would rather disuss (discuss). For example, in gender, sexuality or as I basically just refer to it as, Queer Theory there is never really any discussion of the so called "metrosexual" and if there is its only slightly touched upon, which I find interesting and a bit disconcerting considering how this entire branch of theory really focuses on individual identities and the understandings of those identities in a larger social construct and the interactions that happen within. I bring this up simply because the other night at about 3 am I had an hour long conversation with a dear friend of mine discussing queer theory and its many facets (mostly since I'm incredibly fascinated by it and because it has much more significance to me) and he brought up his own metrosexuality. Which was rather interesting and tad entertaining because he realizes that everyone questions his sexuality and he's become fairly comfortable with it (mostly because he's had to) and that really struck me because it reminded me once again about not type-casting people based on their looks and interests, or type-casting based on anything... basically don't type cast. Or how its important for us to know about someone's sexual identity as that is then a defining part of them instead of a just a part of them that helps in the picture of defining them... essentially the way sexuality is viewed by many people is that it is the central part of ones identity and I really just find that appalling.

I think that I want to continue talking about this at some other date, but right now I have a ton of reading to get done and then I need to sleep.

A demain!

The Hardest Thing About Having Nothing Is Having Nothing to Give

I uber love this woman. My best friend discovered her during our junior year of high school and we've been in love with her words ever since. I can honestly say that she was a main source of inspiration, another is Jeanette Winterson... though I may make a post about her later. But right now, I just want to share this and hope that someone else finds comfort in her poetry.

I Need Say Nothing, Only Exhibit

"The word novel, when it entered the languages of Europe, had the vaguest of meanings; it meant the form of writing that was formless, that had no rules, that made up its own rules as it went along."

"Plot itself ceased to constitute the armature of narrative. The demands of the anecdote were doubtless less constraining for Prouse that for Flaubert, for Faulkner than for Proust, for Beckett than for Faulkner. To tell a story became strictly impossible."

"Collage, the art of reassembling fragments of preexisting images in such a way as to form a new image, was the most important innovation in the art of the twentieth century."

"'Rothko is great because he forced artists who came after him to change how they though about painting.' This is the single most useful definition of artistic greatness I've ever encountered."

"The life span of a fact is shrinking."

"I'm interested in knowing the secrets that connect human beings. At the very deepest level, all our secrets are the same."

"Art is not truth; art is a lie that enables us to recognize truth."

I don't feel any of the guilt normally attached to "plagiarism," which seems to me organically connected to creativity itself.

A Rainy Thursday Evening

Daniel moved quickly. Picking up his pace as he went along. The rain pouring, the streets glistening, the leaves shifting. It was still a ten minute walk home, he couldn't handle the slippery sidewalk and his shoes lost their traction. Schwoof. He fell forward, stumbling and loosing his balance for a moment before regaining his composure and continuing his schlep from the library to his warm abode. The streets were fairly barren, regardless of the time, he only spotted two cars during his entire nightly stroll, granted his eyes were more focused on the ground before him than his surrounding area. The rain fell harder and harder until the only audible sound was that of water smacking the concrete. He quickened his pace again. He refused to stay in this downpour any longer and his brisk walk became a slight jog...

That's all I have right now. I was inspired by walking through the rain tonight and by listening to a few songs by The Smiths. I'm not sure where I'm going with the story or if I'll even continue it, but I'll figure that out later.

Puppy

I've decided that I want a fluffy puppy and a swing set. If I could have those two things, I would pretty much be content for the rest of my life...

...okay, well that

and maybe some wine.

Sara Bareilles Just Makes My Day Better

Gonna Get Over You Lyrics:

Goodbye

Should be saying that you by now, shouldn't I?

Laying down a law that I live by

Well, maybe next time

I've go a thick tongue

Brimming with the words that go unsung

I simmer then I burn for someone

The wrong one

And I tell myself to let the story end

That my heart will rest in someone else's hand

But my 'why not me? philosophy began

And I said

Ooh, How am I gonna get over you?

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

oh, I wish you'd want me to say

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

Maybe

It's a vicious little word that can slay me

Keep me where I'm hurting, you make me

Hang from your hands

But no more

I won't beg to buy a shot at your back door

If I'm aching at the thought of you, what for?

That's not me anymore

And I'm not the girl that I intend to be

But I dare you darlin', just you wait and see

But this time not for you, but just for me

I said

ooh, how am I gonna get over you?

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

oh, I wish you'd want me to stay

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

Say it's coming soon

Someday without you

All I can do is get me past the ghost of you

Wave goodbye to me

I won't say I'm sorry

I'll be alright once i find the other side of someday

ooh, how am I gonna get over you?

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

oh, I wish you'd want me to stay

I'll be alright, just not tonight

But someday

Game

Who's better at being me, than me? Nobody..except maybe you. But you don't count. So I'm going to stick with me. Therefore, my game is being best at being me or rather at imitating me, in which case I'm still the best at it. If I were to lose however, it would be Charlie Chaplin style- losing a look alike contest, though in my case it would be an act alike contest... though I do like the idea of a Jose look alike contest as a means to see how other people think I look...

Regardless, my game is pretty great. I think I'm going to go play it now.

Favourite Song

It just feels appropriate

Schedules

Schedules shall be the death of me. For some reason I think I can do more than I actually can... for example, I'm already going crazy with stress and I have no idea how I'm going to find time to just be lazy but I'm thinking about adding on another job and doing a few other activities. On the flip side (like the pillow, cause its cool), I want to do these things and I want to be busy because I want to do something with my life. Alternatively, on the warm side of the pillow this time, I would like to simply hang out with my friends without some other pretense involved...like studying.

Bah! I'm done with this. New subject, haikus:

Fire drills are horrid

Force me to stand in the cold

Guess I should wear pants

Alter Ego

I find it difficult to be a side of me I don't know. I find it most difficult because I don't know who I am. So how am I to be a side of a person he doesn't know, when he doesn't even know his own side? Perhaps I'm being too cryptic? Perhaps I am too cryptic? Perhaps I should just be honest. About what.. I don't not know. But honest I shall be. Perhaps my honesty should be about the things that I know are fact? Essentially I am going to be a side of me that I never really am talking about the entire being of me.

Name: Jose Samuel Stanley Paul Clair

Birthday: June 30, 1991- born at approx. 10:52pm at St. Mary's Hospital in Apple Valley, CA

Siblings: 6- Heather, Heidi, Hollie, Hope, Hayley & Hilary

Nephews & Nieces: 9- (by sister) Nic, Trey, Tristan, Trent, Skyler Starr, Abygail, Zachary, Ziva

Favourite Colour: Green

Favourite State: California

Favourite City: London

Favourite Movie: The Jane Austen Book Club

Favourite Book: The Five People You Meet In Heaven

Favourite Artist: John Constable

Favourite Musical Artist(s): Vienna Teng, Dallas Green, Conor Oberst

Favourite Band(s): Margot and the Nuclear So and So's, Bon Iver

Favourite Day: Thursday

Favourite Month: November

What else is there to know about me?

- I don't like my birthday. I never have.

- I hate everything about my appearance.

- I'm going to disappoint my parents

- I can't be honest about myself with the people I love the most

- I can't be honest with myself

- I love to write, but I'm afraid to

- I love to prove people wrong

- I only wear neutrals

- I'm a fairly boring individual with interesting stories

- I've been clinically depressed since 7th grade

- I don't have any talents

- I don't have much confidence, but I'm not very humble...at least not as much as I should/want to be

- I don't know how my mind works. I don't know how I think.

- All I know is that I don't know.

Things

This posting everyday thing is quite challenging...thusly I've been failing...again. However, I have just finalized my schedule (thank the universe for working in my favor) and I will be able to focus much more time on the act of writing than I was previously able to.

I think I'm going to try to make multiple posts everyday to make up for my lack of posting... We'll see how that goes.

Skewing completely away from classes we have the fact that there are a handful of people that I'm slightly crushing on/who could be potential love interests/ this is absolutely amazing because it never happens.

Hmm. I also need to skype my best friend and set aside a time when I can go see her or she can come see me or we can do something together somewhere and just be reunited. this would make me extremely happy.

Oh. & my sister is coming to visit me sometime in the next two weeks!! :D

Fuck yeah!

& even bigger news...is still to come. I would really like to talk about it, but I've been sworn to secrecy... even from my blog.

Masks part 2

So I continued writing my story/ hopefully one day a novel. I'm not sure how I feel about it. It will need a lot more work.. but its interesting.... I think.

To begin, I'll say I live in London. In a flat in London, actually. I'm not British. Though I wish I were. Maybe then I wouldn't be so lonely, if that make any sense at all. Oh my, look at me ramble. I truly am sorry for that.

My flat is decently sized; more than enough space for me and my library. I'm hoping that will change soon, in all aspects imaginable. Oh, my. It's started raining again, granted there's no surprise- it's London. I haven't left my flat in three days. Not because I haven't wanted to or haven't had places to go, but I don't quite know how to leave or why I should...even for important things, like food.

I've been feeling lost lately and I hope that you'll deal with that, though I feel it rude to impose this on you. But, if you continue to read then you are in effect offering your consent and I no longer have a need to feel guilty. I no longer feel guilty. Forgive me for that, if you must. or don't. But please continue to read. It's imperative that I get this out and get it out to you. Yet I concede that regardless of whether or not you continue to read, this is already in print, so it is already out of me. This should then make me feel better. It should be cathartic. It should be freeing. But its the shoulds that screw everything up. Because this act of writing. This act of writing to you is changing me, and changing our relationship with every stroke that flows from my pen. Where was this going?

I've gotten lost in the process of writing that I really don't know where I am. But this, this is far more comfortable-dealing with the loss of self control rather than the loss of self. Back to the flat. My bedspread is in disarray, it's a chocolate/taupe color, surrounded by victorian blue sheets and pillow cases. I don't actually know the name of the blue, but I'll let you decide the shade from my description. My couch is in the corner. It's the most lonely shade of grey. I find it funny that I still own a couch I never use; a couch I got for friends that never see me. Is this ie root of my loneliness? Could it really be that simple? Should I just get rid of the couch? Should I blame the couch. Should I blame my friends? Should I blame myself or should I even blame at all? Because, really, what's the point? It doesn't change anything. This is why I hate writing...that's a lie. I love writing. I just prefer reading. It takes my mind somewhere else, where I don't have to think about things like this, at least until I stop reading... and then, all the thoughts I should've had come flooding to me. Like a dam that's just been broken.

Homework From the Previous Week.

Time, stress and anxiety were the main causes of my failure to write a novel. Though, in all actuality, it probably had more to do with laziness and taking a cop out by blaming it on my workload. The sad part is, I outlined the entire story. I know what Io want to write and mostly how I want to write it.... though as I attempt again, its getting more and more difficult. Regardless, I couldn't continue. Maybe I feel like I should absorb more culture and points of inspiration from which I can draw- films, music, books, tv, art, photographs, nature...life? I'm not entirely sure. But then again, when would I write? Would I even be able to write? In short, I don't know.

Today I went to store. It was good. There were things I wanted. Mom said "NO!" I got sad. She bought me a ball. I now have a ball. It's blue. I don't like blue.

Breathe

I'm in a far less creative mood than I was but a few hours ago. So I've decided to write some song lyrics because I always find that soothing. Since essentially my day went from crappy to okay back to crappy to great and ending on crappy.

Breathe Me by Sia

Help, I have done it again.

I have been here many times before.

Hurt myself again today.

And the worst part is there's no one else to blame.

Be my friend.

Hold me. Wrap me up.

Unfold me. I am small. I'm needy.

Warm me up, and breathe me.

Ouch! I have lost myself again.

Lost, myself and I am no where to be found.

Yeah, I think that I might break.

Lost myself again and I feel unsafe.

Be my friend.

Hold me. Wrap me up.

Unfold me. I am small. I'm needy.

Warm me up, and breathe me.

Be my friend.

Hold me. Wrap me up.

Unfold me. I am small. I'm needy.

Warm me up, and breathe me...

In the morning it will be a brand new day and I'm hoping everything will come together the way it's supposed to... and by "supposed to," I mean the way I want it to.

Fun!

Computer Science is surprisingly very fun. I'm quite pleased with the way the course is going/what I'll be able to do in a semesters time.

Hell even in a months time. Its different. Definitely. But fun. I'm reminded of a line from legally blonde that goes something like, "this class will prepare

you to speak in a new language."

I find that incredibly true for CS since programming languages are so

different and their references/classes are in a backwards order than one would ordinarily suspect.

Basically its like reading right to left, while also reading left to right....so it's a bit confusing. Regardless, lab was really quite exciting today.

P.S. In honour of the fun I've been having later here's a wonderful number

by that group.

Masks

So I'm going to share the first page I have of the novel I attempted over the summer.. but would really like to finish one day. I didn't think it flowed well with the last post so I decided to make another, granted I could have waited a day, but I didn't because I'm simply in the mood to type.

Anyway, here it is:

Everything seems empty. Everything seems forced. It's a little unsettling to think about-the emptiness that is. It's interesting, though. The daily interactions between and amongst people, the "hello's" and "how are you's," the chats, the gossip, the yelling, the crying, the "i love you's" (which I've come to believe has lost all of its once sacred, special meaning because of its over use) and even the "goodbyes." Its hard to see honesty in anything anymore, even the salutations. These same things also seem forced, as though it it expected to be a certain way or do a certain thing and doing it for approval, as though we rely on everyone else to tell us who we are or what we are, for that matter. And then after that is gone, all we're left with is silence. Peaceful, serene, calming, lovely silence. That's why I read (or try to)- to get there sooner and keep the emptiness away for as long as possible. But where are my manners, I must introduce myself...shouldn't I? Or is that just another empty and forceful gesture that has lost all meaning too? I'm not sure, but I will tell you about myself, or rather who I think I am (the verdict is still out), since I already know so much about you. Or I don't. Regardless, I'm going to say i do. We all do it anyway.

So that's all I have so far.. that was what I accomplished in 3 months (though it actually only took me like 20 minutes to write). I'm hoping to extend it, add on and revise.. so that it can actually be something. Someday.

Current music mood: Poses by Rufus Wainwright :]

Fail

So, interestingly enough, I'm taking a Fiction class... at which I'm already sort of failing... Since this was supposed to have been done days ago...granted the site has been in existence previously, yet I've failed at updating... Therefore, there is some all around fail going on with me at the moment.

Well at the moment I'm really tired and stressed and excited and a whole slew of emotions. 1. Because I do too much and I over exert myself/unnecessarily make things more difficult then they have to be and freak about anything and everything and its sad. 2. I'm excited about life, though I'm stressed, I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing so there is no room for complaint. 3. I auditioned for A Capella groups which is just splendid because I think they went well....hopefully. And I'm really excited for this writing class simply because it gives me more of a reason/drive to write creatively and naturally and I can't put things off (anymore) and this, this makes me happy.