We will see how this goes. I feel like I have dreams that have yet to surface - it's as if I am waiting for something. Waiting for the time that I go to grad school, waiting for the next country that I move to, waiting for that person, waiting. Fuckin' ridiculous.
I often sit and feel sad on the inside. I feel sad because I feel lonely. I can also feel lonely even with lots of people around me. It's sort of a lonely in the universe type of feeling. That oh I'm a human being feeling, or perhaps the I'm about to be on my period feeling - one of those. I find it weird when I behave that way and realize sometimes things are out of my control. I suppose the feeling that my feelings are out of my control is what makes me sad. I don't really see sadness as something that is...sad.
I see sadness as something that is very human. When I try to put words to feelings it's very hard. I am met with many conflicts in my life. My face feels sun burnt. I am lazy. I don't quiet feel talented at much. There's a cockroach on the loose in my apartment. As a child, that is okay, your world is your world. Yet as an adult, sometimes I find the limitless choices I have to do with my time pretty overwhelming.
What do I do now? Who do I spend it with? How do I make friends? Where are my friends? What just happened?
Oh yeah, they used to be in Vietnam. They used to be in Berkeley. They used to be in Chino. They used to be in Ontario. Now they are suppose to be in Los Angeles. Great, someone missed the announcement.
My mind has developed but I think my social skills have highly receded.
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The other day I had a really bad day. Two human beings decided to publicly yell at me.
"Miss you are very inconsiderate" - Man in his truck, rolling down his window.
"You with the glasses. You have NO manners. SHAME ON YOU." - Old lady after I hopped on the bus before her thinking I had time to run in.
To think I found these people interesting in their own right. I could write something interesting about them. Like the man who called me inconsiderate who clearly was not from my back alleyway who clearly did not understand the rule to go around me who clearly felt the need to roll down his window to yell at me when clearly I had to stop my car to close the gate. Clearly he was interesting. Clearly the old lady that yelled at me had the most awesome walking helper. It was purple. And she could sit on it. Clearly she was old and grumpy and did not like the fact that I hopped on the bus before her. Clearly, she is old. Clearly I just came from Vietnam and these kind of nonsense politeness does not exist. Clearly she felt the need to yell at me. Clearly I wish I wasn't wearing my glasses. Clearly she was interesting. And perhaps I would of been interesting to her to had her heart not been hardened by her age, her physical ailments and the city around her.
For the whole day I tried to stay calm. These kind of things make me extremely sad. I don't like to be yelled at. I don't like to be in trouble. How horrible of them to yell at me when they don't know me. How very inconsiderate of them. How very shameful of them.
How sadly human of them.
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