[Yes, I’m starting a December quote challenge because, well, at least one every year, yeah?]
The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed. – Carl Jung
Sometimes, the reaction bubbles for a few years straight, and it’ll sudden explode; other times, the bubbling gentles until there is nothing.
I’m still at the point where, for some of my friends, I’m trying to figure out if it’s long-term bubbling, future explosion, or bubbling that’ll lead to nothing. (All I know for certain is I’ll have continuous bubbling for about…3~5 people. The others are complete unknowns.)
A great example is one of my best friends, Lydia (I’m already snickering as I type this.)
A few days ago, we were talking about something, and as reactions to our topic, we practically said “cockblocker” at the same time.
I have a point out a few things:
– we rarely ever say that word
– it was a huge jump from our conversation
– WHAT EVEN???
Most often it’s the small things that make us stop and go, “Oh. OH. *bursts into laughter*”
During high school, because I hung out with this friend a lot, I started copying her mannerisms. That was more disturbing than cute, and I had to force myself to stop it.
But some of Lydia’s habits have definitely rubbed off on me, little things such as tea preferences, baking preferences, etc. etc. For her, my craziness has definitely had an effect, and the wonderful thing is that she completely embraces it, which makes me feel really good about being who I am.
May you have a handful of friendships that will bubble for life.
Quote taken from here.
It’s foggy. And wet.
The white sky contrasts beautifully with the dark ground.
As I stare at the raindrops racing furiously across the window, I wonder, are my tears in those drops? Are someone else’s tears in the crystal-like jewels?
What kind of tears were they? Angry, sad, happy, loving?
Do they know that I’m thinking about them, whoever, wherever they are?
As the raindrops chase after each other and leave my sight, they leave behind very small trails, as if to remind me of their existence.
“I was here! Don’t forget! Don’t forget about me…”
An innate fear of life on this planet is being forgotten. We want to remembered, known that we lived, to not fade away like fleeting dreams on a hot summer day.
Will you forget me?
I had an argument with my mom (again), and before you say, “How unhealthy!” or “How disrespectful!”, hear me out first.
My parents are not perfect like most parents, and an issue that I’ve had with them is communication. No talk, no truths, only perceptions. It can be really dangerous, especially things that pertains to my future, my decisions, etc. etc.
Don’t get me wrong: they’re not bad parents. They tried, and they get full credit for trying. In their 20-year long assignment to raise me, I would personally like to believe that they tried very hard, and that’s what matters to me. I think that if I really hated them, I wouldn’t have sat through an 11-hour car ride home. I honestly wouldn’t have.
Back to the issue: communication.
We talk about very boring things: school, people, food. We definitely talk a lot; I call her at least once per few days or less, and every phone call can easily end up to be an hour long. We also message constantly, so I confidently say that we keep in touch.
My mom has a bad habit of believing that she shoulders the blunt of everything bad in this world, and yes, overrate herself in other’s achievements. I do the opposite; I automatically assume that I’m the cause of everything bad, and I tend to never take credit for most things (is…is it alright for me to take credit??), and I’m often told that I apologize too often.
…This isn’t the best combination, really.
“I’m doing this for you.” “I just want the best for you.” “I believed it was the best decision.”
She’s got a whole arsenal of excuses, and that’s the thing that gets to me, you know? Not apologizing.
Apologies are important to me, because very few people I’ve met actually think they’re capable of mistakes. (If you’re human and alive, then yes, you are capable of mistakes.) But more importantly, apologies tell me that you now believe that your words (or actions) could’ve been phrased differently, or that you were just simply rude, that you were wrong.
My mom rarely apologizes because she believed that she did everything right, that all the problems and complications originate from my side, but problems are rarely ever one-sided.
Summary: I snapped at her yesterday for accusing me of not studying, even though she didn’t even bother to ask me about what I was doing on the computer, and with 8 weeks of carefullyO built stress, she beautifully caused my sanity to crumble for a few moments, when I went into holy-shit-back-the-fuck-off-please-mode.
Argument: School, stress, future (what’cha gonna do? I DON’T KNOW), homework, grades, lets compare our pessimism, etc. etc. (I actually won’t go into details at the moment because I honestly sobbed my freaking heart out and yes, I’m really tired after so many hours of homework at starbucks today.)
Oh yeah, I apologized for my shitty behavior. (I’m always a piece of shit–“AMY STOP SAYING THAT”–oh shit)
And we proceeded to bond through Snapchat and multiple cat sounds app. Oh, and we also worked out a wrong math issue (in which someone managed to get $51 from $50, was absolutely idiotic).
Life is not perfect. Our words and voices are sometimes streaked with tears and unheard sighs of regret. Occasionally, our hearts will freeze and colors will fade, yet time will not stop. The world lives on, ignorant of our sufferings at the moment, because it knows with certainty that better days will come.
「ヤバイ ヤバイ ヤバイ」は…３週間前から始まっていたけど、ずっと時間（うそでしょうね）がなくて、アップしなかった…ごめんなさい。
Summary of the above: I promised myself that I’d write a short post completely in Japanese every 2 weeks, but as you can obviously, that promise has since been broken and ignored for quite a while. In the case I don’t have the time to write a Japanese post, I’ll add a few sentences of Japanese into normal posts, and while I know that’s going to be annoying for those who can’t read Japanese, I’d greatly appreciate it if you would understand my actions. m(o´･ω･`o)m
Alright, that’s over.
Lets talk about what I’ve been thinking about recently…
What do we want from life? What do we want to be? Who do we want to be with? Where do we want to be 20 years from now?
What are you going to be? What college are you going to? What kind of house do you want? When do you want to marry?
Guess which set of questions I think about most?
(Emergency = Money that must be put aside every year for unexpected emergencies: injuries, unemployment, etc. etc.)
Though I’ve handled most of the bills for years, I still can’t be sure if this is entirely realistic for two fresh-out-of-college students. (Side note: My dad makes just a bit more than $30k and we managed to afford a condo, so maybe this isn’t too bad…?)
I’m so glad I’ve got such a great friend who’s willing to tolerate my behaviors and habits, who urges me to do what is ultimately best for my future (exhibit A: no procrastination or she hangs up on skype). I’m going to be terribly sad when she marries, a man she’ll love with all her heart and walk beside with, and I wish that her marriage will be warm and steady, that I’ll have the right to continue to be her friend and watch over her happiness.
Anyone who hurts her with illogical reasons will suffer first from her family, and then me. I will give you a punishment equal to your actions, urge to never repeat them, and find happiness elsewhere, if appropriate. She may not be Family, but she’s family to me, and there is a difference.
Haha, I sidetracked, but I do love my friend very much, and am willing to do a lot to ensure her happiness.
And that’s the keyword for this post: happiness.
Weeks ago, a friend told me he wasn’t happy here, and I was terribly saddened to hear that. When I thought about it later, I could only nod in agreement with his words: I am not happy either.
My parents and relatives look at me with such expectations in their eyes: a doctor, an intellect, a wealthy educator…
What they don’t understand is that I am none of those. Yes, I sometimes want to be a doctor or veterinarian or teacher, but in end, what I truly want to be is useful and happy. I want to be able to help those who require my abilities and skills, and to live my life quietly, happily.
Or really, have fun with my friends and families.
(Dear teenage girls,
Contrary to what social media and most romance fiction novels drill into your minds, life isn’t all about finding a lover or, dear gods, soul mate.
Not sparkly and lacking fangs,
PS: 1 out of 2 people have divorces. Flip the coin, see which one you’ll be. Also, have you heard of STDs?)
tl;dr my bestie is awesome, I just want to be happy, romance novels = setting unrealistic standards since 900 BC ;)
I’ve been sick for the past few days with terribly congested nostrils and a never-ending supply of mucus, and at precisely 10:38am this morning, during my computer science midterm, I thought to myself: fuck this.
(I did finish the exam, and was in the middle of triple-checking my answers. My paranoia acts up when I think I’ve done fine on a test.)
I really was close to falling asleep though… The congestion kept me up for the past two days, so I was already tired, and I also had muscle pain in my arms for reasons unknown.
[Another issue was regarding financial aid. I saw a bill for ~$4500 on my student account the other day, and I nearly peed in my pants, because I would definitely have to talk to my parents about taking out a loan if we’re going to be charged $4500 every quarter. Luckily, I checked today and it’s all fine; financial aid wasn’t taken into account last week, which was why I saw the terribly large total charge posted on my account.]
I actually thought about not going home this thanksgiving, instead staying on campus to catch up on the homework I neglected these few days I was sick.
But…home. Home. With a capital H.
I’m so tired of this place, of these people…not that most of the people aren’t nice, but there are friends, and then there’s friends. No one on campus can compare to my bestie, though some of them are pretty goddamn awesome. But it’s just different…perhaps I’m judging them using my bestie as a scale?
My little friend group has been making plans, and that’s something to look forward to! (Desperately trying to ignore the fact that winter break is only 2 weeks long—–)
tl;dr fuck this shit i’m going home
人生は松本潤さんが言ったように、「ヤバイ ヤバイ ヤバイ」
I’m about to walk to a secluded corner of the beach and stay there until time stops and life ends, because this is too much.
Things on my priority list:
1. Health Insurance – Will I be able to complain to a doctor about life next year too??
2. Bills – My credit card takes the blunt of our bills, and since I had to purchase a plane ticket ($315), I’m about to max out my card…
3. Mom’s health – she had a gastroscopy recently, and she didn’t respond well to whatever they injected into her for the procedure. My mom has a terrible habit of hiding her pain, so if she had to sleep for an entire afternoon, it must’ve been really bad.
4. Being happy – It’s really sad how this can never be at the top of the list because, well, life. I do wonder if I’ll ever be happy though…
5. Talking with friends – I talk to my best friend on a regular basis, and we skype a lot too. (Lifetime total is 650 hours of skyping, our goal is 800 by the end of this year, which seems totally reasonable since we skype an average of 3~6 hours. ;) ) I also try to keep in contact with friends who are far away (I found out that I’m getting a care package!!) by mail or FaceBook, but I’m having a harder time trying to stay in touch with a friend in the same college because we’re so busy all the time.
6. Classes – ’nuff said.
7. Scoliosis – I…skipped out on this year’s annual exam, and I don’t think I can get an appointment for winter break, so…oopsies? I’m just worried that it’s getting worse…
8. アパート－The plates on the drying rack sometimes still have oil on them…so I take it out and redo it, especially if they’re my plates. -__- You’d think that girls would be better, but not really. Have I mentioned the fact that our tub has been clogging up quite a bit over the past few weeks? I should really call maintenance and have them unclog it, but because I don’t know if we’ll be charged extra for this, I don’t want to do it, and the other girls don’t seem to care that the water drains really slowly…
I’m getting complaints that I don’t respond to messages fast enough, and part of me is just so tired of it all. (Because really, I’m not obligated to reply, nor do all conversations require a reply, because if I kept replying, when would I sleep??)
If you need to reach me urgently, please just call me and for the love of god, please do not leave a message. I absolutely hate messages, and I will refuse to listen to them until I get annoyed enough at the message notification that won’t go away.
With text, you’ve got to bug me constantly. I easily forget to reply to someone, and here’s an example: I was talking to a friend who lost something important, and I just broke off because I forgot about the conversation.
If you cannot reach me even then, your remaining choices:
- get someone to get me (make Lydia call me if you can)
- come to me
Dear next person who dares leave a message,
I don’t like you. *presses 7*
Fuck you very much,
( 7 = delete message)
I’m in an intro to Java class, and my friend from HS who took this class last year is now a tutor, and today, after staring blankly at a piece of code for a while, my partner and I decided to quit because we weren’t going anywhere. (We’re also really tired and terribly hungry…) Before we gave up though, I messaged my friend from HS for help, and unfortunately, I didn’t see his reply until my partner and I parted ways. But I decided to meet up with my friend anyways, because hey, if he’s willing to, I should really take advantage of the small frame of “free” time he has.
And thus a most productive two hours began, and I have more than just a few things to take away from it.
For most people, skills and abilities were not things they were born with. Many of us have to work hard, or even harder than most people to be good at what we do, and looking at my friends always gives me this huge surge of motivation to try.
But at this point, I think it’s time for me to start asking for help for asking for help, because if I’m afraid to voice my questions, then perhaps the true question is: do I even need a voice?
I have a handful of very, very close friends, and I’ve got to make a post about one of them because I’ve just suddenly realized how close we actually are, and that I probably couldn’t have made it through freshman year if she wasn’t there for me.
First, we talk about everything. Seriously.
Some common topics:
And she’s just so, so amazing. Yeah, she’s not Einstein, but I don’t want Einstein. I love my friend who tolerates a lot of my annoying behaviors, and always gives me something to look forward to after tiring classes. She doesn’t approve of some of my actions, but it’s because she wants me to do better, not watch one more episode of [insert series name here].
She’s not going to see this (probably), but she’s definitely an anchor in my life, a point of reference when things are different, for the good and bad.
We skyped for 53 hours at one point:
Holy shit. That was an experience I won’t forget for a long time, unless we manage to break that record, which is rather likely considering both of us like to study late into the night and all.
She’ll laugh at me sometimes, but usually she laughs with me, and it’s a really energizing thing, bawling in laughter with your friend who’s 5 hours away by car. And we make plans. We make so many plans.
Okay, sorry about this random post, but I was talking to her earlier and I realized that we talk nearly every single day, and overall, ever since I went to college, I’ve spent more time skyping with her (than talking to my parents) + (talking to other friends not in my college) + (doing homework for certain classes). The thing is, we leave skype on while we do things, and we are absolutely fine with that. Those 53 hours wasn’t a continuous conversation. We do usually end it at around 7~9 hours each call. We don’t usually exceed 7~9 hours unless it’s an off day or the weekend. x)
Now, I need to remember to ask her if she got my letter a week ago…