I had to do a project at uni. I was very skeptical about it because it doesn’t really relate to anything that we do. It was a photography project. Now that I finished it I really appreciate that we were to do it. This is it.
Wednesday, 26 March 2014
Good evening. Morning, rather.
I've not posted in a while. I know. I'm sorry, I got carried away living. Scary, isn't it?
Why judge people upon our first impression? It is inevitable yet what makes us think that just because someone is this or that is really who they are. Aren’t you wearing a mask? You will probably think you aren’t. Think about it though, how you, are you? So you shave? So you wear make up? Do you go to expensive shops to buy clothes you like? And why do you like them? Is it because you just like them or is it because you’ve seen someone else wearing something similar? Or maybe you’ve seen a model wearing it in a commercial? And even if you just like it, where did your style come from? Was it your mother who impregnated your brain with the idea of binary opposition? On the other hand, if you don’t care about fashion nor style (and those are two entirely different things) because you have more important things to worry about than fabric… what you wear is how people perceive you, does that mean that you don’t care what people think about you? Good. But then you might get judged on your lack of care on your visual image. And the circle closes - you cannot escape it. But why judge?
I used to judge a lot. And then I looked at myself and what I saw on the outside does not reflect what I am inside at all. I wear a lot of black. I love black. When I go out and want to look hot I wear black and put bold make up on. When I’m upset I put black on and then leave the make up plain. When I don’t give a shit, I put black on anyway.
My mother looked at me while I was asking why people screw me over all the time. She said that the way I look and present myself makes me look like I’m not a person to fuck with and I don’t look like the caring, loving and fragile person that I am. And maybe I don’t want people to perceive me as who I really am so that I don’t get hurt. But by putting the mask on I attract a certain type of people who do hurt me because as they get to know me better they realize I’m not what they were hoping for. They wanted the ‘mean bitch’ that I present myself to be. Reckless, isn’t it? Why not just dress like ‘me’? That’s a difficult question though. Who am I? What would I have to wear in order to be me? I don’t enjoy myself colorful. I like being plain and bold. I’m not plain but I don’t crave patterns. I like looking at them but I wouldn’t want to wear them because I would feel like I look like a clown. Who would I be if I changed the way I looked? Who am I? Who are you? Who really are you?
I’m trying to find myself but it’s really difficult. I was meaning to call the “Pilot” – ‘The Ice Lady Returns’’. I want to be cold and mean –careless, like I used to be - but it’s all so difficult. Later on about that, it’s another rant topic worth a new post.
Don’t judge. We all look how we look for many reasons that are too deep to dig out. You don’t know who you are, do you? Ask yourself. Who are you?
I will post a thought on the inner layer soon.
Thank you :)
Sunday, 23 February 2014
I particularly enjoy one thing. It is peculiar and very trivial. I grew very fond of walking about town in the evening, when the sun is still up but it’s well on its way down and everyone is off home to their families. Oh I know… not safe… what even in the context of safety these days anymore? I mean… I remember when I was younger, I was a kid for crying out loud, and I would just be running about up until 9 in the evening and it wasn’t anything strange, the social services weren’t involved, my mother would shout me in because she would have known I’d have been at an approachable distance. Back then I also lived in a huge city, 5 times bigger than where I exist now and where I currently live there’s subway so, by all means, big enough.
I put my headphones on. Brace my back. Look forward. Walk. Keep walking.
I like to think about all the people that influenced something inside me, made me who I am. There is this one person that isn’t quite out of my life but I don’t associate with him anymore. We had, well I guess still have, a very strange kind of relationship. We were never together. We’ve never done anything with one another. But we so loved each other. I guess I still love him in a way - it’s strange.
Him and I… we had that love/hate thing. I think we hate each other now, not sure though, I could never be sure of him… but we aren’t speaking to each other, so I guess we hate each other now. We aren’t indifferent to one another, so it must be it.
We met in a doorway. We spoke and then we both realized that we could feel something we haven’t felt in a long time. We didn’t know what to do about what we felt because of the positions that we were in at the time. We were both committed to other people and the consequences would have been too great if we were to go with the feelings. Essentially, the satisfaction could not justify the pain we would cause, while at the same time, we would be in - we were both unsteady, uneasy and uneverything.
I wish I could at least say that he made me cry like no one else, but… he didn’t. He made me unable to cry. I always found myself sitting down; possibly on a bench somewhere in a park; possibly next to a pond; with my eyes open, blanked out; wanting to cry but being incapable of it. I’d sit there, get cold, go home, hate him a little more, so on and so forth. While at the same time he would go out, have a few and hate me a little too.
Wednesday, 5 February 2014
I already wrote what I was going to write today yesterday but then I thought, maybe another time. Since I haven’t yet figured out what exactly I’m trying to achieve here I decided to rant about friendship today.
Right now, I’m hating my friends, apart from two but they live far away and they don'treally speak to me. Maybe that’s why we love each other and don’t jump into each other’s throats. Well to be fairly honest with you, I don’t jump into my friends’ throats anyway –they jump into mine. As much as I try and be helpful, caring and full of love for them, they all treat me as a mare substitute. Well, they ‘appreciate’ what I offer to them but as soon as I need something –thin air, woo hoo we do not exist. How is that fair? They judge me on everything I do and tell me what to change about myself all the time – oh you care too much, stop caring; oh you’ve gained a bit of weight, stop eating so much; oh you’ve lost too much weight, eat something already – so on and so forth. When everything is fine, everything is fine; just you wait till you need a shoulder.
Be good to your friends, especially those ones who forgive you and care about you. Imagine you tried hard to please everyone and they all took you for granted. Isn’t friendship meant to work both ways? See, if you’ve fallen out with someone – reach out to them. If they’re stubborn idiots, be better than them and speak to them first. Go on, it doesn’t hurt.., and your pride… well your pride will be alright after 10 minutes.
All I’m trying to say here is open your eyes and please don’t hate me for saying this. I’m just trying to be nice, always trying. I suppose that being nice doesn’t get you anywhere but I’ll talk about that some other time – I’ve already got an idea in my head on a full big moan about that.
And if you are the nice one who cares for everyone and only gets spit in the eye… stop for a bit and run away for a second. They will notice you’re missing soon enough, maybe even reach out to you, who knows – they might need toilet tissue or something.
Take care my dear new friend.
Tuesday, 4 February 2014
I was thinking about starting a blog for quite some time. Actually, every time something bad happens to me I consider it. I think now it’s the time. Don’t worry- nobody died. And before you press the exit button- I am not a 14 year old rebellious kid. I’m all grown up, or at least I’m supposed to be. I’m not old, not so young anymore, young at heart. Or maybe not – not anymore.
For the purpose of this I am not going to reveal my name or face. Maybe one day – so many maybe’s. But that’s what life is all about, isn’t it? Everything we do these days is a maybe. I feel like maybe isn’t really a ‘maybe’ anymore and it’s a plain no. Agree? Maybe?
I would much rather call this a thought book and not so much a blog. Maybe even a book. That's possible, it might turn out to be a book. Argh… Introductions are tough. It’s all about the marketing and I’m terrible at it. I actually dated someone who studied marketing once. Dated – Ha - Ha. 3 dates and then the object turned into another maybe. Not that I wasn’t interested… But forget about it... Garbage – and I’m not aiming to make this URL into a piece of garbage. I want to talk. I think I need to talk and I’m hoping you will enjoy my rant. Ah… I’m hoping it will inspire you… but we shall see.
I live in a big city. It’s a bit too small for me but that might be because I lived here since I was a kid and I know enough people to always bump into someone. And as much as I love bumping into people, sometimes I would like to disappear. It’s impossible. I have this fantasy of being able to purchase a big loft in a city like New York one day. Imagine living in New York – it would be easier to bump into a celebrity than to someone you actually know - it would be a miracle. You would feel invisible. If you, my friend, live in New York, do you feel invisible?
Right now though, I wish I was on an empty field on a hot summer evening, when the sun is going down and you can only hear insects crawling in the grass and grasshoppers singing a wee song. You wouldn’t feel invisible. Oh no. You would feel exposed.
Anyway, to keep this brief, goodbye. Have a good night. Come back soon.