Designated Friend

I’m your personal friend, your designated voice of reason when you find yourself so lost in all the frenzies of the incline. From the lovely jukebox and coloring on the table-clothes to the divine group in an upscale diner to the dark room full of dancing people leaving their worries behind with a couple of sensational hours making love to music with movements of their bodies intermingled with others. There is such a rush of excitement and I’m pleasantly surprised by the fascination it brings to me. I’m not a pessimist, I just fear for hearts and protect the ones I love in any way I can. So with the rush of this lifestyle must come some withdrawal, some uncertainty, and some fear that something within grasp can slip away. I remember feeling these feelings when I was madly in love with musicians, and spent some of the most incredible nights of my life in sheer bliss, only to wake up to the rebound. I see it in all of them, even the ones I’ve just seen in photographs. The worry that their day will end and the dream they are living will just dissolve and morph itself into the dream of someone else. Life is short, but it is real, and it is beautiful. I want to help you see that every day. I want you to enjoy the talent and the journey. I want you to revel in all the glory that you deserve. But with all of that I want your core essence to remain. So on those days when you need yourself we will find that inner peace. And bring you back to Center.

Blurry Vision

She was crying and walking on the street and we both did a double take and then realized at the same split second that we were in fact eachother. I am the kind of person that runs on time but lately I have been running late in a weird way. But somehow last night I was running an hour early. And I never walk down that avenue. So fate kind of placed me there at that time while she finished her conversation on her phone and I heard her words about her hunger. So I took her arm and led her towards a sushi place. It’s weird how being hungry can make your whole life seem like it’s falling apart and the entire world like it’s coming to an end. It’s also weird to think how just a banana or someting as easy can fix this. But if you’ve been doing so well and sober, and this edge from hunger can confuse you to the point of needing a drink, then it’s certainly clear from this scenario that God did in fact send me to you at that moment on the street an hour earlier than I would ever be in that area and three avenues west of where I’d normally walk. I get it. Irony kicks in three hours after the miso soup and sushi rolls when at the 80’s party after one mere drink on the rocks sent me tumbling down a dark hole with no clear idea of what was going on around me. I remember bits and peices like a connect the dots page in an activity book for children. I remember dancing to “Jessie’s Girl,” Leaving the Canal Room and eating three chocolate munchkins with Alexa because they wouldn’t sell me just one. And spilling hot coffee on my shirt and neatly placing the full cup of coffee on top of a garbage can because I was scared it would burn me to death. We went to another place where I couldn’t figure out which things on the menu were food and which were drinks. More people joined us and I have no idea when or what made me get up and leave everyone. I just knew it was time to go. I got in a cab which I never do, and I certainly never throw up. I have a phobia of vomit, and the last time I had to was after getting my wisdom teeth pulled and I needed my little sister to hold my hand because it frightens me so much. Last night my little sister wasn’t there and I was sicker than I’ve ever ever been. At one point I woke up and realized I was in a bathtub full of cold water with all my clothes on. I thought I was dead. One drink did this to me. In a way now I see even more why me running into her on the street was more of a gift to her than I could have seen before. That one drink could have been deadly. So I took it instead…and now I’m in recovery.

Narcissist

There is no one more perfect to describe this word. Someone so entirely full of themselves that their walls are covered in photos of themselves, they lose their breath watching a video of themselves, and get emotional while listening to themselves sing. They think of no-one but themselves. They find no value in anyone else but themselves unless that other is doing something for them. They think the world was created and continues to exist to be of service to them and their desires. And that goes for everyone and everything in the world as well. The funny thing about this is that they desperately seek other people’s approval, and need to be worshipped.

He doesn’t trust his own obsession so he needs to get others on-board. What this means to me is that I end up pitying this poor pathetic gorgeous individual. Because he doesn’t even trust himself enough to trust what he loves most, which is himself. So he’s insecure, full of himself, and somebody who nobody should trust.

Swing, Swing

This past weekend I managed to ward off the cutest guy I’ve ever spoken to in a bar in NYC. I did this because somehow I decided to tell him off and say everything I would tell any irresponsible bad quality guy. Which he wasn’t. As far as I know the only thing he was, was incredibly cute. Oh well. I also went to the gym this morning, ran seven miles really well, showered, and came back to my locker to realize I had left my clothes for the day at home. With class starting in twenty minutes, I was wrapped in a towel, with only sweaty pants and sports top, feeling entirely stupid. Thank goodness Danielle is an angel and Dave was home. I ended up in adorable jeans and a Cubs t-shirt. It feels really good to hang out in Soho in that ensemble. Dreama and I both noticed the moon tonight but she beat me to texting it to my attention. It’s kind of sick and wonderful all at the same time that Pete and J’s show this Wednesday is what is getting me through this week. Oh and I get to swing on porch swings tomorrow night at Nico’s party…while drinking alcohol. Adult life can be fun after all!!!

For Show

Ilisha’s fashion show was not just an afternoon of snapping some photos. It was a noon till night day. A noon till night day which was outlasted by my drunken state. Being surrounded by models getting ready for that amount of time is not as boring as one would think. Especially in an entirely white, massive loft in Chinatown with Hurricane Hanna visiting outside. Nico amazes me the way she takes charge and just does things with so much confidence. She posed all the models, took pictures, arranged the set, and so many other tasks. All with brilliance and poise. And she did it so well too. So I snapped many photos on my Rebel, and I hope in some way I keep dong things like this, and perhaps slowly my style will take form and be loved by people. Even if it’s just at the side for a substantial hobby.

When the day ended at night in the pouring rain, I got out of the cab at Rockwood with no plan on staying for more than a minute. But the new bartender seduced me with his facial structure and I ended up with a glass of red in my hand rather quickly. JV’s show started two hours later, and I was still there. His drummer’s rad, his songs still move me, and 3 a.m. saw me still standing. So at this point in time I’ve been a combination of drunk and hung-over and drunk again for over 48 hours. And with that I embrace Monday.

My Goal is a Goal

I like rooftops and talented young people. I am thrilled by their journeys and try and gain inspiration for myself. Chloe was able to share a string of drunken psychoanalytic thoughts she had about them and me. She wonders what the essence of my attraction to all the arts is. So we got to the bottom of the barrel of my core where I was hiding some real issues. I love all the arts, but I am not an artist. I dabble and I search and wish I could do. But I just love it. There are sayings about people like me who can’t do X so they do Z. Like those who don’t wed, plan weddings sort of thing. But clearly I have some creativity in me. I don’t want to be in promotions. I don’t want to be a pushy sales person. I love music and I love musicians, but I am not a musician, and the truth is I don’t know as much about it as I lead people to believe. I understand the dynamics of other people’s emotions. I understand the most warped relationships, a musician’s innermost dilemmas and challenges, and I see through the veil of so many people’s projections. I get it. I love writing even if I’m not good at it, and I love photography even though I’m just an amateur. I have very little confidence, and that’s something that has to change if I’m going to pursue anything properly. I have to let go of my nervousness, because it is just immobilizing me, and not allowing me to live each day, because I am so trapped in the worries of the future. If I visualize negative things, they will become reality. It’s all energy. Brigitte said this, and I know she’s right because it’s the exact thing I would have and probably have said to others as words of advice. It is just so hard to see my own life with the same clarity as I see everyone else’s. So I am meant to make a list of talents I do have, things I love to do, and people I know. These are the steps to secure a goal and vision, even if it’s merely a short term one, so that I have something to work towards. And to hang on to.

Wanderer

It’s like a little curse that was put over my baby basinet when I was just a newborn; only no good witch came and countered it. It may be for a number of reasons. My stringent background and my constant guilt because of where I come from and keep moving further away from. The fact that the friends from my childhood and immediate family are so ghostlike in their connection to me, if we are to be genuine- they simply don’t and can’t know the extent of who I am now. The fact that I’ve always been a wanderer and a floater in terms of friendships. But that may be just because I’m scared of being left alone in the end. I sabotage things before they can hurt me. It may seem controlling and strong, but it is the weakest form of control there is. In fact that control controls me, and tortures me. I don’t want to be consumed with this lack of trust and feeling of despair about the people I care for that come into my life. I don’t want to live in fear that it will all come to an end. I hate feeling that everything around me is just a transient journey, and I am left once again traveling elsewhere to something new. It’s like a curse of lonliness whilst having the biggest circle of friendlettes. How’s that for irony??

Laws of Attraction

Is that really true? Is the feeling of attraction always somewhat mutual? I kind of hope so. But it seems too good to be true. But I suppose it’s not too good to be true if it’s true only to some extent. Because if the extent does not lead to any follow through of the feelings, then it remains just a mysterious moment of magnetic inclination and then dismissed. Without pursuit. The only problem is if one of the attracted lets that attraction linger on their consciousness. Then it can even become slightly tragic.

Two-Cents & Non-Sense

Strangers in coffee shops have some great two cents for me once in a while. What do I do come January, thus the end of my entire college career? I seem to be considering anything and everything to ward off the inevitable ‘real world.’ But I do want to travel the world, and this kind of fell into my lap as a half planned adventure. Most people say just go for it now, because this is my one chance before I’m tied down to ‘real world’ responsibilities. I don’t really have the funds for it, but the coffee shop cents and sense in the form of two gentlemen, claim that if I can manage to make it happen I should. “Noone ever says ‘damn I wish I hadn’t taken that time and traveled and had the most incredible time and seen the most incredible sights,’ just do it.” Said the guy a few hours after starting his joint business/law degree at NYU. But then again, I do know part of what goes on inside my head, and I know that I’m scared shitless of making decisions. I have no idea what I want to do when I grow up. Should I stay or should I go? Should I move across the world or should I start my life here? Should I travel? Should I move someplace not quite all the way across the world? Should I just stay? With all these realities looming ahead, January seems way too close for comfort.