Sunday, May 29, 2011

There's Such a Lot of World to See

               These Lookbooks from Need Supply Co.  make me want to go on a road trip with my friends and wander aimlessly across the country. We can all be vagabond Gypsies who wear pretty vintage clothing, floppy hats, platform wedges, winged sunglasses, false eyelashes, and paint our lips with hues of reds, blues, pinks, purples, and nudes. Because we can; because we're free and young and our bones ache with adventure and wanderlust. Our mouths and fingertips will be stained with strawberry blood and our dashboard will be littered with maps that have lipstick paths drawn over the branch-like highways and roads. The trunk will be filled with old suitcases, a portable typewriter, sentimental souvenirs, diaries and pens, feather earrings, mismatched socks, snacks and a cooler for drinks (filled with strawberry lemonade and diet soda), cameras and rolls of film, purses, mixed CDs, sunscreen, water-melon flavored gum, hair ties, bobby pins, a straw hat, poetry books (Plath, Dickinson, Poe), heart-shaped sunglasses, a purple bobbed wig, leather satchels, jars of jam, and travel brochures.
               We shall claim the world as our own! As we travel around her pathways, we obtain a more refined and sophisticated understanding and admiration for everything and everyone. In our foolishness and childlike fun, we shall gain wisdom and experience. Notebooks and diaries will overflow with memories and good times and will later bring a smile to our creased and wrinkled faces as we reminiscence about our youth. Perhaps our children will read it and collect the photographs that documented the trip and maybe they’re see what’s its like to love life and be loved back by life and feel the thrill and exhilaration that we felt as we traveled with our heads hanging from the window and the wind breathing violently against our faces and tugging at our hair. Memories are only memories when they are remembered; they must be written or documented in someway so we never forget them. 
               I will never understand those who are satisfied in staying in one place for their entire life. Why doesn’t everyone feel that strong urge to wander, to run tugging at their muscles? I feel it everyday. I live through movies, books, travel brochures, photographs, or anything else that makes me feel like I’m in a different place, experiencing different things and people. I will do anything just to experience the temporary relief of escaping. I am trapped within insipid suburban hell. I am at that awkward phase in my life where I am neither a child nor an adult. I am starting to acquire adult-like responsibilities (driving, a job, more freedom) but I am still incapable of caring and paying for myself. I so desperately want to cherish the golden years of my youth and relish the time where all my expenses and needs are met by my parents; however, I can’t help but feel restless and bored. I thirst for knowledge and yearn for open spaces and beautiful places! 

Thursday, May 19, 2011

For I Am The Way

          “Riots not Diets”. That phrase has been echoing inside of my head ever since I started to get in touch with my “riot girl” roots. Last Friday, a rather insignificant event evoked this peculiar rage that I have suppressed inside. I am not an angry person by any means; usually when I’m mad, it doesn't manifest itself into screaming or violent fits. I am the secret brewer who remembers and never forgets. When I am irritated, I am passive and controlled (of course, there are exceptional events where I might not react in this way). I acknowledge that I have a subliminal tendency to bear grudges. I express my emotions through various forms of art whether it be drawing, writing, or music. I always find a way to vent.
          My recovery has nurtured the seedling inside my soul into a blossoming floweret. I feel I have a pretty acute awareness and understanding of who I am and what I like. As the school year comes to a close, I cannot help but think how far I have come since the beginning of the year. Some of my main goals for Sophomore year was to acquire more confidence, be more gregarious with my peers, and focus on my studies. While there is always room for improvement, I believe I have achieved more than what I ever imagined. I wish I could adopt the mindset I had when I first started recovery so I could accurately reflect on everything I have accomplished.
          I am! I simply am. And I’m so lucky and grateful to be alive. Each morning as the sun filtrates into my windows, my heart swells with jovial delight. Beauty lies within even the most obscure objects. I adore the thin slivers of golden rays that dance upon my typewriter in the morning. I love the way the world glitters as the sun shifts its positions throughout the day. I possess an infatuation with peculiar objects, artistic cinema, and books. If only you could experience what it was like to live in the chiaroscuro world of an eating disorder. I was balanced on a trapeze rope; coquetting with the apathy of death while tenuously adhering to the hope of life. The turmoil associated with yearning for eternal sleep yet fighting for the right of survival destroyed everything in my world. I was a gaping abyss devoid of any mirth or vivacity.
          When that hazardous balance begins to shift, you grope desperately in the darkness for something to grasp onto. Even as I lied in the wake of my destruction and reveled in the accomplishment I associated with my demise, I still fought for the little I had. I managed to acquire enough willpower and strength to lift myself out of the ashes and drag my cadaverous spirit towards whatever lay on the other side of my skewed world. Initially, I was dubious; I tread carefully and struggled to trust those who claimed they could help me. Before my hospital scare, there was no life beyond what I had. Those without eating disorders lived in another Universe. I had successfully alienated myself.
          Through my tribulations, I destroyed the iron cage wrapped around my mind and shed my sallow skin. I emerged victorious. I triumphed the evil that had wretched my heart and skewed my perception. The excruciating pain was alleviated through laughter, tenderness, and therapy. My threadlike hair grew thick and lustrous as my skin grew rosy and smooth. I was no longer skin stretched over bone; I was healthy, my cheeks were rosy, and my painted lips were always upturned. I loved and loved until I quivered and quaked. Everything was so beautiful. I began to feel everything so deeply and fiercely that I could barely contain myself.
          Since that day, my love and passion for living has grown. I see myself for who I am everyday as I look in the mirror. I am a feminist. I am a liberal. I am an artist. I am a writer. I am whoever I wish to be. Now, I realize I have shifted my train of thought from one thing to another and so I wish to address what I initially intended on saying. Perfection is merely something that only exists figuratively. I have tried to obtain it and I ultimately failed. With this knowledge, I have accepted my lot in life. I have embraced what I have and what I am. And this, for me, is the greatest accomplishment.
          “Riots not Diets”. Chant it within your head. Enlighten others with it. It should be looked down upon to criticize and punish yourself for being who you are. Because god dammit, you are. Simply are. The revolution that will destroy self-hatred starts with acceptance. Love and cherish yourself. And as one, all girls shall unite to destroy female stereotypes, gender standards, dieting, hateful names, discrimination, and misogyny.
          My darlings, my fellow females, you possess the power to rule the world.


Saturday, May 14, 2011

Fields of Gold

          With summer quickly approaching, my limbs began to ache with wanderlust. My family plans to visit the mid-west - Iowa, Wisconsin, and Minnesota - where I will document my adventures with film and see my family that I haven’t seen in years. I’ll lounge on my grandparent’s boat in the afternoon sunshine on the lake I adore so much and fish and laugh and sing. For the first time in years, I will be able to fully embrace the beauty of vacation, my environment, and the magical moments I’ll share with my family members. Thanks to recovery, I am now capable of appreciating the things I could not before. And because of film photography, I have acquired a more perspicacious eye for the exquisite obscurities of everyday life. 
          I want to feel the golden kisses of the sun on my skin and listen to the subtle whispers of the ocean as the breeze wraps wisps of my salty hair around my neck. I want to awake to yellow rays filtrating through my window and I want to stay up until the sky fades from velvety purple into rosy pink and hazy blue. I long for picnics with strawberries and sandwiches and consecutive sleepovers with friends. I want to make chicken Caesar salads for lunch while blasting French music. I’ll watch as many movies as I can and spend hours at the library, browsing for books to engross myself in and for characters to meet. 
          I’ll be reunited with my best friend after not being able to see her for months. We’ll watch Star Wars, go on night walks, and drink excessive amounts of Diet Coke. I’ll be a muse again. I’ll garb myself in pretty dresses, paint my lips, and we’ll go to beautiful places and take pictures. If we’re lucky, we can go to Disney Land, like we did last year, and wander around, go on rides, and get frustrated with the ridiculous crowds and overpriced food. We’ll eat Nutter Butters and frozen yogurt. We’ll sing duets along with my acoustic guitar. We’ll have those languid days where we do nothing at all; but it will still be wonderful because we’d be together. We’ll finally have our treatment reunion and we’ll pretend it’s like old times, when we were all struggling to recover, and joke about our experiences, share anecdotes, and reminiscence about the past.
          I’ll finish all of my art projects I started during the school year and come up with new ones. I’ll have a dinner party and hang fairy lights in my backyard. I’ll write poetry on my typewriter and attempt to finish my book and plethora of short stories. I cannot wait to learn more about myself through my travels and new experiences. I want summer so badly that I’m willing to tolerate even the negative aspects of it: indolence, laziness, idleness, and boredom. Being around my family and certain friends too much will probably drive me insane. I’ll find solace in my writing, art, and alone time. 
          Oh summer! My elusive, seasonal lover! I have written so many love letters to you and have begged you numerous times throughout the year to visit me soon. And now, you are finally on your way to bring me warmth and happiness. Until you arrive, I shall patiently wait for you, even though everyday I yearn for your presence. 

Lyric Head

Saturday, May 7, 2011

I Am, I Am, I Am

I feel there are those of you who don't really know who I am. Or what I look like. Which I understand since I often post pictures I take of other people and not myself. So, I figured I needed to make a post just about me! Here's something I wrote that embodies some of my qualities and preferences. I feel like there is so much more to say but I will refrain since I do not want to make this post too long!

          I love my ivory skin and how wonderful red looks against it. I adore how much I wear red lipstick and my red hair. My obsession with Star Wars fills me with joy and I love indulging in Diet Coke. I think I have a sophisticated taste for music and movies and I enjoy peculiar and diverse things. I love learning and reading about everything and anything. Although sometimes I resent it, school has transformed me into a cognizant, cultivated person. My experiences and tribulations have blessed me with the gift of insight and wisdom. I love my modesty and humility. I am generous, pensive, considerate, and trust worthy. I understand I am young and, in some ways, naïve and ignorant. But I appreciate the fact that I am a student and that beyond my home lies a plethora of knowledge. 
           Libraries and thrift stores are the places I spend the most time at. Eating out and experimenting with food from other cultures is my absolute favorite. I possess an infatuation with the sea and it’s sad melancholy. Sunshine and warmth is my ideal type of weather as I only wear dresses. I’d rather wear tights or leggings than pants. 
           I love listening to other people and asking them questions. I love when people confide in me and I am nonjudgmental and patient. I wish there was a way in which people didn’t have to act fake upon first meeting. Small talk is the worst. I’d prefer a conversation about philosophy than the weather. I observe my fellow teenage peers as I do wild animals. They fascinate me for I cannot comprehend their actions or their preferences. Sometimes I hold myself on a pedestal because I’m evidentially more mature and aware than most of them. I hate it though because I believe in equality amongst people and it seems to alienate me from my peers even more. 
I want people to validate my emotions and praise my accomplishments and knowledge. I need reassurance and appreciation in order to be successful. I am compassionate and feel every aspect of my existence. Usually, I take things personally even though I try not to. I measure success with happiness and satisfaction instead of wealth and materialistic goods. The feeling I acquire from giving is better than receiving. Anything superficial and fake sickens me. Hollywood and mainstream media is something I avoid. Gossip magazines puzzle me. Why do people waste their time with such trivial and insignificant matters? I believe the obsession with celebrity’s lives, body image, and weight only fuels the negativity that already exists in America.
          I have an overactive imagination and I simply love mental stimulation. I love challenges and deciphering cryptic meanings in literature. Writing is one of my favorite past times and I especially love doing it on my typewriter. I wish I could paint. Art museums are wonderful. Art is responsible for my very being. It is the spiritual energy that I thrive on. It is my love and is embodied in everything I do and say. I wish to pursue in fashion for I believe I understand it quite well. I love and respect the artistic qualities in the draping of a dress, a tailored cut, or a certain fabric or material. But I resent the modeling industry and the negativity which exists within it. I think it’s poison.
          I despise when restaurants list the amount of calories in food. I think it disrupts the intuitive process. I have a very unique way in which I view food and body image. When people hear my opinions, they usually are confused. That happens quite often actually. I’m a very misunderstood person. People think I’m shy. But I’m not, I’m just a reserved person. I don’t usually offer my insight or opinion unless I am asked. If people would just ask me, I think they would be surprised at how candor I actually am. I see nothing as taboo or restricted. I do not believe in censorship. In fact, some of my favorite things to learn about are the “taboos” of society. 
          My favorite love story is Lolita, which is about a pedophile in love with a twelve-year-old. Typical and cliché romance novels and movies are the worst! I’m sure some of it exists, but perfection bores me. I have a dark and quirky humor. The Hangover was the worst movie I have ever seen and I hate stupid comedy movies. The expectations for a lot of things have lowered, especially in the movie industry. Since when is it appropriate to sacrifice dignity and quality for materialistic wealth? Movies nowadays are redundant or identical copies of each other. I rarely go to the cinema just because I find it pointless to waste my money on mediocre junk. Ever since I got Netflix, I frequently watch classic movies, silent films, or foreign movies. I absolutely adore French cinema. 
English and history are my favorite subjects in school. I wish there was a way in which I could spend hours in just those classes and neglect other subjects such as math (which I harbor animosity towards) and science (which I don’t mind but I’d rather not do). When my teacher assigns a book to read, poetry to analyze, or vocabulary to memorize, I usually have no complaint. Literature and poetry fascinates me. I love the feeling of losing oneself in a book or identifying with an idea or motif in a novel. While at the moment AP world history is killing me (AP exam approaching), I just love it! 
          Strange things fascinate me. I simply love reading about serial killers, death, pedophilia, and other peculiar subjects. One of my many loves include photography. I especially adore black and white vintage photographs! And old Hollywood stars! One of my goals is to be as classy as they are. Audrey Hepburn and Vivien Leigh are amongst my favorite old actresses. With all this redundant, mediocre acting and media, I have been resorting to watching the classics. There’s something so magical about music from the 50s or a movie from 20s and 30s. Unfortunately, my preferences renders me incapable of discussing them with people my age! I find conversations with adults more fulfilling. This doesn’t bother me that much though. I rather enjoy my precious and sophisticated taste. 

Photo credit to my beautiful friends, Kalaija and Nikki.