Stopping in to post personal non-sense because stress gives me the need to vent in text as well as in person.

1) This shit in Boston is insane, but I was very happy to see the helpers. For the few shitstains it took to create such havoc, there were countless people stepping in to help those in need. Humanity rocks.

2) My medicine prevents me from getting jobs, so I am off it for the forseeable future. Currently at week 2, and my depression has increased to normal levels. America needs to get it’s shit in order so those who have need can have reasonable access to their medicines, at least.

3) I’m slowly realizing that my parents have been the number 1 barrier to my life. It’s awful, but I’m grateful that at least I’m not fighting society. If I ever end up with children, I hope I can be better.

4) There are so many friends I wish I had more time for. (see number 7) I’ve had to make time in my schedule just to simply reply to an email. One. One email. On the positive side, there are people closeby to spend time with, I just hate having to budget my time this way.

5) I’ve had writer’s block all semester. Everytime something I’ve had to write gets read in class, I just pretend I’m not embarrassed by the shitty ideas I had to use, due to lack of good ones.

6) All that said, finally moving back out was the best decision I ever made. I may be going into debt over it, but I can’t put a price on getting away from all the negativity my parents unintentionally forced into my life. I’m realizing that while family is important, being out of situations that are slowly killing you (I didn’t realize it at the time, but I now think it was) is more important. Somehow, in only seeing my family a few times a year, my relationship with them is better than it ever has been.

7) I’m ambivalent about being an introvert. I say that I’m too busy to keep up with people, but the truth is that due to introversion I need a certain minimum of alone time. If I were an extrovert, I’d have time for everyone. Part of me wishes I were an extrovert, but then I wouldn’t be the same person… so no thanks. It’s just difficult to try to explain to people that what little free time I have is spent alone, and that doing so is a requirement to even have the energy to have a conversation with them.

8) I don’t know. I am certain there is more I should be going on about, but it’s time I got back to work. So I can get to that email.

I woke up this morning and suddenly everything was shitty. I then looked at my sketch journal, remembered that right now, nothing is actually shitty. So now, the rest of my day will be spent waging a war on the depression. This is the earliest I have ever realized I was in a depressive episode.

Things do get better.

carlosbaila:

Marina Abramovic meets Ulay

“Marina Abramovic and Ulay started an intense love story in the 70s, performing art out of the van they lived in. When they felt the relationship had run its course, they decided to walk the Great Wall of China, each from one end, meeting for one last big hug in the middle and never seeing each other again. at her 2010 MoMa retrospective Marina performed ‘The Artist Is Present’ as part of the show, a minute of silence with each stranger who sat in front of her. Ulay arrived without her knowing it and this is what happened.”

“En los años 70, Marina Abramovic mantuvo una intensa historia de amor con Ulay. Pasaron 5 años viviendo en una furgoneta realizando toda clase de performances. En 1988, cuando su relación ya no daba para más, decidieron recorrer la Gran Muralla China, empezando cada uno de un lado, para encontrarse en el medio, abrazarse y no volver a verse nunca más. En 2010 el MoMa de Nueva York dedicó una retrospectiva a su obra. Dentro de la misma, Marina compartía un minuto en silencio con cada extraño que se sentaba frente a ella. Ulay llegó sin que ella lo supiera, y esto fue lo que pasó”

I will never be the same again, not after you.

nevver:

It is good to love many things

oldfilmsflicker:

Moonstruck, 1987 (dir. Norman Jewison)

Clearly I need to see this movie.

nevver:

Performance-Enhancing Drugs for Writers

collectivehistory:

“Beware of Artists” - Actual poster issued by Senator Joseph McCarthy in 1950s, at height of the red scare.

Every time I see someone who is the product of a supportive parental environment, I get a little sad about my childhood. All I can remember is being largely ignored, and having repeated moments where my interests and aspirations were called “wastes of time”. I know it’s not entirely their fault, they did have three other children that were better at asking for the attention they needed, and the belief system that kept them together over the years does teach that art is only mildly useful for getting people into church. 

And I believed them about it being useless. I gave up on drawing, and became so withdrawn that writing my feelings down somewhere felt like a risk. So I gave it all up. That may have been the biggest mistake of my life, and now I feel like I’m stuck playing catch up to all of my peers. 

At least now I put my feelings out on the internet where there is a risk that someone might see. It’s only slightly less healthy than keeping it caged inside where it can quietly fester as mental illness.

I think I might be an extrovert with social anxiety disorder. It would explain a lot, honestly.

thefinalimage:

Stardust Memories, 1980 (dir. Woody Allen)

nevver:

Boredom, F. Scott Fitzgerald