I light a cigarette and stand by my window, looking out into the night. I see a man smoking in the building across, and my friends words are on my mind. I just find it interesting to see at what particular moments people decide to smoke, as if there's some particular pattern. Is there? Is there really a puzzle behind every cigarette we choose to light?
I watched the pilot of House today since I ran out of ways to procrastinate. I know I said I was swearing that horrible thing off but bad habits die slow. And I have so many things to procrastinate from! I'm going to Munich tomorrow night for the weekend, to Oktoberfest. I'm pretty excited about it since I've never been before, and it's a great excuse to get out of the city and forget all about studying. And I've only ever been to Berlin in Germany, and what I remember most about that is how unbelievably cold it was. So I need to pack (which I haven't done) and I need to do all the work that is due in on monday (haven't done that either). But at least the dialogue in House is simply brilliant so I'd say it was worth it. I'm surprised I never watched this show before, but I felt like I'd seen enough medical dramas already.I love the fact that the main character isn't a hot hero type of guy, who rides in on his high horse to save the day with a hollywood smile. That makes the show so much better to me.
But anyway, I might attempt to get some work done now, since it's past midnight here and that's around the time I usually start getting things done. I'll end this with something from Dr. House himself: Humanity is overrated.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Running is the new eating.
My new motto! I want to look Parisian by the time my family comes to visit in two weeks, and Parisians are skinny and beautiful, so that's what I need to work towards! No time for lazy. I've never done this the healthy way before, but I am so excited to try!
Getting back in shape
OK, so it's time to get my ass onto a treadmill! Not literally, since gym's in Paris are insanely expensive, and I know myself too well to let myself waste money on a gym membership. The last two times I did that I ended up going twice, definitely worth the 1 year membership, right?
But all the french food has definitely done it's damage. When I first got here I was pleasantly surprised because I think I was actually losing weight, due to all the walking I was doing every single day. But now that I've gotten settled down, my lifestyle has become more lazy, and chinese takeaway has become a habit, and I am just moving my ass way less.
I don't have scales here yet, and I have been meaning to get some ever since I got here but a part of me has been hesitating. The dark lazy part that wants to eat and get away with it. But that's just not gonna fly anymore... I can tell by my clothes that I have put on weight, and that is an absolutely terrifying thought to me! There's nothing worse than feeling uncomfortable and overweight and hence starting to feel self-conscious again. I have lived with that feeling long enough and I'm not about to go back to it. So as of this very moment I am on a strict diet, meaning no bread, pasta, dessert, chinese, or anything that I love basically! Fruit and vegetables, and those in moderate quantities too. And jogging! I know a friend of mine jogs by the Seine sometimes so maybe I'll join her the next time, I imagine that would be a beautiful run.
But all the french food has definitely done it's damage. When I first got here I was pleasantly surprised because I think I was actually losing weight, due to all the walking I was doing every single day. But now that I've gotten settled down, my lifestyle has become more lazy, and chinese takeaway has become a habit, and I am just moving my ass way less.
I don't have scales here yet, and I have been meaning to get some ever since I got here but a part of me has been hesitating. The dark lazy part that wants to eat and get away with it. But that's just not gonna fly anymore... I can tell by my clothes that I have put on weight, and that is an absolutely terrifying thought to me! There's nothing worse than feeling uncomfortable and overweight and hence starting to feel self-conscious again. I have lived with that feeling long enough and I'm not about to go back to it. So as of this very moment I am on a strict diet, meaning no bread, pasta, dessert, chinese, or anything that I love basically! Fruit and vegetables, and those in moderate quantities too. And jogging! I know a friend of mine jogs by the Seine sometimes so maybe I'll join her the next time, I imagine that would be a beautiful run.
A positive light
I think my cynicism is being misinterpreted for sadness. I never meant to make this a diary of depressed confessions, it's just documented thoughts mostly. I read the comments I got on my previous post though and apparently the impression I've left so far is that I'm going through a 'bad time' which I really am not.
I think I may generally be a writer who can't write 'happy'. I've never enjoyed it either. When it comes to writing, happiness has no substance for me, it's all about psychoanalysis and twisted musings. But that's the thing, I may write an entry about the endless meaninglessness of the world, but then I'll get up and have the greatest day with my friends. I've learnt to draw the line. Sometimes it seems like my life and the things I write about are completely separate, but it's because I've stopped letting myself immerse into what I write. I also think maybe party I've given this misleading perception because I'm being too honest. When I created this blog I decided this would be the one place where I wouldn't hold back on saying things, regardless of social taboo or embarrassment. But talking about a former eating disorder, for example, it doesn't affect me like it used you. I look down the path, wonder how I got there, but then I look forward, and the past stays right where it has to.
There's two sides to me, the emotional romantic who believes in all things beautiful, and then there's the cynical bitch who never see's anything in a positive light.
So anyway, given that I don't want to mislead anyone no further with this 'depressed' myth, I will do what 'Shades of Grey' suggested. A list of some things I love about my life. (See, there ARE some things that I actually enjoy about it! :))
First of all, I live in the most beautiful city in the world. I remember coming here last year and wishing I could move here. I wanted this more than anything else in the world. And now I've got it!
I love my college. I may complain about it a lot because it's so much work, and so little time to actually do it, but I love it. I love what I'm studying, and the opportunities I'm getting. And as hard as it is to do it all in French, I'm glad it is. It's about time I learnt the language once and for all!
Although it may seem like writing brings me down, I love having it. It's my therapy, and I cannot imagine going through life without having that outlet. I can safely say that it's one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
I'm relatively happy with where I am in terms of looks now too. I know there's still some miles to go but I am so much more confident and at peace with myself now than I was, say, a year ago, or 2, or 3, or even 5. I like feeling good.
And I really love the people that I have in my life. I have been so lucky with the friends I've made and having such a loving family. And with S, who may be far away and not really here at all, but that doesn't change things in the slightest. I will never regret him.
So hopefully now my life no longer seems too depressing and miserable, which it really isn't, I swear! It has its perks. And now it's time to go make something useful out of this day.
I think I may generally be a writer who can't write 'happy'. I've never enjoyed it either. When it comes to writing, happiness has no substance for me, it's all about psychoanalysis and twisted musings. But that's the thing, I may write an entry about the endless meaninglessness of the world, but then I'll get up and have the greatest day with my friends. I've learnt to draw the line. Sometimes it seems like my life and the things I write about are completely separate, but it's because I've stopped letting myself immerse into what I write. I also think maybe party I've given this misleading perception because I'm being too honest. When I created this blog I decided this would be the one place where I wouldn't hold back on saying things, regardless of social taboo or embarrassment. But talking about a former eating disorder, for example, it doesn't affect me like it used you. I look down the path, wonder how I got there, but then I look forward, and the past stays right where it has to.
There's two sides to me, the emotional romantic who believes in all things beautiful, and then there's the cynical bitch who never see's anything in a positive light.
So anyway, given that I don't want to mislead anyone no further with this 'depressed' myth, I will do what 'Shades of Grey' suggested. A list of some things I love about my life. (See, there ARE some things that I actually enjoy about it! :))
 |
| The Seine |
I love my college. I may complain about it a lot because it's so much work, and so little time to actually do it, but I love it. I love what I'm studying, and the opportunities I'm getting. And as hard as it is to do it all in French, I'm glad it is. It's about time I learnt the language once and for all!
Although it may seem like writing brings me down, I love having it. It's my therapy, and I cannot imagine going through life without having that outlet. I can safely say that it's one of the best things that has ever happened to me.
I'm relatively happy with where I am in terms of looks now too. I know there's still some miles to go but I am so much more confident and at peace with myself now than I was, say, a year ago, or 2, or 3, or even 5. I like feeling good.
And I really love the people that I have in my life. I have been so lucky with the friends I've made and having such a loving family. And with S, who may be far away and not really here at all, but that doesn't change things in the slightest. I will never regret him.
So hopefully now my life no longer seems too depressing and miserable, which it really isn't, I swear! It has its perks. And now it's time to go make something useful out of this day.
Monday, September 26, 2011
A world that runs on trust.
Has it ever occurred to you that the whole world runs on trust? Everything is presupposed... we trust that there will be a tomorrow, or a next week, or even a forty years from now. We trust that we won't be hit by a car on the way to work, that there won't be an earthquake that will end our life instantaneously in the next 30 seconds, that when we walk down the stairs we won't trip and break a leg. It just occurred to me as I walked down the stairs to class today, how we are basically just putting all our trust into the world, but really, it can let us down any second now.
Swearing off procrastination
Right now I'm in a state similar to that of having a really bad hangover and swearing off alcohol for the rest of your life. If only it was as easy as that though. I don't think I have mentioned before but I have excelled at the skill of procrastination, and I think there's nothing I do best that let valuable time pass me by when I have one million things that need to be done. It started off okay. I sat down to write this essay, doing research, noting things down, and then my friend came over. She brought a bottle of wine, because this is Paris, duh, and we decided to each have a glass whilst she'd help me on my essay. But things didn't go quite as planned. I ended up drunk from one glass of wine, and couldn't even concentrate in the slightest! I think it's due to the fact that all I had all day was fruit, since I've been craving them so much for over a week now! But either way, I was drunk! I didn't get back to work until around 8pm, but so far that's basically consisted of minor panic attack in front of my computer screen and cigarette breaks. So now I find myself sat completely clueless, at 00:30, with less than 7 hours until I have to be up, and this essay not even half way done. And I'm swearing off procrastination and promising to be a lot more responsible in the future... As if.
I'm completely exhausted but the amount of work I have to do for tomorrow is unimaginable. By this point, of course, I've decided to send all the work to hell, except this essay, which is assessed and must be handed in. Why did I waste so much time?! The amount of times I must have asked this question on nights just like this one.
I guess I'll go make myself another litre of coffee now, or two.
I'm completely exhausted but the amount of work I have to do for tomorrow is unimaginable. By this point, of course, I've decided to send all the work to hell, except this essay, which is assessed and must be handed in. Why did I waste so much time?! The amount of times I must have asked this question on nights just like this one.
I guess I'll go make myself another litre of coffee now, or two.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
A beautiful sunday, and a shitload of work.
It's a beautiful day today in Paris. The sun is shining and the weather is fantastic. I went to the sunday market in the morning right by my house and bought some fruit, they had the nicest mangos! And then I found other things to distract myself with, anything to avoid writing this essay that's due in tomorrow in FRENCH.
I've been studying french for a few years now, and I'm doing it for my degree too, but ever since I moved here a little over a month ago, I feel like it's shit! Which is pretty crappy since I get graded on participation in class, something I feel like I cannot do, since I'm too self conscious about making a grammar mistake or pronouncing something terribly wrong and looking stupid. I have to get over it, I know, but that's easier said than done.
So anyway, now it's time to write my very first essay here, and I feel beyond lost and terrified to even start, hence I'm blogging.
It's time to start dieting hard core too. Kind of comes with the change of location. Paris is all about looking good, and you don't look good if you have any extra pounds, which I certainly do. But I have a bit of a messed up history with dieting. I was overweight for years, and I tried and tried to lose weight but my appetite always won over me. Until not that long ago, somewhere 6 to 9 months ago, I started developing an eating disorder. It started with fasting. It wasn't even planned, I just woke up one morning and decided to quit eating. Without any agenda I ended up on a 4 day fast, until I felt so weak I couldn't continue. But then fasting became this thing that I'd come back to pretty often. I'd attempt it, I'd fail, I'd attempt again.So my eating habits got pretty fucked up. It ended with me almost becoming bulimic. I say almost because I got out of it before it took over me. I lost a lot of weight, around 15lbs, in a really short period of time, not even a month! And then the summer saved me. I went home, and I stopped doing it. I didn't put any of the weight back on, because I was careful, I started watching what I ate, and I think anyone who has any experience with bulimia starts looking at food differently. There are foods that I can't come anywhere near since then actually, becomes even the sound of them only reminds me of their after taste after throwing them up. But I don't want to get into that really, this isn't going to be about that, at least I hope not. But regardless, I look back at me then and I was so unhappy, because food literally took over my life. It was the number 1 thing on my list. And they don't call it a disorder for nothing. Now I cannot imagine going back to that. That strength or weakness I had, or maybe desperation, to succumb to an eating disorder, it's gone. And I don't want it back because I've been so happy here. I still have a few pounds to lose, but I'm afraid to do it by unhealthy means, and I won't. It's not worth the price. I've just never been that good at healthy dieting. I hope it's never late to learn though.
Time to get cracking on this essay now, it's not going to write itself :( Time to remember all my french...
I've been studying french for a few years now, and I'm doing it for my degree too, but ever since I moved here a little over a month ago, I feel like it's shit! Which is pretty crappy since I get graded on participation in class, something I feel like I cannot do, since I'm too self conscious about making a grammar mistake or pronouncing something terribly wrong and looking stupid. I have to get over it, I know, but that's easier said than done.
So anyway, now it's time to write my very first essay here, and I feel beyond lost and terrified to even start, hence I'm blogging.
It's time to start dieting hard core too. Kind of comes with the change of location. Paris is all about looking good, and you don't look good if you have any extra pounds, which I certainly do. But I have a bit of a messed up history with dieting. I was overweight for years, and I tried and tried to lose weight but my appetite always won over me. Until not that long ago, somewhere 6 to 9 months ago, I started developing an eating disorder. It started with fasting. It wasn't even planned, I just woke up one morning and decided to quit eating. Without any agenda I ended up on a 4 day fast, until I felt so weak I couldn't continue. But then fasting became this thing that I'd come back to pretty often. I'd attempt it, I'd fail, I'd attempt again.So my eating habits got pretty fucked up. It ended with me almost becoming bulimic. I say almost because I got out of it before it took over me. I lost a lot of weight, around 15lbs, in a really short period of time, not even a month! And then the summer saved me. I went home, and I stopped doing it. I didn't put any of the weight back on, because I was careful, I started watching what I ate, and I think anyone who has any experience with bulimia starts looking at food differently. There are foods that I can't come anywhere near since then actually, becomes even the sound of them only reminds me of their after taste after throwing them up. But I don't want to get into that really, this isn't going to be about that, at least I hope not. But regardless, I look back at me then and I was so unhappy, because food literally took over my life. It was the number 1 thing on my list. And they don't call it a disorder for nothing. Now I cannot imagine going back to that. That strength or weakness I had, or maybe desperation, to succumb to an eating disorder, it's gone. And I don't want it back because I've been so happy here. I still have a few pounds to lose, but I'm afraid to do it by unhealthy means, and I won't. It's not worth the price. I've just never been that good at healthy dieting. I hope it's never late to learn though.
Time to get cracking on this essay now, it's not going to write itself :( Time to remember all my french...
Making plans
I'm always very cautious with what I wish for, because I live by the principle that you might just get it all. I think my life is pretty good really, I've had a good education, and I'm still receiving it now, I have a good family (for the most of it), and I have some pretty awesome friends. But I guess what we have is never enough. What isn't enough in my life, I'd say, is the funds to be free. My dad screwed up big time years ago and we've sort of being paying the price ever since. I want to break free, I need to fend for myself really, I don't have a back up option or a safety net to fall back on. So basically once I graduate, I'm alone. If I want money, I have to go and earn it, and no one can help me out. No matter how bad it gets. That's okay I guess, if everything's granted to you on a silver plate you'll never know how to fight for your life, right? It's just a little annoying, that's all. And I love my family, but sometimes I wish they tried harder. My dad is pretty much out of the picture by now, I was raised by my mum, and although she's wonderful and I am beyond grateful for everything she gave me, I sometimes wish they were all somewhat different. I feel guilty even thinking this but I just feel out of place at times. I think of the ordinary dinners we have, and they're always so silent. There's just nothing to say, and I feel so bored in their company most times. There's no intellectual stimulation of any kind. And I'm a bad person for writing this and having the indecency to complain.
But all I want really is freedom, and the way to acquire that in my perspective, is by having money. I want to feel completely independent, owe nothing to no one, and know that if I feel like catching a place to Barbados in the morning, I can, because I worked for it, and I secured that right for myself. So although writing is something beautiful to me, and so deeply personal, I am not oblivious to how fluctuating a life it can be if you dedicate your life to words. I'm not sure if I'm willing to take that chance. Making a career for myself is my way out, so I need to stop putting things on hold and making excuses. I need to fight for survival.
I want to finish my degree with an excellent diploma, and then I want to somehow get a masters (God knows with what money right now!) and then I want to start working, and go up the career ladder until I'm high enough that no one can reach me. That's my plan.
And now I need to get some sleep, as much as I don't want to, because as soon as I'm asleep it's sunday and sunday's are not a good day. As a general rule they're the day when I have to get all the work done that I've avoided all weekend , and tomorrow will be no exception.
But all I want really is freedom, and the way to acquire that in my perspective, is by having money. I want to feel completely independent, owe nothing to no one, and know that if I feel like catching a place to Barbados in the morning, I can, because I worked for it, and I secured that right for myself. So although writing is something beautiful to me, and so deeply personal, I am not oblivious to how fluctuating a life it can be if you dedicate your life to words. I'm not sure if I'm willing to take that chance. Making a career for myself is my way out, so I need to stop putting things on hold and making excuses. I need to fight for survival.
I want to finish my degree with an excellent diploma, and then I want to somehow get a masters (God knows with what money right now!) and then I want to start working, and go up the career ladder until I'm high enough that no one can reach me. That's my plan.
And now I need to get some sleep, as much as I don't want to, because as soon as I'm asleep it's sunday and sunday's are not a good day. As a general rule they're the day when I have to get all the work done that I've avoided all weekend , and tomorrow will be no exception.
What the hell, I'll start a blog
I couldn't sleep last as I was trying to decide whether writing is worth it. I used to love it.l I still do, but it's different now I think. Before, writing was what I lived for. It consumed me completely and I was only myself when I was typing away. My great dream was to become a published author. I was obsessed with words.
I was looking at pieces I wrote yesterday, and I realized that all that time that I was writing, I was completely depressed. And all that misery I saw kind of scared the shit out of me. Because I want to keep writing, and I want to finish this book, which I have abandoned for months now, but I don't want to be sad. I moved to Paris a month ago, and I have been so happy here so far. And the thing is, once I start writing again, I change. When I'm writing I become a quiet person, I observe but I don't really participate in life, and everything turns sad as I try and give things a significance, and often fail. I don't want to turn this into a sad experience.
So is it worth it? If writing is what you do best, but you cannot do it any other way than through depression, is it best to quit? And live a happy life dedicated to other affairs? I never had a choice before, words were oxygen for me, and that makes me question whether I am being honest with myself. I am a poetic person, and I think through metaphors, and I believe in love, and I believe that I have met the one person I am meant to love, and I believe that he is the most beautiful person that has ever lived. But at the same time, I can be cold and cruel and completely out of touch with emotions. I'm two sides of the coin, one contradicting the other. But I'm not going to try and make an effort to be creative on this blog, nor am I going to attempt using beautiful words. This blog is me thinking out loud, that's the best description I can come up with. Some days it's me complaining, others questioning, and others dreaming. Just a window into the world where one person talks out loud. And it just so happens that tonight I'm questioning, are my words really worth it?
I was looking at pieces I wrote yesterday, and I realized that all that time that I was writing, I was completely depressed. And all that misery I saw kind of scared the shit out of me. Because I want to keep writing, and I want to finish this book, which I have abandoned for months now, but I don't want to be sad. I moved to Paris a month ago, and I have been so happy here so far. And the thing is, once I start writing again, I change. When I'm writing I become a quiet person, I observe but I don't really participate in life, and everything turns sad as I try and give things a significance, and often fail. I don't want to turn this into a sad experience.
So is it worth it? If writing is what you do best, but you cannot do it any other way than through depression, is it best to quit? And live a happy life dedicated to other affairs? I never had a choice before, words were oxygen for me, and that makes me question whether I am being honest with myself. I am a poetic person, and I think through metaphors, and I believe in love, and I believe that I have met the one person I am meant to love, and I believe that he is the most beautiful person that has ever lived. But at the same time, I can be cold and cruel and completely out of touch with emotions. I'm two sides of the coin, one contradicting the other. But I'm not going to try and make an effort to be creative on this blog, nor am I going to attempt using beautiful words. This blog is me thinking out loud, that's the best description I can come up with. Some days it's me complaining, others questioning, and others dreaming. Just a window into the world where one person talks out loud. And it just so happens that tonight I'm questioning, are my words really worth it?
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