So Says I

2010-03-12T18:45:00.001-05:00

Dear Blarg Followers:

I don't know how often I'll be posting here anymore.

If you'd like to read my ramblings or be supportive (++++!!!), please follow my new blog centered around my photography, creative process, behind-the-scenes action, and industry miscellaneous.

http://lexishapirophoto.blogspot.com

Hugs and Kisses.

Somebody's getting better...!

2009-11-12T12:57:00.003-05:00

Baby steps towards where I want to be.

This is my Shakira inspired She Wolf shoot.

The airbrushing and compositing took me 7+ hours,

not including the 4+ hours of shoot time.

It was SO, SO worth every second.

Welcome to my portfolio.

2009-09-09T19:43:00.004-04:00

The new album leak

in combination with other factors

(stress from finals, etc.)

have lead this week's playlist to be as follows:

Thanks for keeping me sane, guys.

Keep on doing what you're doing.

2009-09-02T10:27:00.002-04:00

I listen to this album incessantly in the Fall/Winter,

and so should you.

Best accompanied by a cup of hot tea

and a few candles burning in the background.

Bring it on, Autumn.

Oh, how I've missed you so!

2009-08-27T15:10:00.003-04:00

Photography has entirely consumed me.

I am living, eating, breathing it.

I was told that when I hit this point, I would produce good work.

I have seen vast improvements in the quality of my photographs since I made the conscious decision to lower my defenses to its advances.

I am going to continue learning, progressing, growing,

as I still have so very much of that to do.

Here is some of my recent work:

What's the answer to 99 out of 100 questions?

2009-06-01T20:44:00.003-04:00

I'm not one for admitting vulnerability, especially in the public sphere... but, here goes nothin'.

I'm scared. Actually, "scared" really doesn't do this state of mind justice. I don't know if there really is a word in existence to suit this. For months, I've been exhausted, anxious, petrified, and listless, all rolled into one fun little package. There is this big, ominous cloud floating over my head, and I'm just staring at it... knowing that quite soon it'll burst and pour down on me.

Money. That's what this all boils down to. Why is it EVERYTHING? As altruistic as one may be, as much as one says it's not of importance... it IS... there's absolutely no denying that fact.

Let's take a look at my position, here.
TRUTH: I've spent the past four years of my life working only a few days a week and filling in the gaps with funding from my student loans, spending a great deal of my time focusing on school. I live at home with my parents, not paying rent or utilities. They pay my car insurance bill. They pay my phone bill. I'm on my father's health insurance plan, which he pays. If I'm going to keep my grades up and succeed scholastically, this is how things have to be. I feel utterly worthless.

What am I going to do two years (or less) from now when the storm comes? How can I possibly survive? How can I even hope to make enough money when it's time to pay for all of these things PLUS a massive student loan payment? So, here I am, just staring at all of this looming over me... terrified. I find no comfort in cliches that I'll "make it because everybody does." Shenanigans. I'm calling shenanigans on that one.

I feel very stuck and frightened, as if I'm living my life balled up in a corner waiting for the fatal blow to be delivered. The world owes me nothing. No money is going to fall from the sky into my lap simply because I'm a good person or I "try my best."

Ahhhhhh....fuck.

2009-05-20T23:37:00.003-04:00

Listened to this song probably about 50 times over the course of the past week.
Also, Lapse and Gift of Paralysis have gotten ample plays.

I will forever appreciate this band and album.

This would NEVER happen in real life.

2009-05-19T22:56:00.002-04:00

Thanks, Photoshop!

Thrown together for my digital editing class.

Lapse.

2009-05-18T22:50:00.003-04:00

This is somewhat along the lines of what my thoughts resemble presently.

I hate my brain.

It hates me more, sometimes.

2009-05-04T19:58:00.003-04:00

Dear Self,

You should try putting less of the following things into your body:

- cigarettes
- calories (in general)
- cups of coffee
- alcoholic beverages
- fishies (they're animals too, ya hypocrite!)

You should try putting more of the following things into your body:

- fruits and veggies
- H20 sans sugars and flavorings
- proteins
- vitamins (forgotten on the shelf)

You should try to spend less time doing the following:

- watching bad VH1 reality TV
- worrying and/or overthinking
- procrastinating
- staying awake all night

You should try to spend more time doing the following:

- writing/photoshopping
- staying on top of tasks
- getting full, restful nights of sleep
- exercising

Just some helpful suggestions!
Love,
Lexi

2009-04-07T23:10:00.002-04:00

Puff puffing on my 13th of the day (quit!) and thoughts of you are dancing in my head restless but in a good way with permagrin on my visage and the next 48 hours cannot fly by quickly enough. I cannot put into words how inexplicably wonderous this all is to me like the freshest of starts like a rebirth of sorts bringing rushing feelings sensations so terribly caked with dust up on the highest shelf of the bookcase. Exploring previously uncharted collarbones featherlight pressing of lips onto shoulders and cheeks intertwining appendages legs grip-slip yours with each readjustment and repositioning slide back. Can I set up a home of my own in your bed (?) so that I never have to leave it complete with necessary amenities of which you are the greatest. Erase and Rewind the past and start writing a new chapter of this novel with me simultaneous rebirths open up your heart toussle my hair incessantly. Haven't lustedtrusted like this in a long time frozen closed-off heart iron curtain melting coming down crumbling to ashes to ashes we all fall down. I am falling. I am fallingfallingfalling and freed and comforted and exhilirated by your customer service voice and subsequent commentary&kisses&arms. Afraid but hopeful but terrified but ecstatic but worried but comfortable but not too comfortable but so so so comfortable.

2009-03-27T22:49:00.000-04:00

I am on the verge of something great.

Just give me a few months...

=/

2009-03-26T21:33:00.001-04:00

A couple nights ago, our favorite regular customer died.

http://www.post-gazette.com/pg/09084/958136-100.stm

He was so young... only 30.
And, he leaves behind the most adorable little girl.
My condolences go to his family.

Treasure every second of your life,
because it's so incredibly fleeting.

2009-03-22T23:33:00.003-04:00

Hi, hello.
I'm Lexi.
I'm imperfect.
And, I love myself.

Promise Ring

2009-03-21T13:11:00.002-04:00

I've wanted to write about this for a bit, but never got around to it. I'm killing time before work, so there's no time like the present, I suppose.

I have this ring. It's more special to me than any other piece of jewelry I own. Now, rings serve as cultural symbols of significance for so many reasons: promise rings, engagement rings, wedding rings. But, all of those are about a relationship one has with another person. Mine is about my relationship with myself, which makes it far more important than any of those others in my mind.

Outwardly, it doesn't look all that noteworthy... just gold with a big black oval in the middle, but my god, is it amazing. It was my grandmother's college graduation ring. I wish I could say that's the reason it's so significant, but unfortunately, my grandmother passed away when I was two, so I really didn't have that opportunity like many do to get to know her or cherish her. I only have very faded, foggy stillframes in my recollection of her.

Giving up on one's dreams is in my genetics, you see. My grandmother was a college graduate in a time when most women didn't even attend post-secondary schooling. She was vastly interested in the arts, and eventually obtained a position working for the box office of the Pittsburgh Playhouse. She was a beautiful, lovable, charming woman, and the celebrities and socialites that passed through definitely took note. She befriended some of Hollywood's most elite members, and she was invited to move to New York as the roommate of one such woman to begin her career. However, around this time, she met my grandfather, and began to feel the pressure of conventions and expectations. She abandoned her dreams to settle down and have a family, and thus, my mother was born.

My mother was vastly interested in the arts, and she had friends with friends in high places. She sung, played guitar, piano, wrote her own songs, and dabbled in comedy. She performed at open mic nights around the city. She recorded demos. After giving a comedic speech at a friend's wedding, a higher-up at a comedy television show (one that gave birth to the careers of most of the early SNL stars, like Gilda Radner) approached her, asking her if she'd be interested in submitting a demo. When she told him that she was more interested in singing, he said he could help her out in that venture as well, and he told her to record and send him a demo. However, before sending him the demo, she played it for her parents (my grandparents) who were terribly harsh and told her it was awful. And, there it was. She didn't even send it. She gave up.

Now, here I am, on the threshold of something beyond what I could have ever hoped for. Again, as in generations passed, I am attempting to break into the arts. Despite the self-doubt everyone experiences as an artist, I truly feel that if I press onward and put enough effort into it, my chances of success are high. However, in those moments of self-doubt, I consider just giving it all up, and that's when that ring comes into play. It's my reminder to not follow in the footsteps laid down before me, to not become the third generation to hold promise and throw it away. I want to make it, not just for myself, but for my mother and my grandmother... I'll make it for all three of us and pay homage to these two amazing women that came before me.

That little piece of gold reminds me that it's possible.
It's my promise ring with myself.
I promise to not give up, no matter how difficult the going gets.
I promise myself.
I promise my mother.
I promise my grandmother.
I won't let us down.

2009-03-19T15:42:00.003-04:00

You know, life is funny sometimes.

At the beginning of this week, I was incredibly stressed out and concerned with whether or not I'd be able to complete my final projects and papers on time... and now, my greatest concern is that the spacebar on this computer keeps sticking. I'm sitting here like normal, killing time until I have dinner company, perusing Swedish fashion blogs and reading Anthony Bourdain's various accounts of dining at Ferran Adria's El Bulli. (Damn spacebar is really getting quite annoying.)

And, why can I sit here like this right now? Because I was studious all quarter, because I completed my work on time instead of procrastinating, because I shot assignments instead of going out for St. Patrick's Day... and it all really did pay off in the end. Everyone around me is stressed out beyond belief, and I get to sit here, cool, calm, and collected. This feeling is worth all of my extra efforts this quarter and I'm so proud of myself. I hated every one of my classes, every single one. Each assignment felt like some monumental task to complete, being that I loathed the courses themselves. Yet, here I sit, reading about how little silk neck scarves are so very "in" (at least, I assume that's what's being said based on context clues) and preparing to eat some delicious eggplant parm at this hidden little Italian restaurant in the basement of the Law and Finance building, watching the pandemonium around me.

I haven't felt this "adult" in a while. Sometimes, I forget that I truly am an adult, as I just really crossed over that threshold, and it's easier and less intimidating to regress into adolescence and the behaviors that go along with it. (FUCK THIS SPACEBAR.) I feel more prepared for the "real world" than I ever have right now. Honestly, bring it on. You're not so scary, and I don't know why I've spent so long seeing and treating you as such. You're just a pussy cat, really. (Perhaps I just had a bit more growing up do. I'm sure I still have more of that to come.)

I'm so very content with my life as is right now. Everything is so simple, and simplicity is something I haven't been priviliged enough to experience in years. I am soaking this up. I am
"basking in the Good," to use the phrase coined by Rhianon and myself. And, the Good is being very good to little ol' me.

Back to Swedish fashion, I go!
Eggplant parm in 15!

2009-03-18T10:36:00.002-04:00

Yesterday made me feel wonderful..

Forget about how my presentation went,
even though I think it went pretty well.
During it,
I was to show some of my portfolio and discuss it.
Assembling that portfolio is what
sent me into that mini-breakdown,
episode of self-doubt, whatever you call it.
Well, after I sat down from showing it,
people kept pulling me aside
and telling me that my photographs were beautiful.
WHAT?!
REALLY?!
I hated everything up on the screen
and thought it was awful,
yet the compliments poured in
about my composition and lighting.
I was so touched.
I literally (secretly) cried a few happy tears.
Maybe I CAN do this.
Maybe I AM on the right track in some way.
It was an amazing experience that I desperately needed.
As I've said so many times,
it's so important to stay humble.
And if you do,
you get to experience moments like yesterday.

It's time to photoshop my Portraiture independent project,
and I'm now excited to do so.
Feelin' good... feelin' so very good.

2009-03-06T16:49:00.000-05:00

I am feeling this so hard today.

I am so blessed.

classic beauty...

2009-03-03T14:51:00.005-05:00

...whatever happened to it?

I can't help but sit here and ponder this. You see, I have almost two hours to kill until my beloved Rhianon is out of her painting class and can join me for dinner. Therefore, here I sit in the library, perusing blackcig as per norm, when this post catches my eye: a collection of photographs of Vivien Leigh. As I scroll through them, I'm absolutely in awe of just how purely radiant she was, a true beauty for certain. A second thought crosses my mind: what happened to this sort of beauty? It has seemingly become a rarity for a female to possess this classic, ethereal beauty and behave like a lady (as opposed to a complete whore). Look at who we consider to be beautiful and just how the standard for beauty has changed. We give propers to emaciated, overtanned little tramps who pile on the makeup and hair extensions, skip out on the clothing (i.e. underwear, while flashing vagina to camera), surgically modify their bodies, and are known for their rampant atrocious behavior. This isn't beautiful. This is pathetic. If a team of highly-paid experts is required to make you "beautiful," SURPRISE, you're not really beautiful.

Also, I hold firm the belief that true beauty is more than just appearance. True beauty stems from character, and genuine, classically beautiful women just radiate with this certain aura. It oozes from their pores, and wordlessly, we know. We just know.

So when did this mass-confusion begin? When did beautiful and slutty/fake become synonymous? And, how do we undo it? I believe a good start would be executing all of the women on Rock of Love Bus by firing squad.

Then...

... and, now.

Really?! Are we serious?

No, I don't believe in the wasting of time. But, I don't believe that I'm wasting mine.

2009-03-02T18:44:00.002-05:00

Been having a strong case of the blah's,
which is leading me to not/not want to leave my house.
I also haven't felt all that spectacular all week.
Various aches and pains with an unknown cause.
A headache that just would not quit for 4 days straight.
Now, I'm a bit lightheaded,
probably due to the fact that I haven't eaten much
courtesy of feeling shitty.

Staying in tonight,
splitting a bottle of White Zinfandel with my mother,
and playing a heated game of Trivial Pursuit.
And, I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Going out" every night is vastly overrated.
I don't need to socialize ZOMGZ every day
to feel secure in my friendships.
I'm past that phase for certain.
At this point in my life, I'd much rather just fucking relax.
I've been running around like mad for a few years now.
I felt the need to jam some social event
into every bit of free time I had,
and I'm just burned out on all of it.
It's due time to take a major break.
This is why you have not seen me in a few months, my friends.
So, if you'd like to come over and play Scrabble,
or watch a good movie,
or cook dinner with me,
or sip wine and listen to vinyl,
or have discussions,
you're more than welcome.
Otherwise, occasions of exiting my homestead,
beyond school and working,
have been and will continue to be much more seldom than prior.

2009-03-01T10:28:00.001-05:00

"And you better start swimmin', or you'll sink like a stone,

for the times, they are a-changing."

2009-02-24T23:51:00.004-05:00

I can has new glasses.

I can has hot tea.

I can has Angus & Julia Stone.

I can has my furry children.

I can has over 100% in two classes,

and I can has high A's in the other two.

(NERD.)

I can has wonderful, loving friends.

I can has Anthony Bourdain's book, "The Nasty Bits."

I can has Nag Champa.

I can has a relaxing, beautiful night in.

I can has lots of blessings.

2009-02-17T02:13:00.005-05:00

So, I have to take four self-portraits

by Wednesday night for my Portraiture class.

I do not like this.

There is a distinct difference

between taking quirky little myspace photogs

and taking artistic, professional-quality photogs of yourself.

Add into the mix

that I do not own a cable release cord or a remote.

All of these photos must be done by pushing the button

and running into place,

which makes focusing challenging.

I enjoy being in front of the camera

when my friends and peers need a model,

but certainly not for myself.

However, I shot one of them today,

and I'm pretty proud of the result.

I call it:

"Have faith in the Blue Lady."

(This site murders it.

Click it to see the actual photog.)

One down, three to go.

2009-02-04T19:27:00.001-05:00

If I don't get this out, it will eat me up.
Maybe typing this out will be therapeutic.
So, in case you are in the majority and are uninformed as to this topic,
allow me to tell you what having clinical depression is like.

Hell.
I think the easiest explanation will be through metaphor.

Take your worst life experience and repeat it every single day.
Not literally or physically, of course.
Repeat it in your thoughts as if it were videotaped and played back daily.
Now, take every lesser, but still unfortunate experience and add that to the tape.
Make sure you also splice in some frames for every failure,
every hurtful word, every lost love and lost friend,
every insecurity, every instance of self-doubt, every time you've cried.
Play that tape, on incessant loop, twenty four hours a day.
Now, (and here is the fun part!) try and act as if the tape is not playing.
It is in the room and you can certainly hear it, but turn a blind eye,
immunize yourself to the tape.
Condition yourself to ignore the tape, even to deny its existence.
You're doing a pretty good job with this. "What tape?" you think.
But then, there is the slightest noise from across the room,
and startled, your eyes snap to the direction it came from.
Unfortunately, it came from the same vicinity of the room
as the television looping this torture is located in.
And there it is: you notice it again... that damned tape.
It doesn't take much, you see... just the slightest, even often unrelated occurence.
And suddenly, your eyes focus on the video,
and you have to start from scratch the process of tearing yourself away and forgetting its existence.
Although, each time, it becomes just a bit harder,
and all you wish for so deeply in your heart,
is for people to stop doing things that create a disturbance on that side of the room.

There are ways I try to habituate and eliminate the tape's constant background noise.
Firstly, I make jokes about the events on the tape,
as if I were viewing a comedy in which I just so happen to be the main character.
I tell the stories loudly and humorously and make all around me just laughlaughlaugh.
I always hope that my consequent laughter can eventually become veritable,
but it never really does.
While I am laughing with you on the outside, inside, I am cursing that damned video,
and hoping that your laughter might drone it out for a few moments.
Another method of coping is to reach out to others and show them the tape.
It's strange, but often I can't bring myself to show the tape to those I am closest to.
I don't want them to see its contents.
Frequently, I show the tape to those I don't know terribly well,
and I can't really be sure of why.
Perhaps I hope for a fresh film criticism that can change my view of the tape.
Perhaps it's just easier to be vulnerable with those whose opinions of me I am not as concerned with.
However, people are easily frightened by what they see on the tape,
and they are equally frightened with your preoccupation with it,
and they don't usually come around for a second viewing.
Another prominent option is to take these pills that aid in your ignorance of the tape.
It is excellent at first. The tape fades into obscurity and you continue onwards.
However, not long after you begin this regimine, you start habituating other things...
...in fact, you start habituating EVERYthing.
Not only are you immune to the tape, but you are immune to the room, the house, and the world outside.
You are immune to desire. You are immune to happiness. You are immune to feeling anything at all.
What a marvelous cure!
So what is one really to do but live with this parasitic cassette?

Individuals add to the footage CONSTANTLY.
As the director of the film, you begin to become oversensitive to the world around you,
and what others might not notice as being worthy of filmed or see as a passing thing,
you see as pure cinematic gold.
Into the loop it goes!
It is not in entirity the fault of the actors, for they are unknowing most times.
They don't realize that what they saw as an outtake, a minor blooper, is bound for the big screen.
And upon seeing its inclusion, they don't understand your reasoning,
and they question your credibility as a director.

So what exactly DOES one plagued by this tape need?
I have long searched for the answer to that question.
I believe I have found it, but I question the chances of ever achieving the solution.
What is really needed is for people to come over,
sit down on the couch with you, wrap their arms around you,
and watch the tape with you, holding you all the while.
After it plays through, don't get up from the couch.
Remain there and have a discussion about the tape.
Point out the hidden aspects of positivity in the footage.
Then, remove the tape from the VCR and put in a comedy.
If ever one arrives back at their friend's house and finds them sitting there,
watching that wretched tape ever again,
don't judge them for it, don't criticize, don't turn on them, and don't walk away.
Just sit down and do the same thing again that you did last time.
You'll find, with time, that you catch your friend watching the tape less and less,
and being far more proficient at ignoring its presence.

I wish I could smash the tape, but that's impossible.
I wish I could take a sledgehammer to the television set it is playing on,
but I can't do that either.
All I can do is live as best and happily as possible,
and hope that someone is willing to come over from time to time and watch it with me.

Won't you shine, shine on? Because, you're not done...

2009-02-02T14:15:00.002-05:00

I am feeling very unmotivated and lazy.
My artistic block is perpetuating itself.
I think it's the routine I've fallen into.
Life feels like one big routine right now.
And, I'm severely bored.

I need someone or something to shake my life up a bit.
I love my friends dearly, but I believe it's time I start exploring
with some of the newer people I've met.
I feel like maybe they have some adventure or intrigue to offer.
Here it is, again.
My eternal restlessness.
My eternal need for more more more.

I also feel like I need a Penn State trip very soon.
I am missing the Happy Valley and the craziness.

I want to relearn French.
I want to find a new hobby.
I want to discover things about myself I don't yet know.
I want to travel and cover some major ground.
I want to shed old skin, lizard-like.
I mainly just want to begin growing again.

It's worth it to put up a fight...

2009-01-11T23:46:00.004-05:00

It has been a solid few months of change pour moi.
I am evolving. I am growing.
I am coming to know myself and it is beautiful.
Allow me to reintroduce myself:

I am Lexi.
I'm an old soul.
I am not an indie rock snob, but it soothes my soul.
I'm an intellectual and deeply in love with language/vocabulary.
My room will forever be perfumed by incense.
I am in the process of quitting smoking. It is a long process.
I am probably "dressed up" by your standards every day.
It is not for you. It is for me.
I have finally summoned the courage to eliminate quite a few people from my life.
I am therefore in search of some new friends,
though I still have plenty and am fully content.
I prefer things to be kept simple,
and when they become complicated, I get easily frustrated.
There is a difference between being "laid back" and being a doormat.
I have been uptight. I have been a doormat. I have been a mixture of both.
I am now laid back.
My true self is spontaneous, untamed, and ridiculous.
It may take some time or alcohol to pull that out of me.
I drink too much coffee and waste too much time.
I don't eat animals, but I am a wonderful cook,
and I would love to cook some animals for you sometime.
I am passionate about every endeavor I take on.
I have recently accepted that I can't save the world.
I am not a slut, far from naive and doe-eyed, and not willing to settle.
Bear that in mind in attempting to date me.
If I seem to be expressing interest in you, then I am.
I'm pretty straightforward with most matters.
If I seem to be upset with you, then I am.
I'm pretty straightforward with most matters.
If you befriend me, there is no need to doubt my loyalty or devotion to you.
It is there, and I will make it known.
I am a social butterfly.
I am a complete loner.
I am both of these, simultaneously.
The duality sometimes clashes and I get restless.
I get restless often. Listless.
I get urges I can't identify frequently.
I get these callings, but to what, I am unsure of.
Occasionally, I stumble upon the right answer.
Above most other qualities, I value loyalty.
I just had all of my hair cut off. Metamorphosis.
I am often hard on myself, but I love myself.
Truly loving myself is a recent development.
I think it can only come with age.
I believe it is essential to be kind and courteous,
and become very bitter when I feel mistreated.
I have big plans. I won't let anything stand in the way of them.
I still sleep with my childhood teddy bear.
I fulfill obligations and keep my word.
I have terrible troubles with insomnia.
I have made my share of mistakes in the past and have finally learned from them.
I'm a fan of physicality, hugs, and touching.
I don't understand people who aren't.
I am attracted to enigmatic people and long to solve their puzzles,
even though deep inside, I know that I never can.
I am inquisitive. I am nosy. I long to know everything.
I want to suss out every individual on the planet.

I am Lexi.
I have changed in many ways.
Let's be friends.

2008-12-26T15:37:00.002-05:00

Quality of life is all about angles, perceptions, attitudes,
all of which can be changed at will.
Think about it;
you make so many unimportant decisions every day.
Why not make the most important decision of all?:
to love your life,
genuinely love it.
Only you can chase the skeletons from your closet,
lift your rug and sweep under it,
clean up the scrapes on your knees,
pick yourself up and move on.
Everyone has a past,
but (for the time being, at least) I'm letting go of mine.
I'm falling, free-falling, face first into the future.
I am so young.
There is still so much time left to give and receive love.
I will giftwrap that love in the most elegant goldleaf paper,
place elaborate, beautiful bows upon the top,
and give it away to all I encounter.
Otherwise, existence really has no meaning or purpose.
Check under your Christmas trees;
there might still be one small parcel hidden underneath from me.

2008-12-07T17:16:00.002-05:00

No man is an island.
But, woman certainly can be.

True solitude is an art, and I, an artist at heart and by nature.
To truly close off one's heart and oneself...
to shut out every unwanted sensory perception...
to remain tight-lipped and exist in numbness...
to disappear from view...
to perfect these crafts takes years of dilligent practice,
of which I have had many.
Solitude, isolation, and vanishing are beautiful, don't you see?
How can you not see the beauty in it?
It abounds. It is plenty. It is real and raw.
Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra, when did we become one, you and I?
Was it in childhood that we were bound to exist as such?
Was it developed with the passing of time?
I have never met you,
I do not even know who you are,
yet somehow, we are one in the same.

I, the artist, shall now paint myself with my favorite medium: invisibility.
It's beautiful. It's beautiful. IT'S FUCKING BEAUTIFUL.

2008-12-03T20:13:00.003-05:00

I have the very strong longing to wrap my arms around another human being.

I desire, want, and need to be held.

Not a brief hug.

Not a seven-second embrace.

I need to be held, honest-to-god held.

Until then, I'll hold myself.

2008-10-30T01:34:00.002-04:00

Can't focus. Can't sleep. Can't focus.
That song from the past just won't leave me alone.
Plagues. A pox upon me.
Yet, I hit repeat over and over with fervor.
I prolong the agony. I will it to be.
I need this. I fucking need this.
It's not masochism, for this is not pleasurable.
I need the pain to feel alive right now,
to remind, to forget, to hold on, to let go, to let go, to let go,
LET GO.

Tonight, the bottle's just for me,
not for us or for three.
LET GO.

Culture. I have it.
It possesses me as I possess it.
Too much. Too worldly. Too soon.
LET GO.

How I've aged in just a year.
No surprise.
When these things happen, we must grow up.
Adult dealings turn one into an adult,
especially when forced upon one rapidly,
simultaneously, all at once, incessantly, powpowpow.
LET GO.

Looploop the song goes.
My head pounds.
My heart pounds.
My head hurts.
My heart hurts.
LET GO.
LET GO.
LET GO.

2008-10-11T13:48:00.003-04:00

Such options presented themselves to me in that moment!
[Perhaps tootootoo numerous. So spoiled am I.]

Some news-worthy/prison-worthy:
Obviously I did not opt for those;
I doubt they'd let me blog behind bars.
The acceleration would have felt exhilirating, though,
the revving and roaring of my blue death machine!

Some shameless/troublesome:
Which, also were not selected,
though they frantically raced in circles 'round my brain,
like lab rats in a maze.
To verbalize just one sentiment would have brought shallow satisfaction,
momentary, fleeting, and ultimately hollow.
But, quickquick my neurons silenced my loosened lips.
No ships were sunk. Though, you sunk my battleship,
& 'twould have been a fair trade.

In this split-second explosion of
contradictory thoughts & weighing of consequence,
what was chosen seems to be a trend:
LAUGHTER.
It was all that could be done in a moment of such irony and power.
Oh, the power I held.
Oh, the choices I had.
Oh, the places you'll go.
But, you'll go nowhere.
Oh, the places I'll go while you rot.
You are the living dead and I, the vibrant.
My power over you extends far past that moment;
it is life-long and infinite, as is your failure and mediocrity.
It was the best choice, after all.
LAUGHTER.
LAUGHTER.
LAUGHTER.
LAUGHTER.

2008-09-27T02:14:00.003-04:00

Under the city lights, we danced.
(twirl.swirl.dip.shimmy.repeat.)
The post-bar smell of stale alcohol perfumed.
The post-bar feeling of slight intoxication.
Oh, to be/feel intoxicating as well as intoxicated.
Ridiculed by the headlights of the passing cars,
not a care but for keeping rhythm amidst stupor.
Your 6 and my 3/4, we must have been a sight,
a sight for the sorest of eyes,
for my sore eyes.
SilverSeas&VictimoftheCrime.
'Twas a victimless crime,
embracing the feeling of being alive,
and put me in shackles if it was, after all,
for I will not forfeit easily this time.
Revival, renaissance, and renewal.
I was reborn under those streetlights,
andyouhavenoideawhatyouhavedoneforme.
The freshening of my tired spirit overpowered my tired limbs,
and I danced. I danced. I danced. I. Danced.
I did not want it to end, dear friend,
but basic physiological needs won in the end.
To answer your inquiry, yes, I say.
It was enough. It was the perfect amount.
As we danced, I felt the glimmer return to my eye,
the sly sparkle that has evaded my iris for what seems like an eternity.
The flush of youth&exhiliration returned alongside it.

I am alive. Alive, am I.
Je suis vivant!
I will shine and sparkle, diamond-like.
The Diamond has made her glorious&triumphant return.
Welcome her with open arms.
She has missed you dearly.

"And if I don't make it, know that I loved you all along" - Our Lady Peace

2008-09-16T14:15:00.002-04:00

Angels, all of you.
This, I believe in earnest.
When I set foot in the room, I see your smiles and kind eyes,
but am overwhelmed by the air from the beating of your wings.
The breeze is refreshing, something I have yet to experience,
and something I never thought would be experienced during my earthly time.
But, angels do walk amongst us, and I have recently encountered several.
Came into my life with the most perfect of timing, you have,
at my time of deepest despair, need, want, and desire.
I thirsted for something real, something pure, something beautiful,
and my prayers were answered in you.
Your kindness, acceptance, and warmth are serving as my salvation,
helping hands along this long, hard road out of this hell.
So open are your arms, while most hold themselves and themselves alone
with a vice-like grip.

This is my gratitude in the best way I can express it.
I live tight-mouthed and incapable of formulating the words,
unable to utter it,
but the words flow freely,
pouring from my fingertips like water from a broken dam,
pent up and wanting so badly to be made manifest.

I humbly thank you, and hope that this is merely the beginning.

Letters...

2008-08-25T00:33:00.004-04:00

Tonight, Phoenix floats in and out, audible, then inaudible.
The thoughts are consuming and have been so for weeks, now.
They are louder than the lungs of these Frenchmen.
Though, they can't help but cease momentarily
in concurrence with and reverence to
the notion of alphabetical existence.
Alphabetical.
Alphabet.
Letters.
Here are some of those.

To the one who judged me:
You took your position as such from the day of our meeting. This defendant continuously pled her case for the duration, hoping to sway you for a "not guilty" ruling. But, your verdicts no longer determine my sentencing and weigh heavy upon my shoulders and thoughts. I will never again have to sit through another lecture as my eardrums suffer yet another inundation of self-righteousness and pride. Perhaps it is time you turn the gavel upon yourself? I feel as though your eyes only saw me as another in need of your pearls of wisdom, but I never was and never did. Diatribe after diatribe, my tongue began to atrophy from lack of usage, and when it was, I spoke in parables and of casting stones (but, to no avail). You were born with cotton-stuffed ears. I am content to be freed from the chains of your constant disapproval and watchful eyes.

To the fledgling:
Don't you dare look back. If you do, I avow you face the same fate as the wife of Lot and will be instantaneously turned to a pillar of salt. These hearts are hard and gazes cold; it is due time you experienced the warmth. Run from here with the speed of an Olympic athlete. Dance on the sands. Fly.

To the one who loves me:
I will always love you, too. You are the love of my life.

To the spiral:
Reverse your direction. Head north, fair one. If you continue downwards, though, I shan't leave your side. I have become numbed to being sucked into the vortex created long ago, and have gone from spiral to plane throughout the years. Constancy and stability and ears and shoulders and arms are all I can offer, and are rare, generous gifts. It is scarce that one human being will genuinely offer that to another, as most prefer to keep their ears and shoulders and arms selfishly to themselves. But, mine have been donated to your cause. If only you could see with my eyes and see the light and the beauty radiating from your skin and your soul, shooting off in all directions, refracting. To you, I avow: I am good, I am honest, I am true and of the purest of intent.

2008-08-18T02:20:00.002-04:00

Me,
you,
the city skyline,
Bjork,
and a bottle of Italian champagne.
Kid, we owned it all tonight.

This numbness is a new genre that I have yet to experience. I have become numb to the negative and neutral, only feeling the positive. The positive is, of course, hindered in getting through my shell, and it is riddled with nostalgia and the bittersweet, but, oh, the vibrations are marvelous as they wash over my consciousness.

Allow me to courteously declare neutrality now, no matter the matter. I would like to remain blissfully uninvolved and remove myself from reality. I am functioning on autopilot and am content that way for the time being. Take me anywhere, say what you will, do what you will to me. I am along for the ride; I am the Bonnie to your Clyde, dear friends. I avow I will not be a backseat driver. Pull my puppet strings to move my limbs; contort me into the most awkward of positions... I have not a care in the world. "It is easier this way," said the recluse.

I do not wish to have control in a world where the sacred spots of my youth are destroyed, paved over, built upon in the steady march of progress. Was this monstrosity you are constructing worth it? [Though we do not speak, I longed to phone you tonight to tell you of the destruction of our hideaway. The best and worst of times were truly shared upon that soil.] Soil. There is no longer soil anywhere... just concrete, metals, eyesores. [Don't worry, officer, no criminal mischief was afoot; I was simply looking to recover a mere iota of the inner peace and solitude once held in this locale, but you have the situation under control, now. Carry on.]

Oh, James Hagan, where were you tonight?

2008-08-16T14:54:00.002-04:00

I do believe there is some conspiracy against me. Everyone in the world is in on it but me, in a very Truman Show-esque way. I am not allowed to be happy. I am only given brief tastes of happiness as a teaser, what I could have if I weren't me.

The world holds so much beauty, but I go through much of my life with such jaded, cataracted eyes and difficulty in seeing it. Lies, betrayals, absence, sorrow, pain... it all turns to this calloused cataract, building and building, coming closer to permanence.

I don't know how I keep on going with all the knives in my back and pins in my voodoo doll, but I do, somehow. Maybe it's strength. Maybe it's my going within myself at all times. Maybe it's that I never really let people all the way in. Maybe it's the numbed state I exist in most of the time.

I should stop allowing myself to be pulled out of that numbness.
The numbness has never let me down.
I've become quite the fan of feeling nothing at all.
I should be a more loyal fan. Nobody likes fairweather fans.

2008-08-09T02:36:00.000-04:00

And then, enter: the tiger...

2008-07-30T16:58:00.000-04:00

I choose the lion.
I will always choose the lion.

What Lexi is Looking For in a Mate

2008-07-14T02:53:00.004-04:00

Of late, what I am seeking has apparently been vastly misinterpreted.
I have high standards for myself.
I don't enjoy dating around for the hell of it.
It gets extremely old and redundant quite quickly.
So, as to preemptively avoid any further confusion,
I now present to you: What I Am Looking For.

The Non-Negotiables:

1) Intelligence.
You don't need a degree in rocket science, but you must be able to keep up with me to at least some extent. I dig intelligent conversation and witty banter. I don't enjoy defining words post-usage. No pseudo-smarts either... pretty transparent when that's occurring. As I said, I don't require genius IQ... but please, for the love of god, pick up a book every now and then or teach me something new.

2) Attractiveness.
Do not misconstrue this, either. I'm not expecting someone modelesque. I need to be able to stomach looking at you is all I'm saying. I fall in "like" due to looks, but in love due to personality.

3) Passion.
I do not have any concern with what it is that you may be passionate about [some exclusions apply], but I beg of you... have a passion for SOMETHING...anything. Maybe you know more about something than anyone else, or perhaps you have a penchant for collecting something, or you play an instrument, or a special skill. Interests beyond "Well...yeah...I like to hang out with my friends and stuff" are a must.

4) Self-sufficience.
I.E. Can you take care of yourself? Are you a big boy? Do you have a job [not to pay for me, but to financially care for yourself]? Are you of strong, stable mind? I like being the woman in the relationship, so do you have some hidden supply of estrogen lurking somewhere in there? I'm fond of maturity and strength [not physical, emotional]. Sound like you?

5) Kindness.
I can't stand mean-spirited people and people with hollow hearts. "Shit-talking" bores me to tears and turns me off from people. I detest gossip, pettiness, and cruelty. I hate being mistreated. I don't need spoiled. There is a vast difference between being spoiled and having my rights as a fellow human being and my entitlement to feelings acknowledged and respected. [A.K.A. Don't treat me like shit.]

6) Loyalty.
You have one girl. She is me. Your heart is mine. Your body is mine. And likewise, these are applicable for you in regards to me. Three's a crowd. Four's a crowd. Five's a crowd. I don't share.

Major Bonus Points Awarded For:

1) Humor
2) Artisticness
3) A passion for music
4) Honesty
5) Openness
6) Ambition

Bonus Points Awarded For:

1) Willingness to trust
2) Liberal views/beliefs
3) Being a social creature
[I tire of wallflowers. Being shy is alright, but only to a certain point. Don't hold me back.]
4) Acceptance
5) Shared interests
6) Ability to be child-like
7) Realism
8) Straightforwardness

I am also quite fond of weirdness, quirkiness, the willingness to make a complete ass of yourself in public, the ability to shun the mainstream/popular opinion, and the complete disregard for what is the "cool thing to do." I detest overly-competitive males and that uber-masculinity that a great deal of men seem to find ever-so-necessary.

If you think that the ideal male that I have just finished describing and you, yourself, are one and the same, then feel free to contact me. I am searching for you...desperately.
Otherwise, pleeeeeease stop wasting my time.

2008-07-10T05:28:00.002-04:00

are you my lady?
are you my lady?
are you my lady?
are you my lady?
are you my lady?
are you my lady?
I stay optimistic.
I stay positive.
I keep my chin up and eyes skyward and head immersed in clouds.
I keep a blue flag hanging out my backside,
but only on the left side.
Yeah, that's the Crip side.

Ah Mew, I cannot sing your glories enough.
Ambience and that vanilla scent of last Spring and the same 3 mix CD's.
I am taken back, transcend time in fact, and am right back in that moment.
Strange what moments you recall with fondness...
They are always the small, seemingly insignificant ones that pass by without a second thought, but oh god, I miss that smell and that drive and that vinyl and that sun that just could not be kept at bay behind the mountains.
I miss the feeling of tranquility and the company and my, oh my, how things change.
Nostalgia is a blessing and a real bitch, for a moment cannot be bottled for consumption at a later date when you wish for just one more small taste of it. They say your tastebuds do not taste in full after 3 bites, and it has proven to be true, for I'd love for just one more, to relish the flavor in full anew.

Never thought I'd yearn for what was once a bore, a chore, for more.
So simple. So fleeting. So real.
Oh, to feel real and actual, to sincerely feel the blood coursing through your veins.

CARPE FUCKING DIEM.
I will one day yearn for today.

2008-07-08T03:34:00.004-04:00

Everything I do is loud.
I listen to my music loudly.
I dress loudly.
I speak loudly.
I'm a loud-mouth.
My friends are loud.
I live loudly.
What is this life for if not to make a scene?
I will leave my loud imprint upon this planet.

I'm a character [I really am] in all of my glory.
I used to deny it. I once hated it.
And now, I embrace it.
I embrace those who embrace it.

Embrace.
I'm a touchy-feely person.
I hug frequently and with firmness.
I snuggle and cuddle and touchtouch.
I used to restrain myself. I used to hold back the urge.
But, why fight the urge to love?

It is a wonderful feeling... to love yourself,
to accept yourself, to know yourself, and so on and so forth.
It is welcomed and a breath of the freshest air.
Nowadays, I speak freely and dance no matter who is watching.
Comfort in one's own skin is crucial.
And, my skin is feeling ever-so-wonderful and fitting glove-like.

I need some excursions.
Pittsburgh is feeling rather cramped as of late.

2008-06-20T02:28:00.002-04:00

Hot nights & hotter days. Jim Noir [whom I concur with... living in the key of C sounds wonderful]. Simply floating by is fine at times. And, I am doing just that, floating atop the waters of life hoping no one rocks my humble boat. This vessel is seaworthy and I have acquired my sea legs, though they did take much getting accustomed to and breaking-in. But me&Jim[&ChuckProphetlately] are done just fine by this pontoon.

Been responding interestingly to any hostility lately. No mutuality, just pity. Pity for those with hatred in their hearts. Pity for the spiteful, vindictive, petty. That existence must be a miserable one at the core. My core explodes in vibrations of love and rock and roll, spurting song and nectar. I dance through my days, stepping in rhythm to silent songs flowing from my heart into my ears. I have photographic vision, each moment a mental polaroid for posterity. Every individual encountered is inherently good&beautiful. What life must be like otherwise, I do not want to become familiar with. I do not wish to become bedfellows with negativity.

I have ere said that happiness is a choice.
Love is [also] a choice. [So numerous the choices we humans have!]

I don't assert this in the acid-soaked, Haight-Ashbury sense.
Rather as such:
Cut free your ties to ill will.
Let go of your bitterness.
Embrace those you cherish with the tightest of grips.
Turn a blind eye to the rest
[with a Chris Crocker-esque "It's a hair-flip!"].
Seek the common ground rather than acting as a separatist.
And, love.
Just, love.

2008-06-13T01:18:00.002-04:00

oh, we Cassandra's of the world.
we need no one.
it is our greatest strength & our fatal flaw.
we are perfectly content going inside ourselves.
we are nomadic. we are emotionally nomadic. we are numb.
when we finally feel "love," we love with such fervor.
[you will have no better lover than a Cassandra.]
we find each other. we are drawn there; it is magnetic;
we can sniff it out in one another as dogs do.

you cannot get close to Cassandra's.
you cannot know us. itisnotpermissible.
you may think you can & we may tell you that you are.
but, you cannot, to (y)our dismay.

we devour people whole.
we collect we catalog we consume.
you cannot define decipher deter us.
and we. cannot. stop.
we try.
we fail.
wetrywefail.
but, oh, we try.

(we fail.)

2008-06-11T02:34:00.002-04:00

I firmly stand by the bitter truth that we are all alone in this life, in a way.
We are all existing in our own solitudes.
Sometimes our solitudes find the solitudes of others,
and they are solitary together, simultaneously; synchronized solitude.
If you are in a room full of people, you are still solitary,
the only one with access to every aspect and essence of yourself.
Rilke even once said,
"Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."

[Perhaps I'm just speaking for myself;
my walled-off, tongue-biting, facade-bearing self.
Truthfully, I can count those who I have revealed my true self to on one hand,
not even utilizing every finger upon that hand,
and have been let down in every instance and wished that I had not.
I quickly recoil and lock it back away,
until I am persuaded to dust it off again.]

I deeply cherish my solitude in a way.
It is entirely mine.
Perhaps I love it with too much intensity,
place too much pressure upon it,
because it, too, shall occasionally fail me.
On this date, every year, it fails me miserably,
and I end up experiencing a deep depression with night's onset,
with the onset of my solitude,
no matter how wonderful the day was.

Today is my birthday.

...and what is purr-fection, anyways?

2008-06-09T12:06:00.004-04:00

I have found my stasis in instability afraid that stability will disturb the equilibirium don't shake my counterpoise by slowing me down I do not wish to change the way things have come to be.

Having trouble distinguishing between what is for the best and what will destroy, and longing with much more intensity for imminent destruction. Thejuiceisworththesqueeze [Idobelieveandhope?], butjuiceislacedwithhemlock.

It is tame and kitten-like, but I am like the lion. I ravage and roar and proudly display my mane to envious onlookers that paid their $10 admission. I preen and lick my paws and stack my body accordingly. Born Free, for certain. This pace is too slow & quickening is not foreseeable; it is not in the kitten's nature. The other is surely like the lion but personifies that Bill Withers tune of old and will be the demise of self and dignity.

What do I need, then?
All I know is:
I need Hot Chip and insanity and whirlwind nights and excitement and groovy times and those pretensious indie fucks and art and noise and eternal cataclysm and Leyendecker and earth-shaking, body-rocking experiences. MEOW.

I will jade you.
I will devour you.
Run.

2008-05-31T13:49:00.003-04:00

how quaint it is to feel alive&beautiful&vibrant.

how peculiar a sensation, to breathe deeply and with anticipation of the next,
to make attempts to halt blinking, as a bat of an eyelash is a moment missed.

how marvelous a day, with the first sight being that of the sunbeams penetrating the sheerness of my curtains and creating a diffused glow upon my bedsheets.
i awake and trace their patterns with my fingertips.

i feel beauty all around enveloping me, swallowing me up;
beauty and fried rice and freshly ground coffee and mango tea and breezes and frequencies and a neo-coming-of-age and Rocky Votolato and kitsch and hope and incense and creation and such.

i haven't turned on my television in a week.
it's all just lies and alpha waves and flicker fusion and 300,000 dots of phosphorescent light.

i remember when the bugs were writhing beneath your skin,
and you howled and wailed and begged for mercy until sleep came.
but, my eyes had closed long before. i was living with them closed.
they are open now.
widewide open.

2008-05-29T03:24:00.004-04:00

I could see myself living in the ocean

with nothing new to say

I've got a grievance with devotion

no matter where I sleep

I could see myself happy in my old age

with no one around to save

and no one above my grave

Every day I spin the globe and think of life somewhere else

This is a necessary evil that I found in myself

I could see myself cursing at the ocean

with nothing new to say

I've got a grievance with commotion

no matter how loud I scream

I could see myself happy in my old age

with no one around to save

There's no one above my grave

Every day I spin the globe and think of life somewhere else

This is a necessary evil that I found in myself

The sound of school bells ringing

makes its way into my head

Even when I find a place that suits me fine

Every day I spin the globe and think of life somewhere else

This is a necessary evil that I found in myself

-Paper Rival-

2008-05-26T01:56:00.002-04:00

wind toussling&tossing my hair. Sondre on my stereo [Lerche, Lerche, hard at work-y]. perfumed smell of hundreds of various types of flowers blowing into my nostrils with ferocity. all while i speed down the highway with the setting sun performing a spectacular solar show and brushing my epidermis with a tingling warmth. this is heaven. this is perfection. this is serenity.

there's something about that solitude smile,
the one you only make in moments of inner peace&joy when alone.
it's a smile no one else can see or feel... ever.
it's solely yours until mortality.
and, it's the most pleasurable smile you ever smile.

haiku...

2008-05-22T02:07:00.001-04:00

Oh sunshine,
Where the fuck are you?
It is May

2008-05-14T01:04:00.002-04:00

When the elevator sputtered, jumped, and stuck,

my first instinct was to look around and decide

who we would consume first

in a Lord of the Flies fashion.

None of them looked appetizing.

I hoped I was too thin to be worth the kill.

Thank goodness it budged a few minutes later.

'Twould have been a difficult decision.

2008-05-12T00:32:00.003-04:00

I need to stop getting almost everything I want.
It will ruin me for certain.
La vie has been ever so kind to me of late.
But la vie is a fickle friend, untrustworthy, wishywashy.
Must not fly too close to le sol & melt these wings of mine,
especially when it took so long to fashion them.

Carpe diem. Carpe noctem.
Still puff puffing, but the final page I have yet to reach.
Still sip sipping, but with less frequency and for proper reasoning.
Goodtimes with goodfolks. Have succeeded in positive-vibe-age quest.
[warm.warmer.disco.]
Am personifying tracks 12&13 of your brainchild, sir.

Still waxing philosophical at given opportunities.
Still slightly obscene.
Strange how the mind controls all.
Shoulders-downward is merely there for execution of its will.
[This week of rain should suffice to wash away any of the prior's malcontent.]
Strange how vastly things shift&drift within one year's time.
[My continents are in completely different hemispheres than ere.]

Tonight is for painting [of boxes of this nature],
for grooving [to Subtract the Ursine],
for more introspection,
for planning of plans,
for returning to the scene of the crime, as most murderers do,
[redrum.redrum.redrum.]
for disconnecting the dots.
[Come disconnect the dots with me, poppet.]

2008-05-10T02:46:00.002-04:00

Out of tea. Out of time. Out of excuses.
[The first leaves the throat wanting.
The second leaves the body wanting.
The third leaves the ego wanting.]

The only promises that I don't keep are the ones I make to myself.
Now. Now.
Time for beginnings, or:
The smoke will keep impishly swirling,
Messes messy,
Empty pockets,
Below expectations,
And so on and so forth.
The first step is the most diffucult.
Subsequentstepsarecake.

Bad timing continues to reign supreme. Seems as if irony and bad timing are constants. And, oh, the smallness of thingsandplaces. I laughed heartily. I wasn't sure where the hilarity was or what caused the laughs to spring from within, but, oh, they sprung and boingboingboinged in the air. Another constant: the smallness of things amidst infinite largeness, or, the infallible smallness of things when largeness is required. One size does not fit all. [Growshrink before I go mad!]

Yet, am so happy.
Incomprehensible. Inexplicable. Present. Welcomed.
It really IS a choice...[to be happy, that is.]

2008-05-09T00:23:00.001-04:00

cesser!

2008-05-08T10:56:00.002-04:00

J'adore les cigarettes noir.
J'adore tout les cigarettes.
Non. Non. Non; Cesser!
Quit. Quit. Quit. Easyway.
Bonne chance de moi!

Ink forthcoming. Anxious Arms. Anxious necks&napes.
Extras becoming recurrent characters, reprising roles.
Lightscameraaction. [Don't get us cancelled.]
Success? En temps de temps.
Faltering in some areas, flying high in others.
Hard to focus on the prior when the latter brings such joy.
Chock it up to (in)experience.
I am young. I am vibrant. Watch me glow.

Oh, opposite sex, why do you plague me so?
SamenameX2.
Why must you share a name?
Names are unique identities, sense of self, and so on and so forth.
You share it, yet share no qualities (noticably as of yet).
What to do?; LSF, I suppose.

LSF, indeed.

2008-05-06T01:02:00.004-04:00

Glass-Handed Kites in my ears.
Commencing the relaxing. Commencing the breathing.
Let go. Let go. Sometimes, I just must let go.
I am not proficient in the art of letting go.
[Control freak core, my magma is. Pardon it.]

I don't have much time left to soak up this jumble of small-town-meets-big-city; breathe in deeply. Commencing the exuding of good vibes, friendlies, and such. Bask in love. Bathe in it. Scrub with it. Brush my teeth with all this fucking love. Denny's. None of them there; drink much coffee and smoke many cigs.

Seeing the positivity in hard-work-meets-lack-of-control, in Mew and menthol. Ending the seeing of self as own puppet; cut the strings fuckfuckfuck. Move at will. Walk at will. Talk at will. Strut your shit at will.
Regain control by losing it, paradoxical for sure. Certain, for sure.
Learn when to open closed things; i.e. heart&mouth&mind.
Learn when to close opened things; i.e. heart&mouth&mind.
Radio must tune all three into perfect united frequency.
Cease the cacophony in their clashing;
makes the ears ache and the pillow less soft.

I have dues to pay and storms to weather to earn my sunshine.
Must let the clouds do as they will. Can't dismiss the clouds.
They're free-spirited and dance and rainrainrain at will.
[Bring an umbrella.]

2008-05-04T20:08:00.002-04:00

I have decided to begin posting the track listings of the mixed CDs I make.
Steal them at will...

ROFL! LOLLERZ! Mix:

1) Tyrants by Black Mountain
2) You're Right by Paper Rival
3) Droppin' by Soft
4) All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem
5) Ready for the Floor by Hot Chip
6) Time to Pretend by MGMT
7) Good Day by Tally Hall
8) Ears Ring by Rainer Maria
9) Without MSG I Am Nothing by Mclusky
10) Pick Up the Boom by Utah!
11) We Do Not Fuck Around by Viva Voce
12) Disconnect the Dots by Of Montreal
13) Feels Good Being Somebody by Dios (Malos)
14) Into Your Head by Foreign Born
15) Imaginary Girl by Silver Seas
16) Now. Now. by St. Vincent
17) Atom by British Sea Power
18) Novel by Tim Williams

2008-04-09T21:43:00.003-04:00

I have always been an extremely walled-off person.

I decided to give taking them down a shot.

I regret that decision.

Summon the builders, for up they go, again.

The words of others serve as the mortar,

their actions, the bricks.

Back to being an enigma.

Back to mistrust.

Back to hermitage, physical or emotional.

I will throw myself into my work, my schoolwork, my art, books.

I will pretend that those are enough for distraction and contentment.

My face will bear a blank undiscernable expression.

[Is she sad?/tired?/contented? Who knows?]

My words will resound hollow.

Understand, this is not a choice.

This is simply the nature of the beast within.

Self-preservation at its finest.

Those who avow to change it inevitably become the cause,

so please, no attempts.

2008-01-16T04:03:00.000-05:00

"You've either got to amuse people or feed 'em or shock 'em."

- Oscar Wilde

Merry Christmas, interweb.

2007-12-25T18:03:00.000-05:00

MaverickXRose: Merry ridiculously grandiose, trite, and environmentally unfriendly secularized Christian holiday!
onthefoldout: Merry commercialized, barbarically carnivorous, materialistic, day of giving only to receive to you and yours, too!

2007-12-19T04:45:00.000-05:00

I do believe that, as is usually the case, Fiona says it best.

And what a thing, to know what could be instead
Oh, what a blessed curse; to see
It took the agenda from its place in my bed
Made a merry paramour of me
O' Sailor, why'd you do it?
What'd you do that for?
Saying there's nothing to it
And then letting it go by the boards

I never thought I would get a chance to pose the question.
But, the sailor that made a merry paramour of me has seemingly returned from asea.

O' Sailor, why'd you do it?
What'd you do that for?

Judgment.

2007-12-02T22:25:00.001-05:00

First off, there is no "E" in judgment...unless you are British, which you almost certainly are not. Please quit inserting one. It irks me.

There is nothing that irritates or angers me more than feeling as if I am being judged.
There are few things that trip that switch in me.
I am excellent at biting my tongue. I am a professional, in fact.
My skill in that has been honed and refined over years of practice.
It is quite hard to anger me; I may feel a range of emotions in the same genre as anger: bitterness, hurt, sorrow, disdain, etc, but very few things legitimately ANGER me.

I am a proponent for intellectual debate when opinions, views, beliefs, lifestyles differ.
I am perfectly content to banter back and forth, stating my viewpoints, objectively listening to yours, and perhaps allowing my views to evolve if you manage to sway me enough.
But, don't DARE pass judgment upon me.

We, as humans, are beautifully flawed, imperfect, confused creatures.
None of us know the "answers."
All of us err with regularity.
We are consistently inconsistent.
And as these flawed individuals, we all have our own methodology, our own way of living, our own moral code that we feel is correct and appros pos for ourselves.
Do not try to force your ethics or beliefs upon another, especially me, as it is an exercise in futility, and only serves as a negative reflection of you as a person.
Bend.
Listen to others.
If you still disagree, think of it as a learning experience,
a study as to how that person functions.

Do you ever have difficulty climbing into the saddle when your horse is that high?

Forfeit.

2007-11-30T01:39:00.000-05:00

I'm resuming my hermitage.
I've had enough of the outside world for quite a while.

I tried.
I honestly did.
But, it's been a terrible month.
So, I turn tail until further notice.

I've got to admit, it's getting better, a little better all the time.

2007-11-21T16:32:00.000-05:00

'Tis the time of year to be thankful.
People seem to forget about Thanksgiving anymore.
It has become a speed-bump on Christmas road,
and nothing more than an excuse to over-eat and watch football.
Every Thanksgiving, I make it a point to really think about what I'm thankful for,
and I post it in my current journal.
So, let's get started on this year's list.

What Is Lexi Thankful For?:

1) I just got off of the phone with Aaron a few moments ago. I'm so extremely thankful for so many things in regards to Aaron. I am thankful for him entering my life and remaining a very important part of it, despite the eternally vast distance between us. I am so relieved and thankful for Aaron's safe return from all of his deployments to Iraq. And, lastly, I am so thankful that he has found a wonderful girl that makes him happy after all that he has had to go through.

2) I am thankful for being blessed enough to have met Sam. I don't know what I would do without this woman. I view Sam as a guardian angel of sorts... She keeps my head on straight, tells things like they are, and has become one of the best friends I could ever hope for. Any time that I get down on myself or need to get away, I know that Sam will be at Denny's within minutes for hours of coffee, conversation, and therapy.

3) I am thankful for They Will Rock You and the fabulous Mary for giving me the opportunity of a lifetime. I am living out my dream courtesy of Mary's inviting me to become a part of the staff and patience with me [sometimes, it takes me forever to turn in interviews/photos after I take them, due to my hectic schedule and lack of free time]. I am thankful for every musician that I have met during the course of this incredible year. I am especially thankful for those who treated me with a great deal of kindness: Anberlin, Family Force 5, and matt pond PA. I am thankful for Stephen Christian's email correspondence, "Chapstique's" support, and matt pond PA's companionship. I am thankful for Dennis from Flogging Molly telling me that I had given him the best interview he had ever done. I am thankful for the gentlemen of Biffy Clyro for being so modest and flattered regarding the fact that I had been a fan for years. I am thankful for Switchfoot's invitation to their After-show gathering, despite my lack of an "After-show" pass. I am thankful, I am thankful, I am so fucking thankful.

4) I am thankful for all of the local bands that gave me the opportunity to photograph them while I was on my path to discovering what I wanted to do with my life. I look back upon those terrible photographs I took and feel so blessed for the support of those along the way. I am thankful for Monument the Ghost allowing me to take my first set of promotional photographs. I am thankful for O' Captain My Captain's use of my low-quality live shots. Yes, I am even thankful for Cloverleaf's use of my promotional photographs for so long.

5) I am thankful for my relationship with Justin. Despite all of the pain and unhappiness, it was the greatest learning experience of my life. I look back upon it as a "what-not-to-do" of sorts and a lesson in what not to stand for in a relationship. It enabled me to see and learn everything that I do NOT want in a relationship and made me a much stronger person. It gave me the security to realize that I do not NEED a significant other to be happy and granted me the ability to enjoy the pleasure of my own company. It gave me the ability to say that I will not simply settle and am fine on my own. It was an awakening to the fact that I had centered my world around one person and neglected the things and people that truly mattered.

6) I am thankful for my parents and their support in my various decisions and actions. When I was drunk at 4 in the morning last October and called my mother bawling from Penn State about how miserable I was and how much I wanted to be home at the moment, but there were no Greyhounds leaving any time soon, she hopped right in the car and made the 3-hour drive to come get me. I am thankful in their support of my decision to abandon traditional school for the Art Institute and pursue a career with zero job security. I am thankful for their putting up with my residence-hopping and always welcoming me back to their house when needed. I am thankful for their love and for their advice. I am thankful for their always being right, but scarcely using the phrase "I told you so." There is so much about them that I could express thanks for that it would take a formal essay to do so.

7) I am thankful for the wonderful people who have become a part of my life this year through different means and circumstances. I am thankful for all of the Art Institute-ers who have become true friends. I am thankful for the residents of the South Side: Paul, Rocker Dan, Trevor, the Mission Street-ers, the Youngs Tavern regulars... all of whom, whether beknownst to them or not, helped me through a very rough patch of my life simply by way of keeping me smiling. I am thankful for the wonderful people of Hot Metal BFC for leaving me with such inner peace every time I left their presence. I am thankful for my coworkers at Macy's who I am just beginning to get to know.

8) I am thankful for the many people who have attempted to help me with my career this past year. I am thankful for Brian Goff's support. I am thankful for the La Fond gallery for using their connections in New York to try and get me settled. I am thankful for Scott Spangler's support, criticism, etc. in my photojournalistic endeavors. I am thankful for Faceless International for trying their damndest to get me included in one of their charitable missions as the trip's photographer. I am thankful for the various PR firms that continuously extend offers my way.

9) I am thankful for the people that have remained a valuable part of my life throughout the years. I am thankful for Kimber, Chris, Steph, Heather, Sarah, and anyone else from childhood that has remained a close friend. I am thankful for the people I have met in my part-time-job-hopping that have become some of the dearest friends I could hope for. I am thankful for everyone at Denny's for still treating me as if I work there. I am thankful for everyone from Panera for staying in my life, despite their status as "mutual friends" of myself and Justin, and not allowing that to get in the way. I am thankful for the people I met at Penn State that have stayed close friends of mine: Brennan, Sabina, Paulina, etc. I am especially thankful to those three for keeping me sane and staying true to me when so many simultaneously turned their backs on me. I am thankful for all the people that I met through other means that have stood the test of time: Ana Sofia, Seany, Corey, etc. And, as lame as this may sound, I'm thankful to my various "interweb" friends, mainly livejournal, who have provided unbiased input and opinions on my goings-on, some of whom I have exchanged the aforementiond with for years.

I have to go shower and get ready for tonight,
so we'll put a "to be continued" on this....

And, as a side note,
I am so very sorry for all of those affected by the death of Candice Killinger. I spent last night with some of her closest friends, and their sorrow deeply touched me, and took me back to the various times in my life when I was affected by the loss of someone dear to me. I'm certain that wherever she is, she knows how much all of you loved her [and still do].

I Concur.

2007-11-20T16:53:00.000-05:00

The nickel dropped when I was on my way beyond the Rubicon
What did I do?
And of the games that I can handle,
None are ones worth the candle
What can I do?
I'm a frightened, fickle person
Fighting, cryin', kickin', cursin'
What should I do?
Oh, after all the folderol and hauling over coals stops
What will I do?
Can't take a good day without a bad one
Don't feel just to smile until I've had one
Where did I learn?
I make a fuss about a little thing
The rhyme is losing to the riddling
Where's the turn?
I don't want a home, I'd ruin that
Home is where my habits have a habitat
Why give it a turn?
Oh, after all the folderol and hauling over coals stops
What did I learn?
I am likely to miss the main event if I stop to cry or complain again
So I will keep a deliberate pace
Let the damned breeze dry my face
Oh, mister, wait until you see what I'm gonna be
I've got a plan, a demand and it just began
And if you're right, you'll agree
Here's coming a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me
Here it comes a better version of me

- Fiona Apple

Run. Run. Run.

2007-11-07T22:23:00.000-05:00

stir-cra·zy /ˈstɜrˌkreɪzi/
Pronunciation Key - [stur-krey-zee]
–adjective Slang.

1. Restless or frantic because of confinement, routine, etc.
2. Mentally ill because of long imprisonment.
3. The way Lexi feels when she's in Pittsburgh.

My travels and temporary escapes spoil me.
I have returned from the Happy Valley to routine living.

Wake up. Make coffee. Make eggs and toast. Eat said eggs and toast. Smoke cigarette. Shower. Dress self. Drive downtown. Smoke two cigarettes during drive. Park in garage closest to the Art Institute. Walk to building. Attend class. Smoke break. Return to class. Mitchell's for late lunch [garden salad and coffee...occasionally fried mozzerella appetizer]. Attend class. Return to garage. Pay for parking. Retrieve car. Drive back to suburbs. Arrive at work [typically about 5 minutes late]. Work. Break [normally consists of Au Bon Pain coffee and 2 cigarettes]. Return to work. Close register. Drive home. Key in door. Take off coat. Make dinner. Eat aforementioned dinner. Make tea. Change clothing. Make more tea. Basement. Homework. Paint. Make more tea. Paint. Photoshop. Make more tea. [Cigarettes all throughout the previous actions post-entrance into basement.] Do laundry. Go upstairs. Get in bed. Read until overcome by sleep. Repeat.

Sadly, the slightest deviation from routine excites me...
...such as the nights Sam and I go to Denny's, drink coffee, smoke, and conversate.
[Typically on Wednesdays/Thursdays... so, that's actually pretty routine, as well.]

I go stir crazy within days of returning to the 'Burgh.
I want more adventures, unpredicatability, and craziness.
As I've said over and over again, at heart, I'm entirely too nomadic.
This city bores me.
Its soil is not foreign.
I have experienced it for far too long, and it is time to move on.
This next year or two until I get my degree and am set free is going to pass by so slowly. I will be like an animal set free from its cage... I will not be able to flee this city fast enough.

Destination: HapVal

2007-10-30T01:20:00.000-04:00

Sometimes, I just need a temporary escape from the "real world,"
and that is why God created the Happy Valley.

No blogs for a week-ish.
Blogs mean contemplation.
Contemplation means thinking.
I want no thoughts for the next week...
...just impulses, feelings, energies...
...just friends, bonding, lack of negativity...
...just booze, dancing, and ludicrousness...
...just me and the Happy Valley, back on good terms.

Though, I don't really have much to be "escaping" from on this occasion. Last visit, I had plenty that needed evaded and matters haunting and plaguing my brain.

Presently, life is being very kind to me.
To complain would reflect ingratitude.
I am finally at peace and have found peace.

I am currently in the midst of one of my necessary hermitages. When things get too crazy, I withdraw. If I feel a loss of control, sanity, or something of importance is imminent, I retreat to the sanctuary of my basement, where I spend my time creating. I photoshop, write, paint, draw, etc. etc. etc. I turn to Mr. Dylan, Mr.(s) Lennon and McCartney, Mr.(s) Floyd, and many other gurus for advice. ["How do I level this mess out, dear sirs?"] With hot tea, Chimes of Freedom, and paintbrush in hand, I somehow inevitably reach my "moment of clarity." After feeling relatively certain that I can maintain, I re-emerge from the ashes as the phoenix, and head back into the "outside world."

This visit to the HapVal will be that foray. However, I am transitioning into almost direct opposition... from reclusiveness to overwhelming insanity and vastly social situations. Hopefully I won't feel/behave awkwardly. Nobody likes a wallflower.

I do believe I want to learn how to play the guitar. I have fumbled with the instrument before, and had little to no success. I always gave up shortly after the attempts began out of frustration.
I used to write songs, but never with instrumental accompaniment, as my piano key-striking days were numbered, and I lacked the ability to play another instrument. [Unless you count the recorder, which we were forced into in the fourth grade. I could play a mean "This is My Country."] However, I should like to begin writing songs again. Never for playing in public. Personal posterity. Secretive catharsis. I can't even remember any of the ones previously written. New beginnings. I like those. Individual renaissance.

This blog has worn out its welcome.
I have gone from waxing philosophic to rambling.
Goodnight.

Happy Halloween to all. Frivolous post.

2007-10-29T00:46:00.000-04:00

I do not know if I shall be dressing up at all for this All Hallow's Eve.
If I do, it will be a costume that I have worn previously, as the holiday seems to have lost its magic a bit this year, and apathy set in when contemplating costume choice.

I decided to peruse the Interweb and see if I would suddenly become inspired in some way as to something last-minute I could throw together if need be, and I found a couple really awesome costumes that I figured I'd share....

Rubik's Cube

iPod Commercial

Borat... very nice!

Ali G... respect.

Humpty Dumpty

This person actually dressed up as a table.

Big Apple.

2007-10-26T02:52:00.000-04:00

Tonight was Trevor's going-away gathering at Young's.
I had no idea that he was leaving until this morning.
I had asked Paul if he wanted to get a six-pack and catch up tonight, when he informed me that tonight was one of Trevor's last nights in Pittsburgh before he departs for New York City on Saturday, and that I should come and say goodbye. For everyone else, it was "goodbye," but for myself, it was "see you later."

This is the perfect opportunity for me to announce to the general public my own scheduled relocation to NYC. Fear not, 'tis not nearly as soon as Trevor's. However, in a little over a year, once I am done getting my degree [FINALLY], I will be moving to New York [and reuniting with Trevor ASAP!].

Why, you ask?
For the very same reasons that Trevor, a filmmaker, is doing so.

(1) If you are an artist, especially a photographer or filmmaker, you need to be somewhere like New York City to succeed or at least have a fighting chance at success. I have had innumerable offers to cover various shows and events and to do some work for various PR firms (including Magnum PR)...but they are all located in NYC. Every new invitation in my inbox absolutely kills me to decline.
(2) Pittsburgh is an incredibly small city. I'm a big city person, and in love with New York City. I've been there several times, and on each occasion have not wanted to leave. Paul and I played a little bit of Six Degrees of Separation, and it was frightening that he knew some of the people I was speaking of. Trust me when I say that in Pittsburgh, no one is "new." Every "new person" that you meet knows someone that you know, or is a friend of a friend of a friend. Either way, you don't need six degrees to make the connection; it normally takes two to three. I can't stand it anymore. Which leads to...
(3) I would rather be a little fish in a big pond than a big fish in a little pond. And, of course, preferable over both is being a big fish in a big pond. Unless you are Sidney Crosby, your success in Pittsburgh has a very defined ceiling that you cannot extend beyond. Give me anonynimity. Give me the ability to blend in. Allow me to meet individuals who are truly new and to start anew with the cleanest of slates and thousands upon thousands of opportunities for first impressions. Then, grant me success. Grant me familiarity. Make the sky the limit.

This time cannot pass fast enough. I count the months as if they are days.
I'm going to cram as many credits as I can manage without having a nervous breakdown into each quarter to expedite the process. Of course, I will miss my family. And, I will miss my friends. The true blue will stay a very valued, though farther-away part of my life. But, this is so very worth it and what will lead to my ultimate happiness.

So, enjoy my company, Pittsburgh.
You have about a year to do so.
Ready, set, go...

Fall.

2007-10-24T13:50:00.001-04:00

Fall is finally upon us.
The air has that crispness to it, a slight bite of chill in the breeze.
The deer are playing in the roads.
[I have almost hit 3 of them with my car.
One was a buck with enormous antlers.]
The leaves are the most vibrant hues of gold, ochre, and brick red,
signifying that they are soon to plummet from the branches to the earth below.
The scent of burning leaves wafts through the air.
This scent is one of my favorite scents.
The city is damp with the fall rains,
but lacking the humidity of Summer.
Therefore, it is pleasurable and I do not mind it at all.
Long sleeves, hot tea, and my porch swing shall dominate for the next week.
Before my hibernation begins, I want to soak up the brevity of this season.
[Pittsburgh has almost no Fall.
We segue straight from Summer to Winter with possibly a week of fall inbetween.]
Contemplation.
The death of the matters of the Summer and Spring.
As the leaves tumble down, the negativity and pain of this year past follows suit,
joining them in the pile at the tree's base.
For the first time, I do believe Winter will not feel quite so cold.
This Winter will signify starting anew.
As the snows fall and blanket the ground, they will whiten my canvas,
blank, and ready for new works to be created upon it.
I am a work in progress.

But for now, the Fall is lovely.
J'adore l'automne.

Raison D'etre

2007-10-24T02:45:00.001-04:00

I posed this question via Myspace bulletin:

What is YOUR raison d'etre......your reason for waking up in the morning......what do you live for? What keeps you going through everything?

At some point in the next couple days, I'll post a blog with the answers I receive,
[anonymously, of course] and I'll give you MY raison d'etre.

This concept has been of personal intrigue for a while.
After my break-up this past Spring, I really had to sit down, re-evaluate, and reprioritize.
I began to question when and why I had allowed my reason for living to become dependent upon something to temporal and unhealthy.
Ever since I rediscovered my purpose and my true raison d'etre, I've been a happier person.
With my rejuvenated modus operandi [not in the criminal sense], I've been more focused, determined, successful, generous, and all-around pleasant.

I am hoping that hearing what others live for will be all the more inspiring and motivating.

"All in all, you're just another brick in the wall..."

2007-10-20T23:47:00.000-04:00

I wonder...

How many boundaries are truly in place?
VERSUS
How many boundaries are made manifest by our belief in their existence?

We always think that we're too much or not enough of something.
Or, as said in Zeitgeist [which is incredible and everyone should view at least once], we, as humans, are divided up in so many different ways: gender, race, religion, age, sexual preference, socioeconomic "class," style/"label," intellect, etc etc etc.
We waste so much time creating the very boundaries we are attempting to break through by way of doubt, intolerance, and conformity.

Allow me to provide just a few examples...
[Some touch close to home. Others might touch close to yours.]

1) "I'm not good enough to succeed in this."
2) "She's not intelligent enough for me to waste my time getting to know her."
3) "I'm strongly Christian and he's strongly Jewish...it'll never work."
4) "I don't have enough money to move there, even though I'd really like to."
5) "That promotion is going to go to her instead of me. She has an 'in' with our boss. I won't even bother applying to fill the opening."
6) "I'm not good-looking enough for someone like her."
7) "We're attracted to one another...but the age difference is just too large."

My rebuttals?

1) The only reason you are not succeeding is because you are truly afraid of success, not failure.
2) So, you would pass up on the company of someone who could be a very kind, loving person?
3) Why can't you teach one another, agree to disagree, and just love the other for who they are?
4) If it is what you really want...suffer for it. Be flat broke. Start from the ground up.
5) People often get what they deserve. There is no harm in trying. No race was ever won by sitting it out.
6) Not only are you placing doubt upon your physical appearance, but you're also placing so much doubt in your character and in HER character by automatically assuming she could never love someone for who they are on the inside.
7) Aaliyah once said, "Age ain't nothin' but a number." While I don't often quote hip-hop artists for their wisdom, in this case, it is appros pos. People often don't correspond to their chronological age. It should not be something of vast importance if you clique. [Exception: pedophilia.]

I live in that fairy tale of my own making, and I am quite content.
It's the principle of the 'power of positive thinking.'

"Faith is believing in things when common sense tells you not to."
FUCK common sense, say I.
"Common sense" is often a moniker that doubt disguises itself under.
It's easier to pass something off as common sense rather than exit one's comfort zone, or put oneself out there in a way that could result in rejection or hurt.

How different would your life be without self-imposed boundaries?
What would life be like if you mentally dissolved all boundaries and held the honest-to-god belief that anything is possible?

"And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing..."

2007-10-08T03:01:00.000-04:00

Today was spent at Mingo Creek with Steven.

On the drive,

there was countryside.

and horses.

and ponds with hundred of geese.

and Paul McCartney.

and not a care in the world.

Upon arrival,

there was laying in sunshine.

and splashing in creeks.

and climbing of trees.

and herb.

and taking of photographs.

and not a care in the world.

And now, tonight,

there is vanilla caramel tea.

and candles.

and Bob Dylan.

and cool breeze.

and not a care in the world.

I do believe I have found the recipe for perfection in its simplest form.

Unplug.

2007-10-07T04:03:00.000-04:00

Escapism.

Tomorrow, myself and Steven shall be turning our phones off and spending the day in Mingo Creek Park in Washington, PA:

I am dire need of sunshine. and creek water. and grass.

Photographs aplenty shall be taken.

Digital and film.

Digital shall be viewable upon return.

One whole day of no phone, no computer, no television.

Just escape.

Do that.

That's my challenge for today.

Unplug for one day.

2007-10-01T01:53:00.000-04:00

Skies like this,
with almost 360 degrees of horizon line/mountains in the background,
make you want your 2 hour-long drive to never end,
and make you feel very "at peace" with your life
and circumstances.

"As long as a man stands in his own way, everything seems to be in his way." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

2007-09-24T03:22:00.000-04:00

I do believe that one of the most fantastic feelings in the world is as a direct result of proving yourself capable of something that the masses doubted you could do.

Although I believe wholeheartedly that in the near future, I shall be living my photographic 'rock and roll fantasy' [a la Bad Company], my day job while attending art school is waitressing at a popular diner in the South Side of the city. I have been stuck working the 2-10 shift since I began there, and have attempted countless times to work the coveted weekend night shift, even on a trial basis. Every time, I have been told that I would be unable to handle it and that I'm "far too nice" to work that shift. [The diner is open 24 hours, located on a street full of nothing but bars, and on Friday and Saturday nights is packed with droves of drunk people. We even have a bouncer.] However, yesterday, there was a call-off, and they needed one of the '2-10 girls' to pull a double and work the night shift until 4 in the morning. I volunteered myself, as this was my chance to prove them wrong.

[This is all leading somewhere, I promise.]

Before the shift, some of the 'night crew' came in early, making remarks along the lines of "you're going to be miserable" or "you're going to fail." Pre-shift, I was told, "You can't be you; you can't be nice to these people, like you normally are with your tables. You have to be mean."

I ignored it all and decided that I was going to do it and I would be doing it MY way. I was as nice as ever to my tables, and surprise surprise, they were quite receptive. These people are drunk. If you get stressed out and give them the slightest hint of an attitude, of course they are going to reciprocate with twenty times the negativity. But, rather than being a buzzkill, I went with it. I was bubbly. I made my par for the course corny jokes, smiled, and laughed at theirs. I even had a table pull me aside and tell me that I was far too nice for this job and hand me a $20 tip. After the rush, the kitchen manager told me I did a great job [earlier, he had made jokes that he would 'take it easy on me.'], and some of the staff inquired if I would want to work that shift every night.

When questioned as to how much I had made, I lied, claiming somewhere in the neighborhood of $80, which is what the rest of the staff had made. However, truth be told, I made about $120 in less than five hours. The best victories are silent ones.

[I told you this was all leading somewhere...]

Don't let the doubt of others transcend into your own self-perception.
Chances are, you are worth and are capable of far more than most will give you credit for.
Only you know what you are truly capable of.

"As long as a man stands in his own way, everything seems to be in his way."
- Ralph Waldo Emerson

If others continuously avow that you cannot do something, it should become your personal mission to disprove their statements/thoughts. You are merely 'standing in your own way' if you agree and give up.

Also, do not adapt yourself to conform to what is 'necessary for success.' If you have faith that success can be achieved without altering who you are, it can be. It is all a matter of your own perceptions and beliefs intermingling with your situation. Never lower your expectations of yourself. I was told that I could not be nice, but it was not in my character to behave in that manner, and by refusing to conform to expectations, I succeeded. It is easy to blend in with masses, but much more difficult to achieve success by separating yourself from them.

Of course, after working a double shift and running around for 15 straight hours, I have spent the entirity of the day drifting in and out of sleep, and my body has needed some recuperation time today. However, it was vastly worth it, and I am left with a deep feeling of satisfaction. Even if I am not given the night shift after this, I have proven to all those who doubted that I CAN do it, and THAT is what matters most in all of this. The satisfaction was worth the effort. The 'juice was worth the squeeze.'

I am going to go back to bed.
Stay true to yourself and give 'em hell.

"What is Life Without the Pursuit of a Dream?" - Vanilla Sky

2007-08-30T01:38:00.000-04:00

Acknowledgement: I am aware that by posting the following, I risk angering/offending certain individuals. Know that this is not directed at any specific person/persons. It is meant to be a catalyst to changing one's outlook, not to critique one's lifestyle or judge one by one's choices.

Today, between classes, I decided to give my mother a call and ask her if she would like to go out to lunch. We had a rendez-vous at Mitchell's about ten minutes later. It was an overall pleasant lunch, despite about five minutes of hostile bickering [this IS still my mother and myself, after all, and that's to be expected]. I love intellectual conversation, and my mother is always a good source for that. We spoke of the following topic for a bit, and I was inspired to post about it and elaborate a bit more on here.

Survival versus living.
Are you living? Or, are you just surviving?
The two are completely separate states of being.

Living is not necessarily blissful happiness.
Living is taking risks, loving, straying from the norms.
Living is deep appreciation of the little things.
As said in Vanilla Sky, "What is life without the pursuit of a dream?"
Living is the pursuit of a dream, of YOUR dreams, of your wildest fantasies as if all were possible or attainable simply by your own determination and making.

Existence is fleeting and time so precious.
So, why do people contentedly settle for mediocrity and waste so much time being so ordinary?
Why do people "give up" so easily?
How can you hear "no" once, and then walk away and figure that it'll never work out and it's not meant to be?
How can you even bear to take "no" for an answer?

When did you let your day job become your career?
When did you give up those dreams you once had?
Didn't you once dream of being something greater than this?!
Go back to school!
Apply for your dream job!

Also, those surviving among us often feel that if something is meant to be, it's going to come to them. It will be fated and occur regardless of their actions. This also could not be farther from the truth. The fates owe you no favors. You will continue to wait until your dying day.
Be brazen. Take the risk.

The surviving often waste so much time indulging in such ordinary pleasures as well. What could you be doing instead of 'partying'/drinking/doing drugs incessantly? [I will not put on the false pretense that I NEVER drink or never 'party,' however, it's in moderation, and as of late, has been a very seldom occurrence. I felt myself slipping into the pit of survival not that long ago, and I managed to pull myself out. [Survival is tempting, as it's easy, frivolous, fun. And, living's a real bitch, sometimes.]] There are so many provisions for the wasting of time in modern society. Calculate, roughly, this equation, if you can:

Time spent on Myspace/Facebook/any mindless website

+ Time spent watching television

+ Time spent playing video games [yes, Guitar Hero most definitely counts]

+ Time spent drinking/drunk/'partying'

+ Time spent shopping [whether for clothing, CDs, etc.]

= How much time you could have spent bettering your life and yourself this week.

I'm not saying that one should never have any leisure time by any means; that's a one-way ticket to rapid loss of sanity. But, how much leisure time does one need? Could this, perhaps, be a hindrance and a contributing factor to one's failure to live versus survive?

If you are truly content simply surviving, if you wake up in the morning fulfilled and are excited for the day to begin, if you are genuinely happy with normalcy and mediocrity, then more power to you.

I, for one, could never do/be that. I choose to live.
And, it would be lovely if you would join me.

I Get Knocked Down, But I Get Up Again. - Chumbawumba

2007-08-19T01:02:00.001-04:00

If one were never knocked down, one would never learn how to get back up and dust oneself off.

Consider, for a brief moment, your life thus far...
Did every negative experience or 'black' period not make you a stronger person or teach you some valuable lesson? Why then, do we consider such a period as being such a scourge upon us, when in reality, we should be viewing it as a blessing?

And why am I currently having such a monumentously tough time practicing what I preach in regards to this?: Because I'm human. We're remarkable beings. Rather than viewing pain, suffering, sorrow, loss, and the like as a cross to carry, we view them as God striking us down, or the ever-popular "bad luck." It could not be that we have a lesson yet to learn or some skin yet to thicken. Oh no, of course not. We're cursed, unlucky, miserable, WOE IS US.

This is tough love in its most perfect form. This is, literally, the School of Hard Knocks [not the 50 Cent/Tupac one]. This is life schooling us the only way that it knows how. And, sometimes, you need tough love in order to learn. God gives us this tough love because we stubborn creatures sometimes need it in order to reach an understanding of some sort and shan't be bothered with the lesson otherwise.

I've been the eternal learner/seeker of knowledge.
This lesson is just coming harder than most.

C.U.P.S.:
[Completely Unrelated Postscript:]

Vegetarian/Vegan frozen food is delicious whether one is vegetarian/vegan or no.
I highly recommend it.
I'm neither of the two, but every time I eat one, I picture a happy little cow smiling.
To this content bovine, I return the smile and say "Not this time, buddy."
He nods in appreciation and replies, "Thank moooooo very much."

Wow. That was corny/unnecessary. It's time for me to quit while I'm ahead.

Words of Wisdom [/Stupidity]

2007-08-18T03:40:00.000-04:00

Don't allow yourself on the computer when you're sad and slightly intoxicated.
You'll post blog entries that you'll have to remove the next morning and hope that nobody actually got to read beforehand.

Cheers, Kurt.

2007-08-01T01:42:00.001-04:00

Sometimes, things fall fantastically apart, and sometimes, things fall fantastically into place.
And, sometimes, both occur simultaneously...bringing an uncomfortable sense of not knowing what to do with oneself or what to feel or where one stands.

Life can be summed up best by Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five mantra,
"...and so it goes."

And so it goes...and goes...and goes...

Tonight, make me unstoppable...

2007-07-26T01:47:00.000-04:00

Time prioritization had never been my forte.
Inevitably, procrastination gets the best of me or play is put before work. And for some reason, I remain eternally at a loss when my actions hold consequences.
I have come to the realization that the world owes me no favors. Deadlines must be met. Punctuality is not as negotiable as I may have perceived it to be.

My studies last quarter slowly slipped down my list of priorities.
And somehow, it still managed to come as a shock when my grades weren't up to par.
This quarter, I began with a renewed outlook and the same habits, as old ones die hard.
However, I refuse to let this be a repeat performance.
I will approach this quarter as the Grateful Dead, who played their songs differently each concert, refusing to fall into routine.

However, the longer I have been at the Art Institute, I have noticed a great deal of the pretentiousness I initially expected to find upon enrollment.
I've met several individuals who feel that simply a degree from the Art Institute, along with the required portfolio for graduation, is enough. They're "gifted" and therefore, opportunity will fall into their laps upon graduation.
This attitude irks me to no end.
If a person wishes to achieve something, they must work for it. The art world is competitive and vicious. It is as much about who you know as what you know. Making connections is vital. Outperforming your peers and achieving noteriety BEFORE graduation is imperative. THAT is why I work so hard outside of class on my side projects. This is my dream, and I will work as hard as need be to live it.
I'm not going to succeed because in addition to hand-rolling cigarettes, listening to the most obscure music, quoting Bukowski, being an active member of PETA, and acting elitist, I also happen to be pretty handy with a camera.

Make the most of your life.
And, if you have a dream, fight like hell for it.
Grab onto it.
Refuse to be torn from it.
Kick and scream.
And most importantly, believe in it to your dying breath.

2007-07-26T01:08:00.001-04:00

No matter what males may come and go from my life, it's a blessing to have my best friend, Kimber, who will always be there to call me to say goodnight and "I love you."

I am truly thankful to have had her in my life for the past five years and for many more to come. I want her to be the godmother to my children, whenever that may come to be.

We always seem to reach the same epiphanies and go through the same phases simultaneously. I'm very glad we've both sorted things out for ourselves, prioritized, and are living happier, more focused, purer lives, now.

I have found my soulmate.

Thank you.

Everything In Its Right Place...

2007-07-18T21:15:00.000-04:00

She tenderly hung her collage on the wall, careful to ensure that it remained uncreased. This collage consisted of photographs with her boyfriend, frozen memories. Smiles plastered across their faces in each one, I couldn't help but wonder the reality of it all. My focus shifted to their eyes, which I studied like textbooks, desperately searching for some iota of sorrow or suppressed emotion, but I found none. I envied their seemingly-genuine contentment to the point of resentment. I wanted to tear it from the wall and shout to all those in hearing range that temporaryism is real; it is love that is an illusion.

Jaded. The moment of realization came. The walls of my heart have caved in upon themselves, sealing the entrance to its cavernous depths. Though I have long since let go of him, I had yet to let go of the idea of him. While I loathe him and still remain unable to forgive him for all that he has done, I have nothing but sorrow at the loss of what he represented. I do not miss his presence in my bed, but I miss there being a warm body to press me against his while we drift off into dreams of the other. Yet, how can I expect to ever start anew if I keep the entrance to my heart sealed off in mourning?

"It is going to take leaving all of him behind. And I mean all. The more you hang on him, the more you end up hanging yourself on the rope he leaves behind."
[I hope you don't mind my quoting you. And, you couldn't be more correct.]

As I was driving this evening, I passed the location of our first kiss...the old abandoned hospital up the street. However, months ago, construction finally began upon the site. I had not had the opportunity to see it since. When I looked at the ever-so-familiar skyline tonight, it had changed vastly. There was no hospital to be found...just a pile of ash and rubble. And so the memories must become to me. I shall grab the ashes, handful by handful, and toss them into the wind, freeing them and simultaneously freeing myself from the noose constricting my breathing. Ash suffocates, and so it must be scattered to dance in the air and land where it may. Only then may I once again breathe deeply the pure air of the dawn, the cool air of the night.

"Earth to earth; ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him and give him peace."

Be gracious unto him, as his soul is heavy with sin. I beg of your mercy to be gracious unto mine, as I also feel the weight of sin upon my shoulders.

From this moment on, I shall continue without the noose upon my neck, and leave behind my executioner. Breathe, Lexi...because, now, at long last, you can.

What a Literal "Buzzkill"!

2007-07-06T02:34:00.000-04:00

After a long day at work, I joined Paul at Young's for a few beers, where, as per usual habit, we exchanged witty banter while maintaining a mild interest in what was on the bar's TV. [Well, I amend that statement. Paul paid more attention than I, as FSN was on, which I have little to no interest in.] Post-sports, the nightly news came on, during which I heard one of the most singularly disturbing stories every broadcast: a man was just sentenced to a term of between 7 and 30 years in jail for repeatedly shocking his newborn baby with a cattle-prod, beginning when the child was FOUR DAYS OLD, smashing her skull, and breaking her leg. Are you serious? Does that much evil really exist in the world? That child will spend a lifetime dealing with the pain of knowing what this monster did to her. In my humble opinion, thirty years is not long enough. I believe that chemical castration is a more apropos consequence for such behavior. In instances such as this one, regarding those who behave so atrociously as to abuse a defenseless child, I, for one, am heavily in favor of re-instating Hammurabi's Code: "If a man put out the eye of another man, his eye shall be put out. If he break another man's bone, his bone shall be broken."

A child is not a possession to toss about once you've tired of it. If one has made the conscious decision to procreate or made the conscious decision to have sex [knowing that doing so could lead, whether desired or not, to procreation], then one should have the capacity to raise a child. It's inconceivable to me that someone could pick up such a fragile being [of one's own making, nonetheless] from its crib, a mere four days after its arrival into this world, and proceed to bash its skull off of a bathroom sink .......incredible ......DISGRACEFUL.

I promise to post a more positive blog, soon.
[I must be coming off as such a pessimist. I'm truly not. Things that disappoint/anger me just seem to be what naturally comes out when I sit down to write for the night.]

Pray for baby Candice.

"Half our life is spent trying to find something to do with the time we have rushed through life trying to save." - Will Rogers

2007-07-04T13:16:00.000-04:00

It's a rarity that I get a 'restful' sleep. Ever since childhood, I've had a great deal of trouble falling asleep and staying asleep. Also, I've been plagued with 'night terrors' since a young age, and from time to time, I still wake drenched in sweat and screaming. The other night, I was once again victim to my subconscious. What I had dreamt escapes me, but it was clear that I would not be going back to sleep.

I decided to watch a documentary on the National Geographic Channel that piqued my interest on the Zo'e tribe, one of the few Amazonian tribes still in existence. One portion of this documentary really resounds in my head and forces me to ponder the American way. The Zo'e hunt the indigenous primates with spears, and this is their main source of nourishment. They crouch silently and wait until the primates come out of hiding [Crouching Zo'e, Hidden Monkey]. They spend quite a bit of time plotting, wordlessly, as to the best route of attack. However, actually accomplishing their goal and killing one of these creatures takes a long time; they sometimes hunt all day for just one meal. Yet, they have the admirable patience to do so.

In America, everything revolves around instant gratification: fast food, eight-minute abs, rush-delivery, sound bites, one-liners, instant coffee, frozen dinners, the Internet, leaked albums, "spoilers," credit cards [buy now, pay later], pay-at-the-pump [we can't even walk to the cash register], products that are faster than their competitor, win the war NOW. It's an 'atrocity' that one must wait for anything, whether it's in a five-minute line at the bank or post office or for a few brief seconds at a red light. People will even get up and walk out of a film that they have paid $8 to see if it does not instantly strike them as being of quality.

Ralph Waldo Emerson took note of this frightening tendency, even 150 years ago, when he spoke of "this shallow Americanism, with its passion for sudden success."

Whatever happened to hard work, a job well-done, earned success, home-cooked meals, saving up for something desired, libraries, reading the newspaper, reading AT ALL? If the average American were told they would have to work all day for one meal, imagine the response. They would most likely scoff, jump in their SUV, and have a Big Mac in their possession in five minutes.

I can't deny a slight hypocrisy, as I have been raised in "Generation Me" and have been surrounded with this American instant gratification for the majority of my life. I enjoy digital photography, as I can instantly see my photographs on the display and make adjustments to my camera settings. However, I adore the black and white film process and feel a deep satisfaction when a print that I have spent an hour developing and fine-tuning is finally completed. When I come home and am exhausted, the convenience of a microwavable vegetarian burrito is a comfort. I conduct the majority of my research on the Internet and my credit card is currently as good as maxed out.

One of the most important lessons I've ever learned was in Jamaica. I was [as cliche as it may be] getting my hair braided by one of the locals. I knew that the time was fast approaching that I was to meet up with some friends. I questioned the woman as to what time it was and how much longer it would take to finish the braids. She laughed, a deep belly-laugh, and said to me, "Girl, you Americans so preoccupied. You in Jamaica, darling. No worries about time, here. You relax. Forget the clock." No wonder Americans are so stressed out and unhealthy, as a whole. With such a focus placed upon time, how can one's time on this earth every truly be enjoyed?

I challenge every individual reading this to spend an entire day without looking at a clock/time-telling device even ONCE.
I challenge you to go on an aimless walk, soaking in everything around you, with no ultimate destination. I challenge you to take the five-minute walk somewhere, instead of the 30-second drive; it's good for the soul in addition to the environment. I challenge you to get lost in conversation with someone. I challenge you to spend a day [or more] volunteering with a charity, rather than completing items 6, 10, and 72 on your most recent "to-do list." I challenge you to meditate.

Our time on this earth is precious and the one thing that cannot be recovered once it is lost.
How are you spending YOURS?

And Thus Begins My Romantic Hermitage...

2007-07-02T15:27:00.000-04:00

People never cease to amaze or disappoint me.

After a month or so of singlehood, it would be an understatement to declare myself "jaded."

I have never felt so objectified in my life. It is one concept to be "sought after" and an entirely different one to be sought after purely for aesthetic and physical purposes.

I suppose I never saw this side of the male species before as when I was walking down the street, my hand was placed within the hand of another. I was the "property" of another male. The gesture marked territory. However, it has been some time since the scent of the alpha male has worn off.

Whatever happened to the act of falling in love? A pox upon ye, concept of communication. It seems as if I'm the last of a dying breed. Romanticism is antiquated; temporaryism and instant physical gratification have taken its place in the genetic code.

I have been on a few "dates," which I deem to be spectacular failures. Upon attempts at conversation beneath the comfortable surface of pop culture and "want to hear a funny story?" I was left with a one-sided conversation, receiving grunts or single-syllabic responses. On one such "date," I, God forbid, broached a somewhat-theological topic. That conversation crashed and burned, and soon led to blatant attempts on his behalf to get me to return to his apartment with him that night. I politely excused myself, thanked him for the coffee, and made my exit. [And my apologies to him if he is currently reading this. 'Tis but honesty.]

I feel as if relationships are no longer expected to have any substance to them. I need a partner who can teach me something, who I can have intellectual discussions with [or intellectual debates when our opinions differ]. I need a mate who views me as more than simply that...a mate; where are the men who seek out women of intelligence, substance, and character?

I think I'm going to abstain from a relationship for quite some time...at least until I stumble across someone who I'm positive encompasses all of the aforementioned, which, based on this past month's experiences, I'm assuming could take years. Focusing on and bettering myself has done a world of good. Therefore, I believe that any time spent 'alone' [by societal standards] can only further my growth as a person.

This is the only male I need in my life right now.

I. Me. [The First Quasi-Intellectual Blog]

2007-07-01T13:39:00.000-04:00

I am Lexi. Lexi is me. I am the sum of my accomplishments. I am a composite of my experiences. I am simply the most recently-released version of myself. I am not the walrus. The walrus was Paul.

So, what's one to do when one finds oneself in the midst of an identity crisis? Am I in the midst of an identity crisis? What are the technical parameters that define what an identity crisis is and is not? Does one really have one, solid, absolute identity that one must identify to really have a chance at self-awareness and preservation of self? Is it self-centered and egotistical to spend so much time focusing on this concept?

I am Lexi. Lexi is me. I am lost. Was I ever "found"? Did I simply live in a fantasy world for the past few years that precluded me from realizing how lost I was? How can I be lost? Here is my body...solid matter... my fingers are typing this. They're attached to my hand, my hand to my arm, my arm to my torso, and so on and so forth. Voila! I found me.

Perhaps this is a "transitional period." However, that draws me to question from what into what am I transitioning? And isn't existence really one, big transitional period? It is the human condition to be ever-changing, ever-learning, ever-absorbing like a sponge.

I am Lexi. Lexi is me. I am disillusioned. I am disillusioned with humanity. I am soured on what we as humans do to one another. I once saw beauty in abundance. I was naive. I was happily in possession of a pair of those blinders that carriage horses wear; I could view and concentrate upon what was directly in my line of vision, but oblivious as to what was on my left, right, all around. Before my face was beauty, love, happiness, a fairy tale existence; I wasn't concerned with peripheral vision. What is one to do once those blinders are suddenly yanked off? I feel as if I am a newborn, seeing the world in its entirety for the very first time.

I am Lexi. Lexi is me. [I am still not the walrus.] I am a dreamer. I am a lover. I am passionate, fiery, vibrant. I have so much love to give. The love within me bubbles over the meniscus line of my heart til it spills out onto the floor in front of me. For the past few years, there was a storage receptacle to catch all of that overflow. Without that receptacle, I now scurry around desperately seeking another, misplacing the overflow in unworthy vessels, simply to have a vessel at all. But these vessels are not mine. They come to me to receive their self-indulgent fill and want no more. My overflow serves as a temporary ego boost for these vessels, but they do not seek permanence.

I am Lexi. Lexi is me. I am in love with love. I love to love. I am never more content than when I am loving. Giving love unto another gives me self-fulfillment and makes me feel as if I have served my purpose in this world. What IS my purpose in this world? Have I already fulfilled it unbeknownst to me? Have I already affected that one life in the way that I was intended to? And if so, where do I go from here? With my divine goal accomplished, what am I to do with the rest of my time on this earth?

"If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you are not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the Creator, there is no poverty. " - Rainer Maria Rilke

Am I poet enough? Am I currently poet enough? Was I formerly poet enough? Can I ever again recover the piece of myself that was poet enough?

TRUTH:
I used to have a solid sense of what was of importance to me. I read. I read with ferocity. Literature was prey to my hungry mind and heart. Rilke was one of my personal favorites. I learned. I sought knowledge in every experience, person, location. I traveled. I saw England, Wales, New Zealand, Australia, Jamaica, etc. In each country, I was not merely an observer. I sought to make my mark while I was there. I worked with charity. I changed the native perspective of what an American is. This was the case especially in New Zealand and Australia, as I was there directly after we entered into the war with Iraq. I enabled the hatred in the hearts of the individuals I met in these peace-seeking countries to be transformed into an understanding. I have always devoted my life to intellectual pursuits.

Then, enter: the person who became the world.

This person was not for the betterment of the mind or soul, but rather the raping of the present for everything it was worth. This person stood for selfish, unfettered indulgence, with not a care for consequence or the effect it would have upon others. This person masked this side. The exposition of these attitudes was slow and gradual, and therefore slipped past my radar. A symbiotic relationship developed. Symbiosis became co-dependence. Co-dependence resulted in my sacrificing my values, beliefs, priorities, loved ones until I was a shell of my former self and a carbon copy of him.

Then, exit: the person who became the world.

Humans are temporary. We grow, die, change, and become monsters. Never allow one individual, especially your lover to become your world. That is not love. Love is growing side by side; if you feel the growth process come to a halt, your love is unhealthy. One should always be growing, learning, giving. If your lover does not enable and encourage you to do such things, it is for their own selfish reasons. By halting your growth as a person, they are able to feel better about their own growth ceasing long ago.

I will resume my growth and plodding of my own path.
I will read again. I will learn.
I will resume my work with charity.
I will allow my overflow to spill upon those deserving vessels I left dry and wanting for years: my family and friends.
And perhaps in the process, I will finally feel that sense of self that I'd been willingly robbed of.