currently listening: pyramid- nightbox
revisiting music i listened to the past to, as cheesy as it sounds, rediscover who i am. this semester, i feel like i've turned into a completely different person. that's always been one of my flaws-- adapting a little too seamlessly into new environments, to the extent that sometimes i even lose sight of who i really am, who i should be, and the values i should hold on to.
i don't want to say i feel like i've become a despicable person, or that i completely reject the way my time at NYU in Shanghai has changed me. that wouldn't be true. i think i've also seen many good changes in myself. but i've also become meaner, more dramatic, and definitely more naiive.
i need to kick myself in the butt and realize-- i'm 21 years old. i'm a graduating senior. i'm not young and uninhibited anymore. unfortunately.
a little earlier in the semester, a friend i met here asked me if, because i was graduating soon, i was"looking for something serious." at the time, i said no-- not really, i can't find something serious anyway so now i'm just having fun. now, i've pretty much realized i was straight up lying/ in denial. of course i'm looking for something serious. i'm so sick and tired of being alone. but my sky-high standards and ridiculous tendency to run after everything i can't have has consistently blocked me from finding anything close to love.
i refuse to give anybody i'm not attracted to immediately a chance. and i'm starting to think maybe i should change that. i'm thinking about all the non-things i've had with people in the past, especially you, i guess, and the pretty much heartless way i rejected you right before i came to shanghai. i found you suddenly annoying and even repulsive, just because you had the nerve to tell me that you liked me. i have no idea why i reacted like that. i know as well as you did that there was something between us. that that wasn't just friendship. something seemed to be building up to happen-- but I feel like we missed taking hold of it when it was still possible. and then it kind of fizzled out, and when you finally made a move it was too late. which really sucks, because we could have had something so beautiful. and i'm so sorry for the way i treated you.
it's funny because sometimes i'm the bitch, sometimes i'm the heartbreaker, but i still think most of the time i'm the fool. most of the time i'm the loser who gets her heart trampled on all over. case in point- this semester. i think i probably should be massively embarrassed right now because pretty much everyone in the program at this point ( speculation) probably knows who I had a thing for, and if i were them i would be laughing at me hard right now, because he is pretty much one of the only people in the whole program who a girl should NOT be having feelings for.
I set myself up to be hurt and I set myself up to be a fool. there's no use clarifying to everyone now that those feelings are over, that I'm done with that, because honestly what's important is that it's over in my own mind-- not that everyone knows it, that's irrelevant. and i'm sick and tired of everyone knowing my shit and making their own speculations. honestly, in the past there was only one thing i really wanted to know, and that was what you thought about the whole shebang. i suppose in my heart there was always this pathetic little hope that maybe you thought differently of me, that maybe you saw how nice i was to you and how much i cared about you, that maybe you could see me as more than just a semi-attractive girl you hooked up with. that maybe i could make you like me. i really threw away my pride and i tried. and you don't know me-- i'm NEVER, EVER proactive.
but now, i don't want to do any of those things anymore. i'm fed up with you. i'm even fed up with the fantasy i made of you, disregarding your personality and focusing on your looks. i don't even care what you think anymore, because these days, everything has become clearer and clearer to me, and the situation is pretty much hopeless. you are not to be changed. you're selfish, inconsiderate, and you've built up a wall so thick and tall around your real emotions and around your heart that no one in hell is going to get in-- at least not now. who knows, maybe you're insecure and vulnerable and just kind of socially awkward inside. or maybe you're just as much of an ignorant asshole as the image you project.
either way, the situation that's happening right now is pretty much the worst case scenario i could ever imagine-- not only are you not out of my life, you're flaunting in my face every day the fallacy of the retarded feelings I had. you and her, in front of me-- the situation could not be more ironic. but you guys suit each other, in a way. you have things to say to each other. i honestly have nothing to say to you, nothing except-- "what's the drink you're drinking there?" because we have nothing in common. and honestly, that's probably a good thing. i still would rather not see you and her. it upsets me more than anything. but that's another story, i guess. one that i don't really want to get into.
there are only a few more weeks to the semester. i think i'm going to pull through. i'm going to miss shanghai and all the amazing people i've met here, the amazing time i had. but i'm probably not going to miss this crazy emotional roller coaster and the dramatic little bitch i've become. oh god. i wonder what's going to happen tomorrow.
11.24.2011
11.16.2011
goodbye.
I feel like I don’t deserve to be typing this, because I really barely knew you. But there are so many things I want to say. You were an extraordinary person. “Extraordinary” is the best word I can think of to describe you, because you embody everything that word implies. There was always something about you that was different from everybody else- whether it was those colorful shirts and pants you wore, that goofy grin, or the almost crazed look in your eyes that suggested the mind behind them was going a million miles a minute, dreaming up some wacky invention or other.
I remember the nights you would come down to our room and play drinking games with us—whether it would be cranium or kings or any other variation of college-kid tomfoolery. You were flirty with girls and didn’t hide it—I remember all three of us, Jane, Erin, and I, competing to flirt with you because you were the only good-looking dude in the room full of our geeky friends. We played kings and you drew the truth or dare card that we appointed during a previous “make-a-rule” round, and you had to say who you would fuck in that room, and in which position. You chose Erin, doggy style, which I would never admit at the time but kind of injured my pride. From that minute on I resolved I would catch your attention.
I remember that silly note that Ken wrote and slid threw our door, pretending to be you, because he was jealous of all the attention we gave you. It was a dumb thing, but I freaked out about it for a full two days wondering if possibly it could have been meant for me. Then, of course, we found out the truth, but that didn’t dampen my fascination for you. The next weekend, my friends came down from Princeton and I got really, really drunk pregaming with them. When they left I went up to your room and after a while we were conveniently left alone. You showed me some Russian animation videos of a bear called Cheburaska, which you adored, and a crazy screen you invented which would display in neon lights whatever message you input into it on the computer.
I remember standing next to you and smiling down at you, thinking, this guy is so brilliant, as you told me about the schools you transferred from and drew me that goofy world map of the places you went to all your life, with penned-in lines bouncing from country to country like those maps you read in en-route airplane magazines. We looked at each other and next thing I knew we were kissing, and you picked me up by my shoulders and threw me on your bed, against your wall, you climbed on top of me and I could feel the little prickly hairs on your chin and around your mouth. We did this for a while, you on top of me, sliding your hands under my shirt, and then I had to pull away and I had to stop. I climbed off your bed and smiled sheepishly and said I had to go. You didn’t push me. You said I could come back whenever I wanted. And I left.
I remember thinking after that that was one of the hottest makeouts of my life. All this was before you became famous.
Shortly after that I knew it was me who made it awkward. I felt strange when I would go up to your room for whatever reason, and you would be standing there with your shirt stained red from whatever crazy experiment you had just conducted, and you looked at me and winked at me. I looked away because I didn’t know how to conduct myself, and we never really did hook up again, but you didn’t blame me for being weird.
You even came down to my room once, after, to talk to me about privacy. I still remember how passionate you were about these causes that you knew so much about. I was blown away by your energy and your intelligence, once again, even though I was too young and naiive to fully appreciate what you stood for. I remember you saying “If we don’t fight for our privacy now, we’re going to lose our chance.” You had so many ideas. You wanted to save the world. I believed that you had the power to.
After that I told Jane about our conversation. She said, “I really don’t see what you guys see in him, I really don’t think he’s that smart.” Boy, did you prove those haters wrong. After that semester, I went to London, so I didn’t see you again, but when I heard about you next it was already in the newspapers. When I read that New York Times article, I smiled from ear to ear because I knew you were finally making a name for yourself for what you believed in. You took your dream and you actually made it happen—how many people have that kind of drive, nevermind ability, at the age of 20?
I know Diaspora was a four-person project, but there is no doubt in my mind that most of the vision behind it was yours and yours only. I know that from the conversations we had, from the look in your eye, from the conviction and passion that guided everything you did. Even when we were hooking up or before that, when I was interested in you, I was always firmly aware of how much girls were a secondary priority to you compared to the things you were passionate about. You were such a man, in that way.
I remember boasting like an idiot to all my friends: “I hooked up with someone who is now famous!” I was so proud for sticking my tongue into your mouth that one drunken night. I was so proud that I knew you—even though barely—because that article confirmed to the world how extraordinary and talented you were. I think I thought maybe some of your shine would rub off on me too. You inspired me to think that maybe I could actually be somebody. I remember how reading about you made me so happy to be at NYU- getting to know people who could actually be, somebody, who could actually change the world in the future. I felt so confident in the youth of our generation and so proud to be young that day.
And now you’re gone. It’s hard to imagine, impossible to accept. I still remember your look, your laugh, the way you talked and walked and acted. I was far from your close friend—maybe not even close enough to you to be an acquaintance, but you can be sure that you made a big impact on my life. I wish you could see that. I wish, before you made the decision to die, that you could see how many people were touched by you and inspired by you, who were cheering for you to succeed. I had been imagining the day when you would become the next Mark Zuckerberg, albeit an ethical, even more brilliant Mark Zuckerberg, and I could pat myself on the back and say, I knew that guy. We even had a little thing. But now, that day will never come. You had so much potential. You were so one of a kind. Why, why did you have to cut everything short? You could have made the world a better place. You were already in the process of doing so. 22 years old. You had the whole world in front of you, Ilya.
I know I will never understand why you did it, but even to an unassuming almost-stranger like me, you will always live in my memory—all the snippets of moments I can string together in my head of fall semester sophomore year, of which you were a definite highlight. Ilya, you were brilliant, kind, funny, one of a kind, extraordinary. And definitely one of the best kissers I have ever known.
The world is going to miss you.
I remember the nights you would come down to our room and play drinking games with us—whether it would be cranium or kings or any other variation of college-kid tomfoolery. You were flirty with girls and didn’t hide it—I remember all three of us, Jane, Erin, and I, competing to flirt with you because you were the only good-looking dude in the room full of our geeky friends. We played kings and you drew the truth or dare card that we appointed during a previous “make-a-rule” round, and you had to say who you would fuck in that room, and in which position. You chose Erin, doggy style, which I would never admit at the time but kind of injured my pride. From that minute on I resolved I would catch your attention.
I remember that silly note that Ken wrote and slid threw our door, pretending to be you, because he was jealous of all the attention we gave you. It was a dumb thing, but I freaked out about it for a full two days wondering if possibly it could have been meant for me. Then, of course, we found out the truth, but that didn’t dampen my fascination for you. The next weekend, my friends came down from Princeton and I got really, really drunk pregaming with them. When they left I went up to your room and after a while we were conveniently left alone. You showed me some Russian animation videos of a bear called Cheburaska, which you adored, and a crazy screen you invented which would display in neon lights whatever message you input into it on the computer.
I remember standing next to you and smiling down at you, thinking, this guy is so brilliant, as you told me about the schools you transferred from and drew me that goofy world map of the places you went to all your life, with penned-in lines bouncing from country to country like those maps you read in en-route airplane magazines. We looked at each other and next thing I knew we were kissing, and you picked me up by my shoulders and threw me on your bed, against your wall, you climbed on top of me and I could feel the little prickly hairs on your chin and around your mouth. We did this for a while, you on top of me, sliding your hands under my shirt, and then I had to pull away and I had to stop. I climbed off your bed and smiled sheepishly and said I had to go. You didn’t push me. You said I could come back whenever I wanted. And I left.
I remember thinking after that that was one of the hottest makeouts of my life. All this was before you became famous.
Shortly after that I knew it was me who made it awkward. I felt strange when I would go up to your room for whatever reason, and you would be standing there with your shirt stained red from whatever crazy experiment you had just conducted, and you looked at me and winked at me. I looked away because I didn’t know how to conduct myself, and we never really did hook up again, but you didn’t blame me for being weird.
You even came down to my room once, after, to talk to me about privacy. I still remember how passionate you were about these causes that you knew so much about. I was blown away by your energy and your intelligence, once again, even though I was too young and naiive to fully appreciate what you stood for. I remember you saying “If we don’t fight for our privacy now, we’re going to lose our chance.” You had so many ideas. You wanted to save the world. I believed that you had the power to.
After that I told Jane about our conversation. She said, “I really don’t see what you guys see in him, I really don’t think he’s that smart.” Boy, did you prove those haters wrong. After that semester, I went to London, so I didn’t see you again, but when I heard about you next it was already in the newspapers. When I read that New York Times article, I smiled from ear to ear because I knew you were finally making a name for yourself for what you believed in. You took your dream and you actually made it happen—how many people have that kind of drive, nevermind ability, at the age of 20?
I know Diaspora was a four-person project, but there is no doubt in my mind that most of the vision behind it was yours and yours only. I know that from the conversations we had, from the look in your eye, from the conviction and passion that guided everything you did. Even when we were hooking up or before that, when I was interested in you, I was always firmly aware of how much girls were a secondary priority to you compared to the things you were passionate about. You were such a man, in that way.
I remember boasting like an idiot to all my friends: “I hooked up with someone who is now famous!” I was so proud for sticking my tongue into your mouth that one drunken night. I was so proud that I knew you—even though barely—because that article confirmed to the world how extraordinary and talented you were. I think I thought maybe some of your shine would rub off on me too. You inspired me to think that maybe I could actually be somebody. I remember how reading about you made me so happy to be at NYU- getting to know people who could actually be, somebody, who could actually change the world in the future. I felt so confident in the youth of our generation and so proud to be young that day.
And now you’re gone. It’s hard to imagine, impossible to accept. I still remember your look, your laugh, the way you talked and walked and acted. I was far from your close friend—maybe not even close enough to you to be an acquaintance, but you can be sure that you made a big impact on my life. I wish you could see that. I wish, before you made the decision to die, that you could see how many people were touched by you and inspired by you, who were cheering for you to succeed. I had been imagining the day when you would become the next Mark Zuckerberg, albeit an ethical, even more brilliant Mark Zuckerberg, and I could pat myself on the back and say, I knew that guy. We even had a little thing. But now, that day will never come. You had so much potential. You were so one of a kind. Why, why did you have to cut everything short? You could have made the world a better place. You were already in the process of doing so. 22 years old. You had the whole world in front of you, Ilya.
I know I will never understand why you did it, but even to an unassuming almost-stranger like me, you will always live in my memory—all the snippets of moments I can string together in my head of fall semester sophomore year, of which you were a definite highlight. Ilya, you were brilliant, kind, funny, one of a kind, extraordinary. And definitely one of the best kissers I have ever known.
The world is going to miss you.
11.07.2011
I'm not being retarded for once!
I'm definitely getting better and better at this "getting over" thing. now when i think about you, i hardly blink an eyelid.
I'm still pretty fascinated by the person you are though. i just can't figure you out. do you really have no feelings at all/ are you completely oblivious to everything? you can't possibly be as big of a jackass as your image projects. You can't have NO emotions at all. Is that even possible? Maybe I'm giving you too much credit, but I like to think you're human at least. Honestly, those things you say don't hurt me much because I expected them. I'm more than clued in on where every girl here sits on the hotness spectrum, and I have no delusions. I have to admit, though, that saying stuff like that is probably not the wisest idea on your part because you're in danger of ruining your game hard when you're drunk.
I just can't figure out if you're either A) really, really dumb or B) really, really smart. There's no possibility of anything in between. I don't know which option would be better, though, from my point of view.
I know you're really into sucking those other kids' dicks, which I can't really understand except for the fact that they do have a lot in common with you, albeit not in a good way. I really hope you're not just social climbing/ trying to look cool because that would be pretty lame and high school of you. Hopefully the rest of this semester you can prove to me than you're more than that, 'cause even though now I really hold no more delusional hopes, I'd still like to think I wasn't wasting my time and energy all this while being so nice to you.
P.S you're definitely 9/ 10 looks wise-- no need to fake being humble.It's really the inside that counts, though. you can attract someone's attention with your looks, but to really keep it you've got to stop acting like an ignorant asshole all the time. I do have to thank you though, because that's tremendously helped me in terms of getting over you.
I'm still pretty fascinated by the person you are though. i just can't figure you out. do you really have no feelings at all/ are you completely oblivious to everything? you can't possibly be as big of a jackass as your image projects. You can't have NO emotions at all. Is that even possible? Maybe I'm giving you too much credit, but I like to think you're human at least. Honestly, those things you say don't hurt me much because I expected them. I'm more than clued in on where every girl here sits on the hotness spectrum, and I have no delusions. I have to admit, though, that saying stuff like that is probably not the wisest idea on your part because you're in danger of ruining your game hard when you're drunk.
I just can't figure out if you're either A) really, really dumb or B) really, really smart. There's no possibility of anything in between. I don't know which option would be better, though, from my point of view.
I know you're really into sucking those other kids' dicks, which I can't really understand except for the fact that they do have a lot in common with you, albeit not in a good way. I really hope you're not just social climbing/ trying to look cool because that would be pretty lame and high school of you. Hopefully the rest of this semester you can prove to me than you're more than that, 'cause even though now I really hold no more delusional hopes, I'd still like to think I wasn't wasting my time and energy all this while being so nice to you.
P.S you're definitely 9/ 10 looks wise-- no need to fake being humble.It's really the inside that counts, though. you can attract someone's attention with your looks, but to really keep it you've got to stop acting like an ignorant asshole all the time. I do have to thank you though, because that's tremendously helped me in terms of getting over you.
11.05.2011
saturday night doing nothing productive as usual
sore all over from aoki and feeling lazy. for once i don't feel very emotional about anything. think i'm getting jaded. have made a decision to move to hong kong after graduation. maybe i'll actually get my life together soon?
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