I need to remind myself that I am in control of my emotions.
I have so much to be grateful for. It is important to remember that. Not easy, but important.

Maybe this opportunity will pass me by because of who I am right now. Maybe I am not ready to perpetuate transformational social change if I am still working on myself.

I am a good person and a deserving person but I am also jealous and prideful. I thought I had a true epiphany when I realized that acceptance/rejection to a program does not define me or my success; as it turns out, this epiphany was short-lived. When I begin to doubt myself,  my pattern of self-deprecation, loathing, and comparing myself to others returns. Maybe that's why I was put in this situation: To shake these useless emotions once and for all, and to show that I can graciously accept the success of others when things do not go my way.

I hope that success DOES find me this time, but if I have to keep looking for it, let me not stand in the way of Ravi's well-deserved happiness by feeling sorry for myself. This is NOT about me.

Perhaps, as much as I hate to admit it, I need to learn that lesson once and for all.

pixel envy

it's amazing how motivating it is to be jealous.

pixel envy

worlds unfold in bitter pixels
aching to be yours

digital stories born on Facebook
pixels overflowing
begging to belong to someone more deserving
someone like you, perhaps

and there is nothing left to do but be a hero

you can give them new life, new truth
you can photoshop yourself into the picture
your face atop a size 2 body on spring break from Harvard,
since your face is better, anyway

and there is nothing left to do but be a hero
to give them the story they're entitled to

jittery, trembling pixels
descend,
a cloud of flies upon the screen that blocks their path

shaking, rueful pixels,
wait for you to rescue them
to reach past the digital proscenium
and run.

A Poem Inspired by Mediocrity

I am afraid:

Afraid

That my insides are Splenda

When my bones ache for sugar,

And my tongue collapses

Under the weight of fake white crystal,

With an after-taste.

I am afraid:

Afraid

That I’ve become my own handshake

With my worth in my grip.

That I’ve become the essay handed in late

And two pages too short.

That I am more virtual than physical,

The sum of Facebook and Friendster and Linkedin:

Digital revisions of self

Tell the story of triumph.

No matter,

It’s been photoshopped in.

I am still Splenda,

Not sugar.

And,

I am afraid. 

French rap plays in the background. I breathe in and nod my head. The Atlantic Magazine website is open. I am searching for something, searching for an interesting article to post to my Facebook, searching for something to make me more colorful, to make people think I'm more colorful, that is.

That's what Facebook is for, after all. Building an identity when you've all but lost your own.

But

I am afraid. I am afraid that my insides are made of Splenda when they long to be sugar, that I am only an imitation of who I want to be.

With a desk. A computer. A professional phone-answering voice. A handshake.

Searching.

I am afraid of not knowing who I am or what I want. I am afraid of mediocrity. I am afraid of not living up to the person I always believed I'd become.

I am afraid of singing off key. I am afraid of sounding silly when I leave a message. I am tired, and I am trying to remember who I am and who I was.

heartsick.

runtie was an amazing, gentle, benevolent presence in my life - and now he's gone. it's been two days. i cannot seem to get through them without crying, at random- in the train station, during my commute, when i am alone in my house or working at hunter. there is an ache that doesn't go away. there are images of him suffering, the spastic movements of his body trying to fight against itself, his yowls as we tried to pick him up and hold him, him being surrounded by doctors in the emergency vets' office as they stuck tubes down his throat, liquids dripping out of his mouth because he was no longer willing or able to swallow, the panting, the crying. everything.

there are parallels with last year. his sunken eyes, his violent death, the days and nights i spent with him, confined to one room, waiting for the inevitable. force feeding. the things i did to try and cheer him up - the youtube videos of birds chirping, the constant petting.

it's all coming back. the guilt over what i could have done, should have done, didn't know and wish i did, etc. i feel as though i did all the wrong things and can't help but think i poisoned his body when i was trying to do the exact opposite. i am angry, at myself, but more so at the vets who failed my baby. i am angry that they didn't inform us of certain risks, angry that they didn't pay attention, angry that they sent my runtie home sicker than when we brought him in.

i am sad because runtie was one of my best friends. he was a constant in my life for 10 years. he was born on my bed. i watched him grow up. it is hard to accept that he's gone for good, that this unwavering source of comfort is no longer with me. i walk around the house and am reminded of him in every room, his fur is undoubtedly still on his favorite places to sit, but i wouldn't know which strands belonged to him.

i miss him terribly. i am full of regret and emptiness. i was lucky to have known such an amazing creature, but our time together was far too short. i know i need to accept this change in my life, but i simply can't. i don't feel ok.

i am heartbroken.

i know i'm thinking but i'm not certain about what. my mind moves, but it does not find words. i dunk myself into a pool of water, but emerge dry. i type furiously, purposefully, but the words come out jumbled, not really words but strings of letters, numbers and symbols that were times new roman in my head but wing dings on the screen.

i think i'm thinking, but i'm confusing thought with feeling. the difficulty is that, as uncertain as i am of what i might be thinking, i'm even more unsure of what i might be feeling.

i need to say something, but something is as specific as i can be. i have words, but i do not have the right words. i have a story that i've ripped up and put back together in a different order. i have a map without a beginning or an end. i have a hundred books i've finished without starting, and a hundred books i've started without finishing. madame bovary sits on the bed, waiting. perhaps her fatal flaw -- emma bovary's, that is-- is my own. perhaps her ache for grandeur is my own. her ache for precisely what she cannot have and her boredom with precisely what she does. i too have dreams that begin the moment that they end and end the moment they begin. the problem with this sort of dream is that it is never attainable; it is in a constant state of becoming.

still, all i want is to become.

my mind defies physics

haven't written in a while. sitting alone, awake at dawn.

afraid.

haven't written in a while. out of words, but ache so badly to say something.


---


i cannot be this person again. i am not strong enough to support others when i can barely hold myself up.

i am flimsy, a feather plucked gently off a pigeon that wasn't looking.


---

i always dream i make mistakes. i set fires and when i try to put them out, i make them bigger.

---

i haven't listened to music in a while. like, really listened. suddenly, i am enveloped by it. it is the only thing that speaks to me.

---

people are moving. things are changing. i may appear still as stone, but i'm not steady as i look. i am lava melting into earth. disappearing from sight and sound and consciousness but still bubbling hot with anticipation that something might finally get better.

---

the ache, indescribable. i feel it in my face. i feel it in my chest, my throat, my fingers, my toes. the sadness of others surrounds me...my own silently explodes.

---

haven't written in a while. out of words, but not for lack of feeling.

---

hopeless.

---

alone in a forest of trees falling silently.

All is change. Graduation. Cap and gown. Fulfillment. Emptiness. Uncertainty.

He should have been there.

With my qualifications I can work at the Sleepy's Mattress Store or be a mail carrier.

I dreamt I was in a tornado. I dreamt my mother died. I dreamt I kissed Lynette Scavo from Desperate Housewives. I dreamt I got swept up in a strong wind. I dreamt I was an orphan. I dreamt I was in a tornado, again, again, again.

There are always ghosts. Ghosts on the boardwalk, the Brooklyn Bridge, a song, your room. I see you but you disappear.

The grief weighs me down. The more time that passes, the more real his absence becomes. Seven months later, I'm (finally?) facing my father's death. I'm finally feeling the large, gaping hole and the ambiguity of the future. I don't know any longer what I want to do with my life. Law? Journalism? Diplomacy? Teaching? Novel writing? Poetry? I have the passion and the drive, but I've lost momentum. I don't know where to go from here. School? Work? Stay-at-home daughter? Sigh.

The things I most want to do will likely pay horribly. I'm not obsessed with dollar signs or anything, but I want to live comfortably and work reasonable hours. I've spent hours- days- browsing jobs and opportunities and I've yet to figure out what career will be both personally and financially rewarding. I always knew what I wanted and went for it, but that was easier to do when I was in school and could avoid thinking of practicality.

I'd love to be a Foreign Service Officer, but that means leaving family for years to serve abroad. Can I leave my mom - my everything - for that length of time? And when I get married, can I ask my husband to put his own career goals on hold so he can come with me? I no longer know what I am made of, nor am I certain what I am willing to sacrifice to get ahead.

Can I settle for a normal but happy life or will I be unsatisfied with anything but adventure? But then, what EXACTLY is adventure? I'm SURE there is something in this world that I can love doing, but what?

The grief weighs me down. Grief for Daddy, but also for college. Things were so much simpler when I had a full scholarship, a free dorm, and time to figure out what I was doing. But time wasn't time at all, and it passed so quickly.

For almost half of college, I faced life with a dying father, and it was the most important half, the half where I was meant to decide some big things about life. I was supposed to be interning at newspapers and non-profits when I was home watching movies with my dad or at the hospital holding his hand. It feels as though I've lost everything. So many great opportunities are only open to undergraduates. "Entry-level" jobs still demand experience, but how can I get said experience without having done a single internship? I've had more life experience in two years than many people have had in twenty, but can I put that on a resume? Will my devotion to my family get me hired?

The truth is, I'm afraid. I thought I was qualified for more than fetching coffee or flipping burgers. It was bad enough that I lost my father, but why does it feel like I've lost direction, drive, and appetite for greatness?

I want to do something great, but I need to do it for the right reasons. I won't become great if I only do it to to prove myself. I need to regain the passion I had once. I need to have dreams again.

I feel like I am floating. My fingers and eyes explore the world's possibilities on a computer screen, but then the computer crashes, and the world closes in on me.

I may seem pessimistic, but that isn't it. I'm simply lost.

The death changed me, I suppose. I find it more difficult to connect with people, these days. I feel distant from even my closest friends. I miss them but I don't know what to say to them anymore. When I'm with them, I feel disconnected from their world, their jokes, all that I missed when I was with my family.

But, I WILL find my way, though I won't do it alone. The first step is realizing that I am imperfect, and need a little help every once in a while.

all i can say is that this semester is FUCKING MISERABLE. i pulled an all-nighter just so i could go out on my birthday, then i worked all day saturday and pulled another all-nighter saturday night. i didn't finish the immediate work i had to do until well into the afternoon on sunday. to make matters worse, i have school all day today, and a paper due thursday as well as a spanish exam. so basically, i have to work all fucking day tomorrow. And I'm sick...AGAIN! I've been getting sick so much lately, probably because I don't have time to sleep :( this is awful. all i wanted was for my second semester of senior year to be calm and relaxing after everything i went through last year, and it's just the worst thing in the world. we're only 3 weeks into the semester! this is supposed to be the easy time! i'm afraid it's only going to get worse...

you always won at board games
and you always won at cards

your luck was better in monopoly
than it was in life

you died young
but still your racecar races
down the board

and your battleship,
it battles on.

--

today it makes 4 months. i can't believe it's been so long. every day it feels like i lose a little more of you. i lost you all at once, but i suppose i just couldn't take it in the moment. so i lose you little by little, like i'm slowly sipping tea until the cup is empty.

---

i cannot lose you all at once
so i slowly sip my tea
and lose you one sip at a time.

the cup is nearly empty;
it's been four months since you've gone.
and still,
my quaking hand is holding on.

the moment's come and left,
but it comes and comes again
as i drag it out with every sip,
i do not gulp.

the tea is nearly gone,
but i'm afraid that i'll forget the taste
if i drink it down too fast.

as it is,
my tea's gone cold,
and i'm forgetting.

flabbergasted.

fuck you, dan. can't believe all i was to you was a piece of fricken meat!

new year is the only holiday i really associate with you, with our family unit being together as opposed to getting presents or eating. it is the holiday we play a family game, all of us, the one time a year this happens, especially recently. it was weird watching dick clark counting down to 2011 without you here. i cant stand that theres just three of us now. i miss you like crazy. its 2011. i want to say good riddance to 2010, but i dont think i can, because at least you were with us for most of it. as bad as it was, you were here.

i think i almost cried at midnight. i think my mom did too. but we both held it in because we were playing monopoly, and trying to at least pretend things were normal. they weren't. they'll never be. not that normal. maybe some new-fangled version of normal, but never again will anything be the same.

got my a+ in spanish. you should have been here.

i love you.

i've been thinking of you tons as i get my grades back. i have one more left to get, but even this semester, i've managed to pull off a 4.0 so far, though i technically haven't gotten all of my grades. A in middle eastern history. A+ in essay writing. still waiting on spanish...but even without my spanish grade, i know you'd be proud. i constantly wish you were here so i could share my successes with you, little as they may be. i've told so many people how well i've done in school, in spite of the insanity this semester and the odds against me, and no one seems quite as excited as i am. i know you would be though. i just wish you were here to be proud. i wish you were here to give me advice on what the hell to do with my life after college, even if it means nagging me about how i should go to law school instead of gallivanting around the world aimlessly to places you probably think are too dangerous. i wish you were here to send me emails about the countries you don't want me to go to. i wish you were here to warn me about the rate of infectious diseases in ghana. i just wish you were here period. and god, it hurts so much.

i think of you when that Coolio song, "Ill See U when You Get Here," comes on, the one that you noticed in Atlantic City because it uses classical music.

the bottom line is, i miss you every second of every day. i am constantly reminded of you. everything is strange and foreign without you. nothing feels right and nothing feels the same. i can't get over how unfair this is. i'm doing better than i was, really trying to have a positive attitude, enjoy life, and appreciate what i have, but the moments i miss you sort of build up. in and of themselves, they're bearable, but after a while, my heart grows heavy with longing. i wish i'd had a more definitive conversation with you towards the end establishing that you were alright. my memories of you towards the end are of you not trusting us, telling us not to let anyone take you away, not to take away the house from you, not to kill you, etc. i know that that wasn't you, that it was the toxins in your brain making you paranoid, but i still can't shake these memories. i'm having trouble with them. i'm having trouble with the fact that you weren't ready to go and that you were so afraid of the end. i think of that morning when i woke up to see you stroking my mom, and i feel that perhaps that was the moment you started to come to terms with things. but by then you could barely speak. i just wish we had talked. i wish you had been able to tell us what you were feeling. i wish i had been braver and better and more attentive. most of all, i just wish you were here, still...and well. i wish this whole year hadn't happened. i wish that my typing all of these wishes out would actually make them come true. i wish that there is life after death, and that you know about my grades and you ARE proud of me still, even if you can't tell me so. just please, please let me see you again someday. i've never been patient, but i can manage to wait if i know we'll reunite. i want things to be OK, but how can they be when i miss you so much and when i want so badly to know if you are more than ashes scattered at sea?

just wondering, how is it already the middle of december?

it kind of scares me how time is passing...it will be two months in two days...

heard these song lyrics today (see below) while listening to my ipod. they, in the context of the song, seem to be about a search for god. but they also so resonate with me. they remind me of my own struggles with friends, feeling like i need people only when they aren't there, and wondering if i did something to provoke their sudden absence.

"Why do I always need to need you when you're fleeing?
Where do you go when I'm around?
What have I done? What have I lost that's so defeating?
And have the nerve to wear the crown?"


sigh. music makes me feel just a little less alone.

on another note, houston is great! after speaking with my mom and getting a call from katie, i'm in less of a good mood because my bubble of distraction was somewhat burst. but overall, everything has been wonderful here! the people are so down-to-earth and friendly. i really like the campus environment, and OH YEAH, that i wore sandals and a tank top today! seeing tsz has been wonderful. we really have no shortage of things to talk about. it's been so refreshing to be in an environment with virtually no reminders of anything. i actually spent the entire day, until the evening, laughing and smiling and barely thinking about my troubles at home. i've also gotten plenty of studying done. i'll be sad to leave, but hopefully when i return i'll feel refreshed and ready trudge on. i think i just really needed a break and to remember how it feels to laugh.

the fact of the matter is, sometimes, my mom is the only thing that keeps me here.

HOUSTON BOUND TOMORROW NIGHT TIL SUNDAY!

I think it will be the perfect change of scenery. AND IT WILL BE IN THE 70s!! Ahh...so much better than NYC :)

Of course, I argued with my mom about it. She's scared the plane will crash and I'll die, pretty much. Fair enough. I mean, given everything.

I hope that I come back from Houston with a change of attitude. I hate being this insecure and taking things personally, but sometimes it's really difficult not to :(

leaaaaavinggggg on a jet plane?

FUCK EVERYONE

I just want to give my middle finger to the world, pick up, and leave this place.

at first i was thinking small, like visiting other friends in nyc and getting away from my dorm/home. then i realized i have sky miles...

I CAN GO ANYWHERE IN THE U.S.! well, pretty much anywhere, anyways...but preferably somewhere warm!

the symbolic gesture of literally fucking off amidst finals and family obligations might be exactly what i need. of course, i'll get back in time for finals and i'll bring my hw with me. but still, it would be nice to go. and what's more, it would be nice to go without telling anybody that i'm going. just leaving and letting them wonder where the fuck i am.

my phone will be off, along with gchat, skype and all other ways to reach me. maybe i'll even -gasp- delete facebook. and most of all, i will be far far away from this dreadful, freezing, concrete hell-hole.

all the people i've been "bothering" will have their much-needed break from me, and i'll have my much-needed break from them too.

truthfully, i can't stand most people anymore. especially the ones with whom i'm closest. i feel like their patience has run out, and it's making me think that i'm either: a) going crazy b) a burden c) annoying d) should be "over" my dad's suffering/death by now or e) all of the above.

in short, a lot of my friends are making me feel like shit. their solution to my problems is/was telling me to go to sleep and that things will be better in the morning when i'm not over-thinking them as much. but you know what? yes, i know i tend to over-think things in many cases, but most of these problems do NOT come from that! in fact, they barely require any thinking or fabrication at all! they are simply a flood of horrible, painful memories and it's great that my friends were there for me when the death happened, but reactions to something this immense take time. mine happened to be delayed, as many people's are. and this is exactly what i was afraid of...that when it finally hit me, i'd be alone.

fuck fuck fuck

FUCK

and no, i'm really not over-thinking that fact that a) my father is gone forever b) he suffered like fucking crazy c) my family is currently too poor to eat without taking from our savings d) i have no idea what i'm doing with my life e) i don't even know

and frankly, i don't think i'm reading too much into the fact that people have seemed somewhat more distant lately. i mean, i don't think i ask for much. sometimes all i need is a room to hang in and a hug. but people have been giving off this vibe that i'm not welcome.

if i'm not welcome, well, i'm leaving. it's that simple. somehow, i'll find a way to be out of everyone's hair.

i can do this
i can do this
i can do this
i can do this
i can do this

if i repeat it enough, i think it will be true.


**


things can't be horrible forever. the pain will dull eventually, right? i have to be ok.

i can be. i will be...

DEC 5, appx. 6 to 8 AM: as i write index cards for middle eastern history, i realize that i am proud of myself for being on top of my work.
-i begin to write another card. it says: "note to self-- you can fucking do it."
-i begin to fear that this is true.
-while i am afraid of not succeeding, i am even more afraid of success.
-why?
-he never told me it would be OK. daddy never said i was allowed to move forward with my life.
-he refused to admit what was going on, thus did not talk about it, and did not have any last words of reassurance for me.
-i know he loved me, but how could he be OK with my forgetting, even for a moment, that he isn't here? and what's more, how could he be OK with my failing to remember all that he went through, & all 14 months of suffering?
-but how might i succeed without forgetting? how can i function without putting it out of my mind? how can i put it out of my mind without feeling guilty?
-little makes a difference:
-not logic
-not reassurance from others
-it just feels wrong.
-why didn't he just tell me it's OK to be OK?
-maybe because it isn't?
-i do not want to be the one to connect the dots.
-forever wondering