Friday, September 28, 2012

For You In Full Blossom

AHHHHHHH I need to watch this drama so badly T.T But I know that if I start now I'll start having even more schedule troubles and whatnot and seriously just collapse in class one day. But whyyy, after I waited a year for it, why was it started this summer? Grrr. Better question, why am I so busy these days?

I'm just going to crawl into a corner and console myself with the fact that I can catch up after the PSAT and watch THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER with EMMA WATSON and LOGAN LERMAN. Gosh. Maybe all this nervous energy is finally breaking down my composure..

Too Stressed

'All goes to show that the soul in man is not an organ, but animates and exercises all the organs; is not a function, like the power of memory, of calculation, of comparison, but uses these as hands and feet; is not a faculty, but a light, is not the intellect or the will, but the master of the intellect and the will; is the background of our being, in which they lie,—an immensity not possessed and that cannot be possessed."



"The shows of the day, the dewy morning, the rainbow, mountains, orchards in blossom, stars, moonlight, shadows in still water, and the like, if too eagerly hunted, become shows merely, and mock us with their unreality."


Tuesday, September 11, 2012


What's so simple in the moonlight, by the morning never is.

Monday, September 10, 2012

Almost Like Me, Just More So

"I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."

Sylvia Plath

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Belle Reve

A Streetcar Named Desire. When a dreamer dies, what happens to the dream?

Saturday, September 8, 2012

Don't Judge

"Socializing is as exhausting as giving blood. People assume we loners are misanthropes, just ­sitting thinking, ‘Oh, people are such a bunch of a******s,’ but it’s really not like that. We just have a smaller tolerance for what it takes to be with others. It means having to perform. I get so tired of communicating."

Anneli Rufus

Friday, September 7, 2012

Drowning in Knowledge

"I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is."

Sylvia Plath

Such Intense Writer's Block

"Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to." Sylvia Plath