rina
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2006 14 January :: 10.42pm
:: Mood: hopeless
:: Music: a lack of color - deathcab
and when i see you, i really see you upside down
i feel like i can't use the word 'depressed.'
it has such negative connotations.
as if, when you're sad about your cat dying, for example, you're just grieving. you're sad.
though if you instead say, i'm so depressed about my cat dying, its like saying that not only did your cat die, but your whole entire family died, and you're hanging on to that one inch of life you have left because of the pills that you pop, as much as you breathe oxygen.
so, examples aside,
i'm very sad at the moment.
i'm in this rut where nothing i say,
or do,
will get me out of it.
oh, i'm hoping you'll understand me when the time comes.
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rina
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2006 4 January :: 12.44am
:: Music: calculation theme - metric
passions have eroded anyway
i wish i had some kind of astounding insight into life that someone else could relate to.
as of now,
my views, perspectives, opinions, are clouded by what i have yet to experience; as if everything i've never done is directly deciding how i see the world around me.
and more than ever, my sketchbook is becoming my journal.
sometimes, when people ask to see it,
i kind of curl up inside of myself, because all the drawings that are in there tie into some emotion or event, and it is very significant for me.
i've transferred myself onto paper.
so maybe,
perhaps if i have the time,
i'll scan some of my sketchbook entires.
because i think that some part of me is restricting my emotions.
like if i don't get over the feelings i already have, they will just fester inside of me and transform into something hideous.
and i wouldn't be able to handle that.
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rina
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2005 31 December :: 9.36pm
:: Mood: distressed
:: Music: dead guys with bombs - chris beck
heart has nothing to do with it
i hate that the only place you'll ever know as home is yourself.
and that your house, your family, your life, can feel like a prison.
the way glass shatters across a tile floor, that's how life is.
each little piece glinting, reflecting images of how you could be or how you were.
each tiny image of yourself distorted and broken against the grout cracks and the cold marble.
some pieces are bigger than the others, obviously,
but the smallest ones are always the most convoluted,
with a twistingly morbid sense of detail.
the prettier the point, the deeper the cut.
its that all-roses-have-thorns-you-know.
i hate this so much, wishing i was anywhere but here, but with no actual place to end up.
if only for the journey, i'd like to never come back.
because having a fixed destination is most definitely, and completely and utterly compromised, because no matter what road you take, you'll just end up where you wanted to go in the first place.
and isn't that just dandy.
i absolutely cannot stand the feeling of having my future decided for me.
if human beings are anything, they for sure aren't obedient.
i guess we live for the revolution.
and as a side note:
shittiest new year's ever.
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rina
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2005 30 December :: 10.21pm
:: Mood: destructive
:: Music: comptine d'un autre: l'apres midi
start with something you love
pretend everything you've ever known will only be forgotten.
and that this life you're looking for,
[the-spark-the-drive-the-meaning]
will never be found.
think, if you will,
about postcards from future faces, past places, infinite spaces.
and that this link you've searched for,
[these-murmur-whisper-slurs-of-ours]
can't ever be replaced.
imagine that your world, life, universe, doesn't belong to you.
and all that you can remember is gone,
[frenetic-thoughts-memory-loss-no-regrets]
because it was never up to you anyways.
try if you might to create a time when everything you have is everything you aren't.
and believe you have an identity of your own,
[the-symmetry-the-blasphemy-the-hypocrisy]
when really you're just a mirror of another.
now think of us,
[the-past-present-future-us]
and imagine that none of it mattered.
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rina
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2005 16 December :: 3.12am
:: Mood: insightful
:: Music: mad world - gary jules
the dreams in which im dying are the best i've ever had
adaptation is compromise.
it takes a while to figure out, but once you get it,
life doesnt look so pristine
and school doesnt seem so important.
go ahead, try it.
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rina
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2005 5 December :: 8.20pm
:: Mood: discontent
:: Music: halcyon and on and on - orbital
when words are slurs
tongue-tied, watchful eyes,
a slight of hand could mean
fin
for the both of us
smoking pot, parking lots,
i hoped it wouldn't
end up like this,
i'm tired of our paralysis
waiting room, icu,
i never thought white could look
as barren as it does,
while i wait for the cause
misconceptions, false convictions,
you're failing just like
you normally do,
and the lcd is falling with you
funeral march, heavy heart,
i never wanted for you to
sink this low,
i suppose you'll never know
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rina
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2005 4 December :: 7.25pm
:: Mood: busy
:: Music: summer skin - death cab
how a theoretical physicist finds love (re: when science stops working)
it's in the cracks, the in-betweens, the explained unexplainables.
when freckles go from pigments,
to constellations,
to colliding molecules and supernovas.
it's the amaranthine sky filled with nuclear reactions.
and you know you could just call it rain,
instead of thinking that precipitate,
is just another word for change
and when life becomes less measured in minutes,
but more in breaths, glances, sighs,
you think its time
to stop calculating when the chemistry will be created
because in a room full of whiskey and wishes,
when it ceases to be music and instead becomes
cerulean beats and brick-red rhythms,
thinking clearly doesn't register
what was once gravity and equations
slowly, gradually, evolves into invisible hands and,
light goes from enigma,
to heart beats,
to artery explosions .
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rina
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2005 4 December :: 2.28am
:: Mood: whatever
:: Music: i will follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie
love of mine, someday you will die
i hate when people look down upon me because i don't harbor the same beliefs as them.
or when they try to save me from the error of my ways.
the error of seeing religions more as guidelines than a cult.
which is harsh, i know.
but i cannot believe a celestial being created the earth in six days, and that humans appeared out of no where.
lately i've been reading about several religions, traditions, mythologies.
i've decided to pick and choose,
and then form my own religion.
a set of beliefs that would fluxuate and change as i realize, discover, experience.
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rina
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2005 14 November :: 3.26am
:: Mood: blah
:: Music: ruby blue - róisín murphy
ready to go, go, go
i suppose this is quite unhealthy.
being awake at 3.30 on a school night and such.
it doesn't faze me though.
it should, but it does not.
the only thing it succeeds in doing is making me tired and rather irritable.
oh, i wish i was nocturnal.
or that everyone else slept the way i do.
maybe it wouldnt be so lonely when you're splitting time with another person.
ah well.
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rina
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2005 13 November :: 12.53am
:: Mood: thoughtful
:: Music: cosy in the rocket - psapp
nobody knows where we might end up
i miss this.
but the truth is, nothing's all right anymore.
what is?
i'm down down down, drowning in work i can't finish.
my head spins just thinking about it.
so i'm thinking, deciding about what to do next.
what to think next.
i'm pretty sure i need a vacation, and soon.
art has taken a swift turn from the believable to the surreal.
i'm making up things that don't make sense.
and apparently its disconcerting for others.
i'm much too morbid for their taste, maybe.
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rina
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2005 27 September :: 7.50pm
:: Mood: blah
:: Music: gunboat - vixtrola
space can wait
oh we're cruel
we've got the makings of generals
and we're still arguing about who's top gun
with lives like these
we could live on the sun
but knowing us, we'd like the moon better
and in the time it'd take us to change our minds
we'd've already lost a lifetime
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rina
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2005 26 September :: 6.38pm
:: Mood: annoyed
:: Music: we looked like giants - death cab for cutie
chemical distraction
she's into chemistry and always has a book under her nose, like she can unlock the secrets of the universe between its pages. because sometimes she thinks its possible.
but other times, most of the time, she's wondering if there's life after equilibrium, or how love is like chemicals, and if all the elements in the world will bring her lover back home.
and when she looks at things it's all disjointed, atoms crashing at each other, and she's hoping that one day everything will get along just fine.
so when the winter comes with its chill, and its news, and its gray gray skies, she thinks she'll never love anything again.
and she can't help deciding that somehow its all her fault, she should've looked for him, and maybe if she did, this horrible thing might not have happened.
she puts all her books away.
now its summer and she's got powerlines in her bloodlines because even if it still hurts, she's not wondering whether love is like a sodium explosion.
her hair is brown and everywhere, and sometimes when she cries the only thing she wishes is for molecules to rearrange and make a person to hold her.
and when he comes to her door after months and days, she's thinking it's most likely a dream.
and when he takes her towards something like potassium bombs of light, she hopes its real, so much so that her brain rejects anything but the moment.
because deep down inside, she knew that life was just a hoax, and even if it did taste bitter, she gulped the cyanide down anyways.
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rina
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2005 26 September :: 6.24pm
:: Mood: aggravated
:: Music: agenda suicide - the faint
none of you know what the fuck is going on, so please stop pretending that you do.
thank you.
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rina
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2005 21 September :: 3.34am
:: Mood: tired
:: Music: revolution - aimee allen
if i could get out, i'd start a revolution
still not asleep.
which is not good, i don't think.
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rina
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2005 19 September :: 11.05pm
:: Mood: sad
:: Music: j'y suis jamais alle
4am was always our favortie time
we used to talk like this
with twisted words and swirling emotions
the way some talk about houses, cars, jobs
[all that normality, conformity]
we spoke in languages of rebellion
no mention of the past, filled with boyish sighs
jellybean highs
we’re so immature, i think, when we talk about leaving
getting away from it all
when really we’re just separating from each other
late nights of planning, wishing
we’re nearing a breakdown
[nuclear bomb reaction, distraction]
so when you say, lets leave
i say, we need to wait
say, we need a guide during the night
[stars were always my favorite light]
and when you don’t reply i take it as a yes
because you could never disagree with me anyways
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