tears and tears.

what a strange day it was.
and what i really want
is the other version of this song.

so whats the deal with crying? right? its so strange. there was a specific point today where i almost started crying. actually two or three points. but at those points...i didn't have very good reason. then at a point where i had GREAT reason to cry...in fact said reason was pointed out by the very person who was inspiring it, my eyes could not have been dryer. it was so odd. i dont know. i just feel that if something as dramatic as water streaming out of your eyes is a very real and probable occurrence, it should at least be timely and appropriate. haha as if the world really gives a shit about what i feel. nice thought.

anyways i wanted to come home after work. for real home. so i took the late bus and had to walk about a mile home. a mile through my town. and as i was walking i was narrating. i could hear my voice inside my head remembering every little corner of my town. all the buildings and stores and sidewalk cracks and trees and stop lights and smells and sounds. it made me want to pull a tape recorder out of my pocket and throw down some miranda july type shit on the spot. it was really awesome. i have all these ideas. i have all these thoughts just constantly streaming. up and down, in and out, always moving. and i just dont have the capacity to give them the attention they deserve. the environment they deserve. because my mind and my body are not worthy of these ideas and thoughts. they just get lost inside somewhere between the fears and the silly distractions. and it seems like such a waste. all i could think was 'and how will i remember all this?' it seems so stupid to be really concerned about memories that have not formed yet. considering that memories are some of the most natural and organic and precious things we have to cherish. it is not up to me whether i remember things as magical or pathetic or painful. that simply isnt my choice. but i still wonder. when i come home after years, and i see that tiny restaurant behind the library that is only open 3 days a week during lunch. that restaurant that i have secretly always wanted to go to my entire life. i wonder how i will remember it. will i make fun of it? will i forget it? or will it always be a part of the mysterious corners of my childhood? does it matter? i really don't know.
its interesting that i find myself so concerned with the past. considering that i feel as though i am living more in the present that i have in quite some time. i am working almost everyday. waking up early and accomplishing tasks, as mundane as they may be. trying to really encourage new friendships and relationships and all those other kinds of ships. but i find myself regressing in other ways. i am spending most of my time with old faces. listening to old music. visiting places that i haven't seen in years and years. this does not concern me nearly as much as it interests me. maybe we exist in past, present and future always. just in different capacities. if my body is in the present and my heart in the past, and my mind in the future (focused on the past but still in the future)....then what does that even mean. where is my -ness. my lena-ness ha. organized but sometimes scattered?

im reading a wonderful book. it is called love in the time of cholera. it is by gabriel garcia marquez. i love summer reading more than anything. and i am so grateful that it loves me back. every summer i would spend everyday at the library reading as many books as i could before my vision went blurry. granted it was in the hopes that i would reach 1,000 pages and get a free pencil case but nonetheless...summer means reading. always and forever. i remember i always wanted the new books. not because i thought they were necessarily better, but because they looked cleaner ha. always a little priss i suppose. dirty books just really upset me even when i was little. i can still see the two shelved bookcase where they kept all the new arrivals. it was my first stop before the children's section. i loved my library. it was old and smelled like pencils and pine sol. good memories, iA.

in case you were wondering. i am lying in my bed singing a song in norwegian. min kvite russer. one of my favorite songs and memories. i had a mad crush on a boy. a boy from norway go figure. so i downloaded this song and spent about an hour memorizing words i would never understand. but they have meaning. so much meaning. when i sing the song i think of spring. i think of lying on the floor in my room and feeling light and romantic. i think everything is romantic actually ha. i told my aunt that i think linen pants are romantic and she laughed for a good 5 minutes. i can only imagine how strange my family thinks i am. oh well, it suits me.

i dont think i'll ever change. many have tried to change me and many have failed. there is a proverb that says train up a child in the way he should grow and he shall never depart from it. i believe that. because no matter what stupid shit i do or crazy things i say or wild performances i put on for others and even myself, im the same girl i always was. and if it ain't broke... ha. im only thinking of this because my boss today told me that im too nice. and that i need to be more gregarious. he was using the incorrect word, but he looked very pleased to be using it period so i let it go. what he meant is that i need to be more bitchy. and im just not bitchy. i am a non-confrontational people pleaser with a habit of smiling too often. sorry? not to say that im such a fantastic person. i have many many faults. i guess it is only fair to list 2 or 3. i tend to fool people into having high expectations for me knowing full well that i will eventually let them down, i am impossible to get in touch with....to the point that its pretty rude, and i hate dirty/old things (just let me have that one). oh and i say i do what i want....i rarely do what i want. ever.

unless its a dance party. i will have a dance party all over your face if thats the only space available. oh now i feel like i could write forever but i'd rather not. two days in a row is pretty damn impressive. but i would like to go to bed before 6 am....unlike yester(to)day. i might have a lunch date with girl kelly tomorrow. ever meet someone that pretty much sums up what you want to be when you grow up? thats my girl kelly. i spoke to her on the phone for an hour today. didn't even blink. i havent been on the phone for an hour since....01? haha. okay some ad for chinese weight loss tea just popped up. not into it.

bedtime.

late night movie.

its a shame that when i am home
all i want to do is sleep
and watch late night movies.

actually right now what i really want to do is write in this dumb blog, but i dont seem to have the inspiration, or motivation, or determination. whatever -ation i need, i dont got none. figures.

"if we hide, we will still lose"
i am watching the movie Small Soldiers. it is absolutely ridiculous and in full 90s wild style. a misunderstood pre-teen, girl next door love interest, awkward use of technology, good vs. evil the whole shabang. and i am loving it. not to mention david cross showed up out of NOWHERE. the bad jokes, capitalist propaganda and tactless drug references (crank, crystal meth, etc) its really a throwback to say the least. i dont know how i will one day remember "the 90s." it seems so silly to think about that now, but with each passing day the present fades and the past becomes more real. all the 'once weres' and 'used to bes' are what seem to make me smile and feel truly comfortable. i'd hate to think that this type of nostalgia will continue forever. that nothing will be as cool as it once was, or that nothing will feel as right as it once did. but maybe thats just the way life works. or life for now. i dont think that my life has actually started yet. which is also a little depressing ha. i just assumed that my real life, the one that counts will begin with my family. but this life counts to. the late nights and dance parties. art projects and long walks. all this good stuff will come in handy someday. can't wait.

its nearly 4 and i need to sleep. i would like to write a bit out my new job. it is hilarious and insane of course....like everything else i know ha. in the meantime, selah.

someday i might know my heart.

"and the words that i could never say are gonna come out anyway."
love that.

how long its been. right now im in my room. surrounded by all the little familiar things that mean nothing and everything all at once. i wonder what someone would make of me after seeing my room. all the empty glass bottles and old photographs. my vintage bob dylan cardboard poster, my copper jewelery stand. piles and piles of books and stacks of vogue magazines. dried flowers and pictures of spain. i'm not even sure what i can make of myself after taking a long hard look at the material things that surround me daily. i know that i feel good when im in my room, that i feel right. but maybe that has nothing to do with the "things" that are in it. maybe its the memories that live here. memories that i only assume are conjured up when i look over the remnants of my life. who knows? who cares? haha. it really doesnt matter. it matters that i have a teeny tiny corner of the earth that is like me in many ways.

so i was on the bus today and my mind started dancing around some of the shelved issues that live in the basement of my brain. i was thinking about war and love and blood. and i thought of something a friend said to me. i can't remember it word for word, but i was talking about having a close friend with very opposite views to mine in regards to a war or conflict or however you would like to label it. and he said 'but im sure that no matter who you support you both want peace.' and i nodded and said 'of course' and thought of it as a nice thing to say. but i lost track of that. i lost track of peace somehow. which seems so ridiculous. i got so stuck up on who is wrong and who is right and who has been hurt more and who has been given more that i forgot the only thing that matters. and i think that is peace. i think that i gravitate towards emotions and pain and inevitably that pain turns to bitterness and stubbornness and blindness. and that is so backwards. i could never blame someone who actually lives in a place of war and devastation for becoming bitter. i dont think it is the answer but i have no right to say how someone should feel in a situation i couldn't possibly relate to. but as for me, an outsider...i have no right. i have the gift of safety and peace and that gift allows for rationality where others may not have that as an option. i can see my thoughts weaving in and out of each other now and i think i should stop. at least until i can really figure out how i feel.

but its nice to be thinking about these things again. ive been lazy lately. mentally lazy. i think about good food, beautiful places, new friends, romantic movies. and all of those things are wonderful and should be thought about daily. but i've been ignoring many of the things that are important to me. things that i have an obligation to think about. injustice, hate, discrimination, poverty. all the things that are soo easy to forget about. a simple change of the station, turn of the head and its out of sight out of mind. how incredibly lucky i am. and what matters most is that it is only luck that has saved me. not good deeds or prayers or anything like that. just luck, and a twist of fate here and there. and luck is paper thin. so theres not much that keeps me from the rest of the world. at least thats how i like to think of it.

i'd like to start writing once a week. just to document where my head is at. i feel some interesting things coming along and im very excited. until then i'll just lay back and listen to chet baker. and everything just got a little bit classier.