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| _____________________________ "Wish Tree"- Yoko Ono |
Yesterday, the incredibly postponed trip to New York City was finally completed. I think SoHo has more H&Ms than Duane Reades. Nonetheless, I am a happy camper, and I think I have had enough outside food to last me about a week. Yes, I am actually that dythyrambic about eating and the city life. On the train trip home, I made a mental note (actually, I'm only kidding, I made an actual iPhone note) about the pressing topics that I have wanted to discuss about life, yet only managed to scrounge up four. So much for remembering things.
The title of this post is from one of Regina Spektor's songs, called "Folding Chair". Hopefully you, whoever you are, clicked the play button above and are currently listening to her eclectic, indie pop genius while simultaneously reading this. Speaking of reading, I currently have my nose buried deep within my school's tattered old copy of 1984. Not that bad, if you favor negative utopias and total world domination.
Somehow, this takes me back to the time when I was a people-judger. Now, everyone at some point in their lives has looked at someone and said to themselves: In the three minutes and twelve seconds that I have met, seen, and spoken to this person, I know them inside and out. And I don't mean this as sexual innuendo, what I am trying to get at is the personality of the person. Their interests, what makes them click, how they interact with others. I used to tell myself that the name of a person reflected how difficult it was to really get to know them: the more intricate, extraordinary, and strange...the better. Take my friend Chloe, as an example. Her name is unique, and so is her entire demeanor. You never exactly know who, or what for that matter, she will be drawn to next, and her ditsy lifestyle, at least to me, is not that easy to predict. Yet I love it.
I know this is an incredibly incorrect way to look at someone, but I have trained myself since I was young to judge people this way. It's a hard habit to let go of, for denomination never can truly tell who someone is on the inside. It's like that old proverb, just mixed up a bit: You can never judge a book by its [title].
Or like choosing a truffle from a gigantic box of chocolates. One can't predict what the filling will be.
Or like choosing a truffle from a gigantic box of chocolates. One can't predict what the filling will be.
I want a dream-catcher tattoo.
Actually, scratch that. I just want a tattoo.
Goodbye, for now.
P.S.- I love talking, if you couldn't already tell by now.
P.P.S- I also love not being in love.
P.S.- I love talking, if you couldn't already tell by now.
P.P.S- I also love not being in love.
