an open space

Stars "Calendar Girl"

october 14

Life is so serious. It's all jobs and chores and deadlines.

I miss the simplicity and wonderment of my childhood. Big dreams. Cousin Jack told me once he wanted to be an excavator driver or one of those men who plays the accordion down by the subway station. Udom wishes most for a pet giraffe, where he could climb on its neck and pick fruit from high places. My dad told me on the phone the other day, that he found 60 pages of an old half-finished novel I wrote when I was 12 years old. And I remember me then. I wanted to be S.E. Hinton. I wrote the story in first person, and I still remember my main character and the color of her eyes and the way she arranged the furniture in her room. Then, I had so much ambition. Where did all that go?

All of my plans for tonight fell apart, and I'm sitting at my desk in the dark, drawing illustrations of robots on my macbook. My new plans are to copy sketches by Kareena Zerefos, and hide in my headphones. I got new music from Alban a few days ago and haven't yet found time to listen to it all. I sometimes forget I'm a big introvert, and that quiet nights to myself are nice and don't come too often.

My insides sing dissonance. What is balance? I don't know. I don't have it.
But I find joy in this thing called life and living.