thought dump

it sits there, plump and juicy and half-peeled. its insides are filled with liquid, it could burst any minute. under the bright grey daylight the skin is pockmarked like a teenager's face. not even worth the weight of two coins, i free the flesh within. drops of zest fill the air like dust. its irregular roundness is worrying. the translucent membrane skin glows like a baby's peach fuzz. i taste the crystalline drops of sunshine. happiness on earth is the first bite. 

thinking about not blogging anymore

After reading all her posts Ann thought that it was kind of pointless to continue blogging. She considered putting her energy into something else, like curating instagram stories or pinterest boards. The whole point of blogging, to Ann, was that she got to post a block of text that looked appealing to read later. Now she is wishing she was more organized with her journalling, google doc story, and blog posting. The problem with blogging is that it revolves around the "I," which becomes quite tedious to continuously read, because who wants to read about a random person's thoughts, with no consequence to themselves?

Ann imagined herself as a famous writer known for her "prolific stories about the present and past" but when it came to imagining the author's bio on the back flap of her books (published in hardcover, of course) her mind couldn't conjure up anything. That's probably because people with science backgrounds don't really publish much unless it was either extremely literary or extremely scientific. This fact may also be confounded by the fact that Ann doesn't really see herself fitting into any role anymore, unlike Ann from high school who was certain that she wanted to be an artist. She wants to know what to label someone such as herself, who enjoys doing a variety of creative acts, from painting to drawing to photography to writing. She has been wondering this exact question for a long time. It has been "in the back of her mind" and tends to pop up when she is feeling introspective. She does want to write a memoir now that she has read Trip by Tao Lin, because it was the type of writing that spoke to her, especially the end where Tao wrote about himself in the third person. 

She opened up Grammarly while writing this blog post. The tone detector detected confident, informal, and optimistic tones from her writing. She thought this was ironic. 

excerpts of emails i sent myself that i wished i could have used voice memos to record instead but was too shy to speak personal thoughts in public

October 22. Sometimes I feel myself speeding far away from my parents. It happened slowly over time without me realizing it. Reading tao lin gives me deep thoughts. I can relate to his discussion about feeling like life is mundane and boring. The way he writes in trip is very relatable and I wish I picked this up sooner

October 23. The older you grow the less black and white everything becomes. For example having a dog during the covid pandemic. It would make the dog happy to play with other dogs at a dog park but there is still a risk for it to catch something. Likewise, you're increasing your risk of covid exposure when you mingle with other dog owners at the park. Is there a compromise? Pragmatic people would say just don't own a dog. is my use of likewise correct? i saw a huge guy walking a tiny chihuahua today. I also saw a smiling man pass me with a little white dog. as I was leaving my house, I saw a girl walking her golden retriever, and then I saw her run up the street in the opposite direction as I was heading home. maybe I have enough material to write a poem chapbook about walking dogs and the meaning of life. 

October 25. Update on progress of trip reading: I find it hard to believe that an individual can obtain and use so many different types of drugs (opioids, amphetamines, methadone) without overdosing or having debilitating side effects. but i guess that's life. now i stridently march into this week. 

October 27. why is being professional harder than being friendly? every time i attend these zoom "career" sessions I get worried that I'm not doing enough with my career. I also realize talking about your "career" is altogether shameless. I am attracted to humble people who are just trying to do their best. When you talk career it becomes competitive and show-offish. You're only trying to  show off what little you have. Found a really cool tao lin poem.

Oct 30. how to make someone madly in love with me? 

Oct 31. Yani recommended this podcast during my bday zoom. it was nice to catch up with my network of friends in all sorts of fields. Since last week I've been offline. I am thinking of throwing away my phone for a day like tao lin did at the end of Trip. will update. It's hard to catch up.

Nov 1. I hurriedly did 2 assignments. 

Nov 2. I had my 2nd day of placement and it was really slow. Literally just did data entry using healthwatch the whole day and called some people. I applied for more money from the faculty. should have put my weekly "grosho" expenses as $500 grr. 

Nov 3. I received an email saying my memoir was accepted to the online QQ archive. after the acceptance e-mail, they asked if i would prefer e-transfer or direct deposit of $50. I cried after watching a particularly emotional episode of midnight diner. 

Nov 4. I watched the election numbers. They have been stuck all morning. 

i would like to stop being zen. i want to make people accountable for their behaviours. i dont want to be taken advantage of or feel like im being taken advantage of even though it might not really be happening. what is reality when you're being nice. everything feels fake. my friend invited me to go grocery shopping and then asked me not to come and instead to join next week because she invited too many people and assumed that i would be okay with this. does this make sense and is it okay to feel annoyed by this type of behaviour? i just want to have people commit to me and not the idea of hanging out with me. i probably did this to other people in the past but never said something like this to their face. i messaged her back saying don't invite me if you're going to un-invite me later. it felt like i stood up for myself, which is probably an overly dramatic way of putting it but hey, i was angry. (righteously?) doesn't matter. there have been other instances where it was clear that i was a second thought. when this happens i would just detach. or get back at them by unfriending them on facebook in high school. how un-zen of me. there is a purpose to this post, and it's to tell whoever's doing this to stop taking advantage of people. 

stream of consciousness

whining 

i am again lost in my sea of tabs that i've opened aimlessly, greedily, reading "blogs" nowadays 

attempting to fill a void with "tab shopping" 

this makes me feel like I'm supposed to reach out and share my thoughts, to stay connected 

even if i hand out pieces of my identity to the internet to swallow, who cares. 

the internet engorges its megabolism on misinformation and information alike 

paywalls or popularity contests? 

Scenes from Trillium Park

sally pt 1

september

sally turned into the driving lot of the gas station to fill up her car on a rainy morning. She was on her way to her boyfriend nathan's house, and he lived on the north of the province. she had 3 more hours of driving to go. 

it was quiet at the gas station. there was no one around, except a middle-aged man letting his dog out of his parked car for a stretch. the road was empty. this was a drastically different scene compared to the crowded city where sally drove out of, where cars were jammed bumper to bumper and people shoulder to shoulder. 

coming back to the present, sally idly imagined herself in third person, filling up her fiat 500, hunched over in the blue-grey haze. the rain was pouring down hard enough to drench a water-resistant jacket, which was what she had on. she thought about lighting a cigarette and enjoying the rain while the smoke dissipated around her like a bad headache. 

she looks forward to seeing nathan’s house glow warmly in the rain, especially as it gets darker. she associates nathan’s house with the smell of potpourri and casseroles. she remembers his visits to the city, holding hands at the museum, sharing sweet mornings in her bed, walking around downtown together. 

she savours the thrill of simultaneously being alone and seeing someone she cares about as she pulls up to his house. 

Hi, she says, shyly.
Hey! How was the drive? He looks at her intently, but with a big smile on his face. she withdraws gingerly from his embrace and looks around.
it was fine, just a lot of rain. i saw a guy with a dalmatian at the gas station. she smiles so nathan would interpret this as a good thing. he mumbles a vague invitation to come in, to make herself comfortable. she steps into his house and enjoys the familiar scent of potpourri and mushroom casserole. they head up to his room to unpack her stuff.

she spent her time at nathan’s poring over school and work-related stuff during the day and drinking glasses of red wine while eating casseroles at night. they read interesting things from twitter to each other and browse instagram individually when they need a break from talking.

sally leaves nathan’s house feeling a bit bored, but recharged enough to face the city.