buddhasavedme

- Write stories, all of the time, on my computer. Collections of short stories.
- Carry a notebook with me all of the time to write about interesting shit that's happening around me (especially at La Cheim).
- Try to get some of my writing published.
- Make people paintings and drawings regularly.
- Ace my classes this semester.
- Get my driver's license.
- Learn to play the guitar.
- Sing at open mic nights.

The not simple more long term but totally possible goals:

- Transfer to a University.
- Do undergrad, apply to grad school.
- Get my masters in Psychology.

You don't want to know, anyway. Trust it.

Later.

Funny how sometimes I journal as frequently as multiple times a day and others go a week without.

I guess sometimes I want to tell people things but you can't really call people up every few minutes to update them, haha...so I need to go to bed soon because I have class in 11 hours and want to get some coffee in the morning, and read a bit before I sleep.
I feel pretty good. Listening to music, in the tub, clean hair from the shower earlier...tonight's nice. It feels so nice to be re-engaging in the world of attraction and having little crushes, too...like this whole new side of me is emerging, a side of me that sometimes cares enough to imagine looking nice and use face lotion and daydream about connecting with a guy (or girl, but it's the first time I've felt attracted to men in quite a long time, or safe and unjaded enough to).
Tomorrow I have class in the morning, after which my Dad and I are going to go figure out the internet malfunctioning at my apartment...we haven't gotten around to it yet but tomorrow it's a definite. Then I guess come home for a bit if there's time, followed by Casa Serena. And on Tuesday I have therapy with Suzannah in the morning, then homework/rest, then Casa Serena, and afterwards Jennifer and I are meeting up with this girl from youtube who is also trying to recover from Bulimia in San Francisco! That's exciting. It will be nice to connect with Jennifer and finally meet Lauren, who seems spectacular. Both of them are taking off for awhile soon so I'll enjoy seeing them and chatting over coffee.

I am sort of tired. At the end of the day, it's a lot that I'm doing. Refreshing but tiring. 
  
 

There are some things I really hate about myself; for instance, I can be really obnoxious.
I guess the productive way to deal with this would be to practice silence and listening more.

Today was alright, I went to class which was fine, and my poor friend Madeleine had to leave early because she felt too sick. Then I came home, ate lunch, and took a nap. Then Casa Serena.

Came home,  took a bath, now it's time to get ready for bed and work on my essay a little and then sleep. Suzannah tomorrow. Usually I feel relieved when my therapy session comes around but I just feel sort of...ambivilent, I guess. Suzannah's a very good therapist and I generally always leave with something to think about but I just feel sad because there are so many goodbyes happening, and in a few weeks it'll be goodbye with her too, and there are some things therapy just can't do anything for. Some things I have to work out for myself by myself.

I've always wanted someone to help me and not "leave me", to sort of do things for me, and I think I'm finally having to let that go. It's painful growth, coming back to realizing again that I AM alone. I'm not alone in the sense that I don't have people who care about and love me, but we're all alone - in existentialism they call it "Isolation", coming to terms with the one-soul-per-body thing, you're born alone, you die alone. It's something I've always thought about and that has brought me a lot of pain...so if all I've got in the end is myself then I'd better make it so that I can stand myself, and to go a bit further and ENJOY my life, I've got to learn to like myself. I enjoy alone-time, refuel time, but in the end I've always looked to other people to make life worth living.

I'm starting to realize that's not effective for me.

(Do I ever talk in non-therapy terms?)

I went for a walk tonight in Berkeley after fellowshipping, and these mid-adolescents were taking up the entire sidewalk and despite seeing me made no motion to move to the side - and briefly I had this thought to put my cigarette out on the particularly annoying girl's forearm. But today these are passing thoughts, not lingering, and my fingers no longer twist the butt into the appropriate positioning until I realize what it is I'm doing. Kinda cool to notice some lessening in the insanity.
It's actually almost funny that my mind is capable of such violent fleeting thoughts, totally serious thoughts. 

Haha. Violent Sofia? Calm Sofia. It's like crossing the road between California and Nevada - what'sit gonna be?

Have therapy, then Casa Serena.

Wish I could sleep.

XLVIII - AE Housman

Be still, my soul, be still; the arms you bear are brittle,
  Earth and high heaven are fixt of old and founded strong.
Think rather, -- call to thought, if now you grieve a little,
  The days when we had rest, O soul, for they were long.
 
Men loved unkindness then, but lightless in the quarry
  I slept and saw not; tears fell down, I did not mourn;
Sweat ran and blood sprang out and I was never sorry:
  Then it was well with me, in days ere I was born.
 
Now, and I muse for why and never find the reason,
  I pace the earth, and drink the air, and feel the sun.
Be still, be still, my soul; it is but for a season:
  Let us endure an hour and see injustice done.
 
Ay, look: high heaven and earth ail from the prime foundation;
  All thoughts to rive the heart are here, and all are vain:
Horror and scorn and hate and fear and indignation --
  Oh why did I awake?  when shall I sleep again?

XLIV - AE Housman

Shot? so quick, so clean an ending?
  Oh that was right, lad, that was brave:
Yours was not an ill for mending,
  'Twas best to take it to the grave.
 
Oh you had forethought, you could reason,
  And saw your road and where it led,
And early wise and brave in season
  Put the pistol to your head.
 
Oh soon, and better so than later
  After long disgrace and scorn,
You shot dead the household traitor,
  The soul that should not have been born.
 
Right you guessed the rising morrow
  And scorned to tread the mire you must:
Dust's your wages, son of sorrow,
  But men may come to worse than dust.
 
Souls undone, undoing others, --
  Long time since the tale began.
You would not live to wrong your brothers:
  Oh lad, you died as fits a man.
 
Now to your grave shall friend and stranger
  With ruth and some with envy come:
Undishonoured, clear of danger,
  Clean of guilt, pass hence and home.
 
Turn safe to rest, no dreams, no waking;
  And here, man, here's the wreath I've made:
'Tis not a gift that's worth the taking,
  But wear it and it will not fade.

Stars, I have seen them fall
but when they drop and die
no star is lost at all
from all the star-sown sky.
The toil of all that be
Helps not the primal fault;
It rains into the sea,
and still the sea is salt.