journal

24 February, 2019

11:25

i’m not in school for the third time in my life. big deal, i should be used to it by now.

but i’ve had all the time i need to dissect my behavior for the past few years, past jobs, friendships, relationships.

i am becoming hyperaware of what i do to spend my time, and i am in full panic mode because i don’t feel progress. like SHIT!! i’m supposed to be doing a lot MORE!

i have two journals open in front of me, a magazine published in 2016, the cranberries playing in the background, a cup of now-cold tea next to me.

it gets scary when the things that comforted me doesn’t do the job it’s expected to do anymore.

but yesterday, i had a sudden urge to dig up this one song that i used to play on one of those apps that lets you download music for free. it reminded me of my usual path home, when i used to secretly smoke. it was raining. it was june.

i’m frantically searching for ways to feel sane. and i feel like i’m overlooking what i need to be looking for.

i always expect something for myself and maybe that’s whats so damaging.

i want to be the home i go back to for myself. i want to be able to comfort myself. i don’t want to be so mean to myself. i don’t want to think that this is a piece of shit writing because this is real and everything i feel. i don’t want to feel like i have to prove something to someone. i want to be doing me and being proud of it. i don’t want to feel like i have to adjust for others. i want to be friends with myself again because i haven’t been in a very long time. i’ve lost that connection over the course of this past couple of years. or maybe we weren’t friends in the first place.

i have a terrible relationship with myself.

i’m never honest with who i am. i shape-shift to fit in with others. i’ve done it for such a long time that i forgot how to even let myself be authentic in front of me.

there’s a constant mask.

there’s always a way that i’m supposed to be doing something.

being authentic was a lot of work because i felt i had to compromise with other people. i never learned how to be honest unapologetically because i was afraid of hurting someone in the process, when the sacrifice in that was myself.

now, according to my culture, i’m expected to be considerate of others. but its come to the point where i’m cutting off parts of myself where it doesn’t fit into this mold i’m expected to be in.

i’ve been in environments where this is encouraged, and i seemed to fight it with every cell in my being. however, ironically, it has seemed to become a default mindset somewhere along the way.

somehow, i’m trying to find every way in order for me to be a little closer to what i want others to see me as, killing bits of myself in the process.

perhaps the reason why i look to myself in 2017 is because thats when i thought i was the most authentic to myself.

i’m sick of how saturated media is, and how i still feed off of it. when was the last time my thoughts and desires weren’t controlled by pixels? i learned to identify with what the world seems to think. “i’m opinionated, i know what to think.”

signing off

14:39

tokyo glimmer

i’d been neglecting my point and shoot after it’d stopped working. the roll was in the camera for a good half a year, until i finally checked the task off my list and took it to a shop in vienna. the film was jammed.

i developed the roll, which had broken into two pieces. what i got back were familiar sceneries glossed over in an unfamiliar hue.

over the past few months, the months the film has lived in my camera, it almost feels like i had grown to be a different person within the same body. i didn’t even know id be living in vienna in half a year. i had held value in different things than i do now, and my vision is skewed in a different way than it was.

maybe it was just how they developed it. maybe it was the film itself. but i no longer saw the same things i saw, and i no longer feel the same things i felt in summer. we see the same things but we get something different out of it. i don’t know how she saw these moments. i recognize them, but i don’t feel the way she felt anymore.

who i was feels like a distant friend.

the very reason i began shooting film was documentation. it derived from the fear of time passing.

someone had pointed out that i am obsessed with my past. everything that i saw, everything that i felt. i wanted a piece of those sensations in a tangible form to remember. i don’t allow it to slip away like it’s supposed to.

i thought that holding onto these fragments of time had allowed me to relive what i felt. maybe i’ve recognized this habit of mine that i’d lived with for a long time, and now it’s letting itself go before i can allow it to.

i’d felt relived coming here. i’d been comforted by the new atmosphere.

this bit of tokyo was a face i’d never seen before.

 
 
000003970001.jpg
 
 
 
000003970002.jpg
 
 
 
 
000003970004.jpg
 
 
 
000003970005.jpg
 
 
 
 
000003970008.jpg
 
 
 
 
 
000003970011.jpg
 
000003970012.jpg
 
 
 
 
000003970013.jpg
 
 
000003970014.jpg
 
 
000003970016.jpg
 
000003970020.jpg
 
 
 
000003970018.jpg
000003970019.jpg
 
 
 
 
000003970021.jpg
 
 
 
000003970024.jpg
 
000003970026.jpg
 
 
000003970027.jpg
 
 
 

JAN '19 thru my camera roll

i

turned off cellular data for instagram, deleted twitter off of my phone, carried around The Handmaid’s Tale everywhere.

despite the lack of sunlight, train rides are a lot less depressing than what im used to.

there is less order, compared to what i know. i

talked about my vivid dreams via text. i

realized ive developed some kind of trust issue.

a new language is inhabiting my brain, and i

realized that i was in the process of developing a new personality. i

didnt see a familiar face in the mirror, and liked her better. i

dug up my mind. im now coming to terms with what ive found. i

watched a lot of gilmore girls.

 
 
 
 
 
IMG_0291.jpg
 
 
 
IMG_0358.PNG
 
 
 
IMG_0372.jpeg
 
 
 
568037972.309637.JPG
 
IMG_0374.jpeg
 
 
 
 
IMG_0468.JPG
IMG_0471.JPG
 
 
 
IMG_0489.jpeg
IMG_0492.jpeg
IMG_0493.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_0494.jpeg
IMG_0495.jpeg
 
 
 
 
IMG_0587.jpeg
 
 
IMG_0661.jpeg
 
 
IMG_0774.jpg
IMG_0783.jpeg
 
IMG_0787.jpeg
IMG_0798.jpeg
 
 
IMG_0909.jpg
IMG_0927.jpg
IMG_0931.jpg
 
 
IMG_0967.jpeg
IMG_0977.jpeg
 
IMG_1014.jpeg
IMG_1053.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_1072.PNG
 
 
 
IMG_1256.jpeg
IMG_1344.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_1476.jpeg
IMG_1351.PNG
 
IMG_1487.jpeg
IMG_1491.jpg
 
 
 
IMG_1510.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_1589.jpg
 
IMG_1554.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_1612.JPG
IMG_1613.JPG
 
 
 
 
IMG_1756.jpg
 
 
 
IMG_1759.PNG
 
 
 
 
IMG_1797.jpeg
 
 
 
IMG_1873.JPG
IMG_1891.PNG
 
 
IMG_1893.jpeg
IMG_1894.jpeg
 
 
IMG_1942.jpg
IMG_1998.jpeg
 
 
IMG_2035.jpeg
IMG_2043.jpg
IMG_2048.jpeg
IMG_2062.jpg
 

vienna

123118.png

im used to goodbyes at the airport; this time, im the one leaving my home.

im finally away from everything i have subconsciously consumed myself into.

as soon as i enter the gate, i feel chains on my feet. everything drains out on me all at once. i cant smile.

ive been trying so hard to make myself understand that this is going to become my reality.

ive been trying to make myself feel the pain i thought i had deserved to feel.

i feared it multiplying in intensity, only to haunt me later on. better to get it over with, right?

id been searching for the pain that didnt need to exist in the first place.

sitting in my new room, a strange space, i felt familiar thoughts rush into my brain, translating into ink on paper.

these thoughts are what i find true value in.

id been unable to access it through the thick smoke of inauthenticity and dishonesty i had unknowingly accumulated throughout my life in structure, control.

this was me realizing the fear i had of pain.

i stepped out of the airport.

the first air i breathed,

first thing i smelled,

were perfume and cigarettes.