Previously posted elsewhere:

I just cried in hysterics. I had one of those "oh shit" -- something-hit-you kinda cry's. The first of my closest friends (there are four of us) left about twenty minutes. As soon as I got in my room, I started to cry. I have a year of college under my belt... and I am not going to see her for four months, or the other two. It's funny how close I am to them- I didn't cry at my Baccalaureate. I didn't cry at my Graduation. I wasn't too fussed about leaving my high school... I don't really make a huge effort to stay in contact with my friends from back home. But, the ones I have made up here, for the short time I have known them, I feel like I have known them more than any other person, aside from my family, in my life. I'm going to miss my shitty little room. I am going to miss my shitty roommate. I am going to miss my shitty Latin class. I am going to miss those shitty bagels I would get in the morning with the shitty drip coffee. It's so hard to not cry again... but I feel it rising. The odd thing is, I kind of like feeling like this. I think I have finally figured out what it feels like to have friends who act like friends, and not just say they are. I don't want these four years to end.

Going home is bittersweet.
More bitter than sweet.

Hej hej,
Any

This needn't a title.

I have finally witnessed the pain of falling out of love. It was brief. It was concise. It was... sad. I wasn't directly involved, but just sitting behind this relationship that was breaking even hurt my heart.

I thought I would share that.


Hej hej,
Any

Bulletproof

It's been a tough month. Rowing season is finally over- which means that I can have a life between 6-10PM every night, if I choose so.

But, this also means a lot of other things.
I can spend more time on my homework.
I can spend more time to read things for leisure.
I can spend more time working to have mo' money.
I can spend more time writing. I can actually have time to write.
I can spend more time guest-starring on a radio show.
I can spend more time taking photo's.
I can spend more time finding new music.

Oh, those 4 precious hours available to me, now! I really never realized how much of a difference in my life that it'd make, until I got it back. It got old very quick when I had to constantly reiterate, "I can't- I have crew," numerous times, daily, whenever being invited to exciting adventures.

Though crew introduced me to many people, who have turned to be my closest friends here on campus, it also limited me so much on what I could have done this year. It also proved that I'm addicted to being an athlete. If I hadn't of done crew this year, I'd be 50 pounds heavier, grumpier, swimming in a sea of used CDs and gig-stubs. I'd may have gotten into drugs. Even more spoiled rotten with my drinks of choice. I may have hosted my own radio show. I may have volunteered a little more.

But, I can't really say what would have happened. Because, it did not. Crew happened. And it was the best damned choice I could have made for my freshman year. It's the cheesiest thing to think about- a high school jock, staying a jock in college...

But, I did start to think... I can't keep this schedule forever. It's inconvenient- it limits the things I can do. I can't be as committed as I would like to be (as much as it pains me), but there are going to be opportunities I am going to be facing, and there is no way that I can let them pass me by.

Good grief. I am beginning to sound like a broken record. Please, just allow me to end right here.

Hej hej,

Any

I love trendy couples.

So trendy together, it hurts. It hurts to the core.
You just look at them and ask, "How can two people have so much style? Do they do it for themselves? Each other? Is that what brought them together? Is that what will set them apart?"

Oh, trendy couples. Watch out. Fashion evolves.
As do relationships.

Hej hej,

Any

On the issue of issues.

Who do we want to take care of?
Who ought to take care of issues?

Well, we generally point the finger at the government officials. After all, we (the ones actually eligible to vote) are the ones who appointed them, and they should take care of our troubles that surround our everyday lives and communities, right? I mean, we are getting taxed so far up the ass, and they get paid with that money, they might as well resolve our problems, yes?

No.
Absolutely not.
Do you understand how selfish that sounds? Incredibly! The government is made, it's purpose is a skeletal structure to help maintain order in a society. But, as the years of America (actually, the worlds) development, this above mentality has set in. The government is responsible to help our troubles with dying industries, failing banks, warfare... and the responsibilities go on and on. But, at what level has the government recently taken steps to help the poor? The government has taken very generous steps towards helping prevent even more people to reach into the poverty level, but they weren't there giving a helping hand during even our strongest hour. Is the government the most effective source of dealing with poverty? It makes sense on the surface- they control the cash-flow, they make the rules. But they lack one thing- a primary connection with these people. Most government officials don't make the time to meet with these people in need. They simply chose to have the power to pass or decline propositions or laws that benefit or weaken those in poverty. And we, those not wedged into this class, simply chose to leave this responsibility to the government only because it allows us to sit back and not have to deal with the reality the existence of impoverished people.

Come on, America. I really feel that this whole economic slump just may reset all of our lifestyles... for the better.

Hej hej,

Any

Now, I know I'm not alone in here.

Is karma getting to me? Is all of that negative smack I have been saying coming around to me? Cracked heel, springing pain in my left leg, my phone does not allow me to make calls because it does not recognize that the chip is in... I can't seem to concentrate on any one thing anymore, because there is so much to do that I don't know what to do first. And I feel like I am lettering others down. It's depressing, really.

Hej hej,

Any

Vae Victis

Originally uploaded by Any Syler

Woe to the defeated.

I am in a funk. A major, deep funk, and last night, it finally hit me. I allowed myself to cry some of it out, as I did not want those tears to poison me any longer. I talked about it with good friends, as I did not want those thoughts to hammer my skull open. I went to sleep, as I did not want those feelings to take over my senses.

And now, today, it is a new day. I have been given another chance to live another day, which I can create or destroy.

I know this is going to be really ridiculous, but I took a little Facebook quiz before I drifted off to sleep last night. It was titled, "What punctuation mark are you?"

The result:

...

You are an ellipsis. Often misunderstood, you mean well. You are always trying to take care of others, often to the neglect of yourself. You are beautiful, and mysterious, and somewhat aloof, afraid to commit.

I never thought of an ellipsis that way before. It may be because I use it so frequently in my posts. I usually find them better to use when I need to pause and stop to think of something to continue. A dash is too harsh. But, and ellipsis... it's soft and velvety, a much smoother transition into words, whereas a dash, I find that pause too abrupt, and used when you are trying to prove a point almost too fast.

I think I need to write more. I realized that I get in more super crazy ruts if I don't write for a while. When was the last time I truly 'blogged' about what was on my mind? (I am sure you don't give a darn about what I have to say at this moment)

Do you crack your knuckles?
I can't bring myself to do it that often. My ankles and knees seems to snap, crackle and pop on their own. As for my fingers, I can never bring myself to doing it. It just sounds disgusting, looks disturbing... and then there is the myth my mom told me: "Stop, or your fingers will end up looking like a man's when you grow up."

Ha. It worked, mom. I would say my hands are pretty small for a mighty tall girl. I don't have piano fingers... ah, but as I observe those two hands in front of my eyes, I am seeing the beauty if imperfection. The fingers on my right hand are straighter then my left hand. I would associate the slight outward curve of the top digit of my middle finger in my left hand due to the years of pressure added onto it from my pencil. Ah, and the thin layer of graphite that would rub off the paper and onto the side of my left palm and pinky finger... it was especially hard to not have my left hand dripping with India Ink at the end of art class.



Enough of hands.

I need to get some things covered today. And I fear that it will be a long one.



Hej hej,

Any