The words are hammering in my chest. They need to get out. But I don't know what they are.

They say the most valuable of friends are those with whom you could pick up the strands of your last goodbye and carry anew. I've always hated the repetitiveness of that sentiment, and almost came to resent it time and time. Attention starved as I was, why could friends not be a stable, permanent presence instead of spaces punctuated by silence until the next opportunity arose?

But the silence was created by myself as much as our circumstances. When the time came to pick up the strands of our last goodbye, we tripped on them and on ropes of misunderstandings. I've had my biggest and first fight with one of my closest friends for the first time in a decade, and it left me reeling for days. It left me wounded and resentful and childishly hollow.

And then things were mended, and we carried on because we were old friends who understood one another best. We sniffed and sighed and I looked back on the incident as a small hiccup in a bigger friendship.

I'm the first to admit my selfishness in wanting my loved to stay still in time around me, for me, as I raced outside and out there. I wished so fervently for it even as my world changed too fast around me, leaving me the one standing still. Leaving me the one stagnant. In times like these, I've only wanted to curl up and hide and wait for the world to forget about me completely. If I couldn't race along it, I wanted no part of it.

I need a new path to race along and I need stronger legs to do it. I need my wings unfurled once more.

2013 is the year of losing friends.

That's not quite right. This is the year of letting go. I know I've been harping on and off about people and particular situations that have been making me miserable, but I've never felt so positive about letting go before. It's not without any pain. It hurts to see things you've worked harder to nurture evaporate, and every loss is like a slap in the face.

But no pain, no gain, right? "With every slap, a lesson."

The only thing I'm peeved about is how mad I am at myself. I'm angry with myself for investing so much of my emotional energy into people who were never worth it. I'm saddened at all the time I wasted. I'n devastated because I never learn. And yet, I'm trying really hard to take this as a lesson in figuring out how to deal with people in the future. On the other hand, those who are worth it are the friends I've kept throughout the year. You can't win them all.

Sometimes we need certain people to walk into and out of our life for a certain purpose.

1. Joseph - Julian Rathbone

2. Madame de Pompadour: Mistress of France

3. The Masqueraders

4. The Blade Itself - Joe Abercombie

5. Walden and Civil Disobedience - Henry David Thoreau

6. The Chrysanthemum and the Sword - Ruth Benedict (1946 edition - vintage)

7. Authors in Context - Charles Dickens - Andrew Sanders

8. The English Novel - Walter Allen

9. Nature and Selected Essays - Ralph Waldo Emerson

10. Confessions of St Augustine.

11. A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland - Samuel Johnson

12. Ports of Call - Amin Maalouf

13. Modern Social Imaginaries - Charles Taylor

14. Sophocles (Antigone, Oedipus Rex, etc)

15. The Prize: The Epic Quest for Oil, Money & Power - Daniel Yergin

16. The Emerging Lesbian: Female Same-Sex Desire in Modern China (Worlds of Desire: The Chicago Series on Sexuality, Gender, and Culture) - Tze Lan D Sang

17. The Sorrows of Young Werther - Goethe

18. Ruth Hall and Other Writings by Fanny Fern

19. The Poems of Charlotte Smith

20. Bodies in Code - Mark b. n. Hansen

21. Robinson Crusoe

22. The Queen's Necklace: Marie Antoinette and the Scandal that Shocked and Mystified France - Frances Mossiker

23. The Folding Star - Allan Hollinghurst

24. Gone with the Wind. 1937 edition.

25. Exiles - Melanie Rawn

26. Gundam Seed Light Novels.

27. A Wild Haruki Chase

28. 501 Japanese Verbs

29. Aurora Leigh - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

30. Venus in Boston - George Thompson

Look at me, being late to my own birthday. I've always posted the day of, but I've been out having a good time today, and almost completely distracted from the internet.

I feel very loved and it's something I'm grateful for. The birthday wishes really touched my heart this year, and most of all my parents calling me even though they were extremely exhausted and sick from their trip. It almost made me cry.

I'm just really happy. I hope it lasts for a long time.

It's been a while (YEARS) since I've sent Christmas cards, and I'm in the mood to send stuff this year. Please leave me your preferred mailing address if you're interested!

I had the pleasure of going to see "Safety Not Guaranteed" while it was playing at the indie theatre down the street. It's a film where three oddball journalists investigate an ad asking for a time traveling partner, placed by an even odder man. It's also a beautiful film about nostalgia, and those wishing to return to a happier time.

It opens with the main character searching her memory for the last time she was truly happy. How the past must be better than what we currently have is a running theme throughout the movie. For the past two years or so, I kept going back in my mind to a time when I was happier than this. I even lingered at the dangerous notion of not being able to be happy anymore, and how the past was as good as it got. I don't think I feel that way as intensely anymore, but the longing remains.

It's funny how I desperately want to go back to 1998 and 2008, before it all fell apart for me.

Then again, the whole point of the film, and something that I didn't a movie to point out to me, really, is that there will never an ideal time to be happy. Lost chances and made mistakes are to be learned from, not sorely regretted. Something better is bound to come along and turn my life differently. I'm almost afraid to go back and check my old journal entries from those time, but perhaps a little bit of grounding might anchor me, after all.

Sometime last year, I picked up Terry Pratchett's Nation, out of loyalty than anything else. It wasn't until last summer that I had the chance to read it properly during a family visit. Perusing the book was such a relaxing, delightful experience. It's not often that I get to read fiction that is simply "feel good", so Nation was a pleasant change.

polyserena summed its beauty best in how it is a story of two people who are purely willing to believe in the good in each other. This is something I struggle with on a daily basis. Fortune Telling or Mind Reading is a cognitive dissonance where we--sometimes incorrectly--anticipate the worst possible outcome or reaction to a situation of others. The schema we're trapped in is built on a series of experiences that muddle our healthy reasoning with unrealistic, exaggerated fears. Sometimes, it's like being trapped in an un-ebbing tidal wave.

I'm seeing my dear friends next week, and I'm already harboring illogical fears of them not liking me anymore or not wanting to spend time with me. These fears are unfair to myself and to them, and I wish it was easy to snap out of that mentality.

At the end of a trip to New York last month, I managed to get a cab to the airport from an area where cabs don't usually travel to the airport from, so I was pretty relieved once I settled inside, agreeing to whatever price the driver set for me once I climbed in. Once we neared the airport, I tried to confirm the rate with the driver (a habit of mine in any taxi, regardless of an existing meter or not. In my experience, some cab drivers neglect to add the tax until after I've gotten the money out). This action had really set my driver out. "We've already agreed on a far, weren't you paying attention? Or you just don't have the money for the fare, is that it?" I didn't get the chance to explain that I was just getting the money ready.

Once we pulled over at the curb outside my terminal, I asked the driver this time whether he had a change for a twenty. This time he erupted. He started yelling, agitated, reminding me what the original fare was, how I was wasting his time, and why did I get in his cab to begin with if I only had a twenty to pay him with (which was roughly half the fare). Once he'd quieted down, I explained that I wanted to half the bill so I could tip him.

My driver went very quiet, looking down, before muttering a thank you and wishing me a safe trip. I admit I was upset for all of five minutes at being yelled at, but I soon forgot about the whole trip. I was just relieved to have arrived at the airport with time to spare. He must have been having a bad day.

A few days ago, I was going over this particular cognitive dissonance when I remembered the story. It just popped into my head out of the blue. I don't want to be the cab driver anymore. I don't want my mind to be prey to these thoughts anymore. I feel like if I let go, I could be so much happier than I am right now. I want to believe the best of people, and just shrug that weight off my shoulder.

Because no one deserves to be judged based on feelings rather than actions.

This entry serves no purpose other than to announce having a new layout.

Thanks to litwick for her tremendous help with it. ❤

I took a long cut on my way to the vista this afternoon. I normally cross the hill on foot, and turn to head down to do my errands. It's a long walk I dread.

This time I decided to take the bridge, earphones plugged in and my shopping basket swinging. Most of the pedestrian paths were blocked for an event, so I had to take one detour after another, until I ended up in a trailer jungle of twenty trucks or so, all emblazoned with the WWE logo.

Apparently, there was a pro wrestling event in town that I hadn't even heard about, and somehow I had walked casually right into the midst of it. Fifteen years ago I was one of the young enthusiastic fans lining up excitedly outside the stadium, waiting to get my first glimpse of the arena.

The road from there twisted once, then twice, until I ended up by the river, separated from the banks by the thick trees. A fire hydrant had exploded in the distance, flooding the sloping road in strips of splashing light. It was all so removed from everything else that it was hard to believe the blocks and clusters of restaurants and busier life were just a couple of hundred yards away.

There should be a lesson or a reflection here, somewhere. I was just glad for the unexpected peace.

I've been making somewhat brief, if vague, entries in my journal with the thoughts and feelings I've been taking away from my therapy sessions. I haven't done that in a while, but I thought pouring some introspection might help in the long run. I'm already feeling better, but I'd like to maintain this sense of feeling better for longer than a few days.

I used to joke about my brain running firmly on analogies, but I find in this case analogies have been serving me well, so I'm going to use a couple of them to describe the most dominant mindsets I have.

My feelings of resentment, anger, and frustration are akin to standing in a corner, facing the wall. I'm caged in and unable to move forward, and yet I can't turn around because of the weight of all the people behind me I feel are blocking me. I can't step back to see the bigger picture, and that I can actually move beyond this. Once I've been able to distinguish between my thoughts and my feelings, it was somewhat liberating. My feelings aren't necessary true, even as they fuel my thoughts, so to speak.

I like to think of depression as being under this thick, suffocating blanket. I'm able to see with some difficulty, and hear with some constraint, but the constant presence of this blanket makes everything so much harder to do. I don't feel the sun on me, and I can't enjoy all the things I used to be able to previously. When I remember happier days, they're days without the blanket and without this cellophane wrapping over my brain. I need to know and believe I can get from under it. I would like to feel the air on my skin once more, and more than that, I fervently want to move without this weight on me.

Dealing with other people while like this is another beast entirely, but I need to focus on myself first.

An online friend I haven't talked to in a few years just updated his journal recently. We've known each other for ten years now, even though we're no longer in touch, more or less. I've come to accept that with online friendships (and some RL ones) that drifting away may come with more ease and before we know it.

It was a tragic, heart breaking entry, as well, and one that I won't go into out of respect for his situation. It's also made me hesitate to comment. I'm sympathetic, but I don't have the words for this particular situation, and I feel rude and intrusive as we haven't talked in a very long time. Even before drifting apart we weren't particularly close, as far as online friendships go.

It made me pause and think about plenty of friendships or pseudo-friendships I've had over the past few years, especially those made over RP (as he had been someone I RPed with extensively in the past). I had joined the livejournal RP community back in 2007, and had met a plethora of people, a couple of whom are my closest friends to this day. And yet, today and in this time, I no longer speak to the majority of these people, and it doesn't really pain me that I don't.

It's not really the loss of these fleeting friendships that I mourn, but rather it is myself I'm looking at critically, and the person I used to be during these times. I remember the good moments along with anger, frustration, and self doubt. Now that I've stepped away from these days I'm dismayed at the effort and earnestness I had spent pleasing people who hadn't really cared about me beyond text on a computer screen. I remember all these appreciation memes where people I adored would heap their feelings, and then add with some embarrassment that I wasn't among those they were talking about. It such a childish and petty thing to harp on, but I realize I had been in a place where none of these people actually cared about me.

And what pains me is that none of these were actual friendships save for a few exceptions. People never liked me beyond being "sweet and nice".

I was trimming my plurk list, removing the last few people belonging to that circle when it hit me really hard. I'm mad at myself for investing so much of my heart and energy into these fleeting things.

I was recently told "You're nice to everyone. When are you going to be nice to yourself?" I wish I had invested in being nice to myself back then.

I'm in the process of moving, and so clearing out some of my Gundam 00 doujinshi. I'm offering everything for a reduced price, so please take a look!

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This is long due, but it's part of my New Year Resolution (hello, April...) to let go of some people and things from the past. If you feel you should be kept on my list, please let me know! I mainly removed those who have abandoned their journals for good, or those who have converted their accounts into private journals (since staying on their friends list is not very productive for me).

Classic shoujo manga sale post.

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Two days ago I started packing my life into boxes.

Watching the clutter gather behind me, I was starting to feel trapped. There was and is too much to take into account even if most of it was in all the physical things I collected. It wasn't until I checked the shoe box of cards and stubs that some of the clarity I was seeking came back.

I had meant to go to bed early tonight; instead I unearthed tens or even a hundred card with a bewildered sense of amazement. There are so many people who have filtered into and out of my life in the years I've lived here by myself. Some of these friendships have remained solid, and others I'm straining to maintain. I wondered what happened to love at the small papery mountain of love letters that I had never answered because I was incapable of writing about anything or anyone but myself, so I never did.

Sometimes I like to delude myself into thinking that happiness is only a few years behind me instead of me, until the memories kept in this box remind me that until a few years ago I used to be dreadfully lonely. It took these webs of friendships, spidery thin and insistently clingy to bring me out of my fears and reluctance. It's time to stop longing for a past I fancied out of nothing, since it's only holding me back.

I've fallen off the wagon of whatever I was wagoning. Oops.

I'm blaming all the preparations for Katsucon, work, and preparing for my mom''s visit. In the meantime, have a list of what I've managed to watch for the first time this year.

-The Road to El Dorado (don't laugh. Although I did need that).

-Europa, Europa. A mesmerizing WWII movie rife with magical realism, if you could apply that adjective to war movies. The lead had that much ingenue to him.

-Schindler's List. Again, something I haven't been able to watch for many years and for quite a ridiculous reason. I wonder if the film is still censored back home.

-Lust, Caution. The opposite of a "feel good" movie. I haven't been upset by a film before to the extent of selling it back, but Ang Lee's cinematography is breathtaking, nevertheless.

-The Artist. Utterly charming, if formulaic and predictable. The plot is familiar and comfortable if you're a fan of old Hollywood and black and white movies to begin with.

-Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy. Very atmospheric, if dizzying in its quick narrative. it's the acting and editing that really makes this one, rather than the plot, compacted as it is.

-Sherlock Holmes II. I went to see it with the boys, and got exactly what I expected. It was a bit underwhelming.