Heart-Strutter.org

Tu llegaste justo cuando menos te esperaba
Y te fuiste sin decirme ni siquiera adios
Me di cuenta que sin ti no podria ser yo nadie
Si me faltas tu mi amor para que vivir

Que te pasa corazon
Que cosas tiene el amor
Yo no quise enamorarme
Sorpresivamente asi
Ahora debes perdonarme
Por mi amor que eres tu

Bendigo la hora en que te conoci
Maldigo el momento en que te vi partir

I’m so tired of wasting time consuming memories by experiencing the happiness of focusing on memories instead of focusing on the happiness of experiencing. (Yes… I watched Daniel Kahneman: The riddle of experience vs. memory on TED.com)

I miss philosophy lectures. I miss my favorite professors. I miss thinking about obscure non-factual subject material. I miss you most of all.

Ugh.

Haven’t seen most of my friends in about 3 weeks. And strangely I don’t mind. I’ve been really quite focused on work. Yeah, that place that brings me misery during the day, but gives my life some kind of … meaning or something. How pathetic. But I guess when you get calls waking you up at 3am and text messages at 9pm that are all work-related … you don’t really have a choice but to make work the most meaningful thing in your life. I feel so resigned that I don’t even mind to a certain extent.

But it also makes life feel quite boring.

And that is the most sad thing of all. Life isn’t boring. At least I hope not.

I’m going to a Nightwish concert tomorrow night just for the hell of it. I haven’t seen them in a while. I haven’t even heard any new material from them in a very long time (since the last time I saw Nightwish in concert). And for the “new” singer to sing the songs the original singer created feels like a betrayal. OG > “New” Singer.

Once again I’ve been focusing on the interior design of my apartment. I really quite love the way I moved everything. Now it’s just about perfect. And fuck… I wonder why I’m vitamin-D deficient. I go to work before there’s any sun, and drive in the sunlight for 20 minutes when I get off work and… then seclude myself in my apartment the rest of the evening. Never thought I’d have to literally go tanning or something… just to get a dose of sunlight. I’m even driving with my sunroof opened so my skin can absorb some goddamn vitamins.

At this point my blog entries can all just end in a resounding SIGH.

Tu llegaste justo cuando menos te esperaba Y te fuiste sin decirme ni siquiera adios Me di cuenta que sin ti no podria ser yo nadie Si me faltas tu mi amor para que vivir Que te pasa corazon Que cosas tiene el amor Yo no quise enamorarme Sorpresivamente asi Ahora debes perdonarme Por mi amor que eres tu Bendigo la hora en que ...

There’s no such thing as a one-night stand with you. It can never be just once. Before the first night is over you’ve already asked me to come back and see you, and then another time and another and before we both know it you and I are seeing each other once a week, if not more. Figure me out. And once you do, there will be no need for us to ever see one another. The diagnosis is clear: we’re just not cut out to see each other. Until you want to see me again.

I’m romanticizing doctor’s appointments.

Currently: my white blood cell count is too high, my red blood cells are “falling” at a too-fast rate, and I’m Vitamin-D deficient by a landslide. It’s interesting to know that each and every one of these tests mention immune system and inflammation problems. My results speak for what’s going on with my body physically and outwardly. There’s this substantial proof that physically something is wrong with me. I’m not just making it up, but I am honestly having some kind of reaction.

Additionally I need to get an ultrasound, my testosterone levels are above normal, and I’m now taking Meloxicam for rheumatoid arthritis (if in case that’s what’s going on with me right now).  I also discovered I’m allergic to dust mites and shrimp, of all things. Luckily I don’t favor seafood so I have not eaten shrimp in years.

Ugh, my joints are itchy and swelling up right now. It didn’t happen at all in the morning yesterday for the first time. This morning the joint swelling was minimal and now it’s back albeit much calmer than previous times. Currently I’m obsessing over my lab results. When I went to see my primary physician we ran labs that required 9 tubes of blood and when I saw the rheumatologist the labs required 10 tubes of blood. We’re moving up the ladder here…

I see an allergist on Monday with a 3rd doctor just so we can explore all options. And then following that I get an ultra sound. Splendid.

Mean time I’m sort of stressed over taxes. And applying a steroidal cream for the itchiness. Life is currently at a standstill. I just want to figure this thing out and move on. But ever-so-not-secretly … I know I want to get diagnosed with something. Difficult to explain. But let’s fix this, come on already. :\

There's no such thing as a one-night stand with you. It can never be just once. Before the first night is over you've already asked me to come back and see you, and then another time and another and before we both know it you and I are seeing each other once a week, ...

I keep meaning to read more but I find it so difficult to concentrate these days. At any given time I must be doing a minimum of at least 2 things so that I don’t feel restless or bored. But not bored exactly. I don’t quite know how to put it but it’s as though I am not occupying enough of my time unless I do more than one thing. Maybe it’s because of all the multi-tasking I’m forced to do at work. Sigh. Work. That’s one thing I am definitely third of complaining about. If only I would just do something about it already.

Wgile I have been spending time with friends I am perfectly content just coming home to my apartment. I’ve been pretty tired lately and dealing with some weird bodily reaction. Red itchy hands, knuckles, knees, etc. I have an appt with the rheumatologist on Tuesday. Rheumatoid arthritis matches my symptoms though they don’t mention itchiness… And that’s one of my major symptoms. Ugh I’m worried but at the same time just want to figure out what the heck is wrong with my body right now and get it taken care of already.

This year I feel strictly committed to not letting work take up so much of my time. This is a job I have 0 invested in, there’s no need to put in more than 100% of my energy like this last year

Anyway… Sigh sigh sigh. I’m going to sleep (instead of trying to read). I work tomorrow.

I kind of wish I knew how to express my current state of mind… Malcontent?

I keep meaning to read more but I find it so difficult to concentrate these days. At any given time I must be doing a minimum of at least 2 things so that I don't feel restless or bored. But not bored exactly. I don't quite know how to put it but it's as ...

I realized the other day I liked him because he’s the only person that has never bored me. No matter how much I learned about him, there was always more to know, more to learn, more to inspire me. Every other guy bores me. A guy could be the most handsome man on the planet but if he doesn’t interest me, there’s no point. I can’t wait for someone to interest me again. When? I feel anxious just thinking that it’s never going to happen again.

Click? No. We do not click.

You know we don’t have one thing in common. We don’t click in any way. We don’t have chemistry or banter or common interests. You’re a yoga instructor, you get colonics, you don’t appreciate the chaos and absurdity of life on this planet and in this city, you don’t understand irony or eccentricity or poetry or the simple joy of being a regular at your diner on your block – I love that. You don’t drink coffee or alcohol, you don’t overeat or cry when you’re alone, you don’t understand sarcasm, you plod through life in a neat, colourless caffeine free dairy free conflict free banal self-possessed way. I’m bold and angry and tortured and tremendous and I notice when somebody has changed their hair parting or when somebody is wearing two distinctly different shades of black or when someone changes the natural timbre of their voice on the phone. I don’t give out empty praise, I’m not complacent or well-adjusted. I can’t spend 50 minutes breathing and stretching and getting in touch with myself, I can’t even spend three minutes finishing an article. I check my phone machine nine times a day because I feel there’s so much to do and fix and change in the world and I wonder every day if I’m making a difference and if I will ever express greatness or if I will remain forever paralysed by muddled madness inside my head. I’ve wept on every birthday I ever had because life is huge and fleeting and I hate certain people and certain shoes and I feel that life is terribly unfair and sometimes beautiful and wonderful and extraordinary and also numbing and horrifying and insurmountable and I hate myself a lot of the time but the rest of the time I adore myself. I adore my life in this city, in this world that we live in, in this huge and wondrous bewildering brilliant horrible world.

(Pause)
In these ways I feel that we do not click.

 – Kissing Jessica Stein

Truth be told, I could just BOLD most of that quote, it’s so great, so applicable. And I love that movie.

I realized the other day I liked him because he's the only person that has never bored me. No matter how much I learned about him, there was always more to know, more to learn, more to inspire me. Every other guy bores me. A guy could be the most handsome man on the ...

Lately I have found myself wondering what kind of person I am. If I could be labeled (most people don’t seem to want to be labeled, but alas I’m strange) with one thing, what would it be? I am neither a homemaker or a businesswoman. I am neither an artist or a photographer. I am neither unique or different. What exactly am I?

Lately I have found myself saying, “I wish I were ____” a lot.

I’ve past the point of acceptance. I am me, there’s no denying that. I am fine with the way I am. But many times, I just want more. More… more of something definite.

So if I could be a few clearly defined things I would like to be…

A woman that bakes exceptionally well and decorates her home beautifully.

A friend that always has wine, cheese, and crackers for whenever you want to come over.

A person that always has friends come over.

A homeowner.

A DIY kind of girl.

A much more creative, talented version of myself.

A woman that talks sweetly, calling friends and acquaintances “sweetie” and “love.”

A woman that makes everyone feel special.

It’s official. I think I’ve painted a photo filled with thoughts and dreams and aspirations akin to a country housewife… Honestly not my intention. But I want to be THAT girl. The one that has it all, that looks and dresses perfectly, is always prepared, has things to do with her time. Instead I’m this urban American that drives a luxury car to and from work, lives by the beach (but never goes), and I sit around watching grand ol’ American TV and microwave dinners when I get home.

I am so bored with my life.

I just want to host dinners, have pleasant and enlightening conversations over coffee and cigarettes, be social.

Too many aspirations. Too many changes. Not enough time, money, or the energy.

These days I completely don’t mind doing anything alone. If I want to go to a movie, I’ll go. If I want to see a play, I’ll go. There is no sense of requirement that someone must tag along. And while doing this provides me temporary entertainment I am not painting myself as anything definite, perhaps in part because none of this is anything anyone witnesses. I am not anything to anyone. I feel like a bunch of scattered blocks.

I don’t know if this is the preemptive feelings of unrest before a big internal and emotional change. I just know that I am not satisfied with my life. But each passing day I do nothing. My life is a gigantic waste of time and there is nothing productive coming from me. I am not working towards any goal. Nothing bigger and better will come from my diseased lifestyle.

Many days I just feel so numb, so drugged… and no outlet to rid myself of the toxins.

This is not who I am. But I am also not working towards who I want to be. And so, this perpetual state of limbo stirs me into restlessness. Worried.

Lately I have found myself wondering what kind of person I am. If I could be labeled (most people don't seem to want to be labeled, but alas I'm strange) with one thing, what would it be? I am neither a homemaker or a businesswoman. I am neither an artist or a photographer. I ...