Oh look at that, another year has come to pass. What does this rabbit year hail? Will it be anything like a soft gentle fuzzy thing or something similar to the bunny from Monty Python? Technically the lunar calendar still calls it year of the Tiger for another month. Oh the blessings of leeway, in regards to resolution no doubt. But in all seriousness and retrospect, 2010's year of the tiger was real sweet to me.
All this crap had my head hanging heavy in the late parts of 2009. Anxious. Taxing. Pressure. A whole year of that shit. Just fucking lovely, I'll have seconds, thanks. Taking too many credits, working too many jobs, volunteering for anything, trying to be the boss of everything, and not trying to slow my roll. I knew I could do it all and fit it all on a resume if I could just make some more room in my resolve, i.e., give self-possession the boot.
Still, when I think back and wave away that fog of progression I can't completely despise that year since it served as good contrast for what 2010 was to usher in. The tiger welcomed me to a promise land of sorts ... or at least a check point on the way there. Sincerely I can say I'm where I aimed to be academically, professionally, financially, romantically, as well as mentally. Moral of the story: Hard work pays, and it tips fat!
Here approaches the second half of my 10 year outline and it's time to start on this part of the rough draft. If I know the nature of the hare, then this year will at least be fair to me. However the forecast has yet to be received so honestly it's nothing but a Schrödinger's box of chocolates. I could do a whole bunch of this or that, per usual, without any real resolution. Was never good at those anyways.
Just because I like to tease, I'll let the cat peek outside the bag. So facts first. Picked up GRE and MCAT study materials. Will take one or the other within the year to save future-self from having to do it. Time to learn mandarin as well as other misc. topics in physical science. Lose 10 pounds, regain my abs, and tone my ass. With my free time I'll probably dote on a new pet, decorate this cute little spot I've posted up in (whatever, call me Suzy), and be a stronger support network for the friends 'n fam. I made it to a good place and I'll pull everyone I love with me.
The Skinny
- Jie Hua
- Detroit, Mi
- I'm in the process. I'd like to expand on that, but it's in the process. I go about my business under the guidance of gut-feelings and universal street signs. I see myself as a very quiet person. Not because I have little to say, only that my abundant thoughts know not where to start. As a child I fantasized about looking through a telescope to give me truth about the world. It amuses me now that what I am doing is looking down a microscope in an effort to reevaluate my holistic position. I am a loner, a drifter, a dreamer.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Poster Girl
It's been a rough few days from my perspective. From any other nothing is amiss, but the porcelain mask I wear is heavily flawed. Only within the four walls of my privacy you can see the hairline fractures the feed into rivers that stream down my face. From the chipped scars I wear on my bruised and broken skin, you could tell from a distance parts of me have gone missing.
Somebody help me collect the scattered pieces of my composure, before the wind carries them afar to places unseen. Somebody help me pull my mind back together so I can think in a logical order. Instead, I'm stuck in a memory I tried to snuff out. In the end it suffocates me with years of compounded questioning. And this part lets me know I'm going crazy: that in the fraught mania of lunacy I almost wish I had a God to cry to.
Brain chemistry is a great thing when it works right, BPD has made me appreciate any given normalcy. My fascination with gray matter (or white for that matter) preceded my post in the cell bio lab where many experiments were conducted on that wonderful organ tissue. Still, it's an conflicting idea to think of my brain as the subject - the specimen. To sit and probe my own thoughts, cut through the bullshit defense mechanisms throw up, and really examine through a critical eye what the monsters beneath my skull are up to.
My doctor tells me to get some rest, but realizes it's near impossible in this state. He prescribes two benydryl and bed rest. He'll see me in the morning. Did you know benydryl can be used as a lite sedative? Well it is and I need it if I want to reach even a illusion of emotional baseline. So, I put water on for tea while I try to regain poise. Pulling the tea bag from the packet, the message on the paper label starts to dry my eyes. They say: Those who live in the past limit their future. And nobody, especially my self, has the permission to restrict my potential.
Somebody help me collect the scattered pieces of my composure, before the wind carries them afar to places unseen. Somebody help me pull my mind back together so I can think in a logical order. Instead, I'm stuck in a memory I tried to snuff out. In the end it suffocates me with years of compounded questioning. And this part lets me know I'm going crazy: that in the fraught mania of lunacy I almost wish I had a God to cry to.
Brain chemistry is a great thing when it works right, BPD has made me appreciate any given normalcy. My fascination with gray matter (or white for that matter) preceded my post in the cell bio lab where many experiments were conducted on that wonderful organ tissue. Still, it's an conflicting idea to think of my brain as the subject - the specimen. To sit and probe my own thoughts, cut through the bullshit defense mechanisms throw up, and really examine through a critical eye what the monsters beneath my skull are up to.
My doctor tells me to get some rest, but realizes it's near impossible in this state. He prescribes two benydryl and bed rest. He'll see me in the morning. Did you know benydryl can be used as a lite sedative? Well it is and I need it if I want to reach even a illusion of emotional baseline. So, I put water on for tea while I try to regain poise. Pulling the tea bag from the packet, the message on the paper label starts to dry my eyes. They say: Those who live in the past limit their future. And nobody, especially my self, has the permission to restrict my potential.
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