what it's like to eat what's rotten

obese people break my heart. no matter how they got to that point, whether it was all their fault or not- they just depress me. what a horrible existence to be trapped inside your own body, a prisoner of your own skin. true, there's a way to be freed of that but for a lot of people that's just not an option due to financial issues or some other limiting circumstance. the fuel that powers obese people to keep eating and eating and eating is almost always so deep seeded and nearly impossible to get rid of. the appetite that drives them everyday seems to be unable to be satiated. television shows that glorify and exploit these people disgust me. i can't watch them, not even five minutes. the continuous footage of someone who would otherwise be able to lift himself out of a chair simply can't because of his sheer size. the person behind that camera should be ashamed of themselves. to sit back and watch human beings eat themselves to death and struggle with shifting their own weight is just as bad as letting someone slit their wrists and drain their blood in the bathtub. they're both slow and in-plain-view ways to die. sure, we have a whole medical field dedicated to the obese population but bariatrics hasn't done much for the growing number of americans eating their way into oblivion.

this isn't a judgment on obese people at all. i truly hurt for them. i understand harboring a hatred and love for food, both personally and vicariously through certain family members. to carry that emotional and physical weight is exhausting and seemingly unbearable. i hate that this issue is being paraded around on television like some oddity, when in reality it's all too common.

to bring myself out of this gut wrenching topic, here's a few things that bring me joy.

stale marshmallows, oversized mugs, being able to hear how cold it is outside while i'm in a warm house, new bras to match my underwear, warmth in general, hugs, meaningful conversations, promises kept, long lasting friendships, wrapping gifts, old nickelodeon shows, space heaters, mohonk mountain, a clean room, "i love you"'s spelled and pronounced that very way, j brand jeans, being able to make someone's day, being listened to, getting the perfect gift for someone, being understood, pizza, finishing something.

an acquaintance strikes a chord

when exactly is the right time to let something go? what determines said time and how do you judge the severity of said something? in the broad spectrum of people, i've noticed that it's not exactly kosher to hold on to things whether they be grudges, opinions, hurt feelings, broken hearts, or memories. this brings up another question: doesn't everything that happens to you shape who you are? so then it really makes no sense to let go of anything, does it? it's a horribly confusing cycle. it's taxing to sort through all of our experiences and fumbles through life and manage them in our heads, throwing the worse ones out and keeping the better ones at the fore fronts of our minds. i'm not completely sure i can throw those regretful and heart wrenching experiences away. i don't think i am the only one either. those situations helped shape me, good or bad. has it left me in pieces at points? absolutely, and some of those pieces never got put back. i've come to terms with that. i think a lot of people out there walk around with missing parts. it's pain staking to sort through those undesirable memories but i can't just let them sit and lay stagnant. they'll start to smell.

i connect different things to my memories permanently, so it's always been hard for me to ignore certain ones. something as simple as hearing a certain band or walking on a specific route- these things automatically bring memories back to me, sucker punching me in the gut. even certain smells can do it. some people can detach the strings that connect experiences but i certainly can not. it may be a subconscious way of my brain reminding me of the lessons learned and strife endured, making me think twice about my next move. people should be more aware of their memories. they teach you a lot of things and keep you from making the same mistake over and over again. while the human condition is to continue fucking up, i think remembering can aid in finding a solution. here's a happy list.

feeling resolved.

so assist in the escape

my dreams have been interesting but not particularly noteworthy until last night. completely out of the blue, i had a lengthy and detailed dream about the most random issues, people, and places. i'm not quite sure of where to start, as my dreams often don't have a clear beginning or end.

i was walking around in the city but it wasn't really the city. this is common in most dreams, to think of a place that doesn't look anything like the real location. anyways, i turned onto 5th avenue when a kenyan man swung at me with a giant judge's gavel. he hit another man in the head instead and with that, i ran the opposite direction. i kept running and turned into a doorway that was the entrance to a law firm or what not. when i ran in i saw tom hanks but didn't treat him like he was famous at all. i told him my predicament and asked if he would let me hide there until further notice. he was very gracious in letting me stay and locked the doors just in case the kenyan man with the gavel tried to get in. at that moment, voices from a megaphone traveled in through the windows of the law firm. apparently, the voices belonged to canadian officers that were after me for a crime i didn't commit. they had sharp shooters lined up and were banging on the door. i knelt under the window to avoid getting shot and the bangs on the door grew louder. at some point in time, tom hanks transformed into hulk hogan somehow and i didn't treat it like it was anything strange. he told me to run upstairs and wait on the roof for him. i did so on my hands and knees to avoid being seen through the windows and crept onto what i thought would be the roof of the building. when i got there, it was a garage with my family's cars in it though. i decided to hide under one of them and after a few minutes, my mom came into the garage with my sister asking where i was and that they needed to give me up to the police. my mom caught me under the car and nonchalantly said that i should really turn myself in. i cried and screamed that i was being falsely accused and then my dad came in and started yelling just as loud as i had been. he said i better go or else canada would start a war with america. i begged them to just hide me and play dumb with the police but they were having none of it. so i decided to make another run for it and ended up in a beat up jeep at hulk hogan's fish restaurant in the middle of the woods. i decided to not let him know i was there for fear of getting the same reaction i had received from my family. i opted to keep driving. i sped by on a desolate road with a view of the water to my right. all i saw was dead whales floating at the surface and random boaters looking at the carcasses with a blank stare.

the dream trails off somewhere on that road, with me glancing at that horrible body of water.

the truth is vile but vital to this cause

why is it that people endure so many unnecessary hardships at the hand of others? there have been too many times where i've seen people continue to drag out a fruitless friendship or relationship while knowing the whole time that it's pointless to do so. if there is no balance, rewarding give-and-take, or happiness in a friendship it's time to get out. we're not being tallied or graded on how many people we can get to like us, it's not a competition. being nice is highly overrated and when i really think about it, being nice means telling the truth and being honest with yourself which can be hurtful or unpleasant to reveal. people need to get over pleasing every person they come across and just be genuine. there's no more raw feeling out there anymore. it's always about keeping the peace, being quiet, and frankly- being a total pussy.

not my style. if i don't like you, you'll know. this doesn't mean that i'll come up to someone screaming obscenities in their face. it means that i won't shoot a fake smile and make mundane small talk. there's nothing callous about that. it's one person being true to how they feel. i always give people a chance. if there is no spark, no connection, no interesting conversation- there is nothing for me to stick around for. the friends i have, i value to no end. i don't need people to be fans of me, i don't need to be the nice guy- because the nice guy lets you fuck him up the ass. i am not that guy. i do not want to be fucked up the ass. i'd rather save everyone time, energy, and deeply hurt feelings by getting it out there immediately. that is my way of being nice and think about it- it's true. why lead someone on?

like pierrot the clown

when i checked the mail today, i noticed something from FIT was addressed to me. i opened it and saw that it was information on commencement. this immediately excited me, as it is my turn to put the graduation garb on. the kicker is, i'm not just graduating at the actual Fashion Institute of Technology- my graduation ceremony is being held at Radio City Music Hall! i was practically jumping up and down in excitement. i shared my news immediately with everyone who was in earshot. my mom cared a lot. my dad joked about it. and the rest, well- it never ceases to amaze me how nonchalant and unmoved people can be. i'm not saying everyone on the face of the planet needs to be chipper 24/7, but at least give someone a sincere pat on the back when it's called for- even if you, yourself, don't think said news or event is all that special. the reactions of people i love and matter to me are just as important as my own. this is a big deal for me and i'd like to feel that people i surround myself with feel the weight of what is happening and what will happen soon. i support all my friends' endeavors with the utmost enthusiasm i can provide and to put it bluntly, i feel as though i get half (at best) of what i give. i want my friends and family to succeed and show everyone how amazing they all are, but i want the same back bone of support. my own gets weak and achy at certain times and i feel like i have no one to lean on when i need it. sure, i can get someone's word that i can depend on them but it's barely sincere.

here are some things that displease me.

one piece anythings, rompers, leggings as pants, crocs, skechers shape-ups, being cut off in mid sentence, hipsters that think they are totally 100% authentically original, dry skin on my face, waiting, overload of assignments, slow walkers, a lack of support, high waisted jeans, being the runner up, sleepless nights, stomach aches so bad that it hurts to inhale and exhale.

on a day like today

this month has been flying by. even though i've only been back at school for three weeks now, it feels much longer. this isn't necessarily a bad thing- it's just a feeling. recently, my passion for art has been reignited. (for some reason, blogger is telling me that "reignited" isn't a word- but it definitely is.) i don't know exactly when or how it happened, but it did. i'm talented and i rarely acknowledge it. i've been talented for a long time and i always shoot myself down. i won't do that anymore, though. by no means am i the greatest and most gifted student or young artist in new york, but i am competition. it feels odd to admit it to myself, but at the same time it feels satisfying. i know how to sell myself and i know how to deal with people and a lot of the truly amazing artists that are my age have no idea how to do that. they're like a bunch of deers in a giant pair of headlights. is it terrible that they might never get their name or work to the public eye? yes, of course. is it great for me? absolutely. i'm okay with that. that's how my trade works. you're out for yourself and on your own. there is no company name to fall on, there is no higher position to blame it on, there is nothing but yourself.

i still want that steady job and those comforting benefits. that is the ultimate goal. but art will play a part in my life forever and i plan on making some money off of it. i'm happy and relieved to have made this realization. art and i just had to take some time apart to realize how much we needed each other.

i made a mild modification to the nicholas cage tribute post. also, here are a few things that make me happy.

cover songs, a good shopping day, new shit, marrakesh oil.

it arose on azimuth glares

tonight is the first night it really feels like fall. the temperature is moderately lower and the air is fresher, more crisp. there's less water hanging in it. it even smells different. i love when seasons are in their own type of limbo. they don't know if they should oppose the rival season or just back down and take a break for a few months. those are probably some of my favorite days- when it feels like summer and autumn simultaneously. there's something really special about the fall though. the colors, the smells, the sounds- they're all wonderful to me. i favor warmer colors so it's no surprise to me that i love the orange, red, and yellow hues the leaves all acquire. even though those colors signify that the leaf is dead, i still think it's the most beautiful a leaf can look. the smell of fall is a combination of things i can't put into words. i also love the way the sun looks in the fall. it looks as if it's not that hot- that it's just warm enough. i know the temperature of the sun doesn't change, but it's how i see it is all. i guess it's different for everyone. i am extremely excited for the season to go into full swing and for halloween and thanksgiving and all those fun things- which offers a perfect segue into the happy list.

underpants, buying underpants, wearing underpants, the word "underpants", dancing around in underpants, pajama pants, wearing pajama pants whenever i can, taking pajama pants off in bed, sleeping in underpants, the word "pants", cooking something i've never cooked before, secret handshakes, learning new words, small trips to cold spring harbor, english breakfast tea from a keurig machine.