Disposable

First day of the New Year. Woke up at 7am, and after failing to fall back asleep, decided to go through notebooks from the year and type up all the scribbled points. Books and music to check out, musings on how to self-improve, episode ideas for that TV show I’ll never write, overheard quotes, some things I can’t remember the context of or to what it’s referring, and a lot of incomplete thoughts.

I sometimes wonder the use in jotting down these notes. They’re fleeting, disposable, one might say—and so I present them alongside these disposable camera shots. ~~seGuE*`

So maybe enjoy this curated 2016 alongside San Francisco snaps.

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You can never do something fully ironically.
Writing a Short Film by Cooper and Dancyger
Genuinity: don’t pretend to understand things when you don’t. React. Don’t react if you don’t feel anything. Dial back the self-deprication—(humbly) acknowledge accomplishments I’m proud of.

Coming of age stories feel universal. Does that mean that all humans go through a similarly themed life? What’s the point in us repeating and relearning the same lessons over and over? [On an individual level. Does it better society in general?]

5589 Victoria Dr. – amazing sushi
“The Invisible Girl”
You will never be the only one. It’s a notion both comforting and disheartening.
“We are not sure we are alive.”

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Loyalty is different from obligation.
Explorers who would forage/I get mad envy/Call me MADgellan
Maybe Judd Apatow’s world is the uncensored version of ours. Or maybe we’re a censored version.

When I’m easily swayed by other people’s opinions, I like to think it’s because I’m empathetic, that I’m just trying to see things from their perspective, rather than me just being spineless.

We need racial diversity in roles because my voice teacher once told me I’d better learn some Miss Saigon songs.
I do stupid things like asking people the last time they’ve cried.
Pickier with friends than lovers.
Copic marker.

Don’t let other people tell you what’s important.
Not to brag, but I have a lot of experience as a third wheel.
It’s not a great quality, but I have begun to lose the shame of taking selfies in public.

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That day singed into my skin, along my shoulders, taking weeks to fade.

I’ve only just realized there’s a difference between being yourself and allowing your id to run the show.
chorus/verse/chorus/bridge/verse or chorus
I kind of forgot people could lie.
Last night’s dream: Parents have to decide if daughter turns into a tree or a book.
Is guilt narcissism with a conscience?

It’s not about crafting this immaculate image of yourself—it’s important to try things and grow. [There is no end goal.]
My Sunday eyes.
I want to be crisp sounds: ts and ks and ps. But I can’t focus and all I can give are fs and shs and rs with only mumbles of us for vowels.
(make a picture book!)
We can only tell stories, not facts.

June 27. I feel at peace. Things are happening, life is moving. It moves at a pace that 7 billion other people move at, so I can too. It’s a bit of a relief to not only feel happy while super hopped up on coffee or surrounded by others or any other external forces. To just be on your own and doing great. Though, of course, life going well helps.

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One thought on “Disposable

  1. A poetic reflection on a year of adventures and introspection. The thought of “Sunday eyes” brought a smile to my face and your observation that we can only tell stories, not facts, resonates. You see things….

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