a vast fish tank

day of beauty, cold, and believeable contentment:

days should always be listed as such.

day one and two and three were especially difficult here in the city, and here in another country not so much bc they dont speak your language (bc thats what i came for), but bc of the initial unwelcoming feeling i recieved and the inferiority i could no longer sluff off. in coming here, i had to come to terms with the fact that i dont fully know how to socialize with people my age, and when they are my age and i really become close, or they to me, they tend to be strange but loveable people. chip. james. katy. stewart. stewarts weird. he probably things i dont notice but i do. in my mind, that sounded a bit creepy...so i guess, all in all, im a lot like the ones i associate with. i never really thought that until maya lemon told me im a strange individual, and she wasnt just saying it as like 'oh you precious and lost child,' but very matter-of-factly. took me a sec, or day, or until now to really register that.

register? wait, and just who exactly associated a human emotion/realization with a machine?

if old people can sit by themselves in public, why cant young people? whats so different? why cant i not be in a rush? or simply enjoy my food, and a book, or watch people, or train myself to tune them out. why not? will you please stop looking at me with your judgemental eyes.

i went to la biblioteca nacional yesterday. wasnt true to the pictures, but it was pretty neat. six floors: one jam-packed with students, two off limits, one an art exhibit, one a history exhibit plus a concert hall, and the last with haughty, preoccupied guards, (except the woman). so of all of my options, i chose to go to the concert hall. there was a show at seven with a group of students playing the music of tango. its was good, good for me, it sparked my imagination and allowed my mind to flutter in pleasant thoughts, with the least bit of control. i wrote during it though. heres what i came up with....

words without music would be so much more sensational. if you really think about it, wouldnt it be more fufilling? our minds could think, our hearts could not be told what to feel and what not to feel.

(that was one thought/question, the next i was thinking of writing to a particular someone and i was planning on asking them what they thought on the subject and then i realized...)

one might think its nonsense, another might not. oh yea, and dont forget the one who may think nothing of it at all. life has more than two options. who knew?

(moving on...)

i really enjoyed watching this one particular young gentleman (at least he seemed like he'd be a gentleman if ever introduced). anywho, he had some curly, wild black hair, kind of like mine when i began to grow it out. its at the stage where it looks goofy and is all over the place, so much so that no one takes you seriously. he was playing the accordian and was just so into it, not in a pretentious way, but he had an obvious feel for the music and whatever that may entail. but i fell in love. oh yea, and i must admit, i do catch myself often in my own mind, asking every tall, beautiful passerby if we can marry. my goodness.

these people are too stylish.