Miss Kruczynski and Miss Gilbert

From Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind:

Joel: "I can't see anything I don't like about you."

Clementine: "But you will, you will think of things and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped because that's what happens with me."

     I feel like that sometimes--like I cannot keep an interest in anything that I want. It's rather selfish but unintentional. But in addition to getting bored and feeling trapped, I get scared. I get so afraid that I'm taking the wrong steps and, inevitably, ruin my own happiness.
     Speaking of ruined happiness, do you remember this post? Well if you haven't read it, you should. It would make the rest of what I will say easier to understand.
     So I'm currently thinking about going through with something similar to Scenario 4. I'm writing out what I want to tell one part, who I shall call Miss Lady. The background on this is that Part 1 treats Miss Lady like crap for something she cannot help (the actions of others) while Part 1 remains promiscuous. Part 1 is an ass and I have experienced enough to know this firsthand. But you see, I really want to tell Miss Lady to her face because maybe she will believe my confessions if she can see how sincere I am about them. A letter would be easily dismissed by Part 1 and the nonsense would never end. I don't even like Miss Lady but I'm a good enough person to try to get someone out of a bad situation. I have to wait for the right time to tell Miss Lady, but it will be done--I'm tired of seeing her head and his plopped atop our lunch table.
     Moving on, I feel like Gloria Gilbert from The Beautiful and Damned by F. Scott Fitzgerald. She's simple mostly and just wants to do as she pleases. Of course in the time period of the novel, it is frowned upon and most people she knows want her to settle down and marry. At the beginning of the novel, she is completely against the idea and involves herself in whatever life swings her way. Be it dates with numerous men, acquainting with people of a different social class, or even leaving fancy places because she craves gumdrops. That last part is definitely something I would do for I have an eternal sweet tooth...
     But the question is, why to I parallel myself to these characters--Miss  Kruczynski and Miss Gilbert? What about them makes me feel as though they, maybe not as a whole, are representative of myself? I'm not sure and I could be completely off base, but I guess there is a little of us all in the characters of books and movies. I'm just curious as to why these two characters--out of everything I've ever seen, everything I've ever read--appeal to me on a personal level as much they have. I'd like opinions on this if you have any knowledge of the characters and me, of course.(:

Seize the moment

     I know it's weird to say, but I wait for spontaneity. That doesn't really make any sense but it does, confusing huh? Well allow me to explain. I have never been a spontaneous person, I've always wanted to be but things don't quite work out how we want. It's like the movies--girls are shown that we are supposed to wait for the guy to do something, so we do. Well, I did. I think it also has something to do with caring about the opinions of others. What we don't see is that the opinions of others mean little to nothing in retrospect to our own opinion of ourselves. Hm, that seems rather wordy and this whole paragraph is much a jumble of unorganized thoughts, so let me get back on track.

     Spontaneity, that is the subject matter of this post. What is it? What causes it? What prevents it? According to dictionary.com spontaneity is "the state, quality, or fact of being spontaneous." Take in mind that spontaneous means "coming or resulting from a natural impulse or tendency; without effort or premeditation; natural and unconstrained; unplanned." So we can all come to the conclusion that spontaneity kind of 'just happens', so technically nothing specific causes it except natural impulses. But what prevents it? Being over-concerned with the aftermath of said spontaneity--that's what will do it. Why be so concerned though? Why worry about the outcome if there is nothing to lose? Would you rather regret not knowing how things could have been or regret trying? (Personally I would regret not knowing how things could have been, but that's just me.)
     This is the part where I go back to my initial statement: I wait for spontaneity. I am patient and forever awaiting the unexpected--but not expecting it. (Comprendes?) Except now I've smarted up, I stopped waiting for things to happen and have decided to become proactive. (Yes, that was a joke to the acne medication; ha ha.) If I have the impulse to do something, I'll do it because I don't want to have to wonder what it would be like if I didn't. And who cares what people think? They are not the ones who will regret what I did not do, I will. Why take that chance?
     Every moment is precious, seize it like it was your last. Stop worrying about every move you make--this is life, not a game of chess. You are the only person who can regret what courage you lack, don't take that chance in your life. Trust your impulses and love who you are!<333

A violent symphony

     It's so simple but artistic at the same time. I mean, it obviously takes skill and coordination to be a good soccer player but I think people overlook the beauty of it.
     When I saw them play today, when I watched the perfect passes, I imagined a ballad of brass instruments roaring in sync with one another. When the other team disrupted the passing cycle, I heard the flat notes of the stringed instruments. It sounded so sour and so beautiful at the same time, as though each harsh noise was made to oppose the preceding beauty. When a goal was made, the spectators cheered and I heard some child run his tiny hands across a grand piano--another disruption to the harmony of the brass section. His in-home piano instructor scowls at him, so the child returns to practicing his scales...

     Even the raw action of the soccer players was amazing. The perfect timing of SDB's header, the wall his team created, the speed that the players reached to get to the ball. Have you ever seen those check card commercials, where one guy pays with cash and ruins the order of things? Well that's soccer for you, only violent. I think that the aggressiveness makes it just that much more interesting. The way the you feel your heart racing even though you're on the sidelines. The way you want to yell words of encouragement but hold back in such a way that it causes a small upset in your body. The way you are so focused on the game that the high chilled winds are nothing but an inconvenience.

     I was only disappointed that not everyone on SDB's team had his dedication and desire to win. A lot of them seemed passive and let the other team get the ball before acting. I watched and wondered what it would be like if wars were settled with soccer... it would be quite interesting. A violent symphony for the sake of your country...

     The day went on swell. We ate, I corrected SDB's paper about selling houses, SDB's dad flicked me off, I actually had a conversation with SDB's brother, and laughed mostly.

    And to end on a completely different note, SDB is now supremely black and almost ordered the perfect racist meal at IHOP: waffles and fried chicken. xD 

Infinite castle

     Time does strange things sometimes. Today, for instance, it was slow and patient yet somehow, it passed too quickly. It's comparable to day-light savings--as I was just getting used to the pointless time change, an hour was stripped away. (Does that make sense? I think I worded it sort of awkwardly but hopefully you get the jist.)
     When you see a pile of approximately seven mattresses/box springs, what do you do? Well you would probably do nothing, you would probably wonder about them, but you would continue going about your business. But I, on the other hand, would see a personal trampoline! So I bolted towards the marvelous pile of springy goodness, climbed atop and jumped as high as I safely could. Chris joined me and we almost tumbled down, ha ha. Somehow, I managed to cut my leg but that's so typical of me. We decided to get breakfast for lunch--some "Texas Slices" (WOO TEXAS! Ha ha.) or as most people call it--french toast.
     But to sum it up, today was a day of observations and randomness. Duck museums and the Christmas Mouse. It was a day of newness, a newness that makes me happy.<33

"Sand is overrated. It's just tiny, little rocks."

-Joel  Barish, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Trivial matters make all the difference

     Yesterday morning, Mr. Blaire--Kasey's other half--handed me a small, trinket-sized Buddha. It has a loop on the back so one can wear it as a charm on a necklace; but when it was given to me, Mr. Blaire referred to it as a pocket Buddha. The result was a small Buddha in my pocket, obviously.
     When I told Ligia about it, she asserted that Mr.Blaire had tried to give it to her amongst other people. I wasn't phased because I know that he just wanted to find it a good home rather than throw it away. And I guess you can say that the Buddha has made its way to my heart.
     Though I'm still cursed with hitting all the red lights, I feel like this Buddha has granted me a lot of luck. It has given me confidence to out rap Matt Brenson, granted me bold spontaneity, and happiness. Today was such a simple day... but I was left overwhelmed with joy.<3 Bare feet and bridges, and talking about a wide variety things--and nothing. I don't know how to describe the day without over simplifying or making tornados out of fallen sheets of music.
     It was just... amazing, and I'll leave it at that.

(: