Sometimes I really go overboard, but I do break down a lot in my head, scream a lot, feel too much, show too little. There's too little to show nowadays, too weary to prove, because... you see, the Himalayas are out there, beyond this parking lot.
I miss... mao mao, rong rong, fan qie, 97, dora, duoduo, emilia, gege, everybody from gil, and they are a world a way. They really are.
En.
Dramatics aside. Back at school. Utterly unreal. Some nice moments... because, no matter how fake, there is always a genuine warmth in seeing old faces, old friends, old acquaintances... mostly, old acquaintances, but there's something nice in that too, because you and you were able to meet up and talk about lives and future and where is the cinemax building? And maybe someday the two of you can have a chat over coffee and cigarettes (his) and become better friends, maybe you'll sigh and laugh and wonder why you weren't better friends. Acquaintances are nice in that way.
I don't know why I'm in school. Being lectured to confuses me a great deal, not that I'm dripping with wisdom and have no more "stuff" that need to be taught to, but because frankly, I've lost my marbles in English and can no longer dabble verbally in this language. Fuck eloquence. Fuck class participation. I mean it. What the fuck is with the American education system and its insistence upon class participation, verbal brilliance, and "never be afriad to ask stupid questions." Well hell I'm afraid of Virgina Woolf and maybe I would rather just sit in my corner, soak, and read Shakespeare verses without having to descant upon it in fear of mediocrity. I swear to god today some kid used the word espouses in that "literary" sense I almost fell out of my chair.
Yes, I've forgotten how to string English together--verbally, in a classroom, and I hate feeling stupid, and once again, I would like to announce my intentions of dropping out of school... and that is all.
New people are uninteresting, not because they are uninteresting, I don't really know them, it's more or less... when you're old you're not so keen to make new friends and seek more soulmates that sort of deal, when you're old and seniorized, you realized that fuck it, you just kind of want to stay in your sweet apartment, cook, and write, and maybe take as many long walks until winter freezes over and freezes your mind.
I miss China the way I wished mao&rong were just next door. It's that kind of miss, but in a way, I've come to the conclusion that I need America to love and appreciate China, and that I need to China to love and appreciate New York (we've long been done with Ohio... who the FUCK is Ohio).
Sometimes, when you're all smiles and masks of joy, you pause suddenly and realize, that all of this doesn't really matter much. Then again, I'm not sure French new wave matters much. I'm not sure what matters much at this moment.
Maybe giving Rohan a call and ask him to rent me a room for dirt dirt cheap. If I'm in America, I might as well go New York.