Waiting For Sunset

February 24, 2009

French Vanilla scented loneliness.

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 5:59 am

Dearest Reader,

Again this will be done in the style that I would normally apply to my handwritten diary. The words come much faster this way, and I would rather be in a wide room, stimulated by the humming of the house appliances, french vanilla coffee and this glowing screen.

I am in a writing mood… But I feel I must strengthen my vocabulary, because I can never emit the sentiment I aim for, when I write creatively. The whole this always comes out broken and bland… A cheaper version than what I had first envisioned.

The largest problem with staying at home, jobless and without schooling, is justifying your existence. That is what I am thinking about right now. School and work are surely not the only important things, but they are the foundation of an identity, to which other qualities are added. Now I am a floating existence of various characteristics, without a foundation… I, therefore,  do not really exist to society. And that bothers me. My time feels borrowed, as it always had… And perhaps I have always needed school to distract me from the fact that maybe I do not fully belong to this world.

Yesterday, we went over to Nana and Papou’s. It was Nanas birthday, so even Uncle Peter and Auntie Karen were there. I did not go to C’s birthday party. That fact was on my mind, so I brought it up at the end of the night, like my mother had threatened to do. Only Auntie R and Auntie E were left. a debate erupted about parenting, and social stigmas and drugs… And I felt immensely guilty for being the cause of so much commotion. Soon, the foru shifted completely to the topic of my father and his impact on our family… I always feel so exhausted when it comes up. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.

I feel loved tonight. Enough. Enough for me.


January 27, 2009

An Otaku? Get real.

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 12:06 am


I would like to write about manga briefly! I am embarassed to admit that I am quite a huge fan of anime.  It is an embarassing subject, because the associations are embarassing! Consider the known image of the overweight girl, black hair with bangs and glasses, wearing a hat equiped with cat ears, ‘inuyasha’ poster posted faithfully on wall, gushing over anything with big eyes, reading fan-fiction and squealing, “kawaiiii!’: An otaku stereo-type… Disturbingly real. These people have no social knowledge or tact, so I refuse to be associated with such a thing! I don’t understand why the admiration of manga makes people give up basic human etiquette or understanding… How do these people come about?

motivate_otakuAm I an Otaku? Wikipedia says, “Otaku (おたく/オタク?) is a Japanese term used to refer to people with obsessive interests, particularly anime, manga, and video games.”

I know I don’t have an obsession. I will not think something is good, simply because it is done in japanese animation. When I read manga, I am attracted to the beauty, and my guilty pleasure is the abstract melodrama. Usually, the best manga are those with a simple story, but exploring different philosophies. I rarely have the patience to read through a story of senseless trivia, or extreme cyber life. I like the stories that explore character/human nature, and beauty.

I am currently reading different mangas online… It can be very calming, and doing so is a great escape. Hardly any thought it required to read manga, and it is exceedingly easy to lose yourself in the characters and their over-dramatic, unrealistic life.  Have you ever identified with any character in a manga? Chances are, it is because the character represents not real human behaviour, but human motive. I have found that more than anything else, mangas explore human longing–and everyone can relate to striving, dreaming.

So don’t feel bad about indulging in a manga every now and then.  Let your childish longings take over and fall into a new story, a new world.  Just don’t forget about the beautiful one you already inhabit, so much more complex and enticing than the one you are escaping to. Be the hero of your own fantasy!

January 26, 2009

Anxious Eyes upon fleeting Beauty.

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 8:30 am

Dearest Reader,

I will write this as fast as I can, for I am terribly tired. I have been staying up exceedingly late as though I am nocturnal, so it is strange to feel so sleepy at only 2:30 in the morning, but I am happy for it. Tossing and turning sleeplessly is dreadful. I will write this entry in the same way I would write an entry in my hand-written diary, because the content is originally intended for it- but I have no pen and I am much to tired to bare my slow pensmanship. At the same time, I cannot bare to lose this day into the forgotten, as ordinary as it seems. Every moment is sacred to me… And that thought is a burden, truly, but inevitable. (Speaking of which, there is a japanese concept called ‘hitsuzen’ which deals with the concept of inevitability. It depicts loosely that we are the masters of our fate but, based on our choices, the result is inevitable. There are no concidences, only ‘hitzusen’. I learned of it through a manga actually! I thought it note-worthy, because it gives a name to something I more or less believe.)

I woke up this afternoon earlier than usual to get ready for my grandparent’s house. It was actually my mother whom woke me up. She had bought 3 shirts for me! The last time I recieved new clothes is… Beyond me! I love clothes! We are having monetary troubles as always, so it was very surprising. Apparently the store was having a large special on winter garments, to make  way for summer fashions.

My father was in a terrible mood, so I generally avoided him until we all went in the car. I asked if he would lower the radio, and he protested angrily and harshly. When I asked him why he was in such a bad the mood for the whole morning, he said that it was because of me, and my stupid attitude. I tried saying that it wasn’t, because I hadn’t even spoken to him earlier, but he said to ‘shut up and stop being so damn controllive’.

I like seeing the extended family. There is so much liveliness! So many smiles and kisses and voices. I don’t like silence among people. I like when people talk around a table, or socialize! Silences at my own house make me quite anxious– that is probably why I seem so loud and hyper. I hate the silence.

Papou showed me the remnants of an old grecian statue he had. He wants to carve a woman into the violin he’s making, as a head-piece, and he wants me to draw this woman. It is difficult, but I can’t wait to see his happiness when I’m done! He also wants me to draw 3 women across a board of marble, which I’m still not finished. It is so difficult to draw on marble… He wants to trace the lines, engraving the design I’ve done.

My cousin Samantha and my older brother, Christopher, weren’t over at lunch time, so it was strange to be at the long family table and not be talking to them. But I still spoke with Papou and Anthony instead. Anthony has gotten very skillful with card magic tricks! He is quick.

I passed my Aunt Roula right as she was leaving to pick up Samantha from the mall, and she happily invited me for the ride. Of course I didn’t refuse. I love talking with her, and relate to her on many levels. She seems like the black sheep of her ecentric, greek family and she loves to read, so we are constantly discussing books. Its refreshing to have someone to talk to, that shares your passion. On the way back with Samantha, we went to Chapters, the bookstore, and it was so tormenting to see all the books I wanted and could not have! But I adore it… Samantha doesn’t really like to read, so we didn’t linger as long as I would have liked, hehe.

Back at the house, I was pleasantly surprised to see Christopher! We started speaking immediately, and I was made aware of how much I miss him as always. His personality is just so refreshing, and I always think of how great it would be to have his daily dose of quirk to my chaotic life once again. He recommended a graphic novel to me… “Watchmen”, I think it was called? And later he lent me two CDs out of nowhere, wanting me to listen to them. I was touched, because that meant he had brought them with him, just for my oppinion on them.

I forget how it came up, but the subject of me moving out when I’m 19 years old started and caused a big fuss at the end of the evening, after everyone had left… Especially when my mom found out that it was Nick,  who would be my roomate. I hadn’t realized she was previously unaware of this fact.   Papou was beside himself, saying that women are lured into ‘traps’, and making all sorts of round-about allusions to me potentially being taken advantage of, or trying drugs, or dropping out of school. He doesn’t understand why I have to move out. I was so thankful that Christopher was there, defending me… I cannot even begin to describe my gratitude. (Even if he did give me too much credit while doing so!) My older brother… is wonderful. The best brother I could ask for, along with my little brother. I have always been so thankful for my 3 siblings, even if I don’t often admit it openly. I erupted in tears briefly when trying to explain my reasoning: “You don’t understand. When things happen at the house, I can’t think. And when you can’t think, you can’t work– and when you can’t work, you FAIL.” I was thinking of all the hardships of the last 2 years, along with my college failure and disapointing senior year.

Stephanie left for Grandma and Grandpa’s house on my father’s side. She stays there to lower travelling expenses during her school week. I dread her absence. She came downstairs half way through the afternoon at Papou’s house and said awkwardly in her low voice, “Uh, I’m leaving now…” and I didn’t want her to go. She was standing there absently, with her winter jacket on and holding her bag of clothes and toiletries for the week. The only reservation I have about moving out, is leaving my family. Lately… I have trouble being alone.

Anthony stayed up into the morning finishing his math notes. I must admit that that is the only reason I am still awake. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving his miserable figure alone. The light of the computer screen emphasised the circles forming under his tired eyes. I eventually made him hot chocolate. As I was making the hot chocolate, I began to feel guilty about all the times he had done the very same for me without a word.  He did an amazing job on the math notes, though… And I am happy for him. I know he will score a perfect mark on the assignment!

I wish I could explain the peace that I have found myself in as of late. Ever since the extreme decline of my mental health last year, I have only felt better.  Slowly… After that night, where I cried and cried like a baby, screaming, and threatening to kill myself and my father, I have only gotten better. I became calmer and calmer… Until I fell strangely and suddenly inlove with the world and every last thing about it. I am still trying to deconstruct how it exactly came about, but I am so so so happy, even when I am sad. And I wish I could share this love, or expose it. But who would believe that I am not as negative as I seem- That I revere Beauty? How could I ever convince anyone that despite my passing remarks, I am shining and bursting with love and happiness underneath?

I feel like I am a good girl.  I am only insecure… How can I prove it? My mother  is really the only one I would like to convince… Those disapointed, rolling eyes.

December 4, 2008


Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 7:30 pm


If you want to understand a little part of what drives me, it would do well to understand the Victorian Era. The Victorian Era took place from 1837 to 1901, under the ruling of Queen Victoria in the United Kingdoms. It was a time of great prosperity, born from the second Industrial Revolution.  Before the Victorian Era came the Georgian Era, and after it  came the Edwardian Era. Stylistically, all these time periods were beautiful. I will let Wikipedia take it over from here:

“The era is often characterized as a long period of peace, known as the Pax Britannica, and economic, colonial, and industrial consolidation, temporarily disrupted by the Crimean War, although Britain was at war every year during this period. Towards the end of the century, the policies of New Imperialism led to increasing colonial conflicts and eventually the Anglo-Zanzibar War and the Boer War. Domestically, the agenda was increasingly liberal with a number of shifts in the direction of gradual political reform and the widening of the voting franchise. The population of England had almost doubled from 16.8 million in 1851 to 30.5 million in 1901. In the early part of the era the House of Commons was dominated by the two parties, the Whigs and the Tories. From the late 1850s onwards the Whigs became the Liberals even as the Tories became known as the Conservatives. These parties were led by many prominent statesmen including Lord Melbourne, Sir Robert Peel, Lord Derby, Lord Palmerston, William Gladstone, Benjamin Disraeli and Lord Salisbury. The unsolved problems relating to Irish Home Rule played a great part in politics in the later Victorian era, particularly in view of Gladstone’s determination to achieve a political settlement. The Victorian fascination with novelty resulted in a deep interest in the relationship between modernity and cultural continuities. Gothic Revival architecture became increasingly significant in the period, leading to the Battle of the Styles between Gothic and Classical ideals. Charles Barry’s architecture for the new Palace of Westminster, which had been badly damaged in an 1834 fire, built on the medieval style of Westminster Hall, the surviving part of the building. It constructed a narrative of cultural continuity, set in opposition to the violent disjunctions of Revolutionary France, a comparison common to the period, as expressed in Thomas Carlyle’s The French Revolution: A History and Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. Gothic was also supported by the critic John Ruskin, who argued that it epitomised communal and inclusive social values, as opposed to Classicism, which he considered to epitomise mechanical standardisation.

The middle of the century saw The Great Exhibition of 1851, the first World’s Fair and showcased the greatest innovations of the century. At its centre was the Crystal Palace, an enormous, modular glass and iron structure – the first of its kind. It was condemned by Ruskin as the very model of mechanical dehumanisation in design, but later came to be presented as the prototype of Modern architecture. The emergence of photography, which was showcased at the Great Exhibition, resulted in significant changes in Victorian art. John Everett Millais was influenced by photography (notably in his portrait of Ruskin) as were other Pre-Raphaelite artists. It later became associated with the Impressionistic and Social Realist techniques that would dominate the later years of the period in the work of artists such as Walter Sickert and Frank Holl. Popular forms of entertainment varied by social class. Victorian Britain, like the periods before it, was interested in theatre and the arts, and music, drama, and opera were widely attended. There were, however, other forms of entertainment. Gambling at cards in establishments popularly called casinos was wildly popular during the period: so much so that evangelical and reform movements specifically targeted such establishments in their efforts to stop gambling, drinking, and prostitution.

Brass bands and ‘The Bandstand’ became popular in the Victorian era. The band stand was a simple construction that not only created an ornamental focal point, but also served acoustic requirements whilst providing shelter from the changeable British weather. It was common to hear the sound of a brass band whilst strolling through parklands. At this time musical recording was still very much a novelty.
Another form of entertainment involved ‘spectacles’ where paranormal events, such as hypnotism, communication with the dead (by way of mediumship or channelling), ghost conjuring and the like, were carried out to the delight of crowds and participants. Such activities were more popular at this time than in other periods of recent Western history.  The impetus of the Industrial Revolution had already occurred, but it was during this period that the full effects of industrialization made themselves felt, leading to the mass consumer society of the 20th century. The revolution led to the rise of railways across the country and great leaps forward in engineering, most famously by Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

Another great engineering feat in the Victorian Era was the sewage system in London. It was designed by Joseph Bazalgette in 1858. He proposed to build 82 mi (132 km) of sewerage linked with over 1,000 mi (1,600 km) of street sewers. Many problems were found but the sewers were completed. After this, Bazalgette designed the Thames Embankment which housed sewers, water pipes and the London Underground. During the same period London’s water supply network was expanded and improved, and gas reticulation for lighting and heating was introduced in the 1880s.

During the Victorian era, science grew into the discipline it is today. In addition to the increasing professionalism of university science, many Victorian gentlemen devoted their time to the study of natural history. This study of natural history was most powerfully impacted by Charles Darwin and his theory of evolution first published in his book “On the Origins of Species” in 1859.

Photography was realized in 1829 by Louis Daguerre in France and William Fox Talbot in the UK. By 1900, hand-held cameras were available.
Although initially developed in the early years of the 19th century, gas lighting became widespread during the Victorian era in industry, homes, public buildings and the streets. The invention of the incandescent gas mantle in the 1890s greatly improved light output and ensured its survival as late as the 1960s. Hundreds of gasworks were constructed in cities and towns across the country. In 1882, incandescent electric lights were introduced to London streets, although it took many years before they were installed everywhere.
19th century Britain saw a huge population increase accompanied by rapid urbanisation stimulated by the industrial revolution. The large numbers of skilled and unskilled people looking for work suppressed wages down to barely subsistence level. Available housing was scarce and expensive, resulting in overcrowding. These problems were magnified in London, where the population grew at record rates. Large houses were turned into flats and tenements, and as landlords failed to maintain these dwellings slum housing developed. Kellow Chesney described the situation as follows “Hideous slums, some of them acres wide, some no more than crannies of obscure misery, make up a substantial part of the, metropolis… In big, once handsome houses, thirty or more people of all ages may inhabit a single room.” (The Victorian Underworld) The Victorian era became notorious for employing young children in factories and mines and as chimney sweeps.[7] Children were expected to help towards the family budget, often working long hours in dangerous jobs and low wages.[8] Climbing boys were employed by the chimney sweeps; small children were employed to scramble under machinery to retrieve cotton bobbins; and children were also employed to work in coal mines to crawl through tunnels too narrow and low for adults. Children also worked as errand boys, crossing sweepers, shoe blacks, or selling matches, flowers and other cheap goods.[9] Many children got stuck in the chimneys that they were sweeping and eventually died. In factories it was not uncommon for children to lose limbs crawling under machinery to pick things up. Several Factory Acts were passed to prevent the exploitation of children in the workplace. Children of poor families would leave school at the age of eight and were then forced to go to work. School was not free at this time.  Beginning in the late 1840s, major news organisations, clergymen and single women became increasingly concerned about prostitution, which came to be known as “The Great Social Evil.” Although estimates of the number of prostitutes in London by the 1850s vary widely (in his landmark study, Prostitution, William Acton reported that the police estimated there were 8,600 in London alone in 1857), it is enough to say that the number of women working the streets became increasingly difficult to ignore. When the United Kingdom Census 1851 publicly revealed a 4% demographic imbalance in favour of women (i.e. 4% more women than men), the problem of prostitution began to shift from a moral/religious cause to a socio-economic one. The 1851 census showed that the population of Great Britain was roughly 18 million; this meant that roughly 750,000 women would remain unmarried simply because there were not enough men. These women came to be referred to as “superfluous women” or “redundant women,” and many essays were published discussing what, precisely, ought to be done with them.

While the Magdalene Asylums had been “reforming” prostitutes since the mid-18th century, the years between 1848 and 1870 saw a veritable explosion in the number of institutions working to “reclaim” these “fallen women” from the streets and retrain them for entry into respectable society—usually for work as domestic servants. The theme of prostitution and the “fallen woman” (an umbrella term used to describe any women who had sexual intercourse out of wedlock) became a staple feature of mid-Victorian literature and politics. In the writings of Henry Mayhew, Charles Booth and others, prostitution began to be seen as a social problem.

When Parliament passed the first of the Contagious Diseases Acts in 1864 (which allowed the local constabulary to force any woman suspected of venereal disease to submit to its inspection), Josephine Butler’s crusade to repeal the CD Acts yoked the anti-prostitution cause with the emergent feminist movement. Butler attacked the long-established double standard of sexual morality.

Prostitutes were often presented as victims in sentimental literature such Thomas Hood’s poem The Bridge of Sighs, Elizabeth Gaskell’s novel Mary Barton and Dickens’ novel Oliver Twist. The emphasis on the purity of women found in such works as Coventry Patmore’s The Angel in the House led to the portrayal of the prostitute and fallen woman as soiled, corrupted, and in need of cleansing.

This emphasis on female purity was allied to the stress on the homemaking role of women, who helped to create a space free from the pollution and corruption of the city. In this respect the prostitute came to have symbolic significance as the embodiment of the violation of that divide. The double standard remained in force. Divorce legislation introduced in 1857 allowed for a man to divorce his wife for adultery, but a woman could only divorce if adultery was accompanied by cruelty. The anonymity of the city led to a large increase in prostitution and unsanctioned sexual relationships. Dickens and other writers associated prostitution with the mechanisation and industrialisation of modern life, portraying prostitutes as human commodities consumed and thrown away like refuse when they were used up. Moral reform movements attempted to close down brothels, something that has sometimes been argued to have been a factor in the concentration of street-prostitution in Whitechapel, in the East End of London, by the 1880s.”

My obsession borders on the maniacal, but it makes me happy. And if my obsession makes me happy while harming none, it is fine. 🙂

November 8, 2008

Drizzling Down

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 6:34 am

I do not want this day to fall in the dreadful abyss of the forgotten… So even though I am exceedingly tired… I must get the main ideas down.

1. Went with N to the mall and the bookstore, just to be together.

2. A bought me a poster I had been admiring at the beginning of the week… How thoughtful… V told me what has been bothering her.

3. Went downtown with N… His car has the best mix of music. Everything is so much funner in pairs: Riding the metro, drinking spiced coke rum on a balcony in the rain, taking long, dark bus rides, trying interesting new restaurants and coffee flavours… I truly had a wonderful time and I cannot wait to do it again. (But the homeless break my heart.)

4. My father was laid off from work.

November 3, 2008

Imaginary Colors.

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 1:01 pm

It is 7 o clock in the morning, and my eyes are heavy. There is not one student inside the college but me. For some reason, I like it better this way. There is no one to be shy around, to look away from. I can soak in my surroundings in long doses, hear the buzzing of the light. The walls of this classroom are completely white, along with the floor, and if I look out the equally white door, I see a white hall. This is an extension of the school… But the whiteness makes it almost… Imaginary.

I feel as though I am constantly living a yin and yang existence. Maybe it is the bipolar nature of my life, but I have always had this light/dark sensation, even as a child. Whether it was struggling to be a good girl, or a bad girl, or simply whether it was wearing black, or color.

I hear people approaching.

My mother starts her new job today. I hope she likes it. I must be hard to go from being a general manager, to someone of whom packs meat. But she has said only positive things about it. She gets very angry whenever I should bring up monetary issues. I admit, sometimes I make comments about our misfortune to directly wound her, or my father. It is no wonder that they don’t know who I am. I keep presenting a jaded version of myself to them, and they don’t dare question it. They make me feel so guilty sometimes… For the little things. For misplaced words, or untimely movements. I find myself going through life in a endless apology because of it.

But this is just me having too much time to comtemplate in the stillness.

My favorite part of college so far is the train. There is nothing more pleasing to me than the subtle rocking of the seats, the nameless faces you will never meet again and looking through the window at the world, knowing that you are moving–and you will be there at the exact time you need to be. I always wish I could stay on the train and just roll along. I always feel like I’m escaping from something monstrous, and that people can see it when they look at me.

I baked some scones this morning, and ate one with wildberry tea. You know, I had the most tedious habit of putting 2 tablespoons of sugar into my daily cup of tea. At the beginning of last week, I decided to stop it… And I realized that the tea is so much more pleasing that way! It tastes delicious and so fresh. I had never tried a scone before, so it was very pleasing. I shall have to make it again sometime, to perfect it. The dough was slightly more gooey than it should have been, and was difficut to cut in wedges because of it. But yummy! And when Anthony woke up at 6 o clock (how I envied him!), he gave me some of the milkshake he had made, which is ofcourse, always fabulous.

I decided that the next thing I would change about myself is the ability to greet strangers. It is a known fact that a smile brightens a person’s day, even if it coming from one who dresses solely in black! An old lady was headed towards me as I walked over to the bus stop. I had to force myself not to look away and I said hello.  She looked pleased and nodded. I certainly hope she didn’t think I was patronizing her… Or perhaps she was patronizing me.

Last night, my father rented “The pursuit of Happyness” starring Will Smith. It thought the movie was over commercialized… The movie  was very poor. It told the real-life story of a man who rose from poverty to be someone exceedingly successful. It was everything  you might expect from such an overdone plot… And worse. I hated the general monologue of the story, which had patterns of “This part of my story is called…”…I just thought the writing was poor, and that Will Smith’s interpretation of them was not the greatest either. The only two scenes I did quite like though, was when the man’s (Will Smith) son (Will Smith’s son in real life) was looking out the window of the moving bus at all the big, rich houses, and all the happy, playing kids and the scene where the man finally gets the job he spent the whole movie trying to achieve. His eyes shine and he just looks so… HAPPY.

But I really should stop this now. There is a boy seated at the back of the class now, who is quite rudely playing rap music on his cellphone. Class is going to start in 30 minutes.

November 1, 2008

A Silent Hallow’s Eve

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 6:37 pm

Please excuse me, I do not have very much time to write. But I figure that 1 update a week (atleast) should suffice. Actually, doing it this way may be a good thing, for I do not want to give up on my longhand diary writing. Something about opening a journal is so exquisite.

Pearls, the elder cat, is sleeping on my bed beside me at the moment. I love petting her- I have not seen her in a while.

Things have been busy, busy around here… In my quest to live the ideal lifestyle, it is a very hard challenge to juggle emotions with responsibilities. In my chaotic home, harsh words and actions are exchanged almost daily. But I notice… The longer I remain docile, the more my position is an advantageous one. For instance, if my dad should say or do terrible things to me, and I act completely civil the next day, he becomes a mumbling… well, baffoon, I suppose. At the same time… It’s difficult. The sorrow. I have learned how to cry silently, unseen.

My day schedule has changed along with my sleep patterns! As soon as I wake up, I commence miniature chores. I make my bed, tidy my room… Then I prepare myself for the day’s task by throwing on loose clothing and tying my hair up (usually braided). I do the dishes, clean the kitchen, feed the animals, clean the bathroom and anything else that needs special attention. Then I eat something healthy… With tea. My breakfast is usually so healthy, but then I tend to ruin it throughout the day. The day then runs fairly smoothly… Despite…Everything.

Yesterday and today is Samhain, a celebratory day to mark the end of the Celtic year and harvest. Today is a new beginning, and I hope knowlegde of that fact with work as a greater incentive for my goals and strengthen me further. I still have yet to do a tiny ritual for the occasion. Hopefully I can find the time.

I had alot of fun dressing up my little brother for Halloween! He is much too old to go trick-or-treating, but many people still dress up. (Did you know that nobody says “trick-or-treat” anymore? They stand at the doorway expectantly, holding out their bags and leave without a word.) There were only 2 small groups of children at our door this year, which is VERY unusual. It must be because of all the new houses not too far away. My father decided to shut the light outside, when a couple of teenagers showed up. He does not agree with giving candy to those that are old enough to work for it.

October 25, 2008

Rain, Rain… Come and Stay

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 9:05 pm

The rain always  puts me into a thoughtful mood. The sky’s tears always makes the world so much more vibrant. Every color is enhanced and brilliant.

I am currently job searching… I have the newspaper open infront of me, and I see two jobs that sounds satisfactory. I long for the day when I succeed in finding a job, so I don’t feel quite so inexperienced… Or quite so stagnant. Sometimes it’s easy to think the world is spinning so fast, and that you are the only one standing still. I know in my heart that this is not truely the case, but still, I feel that desperation rising in me. That sense that I am losing not only my footing, but my hold on this existence.

Of course I am always preoccupied with the romantic, ideal life, so I was exploring sleep patterns. The ideal sleep pattern is going to bed at around 9 o’clock at nght, and waking up at around 5 o’clock. It is wise to set reasonable goals, so I will allow my self a different ratio of one hour. (10-6) I find it most saddening to be awake in a house of sleeping people. This is the state I find myself in now. How could I have not been so annerved by it all these years? It shakes me to the core. In order to combat my insomniac ways, I tried to make myself what is called a “posset.” According to Wikipedia, “A posset is a hot milk drink, popular in the Middle Ages for its supposed medicinal properties. Wine or ale was added to milk, which curdled it, and the mixture was usually spiced. It was considered a specific remedy for some minor illnesses, such as a cold, and a general remedy for others, as even today people drink hot milk to help them get to sleep.” Unfortunately, the one I made was quite… Repulsive. I shall have to find recipes with a more pleasant taste. Still, even though the taste was foul, I have never slept better. The warm syruppy feeling calmed me like nothing else, and I read “Anna Karenina” to comfort me greater  still. Today I plan to clear out my room in an attempt to purge it of its negative energies…

I realize it is so difficult to live the ideal life in this chaotic home. Just this morning, after a peaceful sleep, (until 1 in the afternoon!-Oh dear!), I get right to cleaning my room. My father comes in and yells about a dish he sees on the floor. I try to be as calm as possible. It is very hard, but it works. M father just continues yelling when he realizes I am indifferent, answering him calmly. He becomes louder, “Get up off your ass-your BIG, FAT ass! And pick up the dishes right NOW! I’m TIRED of this!”

I am trying to be alot more quiet… I often am tempted to speak for others of my family, in order to maintain some form of control over my spastic environment. So far, today, I have done alot more listening. Even when I am tempted to interject, I do not. And here I am, still alive.

The path for a sunset-like existence is a daunting one, when you notice that the world is not changing around you-that things will remain indifferent, eternal, regardless of the sorrow and happiness, the struggling of its inhabitants. It is a fatalistic, lonely thought. But to cease to strive is unacceptable.

I truly love this world.

October 19, 2008

Smoking a Cow Bone Pipe

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 5:43 am

Today has been wonderful! I simply adore spending the day away from home. Papou took Stephanie and I to the bank as promised, and then to Chapters so I could buy a birthday present for Nick. Anthony came along too, as we are to sleep over tonight. I bought Nick “War and Peace”, a masterpiece, world renowned as the best book ever written. When I told the worker what book I sought, he said, “Whoa. Good luck.” It is a very hard read. I bought Anna Karenina for myself-a book by the same author. Going through Chapters is almost a painful experience… I am always tempted to buy out the entire store!

Papou and Nana, my greek grandparents, are fantastic people.  Without fail, I am always given my grandfather’s infamous lecture about how education means everything. When he discovered that Nick is indeed a man (that sounds rather strange) he became his traditional self, and warned me not to fall for “traps” in life.  Nana is a quiet, but intelligent and sarcastic woman. She argues with Papou quite frequently, and is alot more open-minded and modern than her husband. I think the relationship between the two of them is endearing.

My grandfather likes to carve things out of wood. He is sensationally talented, carving things like portraits and pipes, and most recently another violin. It astounds and amazes me. Today I asked him, “Where did you learn to do that?” He replied, “Learn? You just look at the picture and make.” Anthony and I just stared at eachother in bewilderment.

Papou is also in the process of making a smoking pipe out of cow bones. At first I did not understand, thinking the idea was bizarre-even for Papou. But sure enough, Papou emerged with what will most surely become the most loveliest and original smoking pipe in existence. He carved all different sorts of greek symbols into it, like the accropolis and the flag, along with carefully sized people. I asked him where he found the large cow bones in the first place ( I would not have been surprised had he said he had killed a cow and cleaned off the bones for use…Such a thing is true to his eccentric character) but as always, the answer was stranger than I imagined.

“At the grocery store-I ask, and they give me.” At the sound of  our laughter, he added, “What? They no use it. What they gonna use it for?”

I regret not having my camera around, so that I may eternalize the image of his beautiful talent.

Christopher told me today that he and his friend found an apartment. I am very happy for him, and I hope all goes as he plans it. He showed me some of the pictures he took of the place, and it is a very beautiful dwelling. The view is spectacular- when you open the front door, you see the lake shore. The picture he showed me was of that very view, with the sunset gleaming between the shadowy trees, echoing off the glowing surface of the water.

October 17, 2008

Milkshakes, and a Quick Thanksgiving Update

Filed under: Uncategorized — katacomb @ 11:14 pm

Mmm.. I absolutely love milkshakes. Everytime there are bananas in the house, I always end up making one in our noisy blender. I add some frozen strawberries, and 2 teaspoons of vanilla. Yummy!

Speaking of yummy, I must throw all my  Thanksgiving pictures up! I was in a terrible mood for the entire week, but now that it’s over and I’m (mostly) back on track, I feel refreshed. My college life has been a dreadfully lonely one so far, so I look forward to being around people, even family. I also love recieving emails from a certain special someone, because I miss her terribly. Something about hearing anything come from her mind lifts my mood sensationally.

Mama did an awful lot of baking, and I truly appreciate all her hard work. She is so talented. She never has a clue that I care for her so very much, because I must confess I give no evidence of it.

We are trying to economise over here, in our chaotic home.  Christopher needed his clothes dried. Upon learning that the dryer is off limits, he put together an odd contraction in which to dry his clothes with. He was there at Thanksgiving afterall. I was so glad.

Tomorrow my grandfather wants to take Stephanie and I to the bank to make an account for us in his name… All for education. He would not heed my protests, insisting that because he could not support his own children’s education, he will support his grandchildren’s. I think it has really helped me in life to have such a spirited grandfather, who always speaks of dreams and success. It is truly hard to stay miserable around him.

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