post-hiatus

Jul. 5th, 2011 04:42 pm
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
I have been quiet for very long. There was a reason: I was waiting.

tldr: I got into grad school, in FINE ARTS! )

Lesson learned? Follow your dreams. Minimal level of required caution is good, but don't let that keep you away from where you are supposed to be going. To me what I loved doing most: being creative, thinking about what is pretty was always a childish fancy I was trying hard to grow out of. I never considered I could be talented enough to do art or that beyond certain level of basic ability the rest has more to do with what you really work hard for than what you do easily. Only it cost me 4 years of my life and walking to the edge of insanity to understand that one.

Okay rant over on this topic. I'll get the rest of life updates now soon once I calm down. I hope all of you are having a wonderful day.
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
Oh God, can my mind please shut up at 4am in the morning so that I can go to sleep? Instead it goes on strangest tangeants... There must be something about fullmoon that reveals the truths, not allow veils and illusions even for the sake of comfort, for... what else do we have in this existence except temporary comfort and reprieve from the inevitable truth?

I knew about death and was fascinated about it since a very early age. I think the distinct realization that I could go on without dying terribly due to an astronomical event (e.g. meteor hitting the earth) was a miracle came around the age of 9. It was the promt end of my fascination with astronomy. It just scared the shit out of me to realize that I could be taken by a black hole in next moment before I even know what hit me. The idea that people died really hit me much later. Surprising since I lost two grandfathers at ages of 6 and 12. First I was too small to get it. Second, well I took it VERY well until I started missing him few months later. Oh,and that isolated break down when I suddenly thought of the possibility of my maternal grandmother  
dying and started to cry in the middle of the school next day. Even then it was a distant thing, and I got over pretty quickly.

I think it hit me partially after the 99 earthquake. During the couple of years after that I would have trouble sleeping. My fear was more along the lines of forgetting something horrible happening to me or dying while sleeping. The idea that, I might not wake up next day made me clutch my quilt and not panic every time I blink. I wonder how I got sleep at all.

Then I had a dream, where I had already died. I realized all there was when it was over was sorrow. No fear. End of panics, for a while.

During last few months, I am guessing due to both of my grandmothers slowly failing before my eyes, the death has been in my mind a lot. I couldn't figure out why I was scared so much of dying when I knew when it came to it, shock wouldn't let me feel anything. Whatever is after it doesn't matter. It finally occured to me is not the idea of dying. Not a grim reaper getting my soul or whatever you believe in. It is the same old fear of going into nothingness. Everything that has a beginning has also an end. Our lives end, we dissapear but it doesn't end there. There is no way out of it. Even through we could cheat dying of old age there still is the fact that the earth will go sour after a time period, if we don't get screwed by a rock hitting us, or kill ourselves through messing with environment, sun will eventually run out of fuel and dissapear, and even universe will go where it came from one day. Nothing lasts forever. It just doesn't. Whatever forever means. Dying seems like such a small world compared to the futility of all...

The end result is that, I can feel the clock ticking. Like one day my grandfathers weren't there anymore, one day soon my parents will be the oldest generation in the family. One day again too soon, my parents will die. I guess what bugs me more is the change that keeps ripping away things that defines home for me. Home doesn't feel like home, routines of childhood now feels like a magic trick that was spoiled. Things doesn't stay same even when you hold on to them and time goes faster and faster. Ticking. I can hear the tick-tocks sometimes, almost literally.

It just seems like, it all is pointless, whatever we do... Why do we do what we do when it isn't going to matter 200 or a 1000 years from now on?  What is the point of existing when you know you are going to vanish eventually?

and what is the point of being able to think, to be aware of this fact?

it feels like everything of this world is illusion, shadows, not real. (and yes, I sort of am paraphrasing a philosopher with this but for the life of me I can't recall the name at the moment) the problem is, when everything that consists your life is exposed as a fraud, including its mere existence, how do you go about finding a reference point? Or how do you deal with the utter nonsense of it all? Cause you have to go on with life.

How to make peace with it?

Most people seems to be adept at the art of denial at some level, not sure why but I don't come with that failsafe. It results with strange issues like this.
I can't ignore the time pressing, that all too soon I will be gone. Most people with this knowledge seem to be happy with it. 23 years old, 8 years after I first lost sleep over it, I still don't know how to deal with it when it presses on me.

June

Jul. 2nd, 2007 06:11 pm
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Anita Blake)
Quiet... sleep... silence -mental one, the other one is pretty imposible in a city such as Istanbul.

self facing honesty full of angst )

Cards say I am not out of woods yet. (yes, I caved in and looked a couple of times) At least they stopped showing Death, like they did twice this year. And the outcomes once in a while shows a card that aren't reversed. I still don't know what death was standing for. I know one of them was for family. I am starting to suspect that the unsuspected kickin-n-screamin change happened at one place I really didn't expect. I changed, from inside. Now I am left yet again with putting the pieces together.
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
whatever thesis work I have can and will have to wait until tomorrow. I am too busy enjoying my first wacom tablet. It cost me something scary (I am a finaid student afterall) but it is so worth it.

Finally, an end to constant pair of having to draw and scan each time I need to sketch something. Bonus is that it really do seem to help my poor right wrist as well. So yay!

In other news. My room is a tiny bit less messy. As in it is not a health hazard anymore and I can move from bed to table and to door without having to find tiny islands of flat spaces. I spent last 3 hours cleaning and reorganizing some stuff So now the books borrowed from the library have their own space on my desk. My bag from my trip to chicago is finally emptied,. suff is moved around so that no food is toiling around on the floor anymore and my board is actually hung. I did some experiments with masking tape and things seem to hold well so far.

Pictures taken with webcam. )

I also put on my contact lenses first time in months. (considering what the lack of contacts and glasses do to my eyes, another improvement) Yay Except my eyes are not happy from the screen + contacts combination at the moment.

Also, I now can use basic Latex.

I say today is a success. :)
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)

It was a quiet passage, this switch from 2006 to 2007. It still does not feel real. It is like I am still there in the past. However, I think it is normal. I still feel I am hiding a little. Looking at the world through a tiny crack. I am not sure where to start. So much left to do. I have made some new years resolutions. I already changed my mind about some some came after the actual screaming.

My aim for this year is to be stronger. The more I look into myself, the more I wonder where that independent creative girl went to. This is what Wellesley did to me. I keep looking back and asking for assurance. I am scared of doing less then perfect work, of not fitting into the perfect box. This did not use to be the case. I wasn't this person that got stuck in few inspirations. Except I don't know how to do it. I don't remember how to be free, reckless and passionate. Yet I need to start somewhere. It feels like I am blankly looking for answers even for this. What happened to the ultimate problem solver? Too intimidated by her own inaction I guess. What do need to happen? Another earthquake? I feel old dammit. How can I remember how to be strong alone? How can I get my clarity back? Questions, so many questions? Now if only I could answer.I think it is my wish. On previous years I found that asking the question putting things into place somehow set things into motion.

Second aim is emotional. Reading through my journals was a revelation. It is like somewhere in february is when the real me shut off. Few very far in between honest entries I found were tagged as private, not just friends only. When did my journal became a report of academic junk? It feels like I lost my heart, that I lost my voice. I became this robot. Yet I know I cried a lot last year. I wrote it off as stress. I seemed all so strong all the way as my life fell apart. Worst of it all, I was in denial about what I felt. I tried hard to calculate what to feel, what to think. No more of this. I need to get my honesty back. Maybe I should try writing everyday? That would help? Or maybe I should start writing a paper journal for a while. That measure usually helps getting my voice back.

I will start with honesty right away.

I just caught myself about to write "I want to remember how to be happy be passionate". It is not true however. I want to want to remember, through what I want is getting into grad school. This scares me. It seems such a concrete thing. Also I am very much scared it will not happen because I want it. When you want something this much it does not happen. This was my experience, so I do not want to think about it. I pretend that I do not think about it. I write as if I do not think about it, but I do. All of my waking hours are spent thinking about it. What is wrong with wanting to go to graduate school? I feel I am not worth it, it doesn't make sense but I do feel this way. Also, I feel that the method is becoming the aim. I forget all peripheral meaning around things. I am so determined to prove and explain why I want to go to graduate school that it sounds fake. I repeated my arguments so many times that I do not even know if they are real anymore. I cannot remember what I liked. It is like this bleak world in here. I cannot edit myself. I need to stop doing so because at this point I am so far off the place I am meant to be that I do not even know who I am. It is scary, it is frustrating. I need to remember who I am, and why I am going somewhere before I get lost under this americanized career ideals pile.

autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
I do not think I ever hit such a deep end of pit. Not depression or anxiety wise but as in emotions and self deprecation. I sit down here in my misery, instead of doing real work which by the way I really should.

On one hand I know I take things too personally. 11 people applied for the fellowship, 1 or 2 people got it. I even didn't made to the top 7 or something that was interviewed. This is a contest among bestest of bests. I shouldn't feel bad about it. Sometimes we all lose. Yet I can't feel it. It feels like a blow, another confirmation that I deserve nothing. It is just, I feels like all I have been doing for last year was losing. Doors shut, more doors shut. My GPA could have hit the roof last semester but you know what it doesn't change things. It doesn't change the fact that I landed at the bottom of a deep pit on sophomore year. 6 months of slippery slope, since then I try to prove myself it is going to be like before. Easy. Or was everything this easy? Maybe they just were for the first half of my first year in college. Now I just feel more tired. Challenges are not fun when you keep failing them.

I think I am just scared. This thesis means to me, going to school means to me. Yet, what is it that I do wrong? Why can't I explain myself? Why simplest things becomes matters of life or death? I am officially worse writer than 2/3rd of the population who applies to grad school. A grad student who can't write. A researcher who agonizes more over explaining then doing her research. How can I make people understand when I am totally incapable of explaining? I am thinking, it used to be easier. I used to be able to explain things. I remember writing B range or even A range papers. I remember writing stories, journals and now?...

Maybe it isn't just writing either. Today a fellow classmate said to me. Go to the media lab and talk to them if they don't answer your emails. I was appalled by the idea. How can I dare to go there without an appointment to disturb someone's time. Wouldn't that be inappropriate? Her answer was "what is there to lose?". It struck a chord in me. My first thought was toomany things to lose. Reputation. Respect. Then I remembered the times I would have said the exact same thing. "What is there to lose". I used to say that, in high school. Before I had been fitted into my own box of Wellesley geek squad with her grandiose opinion of herself. There was a time I could go directly, to a professor and scold them that they were doing the wrong thing. When I say scold I mean literally. With one exception all of my high school teachers would listen. There was a time when I didn't try to conform. Then now I just thought. That was when I could write. I feel like I am caught in a web of over thinking. I ask everyone's advice. I try to please so many people that I start ignoring my health not even doing stuff but worrying over stuff. I am a true fan girl. I worship my professors. Not as in, obsessing way but academically. I used to be strong. I used to be myself.

I want that back.

Stress

Oct. 3rd, 2006 05:43 pm
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
I change my previous statement,that I am going to get an heart attack or an ulcer.

We all will, because of this thesis thing.


I feel bad when I see my so calm friends suddenly freaking out. At least phases are not same, so we keep taking turns calming each other....

Scrisper

Oct. 1st, 2006 11:53 pm
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
Sky is steel blue with smoky gray patches here and there. It rains and drizzles alternately, has been for all day. Earlier I was outside. It was dusk I think. There was the pond, so still, contrasting and reflecting the tormented clouds above. Trees were nearly black in semi darkness. I stood in the pathway with my black umbrella, twirling in my hand, and stared at the upward. It was one of those moments. Like I had forgot something. Something about sounds, smell of dampness and wind... I was supposed to remember something. It was just at the edge of my mind. I couldn't catch it. Past? Future? Something else? It was as if I should be knowing something, recognizing something but I could not. I thought of fantasy lands, I thought of childhood. Nothing fit. What was it? A past vision becoming real? A foreshadowing of future? I continued my way, hyper-aware of everything around me. With my umbrella in hand, I danced in steps, well few seconds. I had work to do.

It is funny how these moments creep in when I am immersed so deeply in real world; funny how real life creeps in when I try to hold to them. They are ephemeral, you have to notice quickly, live and let go. Move on. Like a dot connecting two segments. Clean simple... or not.

I was reading last message from Tarik yesterday night. I am not sure what made me read it. I have been trying to not think too deeply about that particular subject or confuse myself. It was about this thing called star child. Anyhow for some reason my slight doubts about him, thesis and generally my chaos of life, I just decided to do a tarot reading. Of course for lack of tarot cards in this place (not that I would know how to read them). I decided to use one of this websites I used to go to. I chose a random deck that I felt would be good, chose Celtic cross.

The resulting set of cards was one of the spookiest thing I ever experienced in my life. I don't trust tarot or anything supernatural much. I did the error of depending on them once and it is a recipe for disaster. They are things to be used sparingly. It is not about foreseing the future. It is about making a connection. Otherwise, cards, sticks and stones: they mean zilch.

I understand that now. I knew what every single card meant and god knows I am not stretching things because what last two cards said about the future didn't make sense logically and honestly scared me out of my wits. It certainly was not what I wanted to see, or even what I imagined I could see in my worse fears. Even for a logical person seeing a tower at ultimate outcome place is disturbing. I just knew that message was true, that I was meant to see it.

Today I am thinking. I know I need to stop double guessing myself, and burn my brain out with what other people think of me. I literally over analyze every step I take and this just cannot continue. I don't need cards to tell me that. I know it, intellectually at least. Not to mention the number of people who told me this about various subjects. At the same time, I know I am not as stable as I want to believe. I am in constant high stress, adrenalin mode since the summer. Next deadline, next challenge, one more, another more. This is the rate I usually do a finals week, then crash a month afterward. Here I am, at fifth week of it. More, if you count pre-traveling stress. I will not forget I needed to get a mild sedative because my heart was racing the day before my plane flight. If my mind doesn't fall apart, my body will. It already does actually. I have been sick for past week and I am honest enough to admit it might be sheer exhaustion. I remember one moment, being just unable to write a simple email.

I am running myself to ground but world doesn't care if I am dying, if I need to stop and wait. I need to write my proposal, email people, do my homework, be the extracurricular goddess. Hell even be at a concert and show at exact same time apparently because no one can change a damn date. World goes diagonal sometimes, but I just ignore it until it straightens again and somehow, everyone deals with it just fine.

It wears on me through. All the resistance inside, challenge outside... I am stretched too tight. Smallest touch feels like a blow. A constructive criticism of what I could do better (which I appreciate), a smallest memory of a silent disagreement with a professor, a french vanilla smoothy missing its banana brings me close to tears. I remember sobbing while IMing a classmate about how my thesis doesn't get approved. Not fast enough, not good enough, not trustworthy enough. Nothing is enough or so it seems. My mind turns ugly. Insecurities resurface. I lash out or overdo the niceties to prevent myself from accidentally doing so. Yesterday I wrote a 2 page long email to a professor to ask a simple recommendation.

It just seems to be all coming crashing together last 3 months. Thesis, grad school, current professors, former professors, old friends, new friends, Adam, Tarik, GLOW, my grandmother's illness, trouble of my country, old fears of disappointing, new fears of my fears of disappointing.

And me, who desperately wants to hide under the bed and sleep for a century or have someone to tell me everything is going to be alright. I used to talk about everything to my parents and that would help. I don't do it anymore. Not their business, not my business. I cannot lean on my friends when I am busy encouraging them to lean on myself. Besides people don't like someone leaning on them. Only so much until friends get bored. Professors? Never in life. How would I ever show someone who will ultimately judge what I am any weakness if I can help it.

I try to hold on to strength and dignity. For everyone else does, for the other option is to be that shrill ugly little girl that everyone laughs at. I don't want to go back. Ever again. So I thicken the walls, and lash out, stay aloof. I lose my synchronization with the life around me. I can't help it for I am too busy patching leaks.
autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
strange dreams of friends far away having dinner parties and college professors giving homeworks that consist of watching certain TV programs. I hopelessly try to understand what my mind is trying to tell me. At least with that nightmare where I was in the airport, 2 hours left to the flight, having just realized I didn't have my passport or ticket with me, I knew where it came from.

In either case a count down both to the end of my 21th circling around the sun and to a trip across ocean with the new security insaneness. Guess which one is worrying me more. I bought myself a new suitcase. It should take the edge off. For having to sit on a suitcase to close it is never a good sign. Not my fault, I one of my pieces was slightly larger then a carry-on. Hence the sitting...

I'll be 22 years old. Sounds so big. Like an adult. Not like a barely new adult, but like someone who should be advancing already in life, settling down and all that. I don't feel like it. I feel like I am just starting. (well I am: to grad school if I am lucky, to work if not). I can't imagine myself marrying for example. Engaging maybe (Not that I have a boyfriend but as a concept). Kids? No way... Yet around me I see people younger then me, marry, start to work full time, have kids. They already stop exploring, they already start thinking that they've had excitement of their lives. They want some consistency. I cannot even imagine it. I've just started having the fun both in personal life and academically. I still have a lot to try before saying my years of youth is over.

I think it might be that this won't change. Not the family and marrying part, that will change, and is already veeery slowly changing, but the fact that I don't want to settle down into a routine where next 40 years will be spend. I feel young and maybe, just maybe it is not that bad of a thing that I won't feel my whole life is over when I am 30. Life at academia is often like this. Staying young, learning new things. It takes a lot of work, you cannot go cozy. You need to write more, research more, find new things. Some people hate it. Some people love it. Me goes to the second category.

Also I am surprised to realize people don't just stop growing at a certain age and stay there for the rest of their lives. I always thought my parents or their friends etc was same. World seems to stay still around you when you are a kid. (maybe because a kid grows faster compared to the change around her) Then eventually you see people come and go. A new cousin, a grandfather dies. You realize things change but still you don't get the subtle evolution. The more I get older the more I realize adults are just you know people like me. You don't come to this plateau where you say: okay I've finished education, I became what I am. Only minor changes from now on. Or for example you don't just quit the whole life and start living for your kids or for work. Adults still have their passions, interests hobbies.

Maybe part of the issue is what I saw in Turkey as a kid. This culture of "everything ends the moment you start working" mentality. That people are empty working shells. It kills the persons inside puts people in the wait sort of. I just hope that the course I am choosing will be less monotone.

Okay, I went off the track again. I know I did this annual monologue a little ahead of schedule this year but since I'll be busy packing on the day, I hope you all will understand ;P

Whatever off we go. *click*

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autumnus: A purple monochrome portrait of Zoe from Dreamfall, with drawn stars in background and "the Dreamer" written on bottom. (Default)
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