who

It’s during arguments with him that I can see how selfish, self-absorbed, petty, immature and spiteful I can be and I hate it. I think the amount of self-hate I feel in those moments only worsens things.

I’d love to be the totally chill girl with the tomboy attitude, who lets things go easily, maintains a cool temper and shrugs things off. But I’m not, and I never will be. I will over-analyze every last detail to the death, and I do this is because I need to know the truth for myself and believe it before I can begin to move on at all.

Most of all, I need to believe that you love me as much as I love you, that you think about holding my waist as often as I miss nuzzling your cheek, that you anticipate time with me as much as I daydream about our future, that you would not know what to do if you ever lost me.

nightmares

The past two nights, my dreams have been filled with nightmares that all revolve around a vengeful Mother Nature. Two nights ago, I dreamt I was back in Cape Cod with the W girls, except the flat expanse of endless beach resembled the Bahamas. The girls were exploring the fine sand while I was (of course) taking pictures of a wall of sea-green tide. Somehow, it had swelled up to the size of a 3-story cliff, and without warning, began to crash down on all three of us. We survived it but the fear I felt as I realized in the dream that it was going to come down was overwhelming, and very, very real.

Then last night, I dreamt I was at home, except somehow our house had turned into a Southern-style ranch with a large front porch. The weather forecast had said it was going to rain, but I was looking towards the door where bright sunlight streamed through and felt confused. All of a sudden, it was as if someone shut off the sun – dark clouds rolled in, and strong gusts of wind began tearing down street lights, electrical wires, and the roof over the front porch. My parents and I watched in horror as I asked them what would happen if the roof ripped off, as it surely seemed that way from how the wind was attacking everything else around us.

I wonder what this all means.

180

A few months ago, I stumbled upon tumblr.com and loved the interface of the ‘Silo’ theme (by paulgiacherio) so much I considered setting up an account  just so I could view my posts in neat 3×3 boxes. I wasn’t sure what to post about since I’ve started and abandoned so many blogs before, but I figured since wordpress was my (angry) outlet, tumblr should be something more positive.

So I chose ‘citrongreige‘ as my username since my favorite colors right now are citron and grey (in French, because it’s my favorite language and also one of the most beautiful Balenciaga colors ever), and just started posting random photos, quotes and design-related objets d’art that I enjoyed. Tumblr’s interface, which lets me post in just a few swift steps, worked so well for me that I didn’t notice my growing absence from here. But I’ve realized that in focusing my attention on the good, the happy, the beautiful – my mood, energy, and general outlook has been so much more positive in the past few weeks. It’s been such a noticeable difference which is strange why I haven’t noticed it until now, in retrospect. But I guess things are always that way, looking back with 20-20 vision.

This space can never be the same as citrongreige [since I actually write about real life and real life is not always "beer and skittles" (quote from Ann's mom... hahaha)], but I’m trying to make a real effort to lay low on the anger and ranting. Baby steps, right?

A quote now, from Oscar Wilde – the one that actually inspired the mood I wanted to set on citrongreige from the start:

“One should sympathize with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life’s sores the better.”