You are viewing a read-only archive of the Blogs.Harvard network. Learn more.

the worser, the worst

Last week I fell into a frenzy of self-improvements. Not a second of my time was to be wasted–I saw a pre-med advisor, I finished 3 books, I practiced singing, I read the news, I browsed for next semester’s courses, I planned the next 4 years of my life for the 17th time. This week I am already burnt out. I can’t bring myself to pick up Lolita, which I started after the 3rd book, yesterday I walked out of lecture negative 3 minutes into the class and watched a movie instead. The novelty of relaxation and solitude has worn off.

Why does this website bid my username “howdy”?


I am no longer sticky, thank goodness.

I have just stepped out of the shower and put on a T-shirt. The occasional draft of air that drifts through the window is dense but marginally refreshing; tonight is one of the hottest nights I’ve encountered in Boston yet. My pride—that stubborn resolve to fashion myself in my own image—refuses to turn on a fan or turn off the lamp, even though it is rather late. Unfortunately (?), being constantly reminded of other people’s worth forces me to prove my own, mostly to myself. Therefore, I forego sleep for this odd type of self-improvement.

My legs are very smooth (I just shaved them); all the water has now entirely evaporated from my skin, contributing to the cooling effort. The necessity of my comforter, however, is still undeterminable. Fortunately, summer makes dealing with the unpleasant weather bearable, because there are so many fewer other things to deal with and bear.

This feeling of having spare resolve to bear and even seek out unnecessary in-comforts and inconveniences feels foreign. This, and the calm, empty space in my mind through which useless reflections or idle categorization sometimes trot leave me constantly guilty to the memory of frantic, self-serving efficiency in the hazy maneuvering of a traffic-jammed street. On foot, the freneticism of rush hour lane changes easily fade into a lazy country stroll.

Activities normally inaccessible tempt me in this bucolic lifestyle. I have the freedom to choose my multitasks, the luxury of thinking of others; sometimes, I even have the audacity to sit and do nothing but think, look, and feel. In the summer, relaxation feels less criminal.

My father says that this is the way life should be, but maybe that is because his is not. I hesitate to cast an inevitably embarrassing judgement call, and can only conclude that so far, this is only the way that this particular summer has proved to be.

On a similar note, I am 467 pages into “Anna Karenina.”

should i read “anna karenina”?

or just watch anime all day?

also, is it bad to be a superwimp?

i conform

copied from last blog:

i feel lame already.

new things in my life:

i got new shirt for $10 at the gap with kevin. he got plaid shorts.
i want to dye my hair purple. tisa recommended applying to be a hair model online to get practically free really trendy and high-end. i have done this. apply online that is.
i am living in leverett towers and its beautiful and sunny and i have no work.
i got caught sleeping over at kevin’s by some rando glee-club dude. no worries–only our feet touched.
i had first lesson with tom jones. he told me to quit callbacks.
kevin calls me tootsie pop
people i miss are on my mind and in the dominican republic/california/williamstown

i will post pictures maybe, but i’m staying at harvard. boring boring boring