Random Thought

The saying, "You are what you eat" is now outdated.

It is now officially, "You are how you dress."

*rolls eyes.

You know, when I look back at this quote, I sound like a whiney teenager who has just been dissed by some popular kid and is venting her anger out upon her blog. Quite frankly, it makes me sound like a total nerd.
Let me elaborate upon it, please read if you have nothing better to do, I'm writing because I don't.
Let me be the first to admit that I am vain. I do indeed suffer from that particular sin, maybe not to such a ridiculous degree as some people, I'm not in love with myself, I love myself, but am not in love with myself. I like my body, I like looking acceptable, I'm not a fanatic about clothing nor do I stress out over eating a bit too much dessert. To tell the truth, I enjoy eating, but I am a fanatic over being physically fit. I would never want to be weak or fat (no offence to those who live under those catagories, I have nothing against you, you don't disgust me in any way, but that's just not for me). Let me reiterate that I am both vain and not a fanatic over clothing. There's nothing wrong with wearing comfortable clothing once or twice a week, but beware, how you dress instantly makes an impresion upon people. How often have you seen movies in which the nerd is taken out of his/her normal clothes, made up, and all of a sudden, (s)he's a babe? Same person, different clothes, there you are.
You Are How You Dress.
Oh, and other people's hair does bother me. I'd rather you be a fat slob than have greasy stringy hair, and I don't care who knows it. If you do, put it up in a ponytail, cut it, wash it, do something with it.
It's gross.
Sorry.
All well, goodnight!

P.S.-a quick mention of the entry below, random stories float in my mind all the time, events take place that spawn anything from long adventures to quick little pieces like the one below. I usually lack the discipline to sit down, collect my thoughts and type them out; that particular one was spawned from a beautiful night sky.

So Serene She Was Almost Transparent,

So Serene She Was Almost Transparent, Ready to let go and float away into the night. Ready to become one of those angelic tears that shine mournfully at night against the dark velvet blanket covering the heavens.
That's what he saw the first time he gazed upon her. The first time he glimpsed her pale face. That's how he remembered her, and that's what pulled him to her, to follow her, to watch her, to think of her as he had seen her then.
Calm, thoughtful, ready to let go of all Earthly ties and float into that oblivious abyss.
She was quite different, although only those who watched her when she thought she was alone would know that. Only to him, was this known.
To all others, she was like any other foolish girl, silly, flighty. Seemingly easy to get worked up into a rant about things she really knew nothing about.
He could see through it. One minute watching her as she really was, when she was alone, was enough to dispel any doubt that she was in any way childish or ignorant. Although truly, she was never alone...he was always there, watching from the shadows, smirking whenever she caught herself doing something silly, and then mocking herself for doing it. Studying her depressed silences. She was sad, she was lost, but she wasn't confused, nor was she blind to her faults and depression.
He knew she knew.
It was in her eyes.
It was in her stance.
It was even in her walk: the way she floated in a contemplating gate around the house, treading softly on her toes, head tilted in a 25* angle. Eyes distant and looking past the mundane household objects for something to occupy her ever dwindling time.
Something that would capture her heart and her mind and her body, completely and undividedly.
She wanted for something.
Something different than what most people had.
She wanted life!
That's what he saw in her eyes, the need to live.
That is what truly drew him to her, he felt her eyes mirror his own soul.
She understood what he did, that all of what most people called living was really just a shallow shadow of what people could live. People lacked real purpose, life has been devalued, no one worries that it, that life, that all that they have, or want, or need, could be snatched from their weak and mortal finger at any time, leaving them bereft of anything save hope.
She wanted to hope, but was afraid. He watched her watch others quietly, studying the faces of her family, searching for that hope in their eyes, searching for life in their eyes.
Searching for that ultimate realization that their life is incomplete and lacking purpose. That without the threat of death, which provides hope, there is no life.That without the purpose to survive, without the independence it takes to wake yourself up, there's no hope for anyone.

He once heard her utter, "Maybe they are wiser than me, to not think about such things, to not wonder what is missing...............They certainly seem happier than me."

Tsk Tsk little pixie he thought you know that's not true, you know that their happiness is simply an illusion.

Memory

So many thoughts have been buzzing around in my head lately, but as soon as I sit down to type them out, they all dissapear....
Bother.....
Let us see........something profound I think, if only my thoughts hadn't fled me.....

Well, aren't I just a silly little girl?

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Well....It's bee 5 days since I sent this post to drafts I'm still not quite sure what I'll do with it....

I was thinking earlier tonight ( I know, me thinking, shocking isn't it?), anywho, I was thinking earlier tonight, wait, let me start from the beginning (Sorry, I'm rambling, and this is turning into a huge run-on sentnce right? )
O-K...So my grandparents are over right? Yes, they are; and I had just finished playing the piano for them and was looking at my grandfather. Then, I realized, I really didn't know what he looked like, and I studied his features, and they were..foriegn...for lack of a better word. He has always been more of a presence. He didn't seem any different than usual, it was just . . I was thinking, 'Here's this man, he looks the same as always, to me anyways, but this physical body is just incasing an ever-aging soul. He's getting older every day, finding new limitations to his physical body. He's having to face the thought of death. He doesn't seem to be any different then ever before, but, I've been alive for 16 years, he's getting old.' And as I gazed at him I realized I really didn't know his face that well, and then a depressing thought, occured: When he dies, as all of us will do eventually, I won't remember his face. I'll remember he was a big man, and I'll remember the way he made me feel, I'll remember the way his presence felt, but I won't remember his face, he'll turn into nothing more than a warm memory I'll have of a long ago past. I studied his face for a long time after those thoughts passed through my mind. He still doesn't seem all that different to me now, than he did when I was younger, though. I don't want to forget his face, his kind blue eyes, the way his hair curves (and he has a good head of hair, all of it his), his well perserved skin (barely any wrinkles on that man). *sigh*
I know you might be thinking, 'How on Earth could you forget your grandfather's face?!'
You have to understand, I don't remember things. I remember smells and feelings how bright the lighting is, or the mood of the room, but I dismiss,or I guess you could say take for granted, the things I see, so I don't remember them.
An Example If You Need One:

A few days after we moved into our new house last winter, I had all but forgotten our old house. Oh sure, if you brought up a certain memory I could recall it, but if I try to find one myself it eludes me. I moved from one house to another.

Simple as that.

I had always thought myself just well adjusted, accepting of change easily (something that used to be difficult for me, but a "talent" I fought with my subconsious for over the years). I never really think about the past, nor do I like to think about the future (something that is driving my parents crazy by the way). I always preferred living in the 'now' .
But tonight, thinking about it....thinking about my grandfather...
I don't know....

Will I..Or moreover: Should I fight for such things back?

Could I?

Is it really that important?

Is it a weakness to have such troubled memories floating around in my head, a streangth?

I guess balance is the answer to that question (quite frankly I think balance is the answer to all of life's problems.)

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Mememories are films about ghosts.

Not sure where I heard that from, but really...
How true is it?