Break the glass, crack a smile.

Confession #21

stephaniearndt — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 04:28:59 +0000

All blocked up. Thanks, monotony.

Backyard tourist

stephaniearndt — Tue, 09 Jun 2009 09:56:41 +0000

Ciao, be a good girl while I’m gone!

It’s very temporary, I’m a tourist in my own backyard.

Confession #20

stephaniearndt — Mon, 08 Jun 2009 04:17:51 +0000

A blue ribbon fading hysterically.

Mal du pays

stephaniearndt — Wed, 27 May 2009 14:39:00 +0000

The term nostalgia (derived from the Greek words nostos meaning “homecoming” and algos meaning ”pain”) was coined by a Swiss doctor named Johannes Hofer in 1688. He introduced nostalgia or mal du pays (homesickness) to explain a sometimes fatal condition known as mal du Suisse or Schweizerheimweh (Swiss illness), the yearning of Swiss mercenaries in France and Italy for their homeland. Nostalgia was considered a legitimate medical condition until the 1870′s.

Lately I’ve been slightly nostalgic, incorporating my past into my current daily routine. I’ve been re-watching, re-reading but also re-inventing; I try to keep a balance so that I don’t get lost in that grade school buzz. It really is a sickness, once the bug is planted it is difficult to escape the pull. I daydream that one day, when I am older and have successfully achieved some of what I hope to accomplish, I can look back and reminisce in every novel, every song, every film that has reached me at the various junctions of my life.

Confession #19

stephaniearndt — Tue, 26 May 2009 18:19:42 +0000

I always say yes. This is my tragic flaw, or what Aristotle referred to as hamartia in his work Poetics. Just like Macbeth’s vaulting ambition and Hamlet’s inability to act ultimately brought about their demise, my hyper-agreeability will be my downfall.

Don’t you realize that you are God?

stephaniearndt — Sat, 23 May 2009 05:13:11 +0000

“All is well, practice kindness, heaven is nigh.”

-Jack Kerouac, Visions of Gerard

I’ve always been infatuated with Kerouac’s Buddhistic reflections (“That … there seems to be a world, is hugely more interesting than what … might happen in it”). Disregard the normative, read some Kerouac other than On the Road (yes, it exists)!

So how should I presume?

stephaniearndt — Thu, 21 May 2009 05:36:19 +0000

“I have measured out my life with coffee spoons,”

-T.S. Elliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

This particular line has been sitting heavily on my mind lately. I feel as if it is blatantly understated, disillusioned, lacking any sort of spontaneity, but grossly relatable. Perhaps it is the monotony and the precision; I could measure my life in pencil shavings, cigarette ashes, jaywalking tickets. To measure is to give value in relation to some other attribute or phenomenon. We use measurement to realize that what would seem intangible otherwise, but are measurements simply excuses?

So how should I presume?

Hush, baby baby baby

stephaniearndt — Tue, 19 May 2009 04:56:02 +0000

A secret is the heaviest thing in the world. A burden and a pleasure in every sense; it is abrasive, yet placid on the surface. I am not blind, nor am I immune. I am only human.

How to marry a millionaire

stephaniearndt — Mon, 18 May 2009 02:43:01 +0000

Mismatch.

Miss Match.

Confession #18

stephaniearndt — Thu, 14 May 2009 14:59:03 +0000

Empty as a pocket with nothing to lose.