I feel like I don't have enough people in my life.. who really want to know what I'm about.. 
who want to what makes me work.. you said you did, in so many words.. that makes me smile.. 

the scars are fading..

I noticed today that the scar you left me with is almost gone.. I don't see it when I look in the mirror.. I am not reminded of you when I look at my own face as I once was
as I no longer ache with the lack of you when I lay down at night

I wish you could look at the random assortment of pictures I've reposted on my blog and understand who I am and how I feel about you. 

this is my china

yi ge ren wine drankin..
my room. alone.
music.
late night//early morning skype calls
thinking about dancing in wudaokou while dancing with my mirror
wishing those boys that compliment my big eyes and western beauty were around now..
hoping for new excitement tomorrow
but happy with my private non nationalist party

don't miss it. don't miss you.

today, like everyday I spent a few moments missing.
missing him and her.. and them.. and all of it.
but for the first time, I realized, I didn't miss you.
which makes me sad. . because you're disappearing..
BUT
but I didn't miss you ... so I'm more free than I was yesterday.. and with that thought I'm more and more content every second that you're fading away..

Sometimes I write as if I were in the grave..
thinking about what others will read when I am gone.. when they are grieving..
after the grief has subsided..
I think about what I will have wanted to have made up about myself..
What do the people want? "When do they want it?"

my words will all sound different in your heads when I'm dead

been here a year now.. longest I've ever been away from anywhere
My life is so different but yet much the same..
But I think I feel more.. I cherish more.. I miss so much more..

Hearing my father's voice never used to make me want to cry.

You made Beijing feel whole.
We were those people on the subway, on the bus, in the restaurant, on the street..
People looked, gawked... because of our smiles..
and our complete disregard for everything that wasn't us..

I felt childish, lost, happy, nervous and comfortable.. all reasonable and perfect.

你是我的小秘密.

Tonight sitting alone with a tiny bottle, and a numb heart.
I remember all those I've ever loved or felt close to..
all those that I am now so far removed from in various ways.
I have had so many good people come in and out of my life.
It's hard to know if they knew that I noticed.. I noticed their greatness.

I have no talent's, no special skills, not even any original hobbies..
But I can love. I can be there for you. I can notice you. I have noticed you. and I won't stop.

I miss so much and so often.

listening to Dan Magnum & Childish Gambino on a bus at 11:30pm at night somewhere in Beijing-
two days before my 28th birthday
having a fleeting moment of intense loneliness
wishing I was somewhere else but not knowing where it is that I belong anymore

28 lost and lonely in Beijing
should I write a shitty, cheesy classified ad.. a craigslist..

someone help
tell me what to do now..

I'm alone.

It's dark.

Three fingers on my right hand smell like cigarettes, even though I just washed them with soap.

My mouth tastes sickly sweet like the morning after binge drinking, even though I brushed my teeth twenty minutes ago.

There's a single tear starting to drip from my right eye where it's been welling up for the last five minutes, even though I'm not crying.

The music stopped playing, even though I didn't want it to.

loss

I can't help but want to talk to you..

I feel like it's all I've ever done..

all I've ever known..

every feeling I have

I want to gift to you even when I know they're not the kinds of things people want.

you used to say it didn't matter what other people liked.. you would take everything..

now it's all broken.

and so am I

just breath

it won't die if you let it breath

loaded

there is no resolution.. no easy one.

but it's the tiniest bit easier to make a brash decision when you're not around.. the trigger seems lighter when I've had a few and I don't have to see your face..

...

my hands are covered in gun powder.

I already regret even holding the gun

infected

I would pull the trigger..

But I think you would respect me more if I did.. and I don’t want your respect..

I’ve only ever wanted your compassion. Your temper.. I want you to feel something.

Why won’t you feel anything for me..

I’ve loved you, I love you. MORE than anything I’ve ever cared about before.

I’m scared I will break without your stoicism.. No matter how you treat me the gun has always went off so many times before.. you’ve just never seen the wounds. But if you walk away I will die from gangrene ..

you’re presence has kept the infection at bay..

it's hard to imagine a time when I won't love him

stories

She was the kind of person that found relevant and identifiable material in every song she heard, movie she watched and book she read. She always felt like everything could be about her life, no matter the story line. Her mood was so shifty and her dreams likely to change on a whim that she never felt tied to a specific personality type or plight in life. She found ways to relate with every archetype she came across, no matter gender, age or status. I still haven’t decided if this made me think she was sad or interesting.

When I first came across her she was with friends in the window booth of a small hole in the wall pizza place that had a rock and roll motif. I noticed her immediately upon entering, not because she was especially stunning but because she looked out of place. I had only been in this town for a short while, but long enough to notice that this town had a shortage of genuine people, people who are not living to impress others with their stories.

death becomes them

Even if we were to ever be in some friendship again, It can’t be this one, therefore this one is over and dead.

life is simple in words..
and actual actions never mean anything..

all struggle with what it means to live and love..
but it still seems easier for some..

at the point of nothing but living..
wanting nothing but hard truth..
and still it's a struggle for honest people..

give a fucking reason why it's all worth it..

i know i didn't have to break my door in.. but i felt out of place with you.

it's so hard..
i know what advice i would get..
what advice i would give..
i know what you would prefer
i know what's best for myself..
but i just can't do any of it..
i know i should.. i know i must..
it just hurts so bad.. to even think of it..
to even IMAGINE it.. it hurts..

today

do you think anyone has ever been here..

with you. the one that could only be the one.

has it ever happened that someone was so desperate to live next to,

to breath in the scent of their beloved everyday, while that beloved has since lost all sentiment

for me.

do you think anyone has been this miserable..

pretending everyday that friendship is all i need from you.

pushing away the feelings, heartache and madness day after day

smiling, masking all my hopes, finding solace in the prospect that someday i won't have a choice,

that someday you'll be done with this friendship or that you'll learn the truth and run..

for now, though, i wallow in your smile, your mannerisms.. your quirks.

basking in trivial day to day tasks with you

clinging to any affection you give me

choking on whatever attention i get from you

a look, a petname, a morning cuddle

actions that you don't give a second thought to

they mean the world to me

you mean the world to me.

this is serious. i'm the only one torturing myself.

jumbled thoughts

i wish you would come home just so i can see the look in your eye

so i can read your heart by your melted face

my feelings....

anomosity unattended becomes a dangerous weapon.

i miss you when you're mad at me.

it's the saddest part.

someday we think it all may be better, someday we say it will be stress free and easy

it's hard to imagine that day will ever come

home is where your heart was

in this tiny home with all our books, our clothes, our things
we share so much space, we share so much time, we share so much
we love so much
so much that it's all over, there's so little room and so many emotions,
it can get crowded
over time, it's less about the love and more about expectation
sensitivity has become a problem,
with so much sprawled out, of you, of me..
it's easy to trip over feelings, walk on things you can't see,
insecurties you didn't know were kept there, assumptions you didn't know were made
it's easy to fail, it's easy to hurt, it's easy to forget there ever was love at all
maybe we need a bigger home

today a fortune cookie told me I need "depart not from the path which fate has you assigned"
..well how the fuck am I suppose to know which is the assigned path?

you were right, one should never compare pebbles to mountains..
it's just not fair.. and there will always be a bigger pile of rocks no matter who's doing the charts

it's exhaustive and upsetting.. how you always know what to say..
how you seem to be right most of the time, and yet you never gloat
without effort you have all the answers except those to the questions i will never ask..

however comforting some might find sound advice, i some days want to hold sand whilst looking at Everest and ask why.