photos by Lesley Choa
Check out my Preggy pic.
Thank you Lesley for the photo and even if you beg to disagree, everyone else would believe me when I say that I look knocked up on this one.
It's the grey shirt I guess. That jacket, was a gift from my cousin Ate Kathleen and I finally had
the day to wear it. Thank you dearest cousin!
My wallpaper is of Zac Efron's black and white photo for DETAILS magazine and it haunts me, every single time I look at it of that Dries Van Noten jacket. I have to wait for th
e collection to hit stores before actually knowing the price. But I bet my pregnant photo on it that it would cost me my life and two more of my past lives for it. I'm quite cheap and the jacket's hell expensive. The best solution to owning one is to rob a bank. Up to now, I am in need of some good training. It'd be better if there would be anyone willing to steal me enough money for that Dries jacket and a Cartier. I'd be happy.
I need a haircut. The problem with my hairstyle is that it's meant to stay short. The moment it grows long and it starts looking like a huge paintbrush, it's off to my cutter. Somebody in school told me that my haircut looks expensive. Honey, an entire semester of readings cost more (wayyyy more) than my haircut. Believe me. I actually don't believe in expensive haircuts. Maybe that's because I couldn't afford them. You know me, I
don't believe things I couldn't touch. I'm laughing right now. Oh, you better check out Twitter. It's a jungle out there. Now, they're trending about me being pregnant (cause of the photo) and they're on a quest, looking for the baby daddy. I hope it's Steve Jobs, so I could get me that beautiful iPhone 4. Well, I do hope Jamie Gellor and her team find the father of my child. The last time I checked I was single, not having you-know-what with anyone and anything and I blame it on that grey t-shirt (which by the way is the most comfortable shirt in the world).
Off to deeper, less humorous and more sensible things. I've been deep into so much philosophical, inner world stuff lately that this certain thing had flown through my mind, courtesy of my Foundations professor. He had always moved me with the simple wisdom he shares in class. Surely, he leaves us all dumbfounded and soupy after an hour and a half of his class and the only thing to do right after is to fall asleep and let it sink in. He's fascinated me most about his view on life and death and truth and these things he got from reading so much...I like how he describes angels, spirits and God (of course God is of a way higher level) and how these beings and essences are all so complete in themselves that the only sound he could make is something like a "poof". It's a really beautiful class, probably the hardest, but you get your pain's worth when you study other subjects and when you look at your own life.
My favorite saying from him is that of flight. He asks us to explain flight and what it is exactly. Point is, since we did not make birds, we couldn't, in our humanness, truly understand what flight is. But we do try and understand it by reproducing it through airplanes and kites and hot air balloons. So, flight, is actually a movement forward, where the shape and contour of an object direct and fashion it's forward motion to lift the entire body up in higher spaces. Physics could tell you this. But that part about not knowing the essence of flight because we are human, any science won't ever be able to explain. Well, that really inspired me. It inspired me so much, I had been scribbling it in my head, on my wrist, on the corner pages of my wrinkled readings and just about anywhere. It had revealed so much about life and humanity and nobody would ever believe that it came from understanding a simple bird's natural capability to fly.
Like most of us, I have been silently tied down by whatever past and I told myself that before I turn 21 in a few months, I just have to slap myself awake and push forward (a tattoo as my own gift, perhaps?). And the best word that I could think of right now is "Lift". I've been so mad about the word lately, that I want it tattooed on my right wrist in beautiful cursive. You know how Freja Beha Erichsen (above) has her "float" on her neck, I want my "lift" on my wrist. If it's basing it on Dr. Mariano's beautiful lecture, I don't want to fly at all...Because we never could. All we really are capable of is one, perfect lift.