tormented tonight by thoughts of europe and home

I feel so weird tonight. First I watch a movie about America, and then I watch a movie about Europe. The movie about America makes me scared, it excites me, it makes me feel very strange. It’s haunting. It’s like a horror without the horror. It’s so alien. This world of America is so incredibly alien to me.

And then the movie about Europe gives me peace, it makes me want to smoke cigarettes. But most importantly it makes me want to write and it makes me sad and confused. Is that what Europe is? A place to make me feel so strange. So confused, and yet at peace with myself and my thoughts. I identify with the character much better. That is how I feel there.

But then I think about where I would call home, and neither of those places speak to me as home. How did I lose myself, my identity? When people ask where I am from I don’t even know what to tell them. I say I am from Europe, but I am not really from Europe. I am not from here either. Not because I didn’t grow up here, but because I don’t see myself ever growing up here. I see myself living here but I never see myself as being American.

I am not European. I don’t have anything left there, and yet it calls me back all the time. I always feel miserable in Europe, and want to go back. But then I come back to America and for a while I am doing okay, but then I start missing Europe. But not missing any particular place or time or people. I just miss Europe as a concept, a 180 from America. Here everything is so normal at surface level and so abnormal when you dig deeper. There everything is so abnormal all the time that everything is liberated and therefore becomes normal, every-day. That is why I hate it there so much, because everything is so liberated that the feeling of freedom that people earn when they go to Europe is lost. The freedom is so mundane that it is not exciting any more.

Speaking of freedom, the country I come from has no freedom and never had. But it’s strange to me because I did grow up in freedom in a country that had or has none. Now that I come back to visit Russia I don’t understand it at all. It’s so bizarre and alien to me, because when I was growing up there it was different to me and I felt free. When I go to visit I feel anything but free. It’s like going to a different galaxy or something of that sort.

I could never love the country I come from, and I could never call it home.

I could never love Prague either, and I cannot see it as my home.

America is not my home either.

People say your home is where your heart is. Well my heart is either black or missing, or simply has stayed in my chest this whole time, these 22 years of my life. So is my home inside of me? But that doesn’t make sense because home is a place outside of yourself that makes you comfortable.

I guess I never feel quite comfortable.

I really want to go to Europe, especially tonight. It’s the movie I am watching and the agitated state I am in lately because I know I am going there soon. I am terrified, as always, but strangely every time I go there, during travel I feel numb, and the whole stay there makes me feel numb. Then towards the end I can’t wait to return to America, I stop sleeping and start day-dreaming and the whole travel back I am excited and agitated. But when I spend too long in America I think about Europe a lot. It’s as if it is some annoying twin that keeps telepathically tormenting me. Why can’t you just leave me alone, leave me be happy in America... no it won’t ever do that.

Some people are satisfied where they are. Some people move somewhere and get satisfaction from their new place. I have never felt such satisfaction.

thoughts thoughts thoughts

I am not proud of anything that I am:

• Russian / European / not American
• Vegan
• Ex-drinker
• Artist
• Writer
• Movie maker
• Good college student
• Only child
• Middle-class (I guess...?)
• Not married / have no children
• 22 years old

What I am proud of is the knowledge that I have gained so far.

For some reason today especially I felt sickeningly superior all day and it's really disgusting. I am not superior or inferior to anyone. I am who I am. But I don't think it's fair for anyone to judge my decisions, my "radicalism", my choices in life. I don't like people imposing their ideas on me, or assuming that I would be imposing mine on them.

monday

[I am gonna attempt to post one for every day this week]

Monday mornings. Things I hate:

1. Running out of hot water in the shower because I am so sleepy I don't notice how long I spend in it. Trying to wash off soap in the cold is a disgusting procedure.
2. Wanting to wear 10 sweaters after a cold shower, only to realize later you're way over-dressed for the weather and sweat in your 10 sweaters all day.
3. One part of me wanting to eat nothing at all and another part craving mountains of food.
4. Eyes being droopy.
5. Planning a great day ahead, involving coming to work early and getting things done. Then falling for my cat and spending all the time on tumblr with her on my lap until I absolutely must leave the house.

Things I enjoy:

1. Working only 2 hours and having work before class makes it seem minimal.
2. The start of the week. So many great days stand before me!
3. Organizing in my mind what painting and when I will do this week.
4. If I wake up before 9am, I like the feeling of not being rushed before work.
5. I keep writing "weel" instead of "week".

Tyler, the Creator and Salem make my day happieee =^.^=

i can't relax

Something really pissed me off today, or just lately.
How people say: take a day off, relax, take a day for yourself.
In all seriousness, I can't do that. I am here to live life. I can't take a day off to relax. I can't spend the evening/night in my pajamas surfing the internet looking at cats and reading funny articles. I can do it for maybe an hour but after that hour I am up and doing stuff. Even watching a movie is hard because I almost feel like I am wasting my life.
And perhaps there are people that can afford to waste their lives, but I am not one of them. I don't have a lot of time left to be the best artist that I can be. There will never be enough hours in a day to perfect myself to perfection.
I don't care if someone else is relaxing and stuff, because that's their life and their choice. But don't push your life advice on me. And more than that, don't fucking complain about how life sucks *tear* because *tear* you're running out of time. It's your goddamn fault: admit it. Live with it. Gah I don't know.

Why am I being mean? Why am I picking fights with people? Why why why.
I want to be a really nice person. But I feel like I am failing lately. I've disappointed myself in certain friendships, and certain friendships have disappointed me.
I hate liars. Don't lie please.
I hate ass-kissers. Stop kissing my ass, it's not pleasant.
I hate spineless creepy crawlies. Just get away from me ew.
I hate people with no personality.
I hate dramatic primadonnas unless they are trapped in the body of a cute black cat by the name of Panther.
I hate when people ask really dumb questions in class. I feel embarrassed for them.

And after all that, why did I eat three slices of bread at 1am???

Okay better

Yesterday was a bit of a low point. This morning I woke up, wrote my paper, wrote an artist statement (for like the 50th time), studied for a quiz and worked in my studio. I think it's the evenings that make one so upset.

I am not the first person to have noticed that. Especially if the days are especially sunny it makes you feel happier inside somehow, like as if sunshine comes from inside of you.

I read somewhere once that you get out of life what you put into the world. I don't know if it's true or not, but I like that phrase. It makes you want to do better things in life and be a better person to others. More polite, more caring, less judgmental.

Japan - I really want to go there.
It's infuriating how little people know about the world and how stupid they are. Sometimes they don't even hide their stupidity and it drives me crazy, but today is a good day so I held back the negativity and "didn't put it out into the world". Someone asked me about my hand but I didn't want to tell them what happened. Let's be mysterious. This girl in my class pointed to a Japanese ink drawings and asked if it's a chair drawn... Goddamn fucking retard it's the gates that we've been shown in class so many times before. And yet "but why is it soo small". It's like grandma why are your ears so big. So I can hear you better.

Whatever, what is the point of trying to make people understand art when they ask the dumbest questions possible. Why is the grass not green in this painting but yellow. Why is her face red. Why is she giving him an apple. Why is there a purple cloud. I don't know... why do you even exist? Can we not leave at least a tiny amount of preconceived perceptions at home at least for one goddamn day? This is why artists don't explain their art any more - there is no point. The audience makes no effort to get rid of the standardized values that have been implemented on them from birth. They can't take the glasses of general ignorance off. Nobody wants to get rid of their preconceived ideas, ideals and norms of society. That is why art is becoming a more and more exclusive "club". VIP only.

I'm a big fan of Gerhard Richter lately: