die judicii: letters to the dead

Seeing as how no one reads this anyway, thought I might leave some words that needed being said that were left unsaid.

h,
It’s a shame that after so many years, you decided to ghost me over something so trivial instead of talking to me. If you had only approached me and told me that you needed help, we wouldn’t have had to throw away our childhood. Unfortunately, I lost the ability to trust others because of you. It was just money, man. But I suppose you also helped me realize my naivety. So, thank you in that regard.

j&y,
I was such a piece of shit towards you two. When cryptocurrencies started gaining traction, I had felt that anything you asked of me was beneath me. Nothing you could ask of me could possibly be worth my time. I only saw the value of how much more I could make in the time to help you, and that was wrong of me. It really fucked with my perspective of the value of things. I suppose that’s the biggest reason my stance towards money has changed, and how I no longer care for it.

m,
You were always too nice to me, treating me way better than I deserved. I was always so dismissive towards you and wish I had done better. To this day I think about how you asked me to go on a walk and watch a movie with you the day before, but of course I had more “important” things to do. How quickly the world can change within a single day. I still recall getting the call on that August evening, the call that I should hurry over before it’s too late.

A,
To preface, I guess more than anything, I wish I could apologize for everything I had done to you so long ago. Despite my typical inability to feel guilt, it’s probably the only thing I truly do feel guilty about.

That being said, you absolutely broke me. What innocence I had no longer exists.

Where to even begin? So many mixed feelings. I suppose our beginnings set the stage throughout the term of our friendship as you became increasingly abusive towards me, perhaps in retribution. I suppose that’s why I was so accepting of it for so many years. I felt responsible for it at the time, but thinking back on it, we should always have been culpable for our actions despite their apparent motivations.

Through your various forms of abuse, you really did know how to isolate me. You only hit me up when you needed something, yet you were always absent when I needed you. You’d constantly tell me how little I meant to you, only to come to me crying when you needed someone to talk to and telling me how much I meant to you. That honestly fucked with my self-worth, even to this day. Even now, no matter how many people I surround myself with, those thoughts creep up to me. It’s probably why I would jump from one group of friends to another, before they really get a chance to get close to me. As a result, I find it so very difficult to truly open up to anybody any longer, which doesn’t really bother me; I’ve gotten used to being on my own.

It’s funny how our later friendship evolved far transcended our original relationship. In the end, you essentially felt like a younger sister to me; you were family. Ultimately, I understand why everything resulted in the way it did. By that time, we had become so toxic towards one another that it was only a matter of time. I hope you didn’t end up blaming yourself for it all because I was just as much at fault, if not more. It seems that you’re in a better place now, however, which brings me some comfort in knowing you were able to escape.

I guess it’s our inevitable fate.

I’m sorry, my dearest friend.

ee,
I am the way I am and have no interest in changing myself for any of you.

g,
Yeah, you can go fuck yourself.

Endgame

Lately I’ve been wondering — well for a while now, rather, I’ve been wondering how to establish who I am, and what components make me the person that I am. I guess I wouldn’t know since I haven’t had actual work, though I’d imagine most people determine who they are by what they do. With what I do, my sole function is the accumulation of wealth, which doesn’t feel like an actual goal to me. I’m not actually doing anything meaningful; I’m not helping anybody or actually creating anything. Yes, people do work to make a living, but they are still contributing and/or producing at the same time, which I don’t really do. So I suppose that puts me at a bit of a loss in terms of not knowing what my purpose is.

What defines a person? What makes someone who they are? I feel as though a big determinant of that is one’s vocation, which makes me wonder how I might define myself. Truthfully, I don’t do anything, so who am I? Should I find something to do? Would that give my existence purpose? Do people think about that when they do have an occupation? As in would I still be looking for purpose after that? But then what’s the point of that? I just don’t know.

“What do you do?” is always an awkward question for me as I’m never sure how to answer it. I usually reply with a simple “just chilling,” which for the most part is pretty accurate, but by doing so I feel lacking in some manner. Others are actually doing something, which at my age are either grad school or have already begun their careers, while here I have not. In some ways, I feel as though I haven’t matured by not pursuing a traditional path. Yet at the same time, this is what I wanted, so why am I so conflicted? What am I missing here?

I suppose ultimately, I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to add meaning to my life. I want to do something worthwhile and actually create something that I can look back to and be proud of. I would have thought having the wherewithal for that would be sufficient, but it seems that is not enough without the proper inspiration. It’s as though nothing is ever the way I imagine them to be.

718-460-9341

I’ve been pretty absent from social media as of late; I’m indifferent to it all I guess. What I have not stopped doing, however, is to continuously look towards inside and self-reflect. So this will just be me rambling of my introspection.

Perhaps this should be obvious, but I’ve learned what drives me most now. Anger, sorrow, pain. These negative experiences propel me to become more than I am. To distance myself from my shortcomings, I yearn to become better than I am. As long as I suffer, I have room for improvement. Weakness annoys me – in others, in myself – which is why I expend so much energy to escape it. It’s probably the weakness in my self at a former stage in life that I despise so much. As I think back I noticed that all of my times of growth were sourced from some type of weakness. Failure, loss, inadequacy: things that forced me to change myself, to become better somehow. Perhaps it took a bit longer than others, but one way or another I overcome and progress. Well that’s what normally forces people to grow, I suppose. However, I have no ambition. I have no desire for anything. Is that a shortcoming? It sounds like it should be, but it doesn’t feel like it to me.

I suppose the advent of cryptocurrencies has altered the course of my life. It’s funny to see how much Bitcoin has grown, considering I initially purchased my first coins at $10 years ago and now as I write this, each is on the cusp of being worth $20,000. But I realize the more money I make, the less valuable it becomes to me. As everything I desire becomes readily available, things start to lose their allure. Eventually stuff just becomes stuff. It’s kind of sad in a way, how nothing is special any longer. If anything, I’ve realized how little wealth means to me now – money does not buy happiness. At one point in my life I thought it might bring about such a feeling, but how naive I was to consider that.

And as I reflect upon the past couple years, I think of how much I forsake to reach where I am now and become the person I am today. I suppose I’m “successful” by some standards, so I guess I have that going for me. Nevertheless, What I seek is not obtainable by the material, which often times seems more burdensome than not. To be honest, I would give everything up to redo it all, but c’est la vie.

You do what you have to do. You have to do what’s best for you.
I think I understand that now, as unfortunate as it may be.

formative

Hello and welcome to blog. My first post will probably be wordier than most of my entries, though don’t take my word on that as it could change, depending on what this matures into. I know nothing about blogging, so please bear with me as I attempt to figure this all out.

Well, here we go:

Background

I guess I wanted to dress “better” about a year ago, after bumming it out for most of undergrad, when I realized how poorly I dressed. My daily uniform consisted of an American Apparel crew neck, a pair of ill-fitting Levi 511s, and some rainbow flip-flops. It’s strange how far along I’ve come, yet I still have much further to go. Though I suppose that’s the nature of fashion: constantly changing, never quite reaching perfection.

I graduated in the spring semester  of 2016 with a degree in psychology, studying to eventually matriculate into med school. My resume wasn’t particularly stellar, nor were my grades anything to note, so I decided to take a gap year to make me seem like that ideal candidate I knew I wasn’t. I was juggling between getting a master’s degree and doing Americorps for a year, but ended up doing neither: a result of my month-long reflection that gave birth to the mtbiblmw project.

Originally, mtbiblmw resulted from my quarter-life crisis of not knowing what the fuck I wanted to do with my life. It started as a journal to self-reflect and write down what I was thinking in stream of consciousness form; basically I wrote about what I was thinking at the time without actually thinking about it. In addition to the journal, I created my Instagram account to document my stylistic journey. Through both mediums, I eventually realized I did not want to become a doctor. I never had the passion for it, and was on that path for just its stability.

At the time of mtbiblmw’s inception, I had recently gotten into high fashion, which led to my moniker. A shortened form of the phrase from Vetements “may the bridges I burn light my way” FW16 hoodie, it seemed all too relevant at the time as I had recently parted ways with my closest friend. That event alone put me in a very dark place, and combined with my uncertain future, I felt absolutely broken.

And thus began my plunge into my obsession with Saint Laurent. My first experience in a Saint Laurent boutique was probably in May 2016, though the one I went to was quite lackluster. It wasn’t until I went to the store on Radio Road a few months later did I become absolutely enamored. Upon entering the store, I felt like I was in a different world, but at the time it all seemed out of reach for me. One thousand for a pair of shoes? I was just barely getting over spending more than one or two hundred on a pair of boots, so an amount up to ten times that seemed absurd to me…until I broke.

I decided it didn’t matter, I didn’t really care anymore. So I got my first pair of jodhpurs. I still recall the first time I opened that beautiful black box: how ecstatic I was, how elated I felt; it was too overwhelming but incredibly euphoric at the same time. From then on, I suppose I was chasing that feeling. It’s funny  how now that I type this all out, I realize how much of it sounds like an addiction, and perhaps it was. But in all fairness, I could’ve picked up a more malicious habit.

Presently, it no longer serves that role as I found myself through it. I now know what I’m doing with my future, and I’m pretty sure it’s only going to get better from here. I found how to monetize my newfound hobby in a way I could’ve never imagined in a way that it does not even feel like a job. If all goes well, I will be moving to New York by the end of the year. Although life can be life, I am hoping for the best.

As far as this blog goes, I’m not sure what direction I’m going to take with it. I thought I might try something new as I try to open myself up to new endeavors. I might do product reviews, albeit with my limited knowledge. Or perhaps I might do life updates, not that most would care to read that either. Who knows? I never plan anything anyways.

Nevertheless, this will be here for you to read if you care to.