How I got the idea in my head that going to New York and back on Sunday was a great plan is incredible. Traveling from New York to Boston on an unreliable bus on the busiest travel day of the year is absolutely retarded. How was that ever a good idea? What is wrong with me?

It just complicates everything. It means I could have gone somewhere else this weekend. It means I could have made things much simpler.

Whatever. Too late to hate myself now. That and I had a great time last night with friends I didn’t expect to bond with that much. Really sweet girls, really great time. Thanks guys.

Flimflam

November 25, 2008

First, I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping up with the writing lately. I’m completely unmotivated, and it’s so not cute.

Second, I hate gossip. For example, something kind of scary about a friend got back around to me tonight, and I tried to contact that person, and they’re not getting back to me. So I’m kind of in the dark as to wether it’s true or false. I’m very confused, but don’t worry, Deeders, it’s not your fault. I’m just a little whacked out about it. Paranoid, if you will.

Third,
tomorrow is the last day of class before break. That means I have about 2 weeks to prepare my final papers.

And in conclusion, if anyone lives in New York area (hell, I’ll do LI if necessary) and can let me crash on their couch saturday night, I have to come to the city to look at apartments. Le sigh.

Bits and Pieces

November 23, 2008

If there’s anything I’ve learned from this week it’s that I have a tendency to get myself into an irrational panic that only make things worse. I do that to myself far too often, and I need to learn how to identify it and calm down before I turn into a pile of mush and chaos on the ground.

I haven’t been able to write much recently. I’ve been to unfocused and distracted by how unhappy I’ve been. Sometimes I feel like I have no right to be unhappy: I have a wonderful family, good friends, and a strong will to fight for what I want. But I’m being chemically contradicted by my own mind, and I’m tired of fighting it. It gets exhausting.

There have been some friends as of late that I’ve been worried about more than myself. And often I find myself worrying about them more than myself. I still don’t know where that line is without feeling guilty.

I also spent some time with people I don’t see often. I had a life-changing experience Saturday… I can’t really explain it, but I don’t think I’ll ever view the world through the same eyes. However, I did spend the weekend with a group of friends that I felt were really looking out for me, regardless of the circumstances of what happened. Last night just reiterated what a fun group of people I know; it was glad to be reunited with them after so long.

I guess things are on their way back up. I really just need to get my life in order and start looking a little more optimistically at points where I seriously struggle; I have to be an active participant in my own life to make it work.

I’m feeling a lot of performance anxiety about tomorrow, but after that’s over, it’s over. There’s only 2 days of class this week, and I like feeling like it’ll be over in a breeze and it will be time. It’s exhausting to look at my calendar and see that I only have a few weeks left until I’m officially done with school. It’s a really empowering and terrifying feeling.

1. I am a terrible dancer unless inebriated. I’m sorry, it’s just a fact.

2. Who knew that walks in 20 degree weather were so nice.

3. Tonight was a really interesting experience. I was enlightened a little bit. Gave me a lot to think about a lot of things.

Sorry that was vague. Just think of it as an inside joke.

Le Sigh.

November 18, 2008

I spent today with my dear friend Alida, who pointed out that my posts have been incredibly depressing lately. I apologize. I’ve been really low lately, and I’ve been trying to teach myself to compartmentalize a bit more and sublimate my feelings into something more constructive to a tear-stained phone and mascara stained sleeves.

I have a two-hour break between classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I usually spend it tinkering away on my laptop and goofing off, but today, I felt as if mah girl Alida needed a bit of moral support. Her phone disappeared (it’s complicated, facebook style) and someone, luckily, found it and called her parents and recent contacts on her phone. We met with him near government center – he just happens to work as a computer forensics analyst for the government – and he was so kind in returning the phone. It kind of blew my mind for a second that there are still people out there that are willing to make an effort to help someone out.

I’m sorry I’ve been kind of an e-shit yesterday. I’ve not been at my best lately, but today was kind of a wee-glimmer of hope out from under the shitty dark cloud I’ve been living under.

Le sigh.

Addict Behavior

November 17, 2008

I am a baked potato that someone has scraped the insides out of and left the skin behind.

I am a pair of jeans that are just slightly too big, constantly pulling on the belt loops.

I am dust on the baseboards, ignored until company is in town.

I am the remains of a glass of red wine, dried to the glass and being chipped at with fingernails.

I am a pair of glasses that are loosened at the hinges, sliding off the bridge of your nose.

Are any of us really capable of love? What if it’s natural selection, and only certain members of the species are capable of feeling love, and I am not one of them. What I feel is just my assumption as to what love is, not what it actually is. Other people are capable of a higher chemical reaction, so their level of love is much more intense than my own. I suppose I love the best that I can.

I’ve found in my most recent relationships and adventures in dating that I am building a tougher skin. Instead of peeling layers off an onion, I’m putting them back on, trying to hold it all together. The last time I was with someone, I found myself jumping to conclusions: “Don’t do this. Do this. Think this. This is how you should respond.” I’ve programed myself into thinking I have to function certain ways to get what I want. I’m realizing that’s not how I want my relationships to work, and I’m sick of feeling that I’m stuck in a rut.

I haven’t had many good examples of love. How are we supposed to learn these things?

I am too controlling and subsequently control too much. I’m trying to let go and let more things exist as they are, but instinctively, it is my nature. And I am far too stuck in my ways to completely turn it around.

I’m trying to be careful for what I wish for.

In The First Place

November 16, 2008

I want you to watch me sleep
And in the morning tease me for leaving mascara on your sheets
They smell like you, but I’d like to leave part of me behind
Because I’m afraid if I don’t you’ll forget that I was ever there
Or that I ever mattered
In the first place

I dreamt about us last night
And I wasn’t lying next to you under five-hundred thread count
But under a few thousand stars, a limitless expanse
I hate remembering that I woke up and you weren’t there
Or that you ever mattered
In the first place

I abandoned us in my sleep
And forgot what it was like to be held that close
Or even hold someone else, not wanting to let go
I am trying to let go of that feeling of I can’t be me without you
Or that we ever mattered
In the first place

Lately I’ve been having these horrifying dreams that are so lifelike I’m worried that perhaps I’m actually awake and living in some alternate hallucinogenic universe. Last night I felt genuine happiness to the point that when I woke up, I was incredibly depressed that it wasn’t real. It was so real… I felt like I could touch other people and still was watching myself from outside my own body.

Last night was especially scary because I dreamt I was getting married to an ex that I had really intense feelings for. Reflecting on it, I don’t think I have any repressed feelings for that person (nor would I EVER consider marrying that person… I don’t even know who he is anymore…) but the genuine happiness and love that I felt within that dream was so intense… I feel like I can’t feel things to that degree anymore. I’m numbed to the severity and magnitude of the positive feelings in my life. I don’t remember ever feeling that good recently.

What a horrible experience it was to wake up and face the fact I am numbing my bad feelings, and it’s taking the good ones with it… I fear that euphoria is a myth when it comes to love and can only be found in my dreams.

Smoke Signals

November 13, 2008

Today I had one of those nostalgic flashback sequences where I remember how cool I used to be. There was a point where I was one of the “popular kids” and it was important to me. I kind of gave it all up because I found someone that made me feel like I was important to them. But after it’s all said and done, I’m at a school of strangers. There are a few friends I hold close and think I’m awesome, but there’s no more notoriety. I just exist. I am no one of importance to these people. Some of them are the popular ones now, and I should be paying attention to what they do, right?

THere was a really fall from grace somewhere back there. I’m not sure if I want it back, but there’s a certain sort of mourning that comes with being something to being nothing. My greatest fear used to be that I’d be forgotten. Now my biggest fear is that I won’t be remembered. I know these things seem like the same thing on the surface, but they aren’t in my mind.

I know that I have been forgotten to a certain degree. If I had been remembered, I don’t think I’d be in the place where I am now, sending out smoke signals, waiting for someone to notice that I’m burning myself to the ground. My “attention getting behavior” is being suppressed in exchange for self-abusive ones, knowing that people who really hate themselves don’t broadcast it to the world. So this is me signing off, done airing my dirty laundry to a group of people – some of which I don’t even know – desperately hoping this is floating in cyberspace somewhere to be found and thought of if only for a split second.

When I’m gone, and one day I will, just as we all will, I want to be remembered for something, anything than what I’ve got on my current record. I feel as if I found my three or so roots that will keep me grounded to what I know and love, but I know they won’t be here forever either.

I am doing my best to keep it together, at least for appearances, but what happens when I can’t keep it from ripping at the seams?


Jose Gonzales – Down the Line

I see problems down the line
I know that I’m right.
There was a dirt upon your hands
doing the same mistake twice
making the same mistake twice

Come on over and be so caught up
its not about compromising.

I see problems down the line
I know that I’m right
I see darkness down the line
I know its hard to fight.
There was a dirt upon your hands
doing the same mistake twice
making the same mistake twice.

Come on over
be so caught up its all about compromise.

I see problems down the line
I know that I’m right.

Don’t let the darkness eat you up