Mark me up in this theater called life.

I haven’t met a blank page in a while. It’s intimidating. Cliché enough, I have no reason not to write and every reason to write. Here goes going.

Fuck you. Two incredibly charged words. But really, I’m living and breathing everything I want to fuck about you. I’m really anxious. I want to tear out the fantastic inside me and vomit it all over this page, but it’s just lingering, itching, I feel it and just can’t. I want it to flow, I want to create something I feel good about, something I obsess over and store away unfinished only to look at months, or even years later only to re-perfect it and realize how much I’ve grown in my writing between that time. I guess that’s one of the thrills about it, markers from one time to the next, details unspecific, but feelings charged.

I'm angry.
Nothing I say will sound poetic either.
I need to learn to let go, when I'm in it... Not after its manipulated me.
Let go to things before they're diluted.
I could have had a lot of greats... But I ruin that
I hold on until its smothered and dead.
I'm annoyed.
This is when I want to hibernate.
Lets count 1,2,3,4,5 - 6 months since the last time...
Do I sense a pattern?
What the fuck is happening here?
Will I be brought back to this mid December. Probably.
I need a change. I want a change.
I'm pathetic.
Pathetically accepting the "okay"
Dammit, it's not okay!
I'm not okay and I fear there is no turning back.
I'm that girl.
The one I laugh at.
Cry for.
Pity, even.
Yes, I have made myself that girl.
I'm out.

half way point

We've reached the half way point of this year and I can hardly believe it. Was it really six months ago that my grandma passed? And has it really been six months since my heart first felt captivated by him? It all didn't work out how we had hoped and wanted, but even so, I haven't stopped missing her or him. Through distance, other relationships, anger, pain, humiliation... My heart deeply aches for him still. I know that things go wrong so that I can appreciate them when they are right and I also know that good things fall apart so that better things can fall together. I'm not sure how ready I am for him, but I am ready for things to start falling together...

This was killing me

I'm getting sick again. I feel it. My insides hurt, my body aches, I have no energy... And most of all I can't digest properly. FUCK! If I am supposed to go I want God to just take me now. I do not want to be dragged through this, again. I can't. This is insane. I am so upset nothing makes sense, including my thoughts. If anyone out there is reading this, sorry for that. I'm not sure anyone even looks at this. It's fine by me if not. I need a vice, but all I want to do is stay inside, listen to music, read, write... That's it. I need to keep human interaction minimal. What's the point of making a connection just to inevitably say goodbye? Whether I die in a year or fifty it all ends either way. Right now my feelings could be completely erotic, but I don't care. I feel like being extremely reactive, screaming, going out and acting repulsive... I want to do something, but I'm not going to. I'm twenty three years old. I'm too young to die. The curtains can't close... We're not even in intermission yet... This cannot be the final act.

Being in love... What is that anyway? Do we all even reach that? Can we reach that? Or do our natural defenses protect us as soon as the caution flags spring up just as soon as the situation reaches risky status... or the "danger zone"...

It's funny to me that we dive into it knowing we are entering that zone and feel a little uncomfortable, but don't mind it too much as long as the risk has a safety net... Which would ultimately be what we originally set out for.

Sometimes I feel brave and then I feel timid and nervous. When I am brave I don't think I am risking possibly enough. Or something that I hold at a great value. Maybe what I feel should be valued or appreciated I really do not value or appreciate at all... Like money. I need it, I want it, I can not function with out it, but do I really value it like the value I place on it? Probably not when I buy a clutch when I need gas.

What am I saying? Am I just babbling? Sort of... But I know my ideas and thoughts. It all makes sense to me. Honestly, I have been in situations and seen people in situations over the past few months and you know what I think everyone values or has appreciation for mostly? Rejection. So what does this mean? Are we a society that is derived on the idea of not being lonely, even the abstractly awkward artists who obtains physical loneliness most of his life, pulling out brilliant pieces of art being in that state... Yeah, well, I think that in all honesty connection is what we are all longing for. To not be "lonely." I know I am not into rejection. In fact I reject rejection. How do we overcome this? When our appreciation is for this? I have no idea. Maybe we never do. Maybe we keep repeating the grueling steps of trying to hold this non loneliness in our lives. Maybe we spend most of our lives in a lonely state while trying to find a solution to our loneliness... Maybe it's the loneliness that ultimately keeps us company. Maybe we accept that and maybe that is our lives. I really have no idea. This is all just my stages of thought...

It all ends one way or an other.

Every relationship ends. There are many ways in which it can... It can be purely circumstantial, it can be because one or both of the people involved did something that was too great to overcome and sometimes it can even be because someone dies... Either way every relationship ends.

In my opinion, truly believing what I just said, if every relationship ends why waste time on worrying about "will it end?" Worrying doesn't change circumstances. Worrying just makes you feel bad. I have no way of knowing what tomorrow will bring, but I have control over what I am doing in the present. I want to live. I do not live for yesterday or for tomorrow. I live for today. If I tried to reside in yesterday or make all my decisions of today based on tomorrow when I don't even know what tomorrow will bring than I wouldn't be living at all. I'd be merely floating around in a limbo state of mind. I'd be stuck.

In certain moments I wish I could stick him in my head to fully grasp my ideas. So he may truly understand my reasoning. I want this under the assumption if he really understands he would feel the same way too. It is so hard for me to watch someone I care so much about willingly give up something they wanted because they are overwhelmed with fear; fear of hurting mainly.

We will not get anything we want if we do not peruse it with full speed. It makes me mad also. I am mad at the person who tainted their ideas and the person who crumbled their trust and ability to see clearly with their heart. Because of this person I am fighting a battle. A battle that I am not sure I will ever win, but something in me won't let go. I can't let go.

I woke up last night crying. My heart was aching. I did not stop crying until I fell asleep again. Now that I know the density of substance this person has on my heart I will never go back to a weakened version of this. I will never settle, even out of comfort. Things are looking dim right now, but my faith keeps me going. It is all I have hold on and even so my grip is being held with the tips of my fingers.

I am a fighter. I will fight for the both of us if you need me to. But don’t expect me to give up. I may be tired, but I will not give in. I can only hope I am not shut out. This has been the greatest test of patience I have ever endured. But I am here… Waiting.

Feels good.

It feels so good to be home, in my room, surrounded by the things I love and find comfort in. I've been writing and listening to music for over two hours now. I wasn't sure if I would be able to call this place home again... I was only gone for two nights and three days, but two nights and three days can seem like an eternity if you are faced with the unknown.

Ethan and Juliana were accounted for over the weekend so I did not have that added stress. I drifted around during the daytime, worked a little and stayed at a friend's at night.

I am glad I stayed with him because his love for music is as great as mine and it was nice to be around it... He has good taste in movies which can be a pretty good distraction and I needed a healthy one. I got to read some of the things he wrote which is rad because I love to connect to people through writing, since writing is after all my favorite past time. He taught me a little on guitar, which makes me happy. And, he even let me ask questions during a movie we watched. All in all the company was good.

Life definitely throws curve balls. It's how you pull yourself out of the rain that makes the difference of how great you let the bad effect you. My friends were out Friday and Saturday night partying. I could have been with them... I got a late night text from someone I could have responded to, but all in all I knew I needed to keep a clear and steady mind. My focus needed to be pulling myself out of the rut I was in.

So I am home, I am safe and I am grateful.

Hard times for dreamers.

I get two types of responses when I tell people i am going to school for writing...

I get, "That's amazing, you are doing what you want to do!"

and I get...

"Well, what would you do with that? Why don't you go to school for business..."

the encouragement comes from people I don't know, and friends...

the discouragement comes from family, always.

I know my family wants to know I can take care of myself, but honestly I don't see how supporting me following my dreams and being supportive of what I really want in life is so bad. I get more support from strangers...

no title needed

Last night marked an anniversary of one of the worst days of my life... The ten year anniversary.

I had a weird night. I realize more so tonight that I need to be influenced by my head and not the hopes of my heart.

I also realized that the past is called the past for a reason and it is important that the things of the past stay a thing of the past...

Mistakes made help individuals to grow and to learn... Why would anyone ever bring the mistakes of the past into who they are in the present?

Maybe they didn't get the full lesson the first time? hmm...

Sometimes I need to be shaken and yelled at to get the point... Why it takes all this to get my attention, I have no idea, but sometimes it does...

I am a firm believer of having the courage to walk away from the things that don't suit you or your life... I've walked away before, I know I can again.

Right now I am going to go to bed. I am going to wake up and live the day making choices suitable for my life. After all this is the one life I get...

still

reading "for one more day"... It's an easy read. Easy to relate to. The author writes in simplistic terms, still with the ability to make you think.

I've been finding my writing style. Usually when I write poems I convey an emotion in less words, but strong words... Without giving up the emotion too easily it makes the reader think. I like to do that.

But I think it is a true art form to express in simplistic terms just to get a point across... Some writers are so good that's all they need. i.e. Charles Buckowsky. I want to be a great writer one day. I want it to look seamless and effortless.

I think everyone is a writer in their own right. It's just about getting the silent conversations with yourself out onto paper. Life is about relating. That is a big part of why I write.

I find I am my happiest when I am reading, writing and listening to music. I've been listening to Belle and Sebastian a lot lately.

There was a point in time I was hesitant about being by myself. Some may have even called it neediness. I hated that expression, but to be honest with myself I was very needy. When I finally occupied myself with the things I loved I began to place high value on the time spent in my room with my music and books being... well... by myself.

I like myself better for it. I feel talking is over rated. When there isn't anything to say, there is no point in talking. Some may find this odd coming from me, because I've been known to talk a lot, but honestly I am pretty quiet. Take away the hustle of a place, take away appearance and position, and you just have me. Why talk unless you can improve the silence?

My oldest friend had visitors from out of state. They were staying in a cheap motel next to hooters and the 405 freeway. She asked me to meet up at their motel. So I did.

With the door open smoking like they wanted cancer I entered the room. There was two of them. Brothers. One loud and social. Probably more comfortable to be around for some people. This was the one my friend liked. The other quiet and a little odd, sort of even made you feel uncomfortable.

I am an observer. Even if it may seem like I talk a lot sometimes, there is a lot more going on in my head that just doesn't come out.

Anyway, I observed the one with the louder personality, I listened to his stories and watched how everyone else in the room was so impressed with his demeanor. This was good for his ego, because this is exactly what he wanted to do... impress people, get reactions.

Every once in a while his uncomfortably quiet brother would say something. I can't remember now the things he said, but every time he would speak it was something great and witty. Not because he was trying to be great or witty, but because he just was.

He was the overlooked type. I love those types because usually they quiet ones have the most to say... To me it isn't the quantity that comes out of the mouth, but more so the quality of what is said.

I like people best when they get quiet with life. Seems they find ways to improve the silence not add to the chaos.

Cruel

I'm reading this book Jess gave me... "I don't want to talk about it" during the first chapter all I could think was why didn't someone give me this book previous to August 7, 2005... Maybe I'd still be a young single mom, but I definitely wouldn't be a young, divorced single mom!

My so called life... Starring me! Fabulous.