We cannot continue to play these games with clearly stated lines that shall not be crossed. For the lines are made without a clear way to see when they have indeed been crossed, people will get hurt in such a manner that even forgiveness cannot heal them.
There is no easy way to say this. So I won't. I pride myself, oh yes pride, on never denying myself anything in this life. But I will deny myself this one thing because I know that my story will never truly go down this path. Only harm will come of it. And I'm quite sure that the people involved would never forgive me for it. This is the way it must be.
I accept it. But it will slowly kill me inside out.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Thursday, October 27, 2011
The Fears of an Ex-Romantic
A year ago I thought I was in love and I admit, I'm young and naive, especially in the matters of love. Even before high school, when we begin to grasp the affection, the sex, and the elegance of romance, we long for our happily ever after, our knight in shining armour or our princess with long hair and the other perfections. Until you've had your heart broken, not once, not even twice, ladies and gentlemen, but at least a dozen times can you finally stop labeling yourself as naive to love.
You'll know.
Not now.
Not tomorrow.
But you will certainly know.
For me, after the incident a year ago, a month long, pure infatuation that led to the crushing blow of reality, I was stupid.
I let my heart grow cold. And not just jaded, painfully icy. Where there is no such thing as romance, not even the most innocent forms, of preteens just having their first sip of the poison that is "love". I scoffed, I sneered. "Love? There is no love!" And this went on for about two months...okay, four.
I don't really remember what changed in the spring. Mayish-Juneish, you know that strange haze of a tranisition inbetween the solid months of seasons. Maybe my heart literally thawed out or more likely, I just got bored with being bitter.
My last year as a teenager, I am so entitled to get bored with things.
Or maybe the reality of love hit me.
Love is many strange and stupid and wicked thing. But it's also awesome, brilliant, and unforgettable.
It's an art and a mess, sometimes both. It will grow and it will fade, because it is human, in a way, like us.
I mean, don't we change? Our anger knows shades and degrees. If we can manage to pay attention to our annoyances and rages, we can even control it, at times. Is love any different?
Well, okay, yes and no. But here's what I learned in my something shy of twenty something years;
1. It hardly makes sense and you ruin it horribly if you rationalize it.
2. It's just as dangerous as it is fun. (Snakes, manipulation, etc. Even love follows laws of logic here.)
3. You don't always get what you give. (Whoever thought of this saying was incredibly optimistic.)
4. Blink and you'll miss it. If you never reach for the candy spilling from the pinata, you'll never have anything sweetie. (It's three in the morning, let me reach at these connections.)
5. Love is like a job, a family, a video game... you can't just get the real deal, the good stuff in the very beginning, your first relationship, no. You have to mess up, get hurt, hurt people and earn...I mean, learn what it means to you before you get even a clue what you really want. Trust me, it's going to hurt a thousand times worse for a million times longer and leave a scar a billion times worse than anything else. (Except for you know, the obvious. I.e. lobotomy....)
There's no escaping it. You have to go through all of the good and the bad and the ugly, it's like school. You hate it now, it retrospect you'll be grateful. Don't stomach it, fight it, hate it, and pick yourself back up even if it feels like the end of the world. Because it's not. If you need me to I can do the math that proves it is not the end of the world, for you, personally. I really don't mind. It works for my friends and strangers I find in the strangest of places.
Love is a hell lot like everything else. It will be sucky and gross and sometimes, you can have it but you won't want it. Oh wait, I remember why I started all this nonsense....sorry.
Z:He's told me outright that will end, you know eventually. It's nothing...you know...happily ever after, he's the one.
J:So, just because you know when milk expires do you stop putting it in your coffee?
Z*mind blown*
J:No. You enjoy it until it's over, you forget it isn't there anymore to put in your coffee and you're sad, but when you go to the store you're like, "Oh hai milk." and the cycle repeats.
Z:*mind still blown*
J: This is where you say love isn't like milk.
Z: ....What if the cereal gets jealous?
It might be too soon to say but I think he solved my issues in one go.
You'll know.
Not now.
Not tomorrow.
But you will certainly know.
For me, after the incident a year ago, a month long, pure infatuation that led to the crushing blow of reality, I was stupid.
I let my heart grow cold. And not just jaded, painfully icy. Where there is no such thing as romance, not even the most innocent forms, of preteens just having their first sip of the poison that is "love". I scoffed, I sneered. "Love? There is no love!" And this went on for about two months...okay, four.
I don't really remember what changed in the spring. Mayish-Juneish, you know that strange haze of a tranisition inbetween the solid months of seasons. Maybe my heart literally thawed out or more likely, I just got bored with being bitter.
My last year as a teenager, I am so entitled to get bored with things.
Or maybe the reality of love hit me.
Love is many strange and stupid and wicked thing. But it's also awesome, brilliant, and unforgettable.
It's an art and a mess, sometimes both. It will grow and it will fade, because it is human, in a way, like us.
I mean, don't we change? Our anger knows shades and degrees. If we can manage to pay attention to our annoyances and rages, we can even control it, at times. Is love any different?
Well, okay, yes and no. But here's what I learned in my something shy of twenty something years;
1. It hardly makes sense and you ruin it horribly if you rationalize it.
2. It's just as dangerous as it is fun. (Snakes, manipulation, etc. Even love follows laws of logic here.)
3. You don't always get what you give. (Whoever thought of this saying was incredibly optimistic.)
4. Blink and you'll miss it. If you never reach for the candy spilling from the pinata, you'll never have anything sweetie. (It's three in the morning, let me reach at these connections.)
5. Love is like a job, a family, a video game... you can't just get the real deal, the good stuff in the very beginning, your first relationship, no. You have to mess up, get hurt, hurt people and earn...I mean, learn what it means to you before you get even a clue what you really want. Trust me, it's going to hurt a thousand times worse for a million times longer and leave a scar a billion times worse than anything else. (Except for you know, the obvious. I.e. lobotomy....)
There's no escaping it. You have to go through all of the good and the bad and the ugly, it's like school. You hate it now, it retrospect you'll be grateful. Don't stomach it, fight it, hate it, and pick yourself back up even if it feels like the end of the world. Because it's not. If you need me to I can do the math that proves it is not the end of the world, for you, personally. I really don't mind. It works for my friends and strangers I find in the strangest of places.
Love is a hell lot like everything else. It will be sucky and gross and sometimes, you can have it but you won't want it. Oh wait, I remember why I started all this nonsense....sorry.
Z:He's told me outright that will end, you know eventually. It's nothing...you know...happily ever after, he's the one.
J:So, just because you know when milk expires do you stop putting it in your coffee?
Z*mind blown*
J:No. You enjoy it until it's over, you forget it isn't there anymore to put in your coffee and you're sad, but when you go to the store you're like, "Oh hai milk." and the cycle repeats.
Z:*mind still blown*
J: This is where you say love isn't like milk.
Z: ....What if the cereal gets jealous?
It might be too soon to say but I think he solved my issues in one go.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
remembering
It's really weird to look back at all the things, people, and moments that meant so much then and that influenced what i am now. Some moments feel like they aren't even mine. It's a different life, one i dreamed up, even if it only is two, three years ago. There are others that obviously stroke a vicious chord in me and led me to be so determined or so distant now.
And it's not sad. People come and go, things break and get replaced, moments can never be repeated. But it's not the best feeling ever.
It's just weird, and for the most part i would do it all over exactly like the first time.
And it's not sad. People come and go, things break and get replaced, moments can never be repeated. But it's not the best feeling ever.
It's just weird, and for the most part i would do it all over exactly like the first time.
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Saturday, August 20, 2011
Highs and lows
You're falsetto concern and half assed poetry, bring me into a new perspective. We don't have fun with absinthe and rum, posioned dream veil to hide your lack of personality. And even if that personality was a lie it would be half as good as you not having one. The illusion isn't painted up with glamour and corruption, it's hollow designed to crumble. What can i find in you, when you have walls built up and a heart that's MIA? I have my doubts i am to blame, maybe the problem truly lies with you.
So like asher roth maybe i just have to BE BY MYSELF.
So like asher roth maybe i just have to BE BY MYSELF.
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Thursday, August 18, 2011
A time and a place
Identical, because you and i are each other's mirror. And not on the surface, in things we couldn't choose or control, but in the imagination, in our own little worlds, that revolve around each other and rarely stop to hesitate with the gravitational pull of others. We exist by our own rules, our own desires, the rest be damned. And not because we want to be different, we simply are. What would the others understand about-
letting go, considering others, the true depth of understanding.
They say we are self centered, when all we do is think about them and how they might feel, what they might think, how they might be hurt.
We say they are self centered because they never think of how they could avoid most of their stress and heartache, how they take away the happiness in others.
We're selfish because we live how we want, playing by a strict set of rules that protect others from ourselves.
They're selfish because they bend their rules to take away from others.
I'm a stupid selfish bitch because I spend petty cash in heartbeat.
But you'll always be worse because you never think of why those things are important to me.
Tell me, how does it feel to be the most significant reason as to why I smoke?
letting go, considering others, the true depth of understanding.
They say we are self centered, when all we do is think about them and how they might feel, what they might think, how they might be hurt.
We say they are self centered because they never think of how they could avoid most of their stress and heartache, how they take away the happiness in others.
We're selfish because we live how we want, playing by a strict set of rules that protect others from ourselves.
They're selfish because they bend their rules to take away from others.
I'm a stupid selfish bitch because I spend petty cash in heartbeat.
But you'll always be worse because you never think of why those things are important to me.
Tell me, how does it feel to be the most significant reason as to why I smoke?
Monday, August 15, 2011
Figured Out
a) fear of neglect and abandonment
b) the situation itself, because I like privacy.
c) the people. because I'm worried about the consequences
d) things not being stable, or significant.
....let's work on the solution....
b) the situation itself, because I like privacy.
c) the people. because I'm worried about the consequences
d) things not being stable, or significant.
....let's work on the solution....
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Watching the Show
Is it jealousy if I reflexively lash out because he's sleeping with one of my friends or is it out of fear that I turn into a psycho bitch? I'm guessing it's the latter, because the sex thing doesn't bother me that much. no really. It doesn't. It's the fear that this is going to be like every time before. (twice) where it became like he forgot about me and all the...fun...i guess we had together. Why? She's into comics, video games, pretty much the girl I could never be. But does that make me less valuable?
And now I sit in constant paranoia that he's just going to tell me he's done with me, because he has other girls to sleep with now. I blame myself partially because I've run under the cover sex once again. There's a lot I still don't know about him, and so much I would like to show him. But it's like...I don't have an in, a way to compete with others' history with him.
Murphy's law I suppose is what keeps fueling this paranoia. Because it always happens ,the second I get comfortable with people and have fun, it burns down faster than I can finish a cigarette. I can't even begin to fathom why. And it's keeping this little log of things that keeps me sane. I broke the first rule. Silly me. Getting attached, again. I don't think I can help it at this point. It is what adds to that little touch sincerity and makes the good and bad times even more real. Instead of trying to keep a good distance from everyone, knowing time is a friend to no one. I keep reminding myself ,(or at least trying to convince myself) that in a year I'll be gone, to another city, with other groups that I will be on the fringes of....
back to the point of this.
I shouldn't feel bad. I really shouldn't. I have all the qualities I want to have. True I do get a little off balance when something stresses me out and I have no way to distract myself.
Maybe I do have to learn to share....*shiver* I'm spoiled. Sharing is hard. Sharing anything, ANYTHING is hard. Secrets, moments, friends...everything. Can I tilt my head to see this from a perspective at least I know who the other girl is? Maybe. I don't know yet.
I kind of need a slap in the face. I'm sure of that now. Because it's a reflex to play "doll" and run from things that stress me out. I need to find the frame of mind that won't force me to drink to ignore the stress and spend days sleeping.
Focus. Come on Z. Focus.
And now I sit in constant paranoia that he's just going to tell me he's done with me, because he has other girls to sleep with now. I blame myself partially because I've run under the cover sex once again. There's a lot I still don't know about him, and so much I would like to show him. But it's like...I don't have an in, a way to compete with others' history with him.
Murphy's law I suppose is what keeps fueling this paranoia. Because it always happens ,the second I get comfortable with people and have fun, it burns down faster than I can finish a cigarette. I can't even begin to fathom why. And it's keeping this little log of things that keeps me sane. I broke the first rule. Silly me. Getting attached, again. I don't think I can help it at this point. It is what adds to that little touch sincerity and makes the good and bad times even more real. Instead of trying to keep a good distance from everyone, knowing time is a friend to no one. I keep reminding myself ,(or at least trying to convince myself) that in a year I'll be gone, to another city, with other groups that I will be on the fringes of....
back to the point of this.
I shouldn't feel bad. I really shouldn't. I have all the qualities I want to have. True I do get a little off balance when something stresses me out and I have no way to distract myself.
Maybe I do have to learn to share....*shiver* I'm spoiled. Sharing is hard. Sharing anything, ANYTHING is hard. Secrets, moments, friends...everything. Can I tilt my head to see this from a perspective at least I know who the other girl is? Maybe. I don't know yet.
I kind of need a slap in the face. I'm sure of that now. Because it's a reflex to play "doll" and run from things that stress me out. I need to find the frame of mind that won't force me to drink to ignore the stress and spend days sleeping.
Focus. Come on Z. Focus.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Love and Lust
Honestly? No cryptic bullshit this time round. Z's analysis of open relationships and soul mates.
Soul Mates, the ONE, your other half, all cleverly worded jail sentences. No, hear me out, because I have nothing against jail- I mean monogamous relationships. They're comprised of three things, commitment, trust and affection/lust. Because without that chemistry, it might as well be an arranged marriage. Some people wonder why their relationships don't work out, or how they are single. Trust and commitment are the biggest two...issues, but it takes no amount of effort to figure out lust. You see it you want it. Done. Trust, if someone has been "fucked over" in the past, and you're the one they "want to try and trust", give. them. a. chance. I'm serious. Stop being a controling freak, who thinks everyone has issues, and cannot deal with life. (we all have some issue with our past that is taking forever to get over). Be patient. Do not rush them, because that trust will be ridiculously worth the wait.
Maybe, hell, you want people in your life who take time to trust you, because they know the value of it way more than someone who trusts blindly.
Commitment is another big thing to deal with. "Oh no, I've been in committed relationships." Think again. If your relationship(s) last years, that's committment. Two months, not so much. There is a scale people use to judge if you can deal with committment, in case, you didn't know. And it's a lot to handle. In monogamous relationship, that person is the only person you will a)sleep with, b) sleep next to, and c)say I love you to. That is the basic rule for relationships these days, right? Right.
Personally, I don't think anyone younger than thirty should even consider getting married. If you do, good luck. Until you hit that big 30, you are purely fucking around. Career hasn't even begun yet, stability is up in the air, and last time you checked there was a LIST of girls/boys you wanted to bang. Do NOT settle down, because temptation and committment do not mix. Wait.
Think it through.
Fuck everyone on that list, before you look into someone's eyes and accidently lie when they ask, "You don't want to sleep with anyone else do you?" (Because I have heard the stories and sometimes this question takes the most insane forms...)
Now. On to something a bit more fun.
Open relationships. At first I didn't understand them. Why would anyone bother with one? If you're going to sleep with anyone and everyone...Hang on, chill out, I'm not done. Open relationships seem to be based of a different set of components than exclusive couples. Trust yes of course, the has to be some sort of trust, but there's also love and maturity.
How many of you can honestly say you would not get jealous if "your" significant other was sleeping with other people? Put your hands down. Especially you, thinking, "Well if it were another girl, I'd be cool with it." No, what?! That's horrible.
An open relationship can't work if any one of these things is absent. No trust, no love, and that certainly is not very mature. People get hurt and just need to heal(known as the rebound), people want to sleep with other people in a very casual way(because how else are you going to get better at it, if you don't practice). It's normal, it's human. We all want to sleep with a lot of other people, some of us just give ourselves what we want.
Basically, if you love someone who wants to sleep with other people but there is no question that they love you, have at it. (Some people think this is setting yourself to get hurt, but why else would trust be so essential to ANY relationship...)
There's nothing wrong with either of these relationships, sole partner or all the partners, just a couple guidelines.
1. BE SAFE
2. Know what you want before you accidently/indirectly hurt people emotionally, (mean and casual sex don't mix apparently)
3. BE SAFE.
have fun. ;)
Soul Mates, the ONE, your other half, all cleverly worded jail sentences. No, hear me out, because I have nothing against jail- I mean monogamous relationships. They're comprised of three things, commitment, trust and affection/lust. Because without that chemistry, it might as well be an arranged marriage. Some people wonder why their relationships don't work out, or how they are single. Trust and commitment are the biggest two...issues, but it takes no amount of effort to figure out lust. You see it you want it. Done. Trust, if someone has been "fucked over" in the past, and you're the one they "want to try and trust", give. them. a. chance. I'm serious. Stop being a controling freak, who thinks everyone has issues, and cannot deal with life. (we all have some issue with our past that is taking forever to get over). Be patient. Do not rush them, because that trust will be ridiculously worth the wait.
Maybe, hell, you want people in your life who take time to trust you, because they know the value of it way more than someone who trusts blindly.
Commitment is another big thing to deal with. "Oh no, I've been in committed relationships." Think again. If your relationship(s) last years, that's committment. Two months, not so much. There is a scale people use to judge if you can deal with committment, in case, you didn't know. And it's a lot to handle. In monogamous relationship, that person is the only person you will a)sleep with, b) sleep next to, and c)say I love you to. That is the basic rule for relationships these days, right? Right.
Personally, I don't think anyone younger than thirty should even consider getting married. If you do, good luck. Until you hit that big 30, you are purely fucking around. Career hasn't even begun yet, stability is up in the air, and last time you checked there was a LIST of girls/boys you wanted to bang. Do NOT settle down, because temptation and committment do not mix. Wait.
Think it through.
Fuck everyone on that list, before you look into someone's eyes and accidently lie when they ask, "You don't want to sleep with anyone else do you?" (Because I have heard the stories and sometimes this question takes the most insane forms...)
Now. On to something a bit more fun.
Open relationships. At first I didn't understand them. Why would anyone bother with one? If you're going to sleep with anyone and everyone...Hang on, chill out, I'm not done. Open relationships seem to be based of a different set of components than exclusive couples. Trust yes of course, the has to be some sort of trust, but there's also love and maturity.
How many of you can honestly say you would not get jealous if "your" significant other was sleeping with other people? Put your hands down. Especially you, thinking, "Well if it were another girl, I'd be cool with it." No, what?! That's horrible.
An open relationship can't work if any one of these things is absent. No trust, no love, and that certainly is not very mature. People get hurt and just need to heal(known as the rebound), people want to sleep with other people in a very casual way(because how else are you going to get better at it, if you don't practice). It's normal, it's human. We all want to sleep with a lot of other people, some of us just give ourselves what we want.
Basically, if you love someone who wants to sleep with other people but there is no question that they love you, have at it. (Some people think this is setting yourself to get hurt, but why else would trust be so essential to ANY relationship...)
There's nothing wrong with either of these relationships, sole partner or all the partners, just a couple guidelines.
1. BE SAFE
2. Know what you want before you accidently/indirectly hurt people emotionally, (mean and casual sex don't mix apparently)
3. BE SAFE.
have fun. ;)
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
The magic of the mind
Some people delve into fiction and fantasy, through means of literature, a craft of some kind where a design is necessary for its completetion. I cannot go so easily down that path.
I've been waiting to hear someone explain their interest in psycholgy the same way I do, because for some reason I'm obsessed with finding someone similiar to me in any way. But no. No one has come forward with the metaphor the mind is magic and I am alone in my obsession with it.
Manipulation is a very general category. It includes lying, seduction, creating a false sense of security, etc. But there is a particular aspect of manipulation that can be called an "art". Persuasion. It is not bending the truth or painting up some illusion people can dive into hopelessly infatuated with security and success. It is straight forward and most of the time honest. Broken down into its most basic sense it is either "you can have this choice" or "You can't."
Drama queens are manipulative, teenagers are manipulative, everyone does it one way or another, but it's not just lawyers and businessmen who specialize in it. Anyone can, it's just that few choose to do it. (Which is why it is probably such a deplorable trait because it is not a readily gained such as kindness or honesty) Most manipulation is shoddy, halfassed, full of holes that even the simplest of men can slip through. It's the artists I want, to examine, maybe even exploit.
And I will be hated for my honesty, I'm sure of it.
The magic of the mind is this; it is a game of the finest art. It has endless possibilities, it cannot be cheated so easily, and it never ceases being so surprising. It can be injured, in both the figurative and literal sense, and rebuild itself. It can be preserved through a multitude of media and change at a heart's whim without any notice. It is one of kind in its seductive mystery, and I will learn everything I can about it.
Because knowledge is power, and power is so rarely an art in itself.
I've been waiting to hear someone explain their interest in psycholgy the same way I do, because for some reason I'm obsessed with finding someone similiar to me in any way. But no. No one has come forward with the metaphor the mind is magic and I am alone in my obsession with it.
Manipulation is a very general category. It includes lying, seduction, creating a false sense of security, etc. But there is a particular aspect of manipulation that can be called an "art". Persuasion. It is not bending the truth or painting up some illusion people can dive into hopelessly infatuated with security and success. It is straight forward and most of the time honest. Broken down into its most basic sense it is either "you can have this choice" or "You can't."
Drama queens are manipulative, teenagers are manipulative, everyone does it one way or another, but it's not just lawyers and businessmen who specialize in it. Anyone can, it's just that few choose to do it. (Which is why it is probably such a deplorable trait because it is not a readily gained such as kindness or honesty) Most manipulation is shoddy, halfassed, full of holes that even the simplest of men can slip through. It's the artists I want, to examine, maybe even exploit.
And I will be hated for my honesty, I'm sure of it.
The magic of the mind is this; it is a game of the finest art. It has endless possibilities, it cannot be cheated so easily, and it never ceases being so surprising. It can be injured, in both the figurative and literal sense, and rebuild itself. It can be preserved through a multitude of media and change at a heart's whim without any notice. It is one of kind in its seductive mystery, and I will learn everything I can about it.
Because knowledge is power, and power is so rarely an art in itself.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
I don't even-
First rule of being a Sinner is:
DON'T GET ATTATCHED.
Because people are good at one thing and one thing only: disappointing other people.
Go figure. A guy I like for an extensive amount of time turns out to be exactly like every other guy. Silly me for thinking that maybe he'd be different. Oh well.
And "every other guy" here having the meaning of the other 14 guys I've dated. So yeah, I think I've got a few clues.
/sigh
I think my question now is, to go on letting him treat me like a whore or do I tell him to fuck off and find some other tail to mind fuck?
I wish these things were simpler, like surgically removing my heart. Or something.
DON'T GET ATTATCHED.
Because people are good at one thing and one thing only: disappointing other people.
Go figure. A guy I like for an extensive amount of time turns out to be exactly like every other guy. Silly me for thinking that maybe he'd be different. Oh well.
And "every other guy" here having the meaning of the other 14 guys I've dated. So yeah, I think I've got a few clues.
/sigh
I think my question now is, to go on letting him treat me like a whore or do I tell him to fuck off and find some other tail to mind fuck?
I wish these things were simpler, like surgically removing my heart. Or something.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
slender razor
Close precision, keep slicing in the right direction round and round till natural shows the color hidden beneath these clothes. Gaping wound no true stitch and mend this mirror neuron itch. Capsized proper with truth embedded neatly into the side i've aligned with. Precious elixir of doomsday free, a contradiction to set me free. One good time one last round, i've made it all so clear again. Hurt me deeply no regret to see an emotional side of lycantrophy. But that's not my problem, tag you're it. Just another idiot, you'll never see it.
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Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Lookie what we have here
Sometimes I wonder how many people look back on their past and cry because they miss it so much. If they feel they'll never be that happy again and spend their time making other people miserable.
It's a lie you know. The more you learn and experience, yeah it has the potential to make you miserable, but it also has the potential to make you glow from sheer bliss. I mean there's a reason people as killing themselves in larger quantities, or killing others....all you hear about is the few exceptions to the actual point of life.
Which is fulfilling your fate and finding happiness.
"But what is my fate? When/how/where will I find happiness?"
Really? You're only slowing yourself down asking these questions. Trial and error. Sometimes you got jump before you can see (but not physically, like...run off a cliff or something...mentally take a chance). If you let these questions bring even your everyday decisions to a stand still. You're fucked.
Do you want to be fucked? In a not so, Pamela Anderson, Megan Fox (or whoever the hottest bitch on the block is this week) three some with the girl of your intellectual dreams fucked, but in a sucked-into-a-black-hole-slowly-ripped-apart-while-your-lover-is-waiting-naked-to-fuck-your-brains- out-for-you-at-home FUCKED. Right. Didn't think so.
Three easy steps to making sure you get the first choice and not the second one.
1. With every grey cloud is a silver lining.
That's right, even in your darkest hour, there is a bright side to your doom and gloom. All you have to do is see it. Tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes, take a sleeping pill, smoke a cigarette, but there is a good side to every bad if you just look for it.
2. Listen to everything.
Music, the mindless chatter from other people around you, and the people you care about. DON"T get lost in your own witty thoughts and whatnot. Stop picturing cute nerdy chick/boy/transexual naked. Stop it. Bad human. If you listen, it'll give you something to do and you'll probably learn something. How well you listen is more important that snappy remark you showed off with.
3. Make everyday an adventure.
If she's boring, even the accountant next door isn't going to want to do her. (I know I know sexist. but check it out, I insult men too!) Nobody likes doing the tedious things in life. The pooping, the butt stratching, and the bullshit spilling that falls effortlessly from their lips might seem interesting to most men and very few women. I mean less than 2%, but! for the rest of us, we want more.
We only get more if we give more. Not spending money, not acting falsetto happy, but simply living everyday like it's truly the last.
There you go. The basis of finding and being happy.
Use it wisely.
I mean it.
Do NOT make me leave this bed to straighten your mess. I won't.
I'm going to learn stuff now.
Off with you hooligins.
<3 ZeD
It's a lie you know. The more you learn and experience, yeah it has the potential to make you miserable, but it also has the potential to make you glow from sheer bliss. I mean there's a reason people as killing themselves in larger quantities, or killing others....all you hear about is the few exceptions to the actual point of life.
Which is fulfilling your fate and finding happiness.
"But what is my fate? When/how/where will I find happiness?"
Really? You're only slowing yourself down asking these questions. Trial and error. Sometimes you got jump before you can see (but not physically, like...run off a cliff or something...mentally take a chance). If you let these questions bring even your everyday decisions to a stand still. You're fucked.
Do you want to be fucked? In a not so, Pamela Anderson, Megan Fox (or whoever the hottest bitch on the block is this week) three some with the girl of your intellectual dreams fucked, but in a sucked-into-a-black-hole-slowly-ripped-apart-while-your-lover-is-waiting-naked-to-fuck-your-brains- out-for-you-at-home FUCKED. Right. Didn't think so.
Three easy steps to making sure you get the first choice and not the second one.
1. With every grey cloud is a silver lining.
That's right, even in your darkest hour, there is a bright side to your doom and gloom. All you have to do is see it. Tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes, take a sleeping pill, smoke a cigarette, but there is a good side to every bad if you just look for it.
2. Listen to everything.
Music, the mindless chatter from other people around you, and the people you care about. DON"T get lost in your own witty thoughts and whatnot. Stop picturing cute nerdy chick/boy/transexual naked. Stop it. Bad human. If you listen, it'll give you something to do and you'll probably learn something. How well you listen is more important that snappy remark you showed off with.
3. Make everyday an adventure.
If she's boring, even the accountant next door isn't going to want to do her. (I know I know sexist. but check it out, I insult men too!) Nobody likes doing the tedious things in life. The pooping, the butt stratching, and the bullshit spilling that falls effortlessly from their lips might seem interesting to most men and very few women. I mean less than 2%, but! for the rest of us, we want more.
We only get more if we give more. Not spending money, not acting falsetto happy, but simply living everyday like it's truly the last.
There you go. The basis of finding and being happy.
Use it wisely.
I mean it.
Do NOT make me leave this bed to straighten your mess. I won't.
I'm going to learn stuff now.
Off with you hooligins.
<3 ZeD
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Fighting no one, killing nothing
There's this thing in my chest, a metaphorical thing, like a hiccup or a bump. But it's there, it's big and at times it makes it hard to breathe. I think I fucked my psychology class. Do you even know what that means?
Ridiculously, it means I suck at psychology, something that should be so easy for me is actually the worse thing in my list of brilliance. I should've passed this class no problem, but here I am, fucking up test and turning in late paper with poorly chosen topics. Ugh.
Realistically, I should have managed my time better so I could spend more time studying those similar but oh so different theories, learning how to conduct experiments better and written my paper ahead of time. It was extremely easy, but I slacked off. And the only reason I feel so bad now is because I don't want my father to tell me I'm a fuck up. (or fucking up like i did in high school).
So, what can I do?
I can still write my paper. (Even though, the teacher is not too pleased with me not having any of the materials to write said paper, and I had to ask her to email me the outline for the essay, which shows how much I've been ditching class which is not going to earn points on my essay. As much as you'd like to think it's about your work, it doesn't hurt if the teacher is fond of you, now does it?) I'm picking something with the Internet and Social Networking, which should be interesting. I'm leaning toward the negative though, cuz I is biaz lik dat.
There's one more test and I know what it's on. So I can study now and ace it when it's time.
I can stop kicking myself repeatedly for this. I know what I did wrong, and it is not incredibad like high school. I'm taking like five other psychology courses before I leave De Anza, General Psych is one stone I slipped on. (Though it is like....the basics...).
My father? Who the muffin knows. But at least he doesn't tell me I'm going to fail at life and become a hooker like my mother told me...all. the. fucking. time.
In the end, what you think of yourself is what matters, and you doing whatever it takes to find a safe place in your mind is the most important. If you've got to run, run fucking fast.
Ridiculously, it means I suck at psychology, something that should be so easy for me is actually the worse thing in my list of brilliance. I should've passed this class no problem, but here I am, fucking up test and turning in late paper with poorly chosen topics. Ugh.
Realistically, I should have managed my time better so I could spend more time studying those similar but oh so different theories, learning how to conduct experiments better and written my paper ahead of time. It was extremely easy, but I slacked off. And the only reason I feel so bad now is because I don't want my father to tell me I'm a fuck up. (or fucking up like i did in high school).
So, what can I do?
I can still write my paper. (Even though, the teacher is not too pleased with me not having any of the materials to write said paper, and I had to ask her to email me the outline for the essay, which shows how much I've been ditching class which is not going to earn points on my essay. As much as you'd like to think it's about your work, it doesn't hurt if the teacher is fond of you, now does it?) I'm picking something with the Internet and Social Networking, which should be interesting. I'm leaning toward the negative though, cuz I is biaz lik dat.
There's one more test and I know what it's on. So I can study now and ace it when it's time.
I can stop kicking myself repeatedly for this. I know what I did wrong, and it is not incredibad like high school. I'm taking like five other psychology courses before I leave De Anza, General Psych is one stone I slipped on. (Though it is like....the basics...).
My father? Who the muffin knows. But at least he doesn't tell me I'm going to fail at life and become a hooker like my mother told me...all. the. fucking. time.
In the end, what you think of yourself is what matters, and you doing whatever it takes to find a safe place in your mind is the most important. If you've got to run, run fucking fast.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Who knows what's underground
Are you what I need? Or just what I want? Someone who treads lightly between the superficial and depths or someone who flies to close to the sun? Can you show me a world I've never seen or reflect back what I've been and what I've done? Can I find security in your arms or did I just make you up? Are we here, together for the different things or are we in love? Did you fall from the heavens, a demon borne of hell,or are you just like me searching around?
I think you're lovely, no matter what you are. And if you change, my love will change with you. If you become something dark, I'll show you your light. If you become superficial, I'll show you how to grow. I'll leave when you tell me, I'll stay when you need me. I'll sleep by your side so the nightmares don't steal you. I'll try not to hurt you, directly or not and kiss your bruises better whenever you hurt.
And while I love you, we haven't met. I scared you off. Yet again.
I think you're lovely, no matter what you are. And if you change, my love will change with you. If you become something dark, I'll show you your light. If you become superficial, I'll show you how to grow. I'll leave when you tell me, I'll stay when you need me. I'll sleep by your side so the nightmares don't steal you. I'll try not to hurt you, directly or not and kiss your bruises better whenever you hurt.
And while I love you, we haven't met. I scared you off. Yet again.
Monday, October 25, 2010
The Muffin that Overdosed
Sometimes I wonder if it's just me.
Totally disillusioned with anything outside of a world created to fit my social and emotional needs, like say anything outside of a book.
Because people my age, don't read. Alright that's a gross exaggeration, but the mass majority do not frequent libraries or bookstores with the intent of leaving with a book, unless it's for school.
People my age, don't type in complete sentences with proper spelling and you'd think in a world becoming as modernized as this, spelling would be kind of important. It's the new selection-of-a-mate process.
No. No. It really is.
Sometimes I wonder why it seems so gross, this new era that's dawning upon us. With my 16 and 17 year old counterparts with their Blackberries and Androids (and don't know how to fucking use them to their fullest potential...), the people dying to be young, and the young dying to throw away their youth, how everything seems so important tomorrow and right now? We all just want a good time, no rules, no deadlines, and no names. And then I think that it's not the era at all. It's the general population of the fuck ups ruining it for the rest of us.
Totally disillusioned with anything outside of a world created to fit my social and emotional needs, like say anything outside of a book.
Because people my age, don't read. Alright that's a gross exaggeration, but the mass majority do not frequent libraries or bookstores with the intent of leaving with a book, unless it's for school.
People my age, don't type in complete sentences with proper spelling and you'd think in a world becoming as modernized as this, spelling would be kind of important. It's the new selection-of-a-mate process.
No. No. It really is.
Sometimes I wonder why it seems so gross, this new era that's dawning upon us. With my 16 and 17 year old counterparts with their Blackberries and Androids (and don't know how to fucking use them to their fullest potential...), the people dying to be young, and the young dying to throw away their youth, how everything seems so important tomorrow and right now? We all just want a good time, no rules, no deadlines, and no names. And then I think that it's not the era at all. It's the general population of the fuck ups ruining it for the rest of us.
Monday, October 18, 2010
You've got a bone to pick
It's funny how true nature always wins out. You can't hide who you really are for long. If you're a miserable person, it'll escape. If you're a positive person trying to hide under the mask of depression, you'll confuse the fuck out of people and yourself. But say you do agree with me and the true self always comes out eventually...
why do you create a mask?
It's kind of pointless isn't it? And at the end of the day, the lie is still a lie. The feelings that arose when you wore your heavily made up persona are lies, and the situations you created or took advantage of, might as well have been a dream. You get it don't you?
But you're doing it now.
If this mask theory does apply to you, you're probably sitting there thinking of where the cracks are. How to create a more flawless mask, and how to cover up your flaws with more style. But here's the thing, it won't work. Because it's too late. People are already know you and you have to offer, mask or no mask. The persona has been life and breath and soon, you're going to sink.
True happiness is not built through other people, it comes from knowing yourself better than what people suggest is the real you, being able to smile at the haters because you know what you're really made of. That tremor of a smile there, the flicker of delight because you obtained the grain of attention, it's a lie. It won't last. It's not real.
But who am I to judge?
After all, it's not like I've been through this all before, and know when a lie is dying.
And I too still wear a mask, of ignorance. Because there's no way in hell, I'm letting you in to find out what I know. But I'll rip you apart to get to your core.
You've got a bone to pick, but I've got skeletons to hide.
why do you create a mask?
It's kind of pointless isn't it? And at the end of the day, the lie is still a lie. The feelings that arose when you wore your heavily made up persona are lies, and the situations you created or took advantage of, might as well have been a dream. You get it don't you?
But you're doing it now.
If this mask theory does apply to you, you're probably sitting there thinking of where the cracks are. How to create a more flawless mask, and how to cover up your flaws with more style. But here's the thing, it won't work. Because it's too late. People are already know you and you have to offer, mask or no mask. The persona has been life and breath and soon, you're going to sink.
True happiness is not built through other people, it comes from knowing yourself better than what people suggest is the real you, being able to smile at the haters because you know what you're really made of. That tremor of a smile there, the flicker of delight because you obtained the grain of attention, it's a lie. It won't last. It's not real.
But who am I to judge?
After all, it's not like I've been through this all before, and know when a lie is dying.
And I too still wear a mask, of ignorance. Because there's no way in hell, I'm letting you in to find out what I know. But I'll rip you apart to get to your core.
You've got a bone to pick, but I've got skeletons to hide.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Today can just die.
Today is a day where I bitch about how horrible today is.
"And how is that different from any other day?" I hear you shout silently. It just is.
Getting out of bed before noon is not something I make a habit of. I wake up six to drop my sisters to school and then sleep. Simply because I don't sleep until after I drop the twins anyway.
I had plans and they got changed because I was trying to be a good friend and I have a tendency of putting people before myself.
So schedule is set back an hour and I want to go find a little pick me up. A magazine. Because magazines are sort of my outlet. I tear them up, and put them back together in a way with a metaphorical meaning. Look how artsy I am. But when I picked up my little cheap Glamour UK, I saw the new Vogue Italia issue. And not just any issue, a bundle. Five magazines featuring haute couture and a variety of other goodies. My heart lurched. I needed it. Why? Because it would make me feel good, like there was hope in this day not being shitty. Oh...but no.
There wasn't enough money on my card.
....
...
..
.
NO MAGAZINE FOR ME.
So I do what every self respecting girl would do. I spend the money I do have on something I don't need.
Cigarettes and monster.
Now. I don't have enough money to finish out the week. And I'm pretty sure I can't ask my father for money unti thursday? Probably.
Great.
Now I'm weak, sweaty and tired.
And it all started with a plate of linguini and a glass of wine.
"And how is that different from any other day?" I hear you shout silently. It just is.
Getting out of bed before noon is not something I make a habit of. I wake up six to drop my sisters to school and then sleep. Simply because I don't sleep until after I drop the twins anyway.
I had plans and they got changed because I was trying to be a good friend and I have a tendency of putting people before myself.
So schedule is set back an hour and I want to go find a little pick me up. A magazine. Because magazines are sort of my outlet. I tear them up, and put them back together in a way with a metaphorical meaning. Look how artsy I am. But when I picked up my little cheap Glamour UK, I saw the new Vogue Italia issue. And not just any issue, a bundle. Five magazines featuring haute couture and a variety of other goodies. My heart lurched. I needed it. Why? Because it would make me feel good, like there was hope in this day not being shitty. Oh...but no.
There wasn't enough money on my card.
....
...
..
.
NO MAGAZINE FOR ME.
So I do what every self respecting girl would do. I spend the money I do have on something I don't need.
Cigarettes and monster.
Now. I don't have enough money to finish out the week. And I'm pretty sure I can't ask my father for money unti thursday? Probably.
Great.
Now I'm weak, sweaty and tired.
And it all started with a plate of linguini and a glass of wine.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Killing the Diva, Rasing the Z
I lack substence. And that's something I've been afraid of. I've been coasting on common ground (like school), style (the Diva) and people's interest in something that doesn't necessarily have to do with me, a person (sex, teasing).
I've been relying on such a strong characteristic of style to speak volumes for me. The Diva is a crutch. I'm addicted to her, and being her. The attention. That's all she thrives on, that's all she is. And that's all people see. That isn't the person I should strive to be. Correction: that isn't the person I want to be.
So how do you fix something that's defined you for a good deal of your life? How do you kill a part of you that worms its way out into the open and doesn't go queitly?
With a shotgun, that's how.
But really? Finding substence. Learning about things, developing a real interest in things and existing not as a doll, but as human being. But I don't know the first thing about that.
And maybe that's a consequence of surrounding myself with people who didn't ask for more of me. We satisfied ourselves on simply being a mirror that reflected the size of our egos and nothing more. Ugh. There's so much work to do.
So I'll learn. And I'll learn fast. It's the fear of losing my place in society as an actual person that overrides the fear of not being an interesting person. It's the fear of being loved for something people don't know isn't there. Looking at what I've got now, I don't have anything to lose.
Oy muffins.
I've been relying on such a strong characteristic of style to speak volumes for me. The Diva is a crutch. I'm addicted to her, and being her. The attention. That's all she thrives on, that's all she is. And that's all people see. That isn't the person I should strive to be. Correction: that isn't the person I want to be.
So how do you fix something that's defined you for a good deal of your life? How do you kill a part of you that worms its way out into the open and doesn't go queitly?
With a shotgun, that's how.
But really? Finding substence. Learning about things, developing a real interest in things and existing not as a doll, but as human being. But I don't know the first thing about that.
And maybe that's a consequence of surrounding myself with people who didn't ask for more of me. We satisfied ourselves on simply being a mirror that reflected the size of our egos and nothing more. Ugh. There's so much work to do.
So I'll learn. And I'll learn fast. It's the fear of losing my place in society as an actual person that overrides the fear of not being an interesting person. It's the fear of being loved for something people don't know isn't there. Looking at what I've got now, I don't have anything to lose.
Oy muffins.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Weirdness
That is a particularly brand of people that excells and prides itself on being the weirdest they possibly can be. Why? How? And is it socially acceptable.
I'm weird. I choose to define myself as weird. I dress like a pimp in drag make up for god's sake. I'm morbid. I'm entertained by things that leave people disgruntled. I take my parents' frowning at my appearance as a compliment and I bathe in the stares of passer by. But in all honesty I'm not weird.
Weird simply sounds better than normal. To me at least. And if you're a friend of mine, clearly it sounds better to you too. Because really, in this day and age who wants to be cut from the same cloth as everyone else? I don't. I want to be cut from the clouds on Mount Olympus, with the little pony from Hercules by my side.
For the true "freaks" of this era, it isn't for attention, though we love it. It isn't for fame, or attention, or love, or attention. See where I'm going with this? We stand out, because you put us in category that is seperate from what you know to be normal. That's all. We see someone like us, it's going to be a rocking good time. We see you staring at us with your mouth all agape, we're going to wink and shimmy and be delightful. We see you imitate us because you don't have an inkling of personality to speak of, we're going to stick you in the heart with a sneer and scoff.
So it's not us, that are weird. Oh no no no. Sweetie, that's all you.
I'm weird. I choose to define myself as weird. I dress like a pimp in drag make up for god's sake. I'm morbid. I'm entertained by things that leave people disgruntled. I take my parents' frowning at my appearance as a compliment and I bathe in the stares of passer by. But in all honesty I'm not weird.
Weird simply sounds better than normal. To me at least. And if you're a friend of mine, clearly it sounds better to you too. Because really, in this day and age who wants to be cut from the same cloth as everyone else? I don't. I want to be cut from the clouds on Mount Olympus, with the little pony from Hercules by my side.
For the true "freaks" of this era, it isn't for attention, though we love it. It isn't for fame, or attention, or love, or attention. See where I'm going with this? We stand out, because you put us in category that is seperate from what you know to be normal. That's all. We see someone like us, it's going to be a rocking good time. We see you staring at us with your mouth all agape, we're going to wink and shimmy and be delightful. We see you imitate us because you don't have an inkling of personality to speak of, we're going to stick you in the heart with a sneer and scoff.
So it's not us, that are weird. Oh no no no. Sweetie, that's all you.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
I shot the sheriff
You see, there's this thing. Called your mind.
It typically works in a certain way.
When something unfavorable happens you are conditioned to react a certain way.
Your past experiences affect your reaction greatly.
For example:
If as a child your parents fought, and it upset you. The sounds and tones used in that situation will continue to upset you in your progression through and to adulthood. Even if the original parties are not involved.
My parents fought consistently for a couple years before the divorce. And being a curious child I always listened. I was curious. Now, as my parents have been divorced for several years, explitives such as "Fuck" and "Bitch" still send my heart racing. It makes me so uneasy, I've replaced those same words in my language to "muffin" and "kitten". Call it a coping mechanism if you will.
It's interesting to see how similar people are once you really break it down. We all have problems with relationships. We all are afraid we cannot be loved. We all need to feel loved. The difference comes in in how obtain our so called idea of love.
Mine? I'm not sure. Being the person that I am, I am either absolutely enthralled with you and will go to anything lengths to please you or I generally keep a firm wall of no emotional exposure on my part, and complete and a total emotional poker face when helping you through your moments. It could be abandonment. My mother essentially abandoned me, so there's a longing for maternal care I possess and try to impose on people. It could be simply allowing myself to become disillusioned with the idea of absolute trust stemming from disappointment. It may even have something to do with that pesky inconsistent emotional and intellectual confindence.
Why this topic for tonight? Simple. Extremely emotinal problems do not bother me when I can take them on one at a time. But that's never the way it is, is it? One becomes several and then my inability to cope makes me 1)impulsive and 2) withdrawn. I cannot stand generally angry people or generally unhappy people who never say anything positive and in a world where communication is so wired, what you say holds a lot of sway with people. I happen to be surrounded with these sorts of people. They critize me for their own faults, accuse me of traits I don't possess and believe they know how I'll act in a certain situation. That's another type of person I can't stand, people who think they know you and then never take in the new information of what you aren't.
I'm a typically good person. I can be bitchy, selfish, and indifferent at times but that's on occassion. The sum of my parts should cancel out the stupidity people seem think is there. Eventually, if you and I have been friends long enough and you fall into one of the categories above, you'll see I no longer will care what answer I give you. You essentially make up the story to fit your personal image of me. And that's not to say you have a vendetta against me, that's simply how you are. I can't bothered to be truthful with people who don't acknowledge the truth itself.
Once upon a time, I believed there was something wrong with me. I had to be sick, because people were unhappy with me regardless of what I did. I got so wrapped in pleasing other people, I forgot how to please myself, as cliche as that is. But the further away I got from the source of my depression and anxiety, the less I saw wrong with myself, the more I saw me for what I truly was. Sometimes, being back in California and not in Trinidad, I need to remind myself that I am a truly brilliant person and not the wicked harlot that people seem to love to associate with me.
For all those people with relationship problems, here's a touch of advice.
The more you yell, the less they hear.
but I did not shoot no deputy.
It typically works in a certain way.
When something unfavorable happens you are conditioned to react a certain way.
Your past experiences affect your reaction greatly.
For example:
If as a child your parents fought, and it upset you. The sounds and tones used in that situation will continue to upset you in your progression through and to adulthood. Even if the original parties are not involved.
My parents fought consistently for a couple years before the divorce. And being a curious child I always listened. I was curious. Now, as my parents have been divorced for several years, explitives such as "Fuck" and "Bitch" still send my heart racing. It makes me so uneasy, I've replaced those same words in my language to "muffin" and "kitten". Call it a coping mechanism if you will.
It's interesting to see how similar people are once you really break it down. We all have problems with relationships. We all are afraid we cannot be loved. We all need to feel loved. The difference comes in in how obtain our so called idea of love.
Mine? I'm not sure. Being the person that I am, I am either absolutely enthralled with you and will go to anything lengths to please you or I generally keep a firm wall of no emotional exposure on my part, and complete and a total emotional poker face when helping you through your moments. It could be abandonment. My mother essentially abandoned me, so there's a longing for maternal care I possess and try to impose on people. It could be simply allowing myself to become disillusioned with the idea of absolute trust stemming from disappointment. It may even have something to do with that pesky inconsistent emotional and intellectual confindence.
Why this topic for tonight? Simple. Extremely emotinal problems do not bother me when I can take them on one at a time. But that's never the way it is, is it? One becomes several and then my inability to cope makes me 1)impulsive and 2) withdrawn. I cannot stand generally angry people or generally unhappy people who never say anything positive and in a world where communication is so wired, what you say holds a lot of sway with people. I happen to be surrounded with these sorts of people. They critize me for their own faults, accuse me of traits I don't possess and believe they know how I'll act in a certain situation. That's another type of person I can't stand, people who think they know you and then never take in the new information of what you aren't.
I'm a typically good person. I can be bitchy, selfish, and indifferent at times but that's on occassion. The sum of my parts should cancel out the stupidity people seem think is there. Eventually, if you and I have been friends long enough and you fall into one of the categories above, you'll see I no longer will care what answer I give you. You essentially make up the story to fit your personal image of me. And that's not to say you have a vendetta against me, that's simply how you are. I can't bothered to be truthful with people who don't acknowledge the truth itself.
Once upon a time, I believed there was something wrong with me. I had to be sick, because people were unhappy with me regardless of what I did. I got so wrapped in pleasing other people, I forgot how to please myself, as cliche as that is. But the further away I got from the source of my depression and anxiety, the less I saw wrong with myself, the more I saw me for what I truly was. Sometimes, being back in California and not in Trinidad, I need to remind myself that I am a truly brilliant person and not the wicked harlot that people seem to love to associate with me.
For all those people with relationship problems, here's a touch of advice.
The more you yell, the less they hear.
but I did not shoot no deputy.
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