It's nights like this when I can't sleep, I write. I write pointless, random nonsense that's floating around in my head, so I don't have to carry it with me. But I can't let go of it all, not at all once.
I think I am interest person. If you hang out with me, you're guaranteed to have a good time. Through text, through just that alone, you'd figure I'm some depressed, music-addicted, slightly disturbed Diva of the West Side. But I'm not that person. I just...don't filter anything out. It's all there, I didn't know that's how life worked. I knew that's how games worked. Lie upon lie, doesn't matter. It turns out you have to lie all the time. Maybe someday I'll tell the truth.
I love narcissists. Not because of the abuse they inflict on those who love them, not anymore, but because they love themselves. They're sickeningly obsessed with themselves. I think I envy that. But they are flawed. They can't (or have trouble) disconnecting from themselves. I've never been connected. I just give all the time. It's hard to hold the mask up for so long, but I'm getting better. I'm still perfecting this persona.
I don't look like I'm supposed to be here. I'm too awkward, too frail, too emotional. I hate lying though. It makes me sick. But if I'm myself, I make people sick. A Perfect Lie, right?
...restaurants, out west, some of the best.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
Maybe we should jump
Heads or tails?
-Tails. Do you not own a coin?
It's always more than asking heads or tails.
(I deleted the response to this....oops.)
Metaphors-
I will never be able to look at a coin and just see a coin. Ever. A cup of cocoa is not a steamy warms the soul, hint of caramel, milky chocolate delectable.
*Wait. If a cup of cocoa of ridiculously good cocoa is NOT cocoa, then what the muffin is it?
It is anything I want it to be. I go through life and when I see things, scenes, moments shared, I ask why is this important. Why does it make me happy? Sad? Whatever. A cup of cocoa could be an entirely sexual experience or it could be a really good thing of cocoa. (I have been told I enjoy the entire concept of food and eating it way too much.) But whatever happens with that cup of cocoa is going to lead to something else, and that something might make me think of cocoa. Might not. And thus, I can never see it as just a cup of cocoa. Because it just might mean something.
Thinking-
*You do realize you're wasting your time over thinking all of this nonsense right?
Nope. It happens naturally. When you talk about food, I'm in the kitchen, across the counter from you, looking at the creation you deem worthy to tell me about. (restaurant what the muffin.) You say "I loved fucking Tanya." Well, I'm sorry, I'm going to think about you fucking Tanya. And it'll probably traumatize me. I have to be there, I have to see it, I have to know. Tell a story well once, I'll respect you for basically a long period of time. Fail to hold my attention and I will cut you off, if you dare try again. (There are ways to redeem oneself....)
*So you think about pointless shit and totally detract from the moment. Nice.
Not at all. If anything it heightens it. For me. I don't share my thoughts. People on that normal wave length wouldn't get why I detest Spongebob Squarepants with such an avid passion. He's square, he's simple, and I can't imagine him having sex with anything and this usually no difficult task. (Yeah, I think about sex a lot, but not as much as you think. I think about food and what I could be eating right now, waaaay more.)
Over thinking, it happens, I like it. It reminds me that I am alive. I can feel and experience and if my imagination gets ahead of me, well...someone will stop me.
Drama
"Like OMG, you're just a drama queen."
I am known for being the DIVA. Brightest make up that still remains unrivaled (cirque du soliel, anyone?), the burning passion for whatever I put my mind too and the willingness to be there everyone and do pretty much everything. We, the drama kids, we're talking about the theatre, and apparently, little attempt at Diva calls it HER theatre and HER stage. I only say "that's not right." A girl I hardly know says, "If anyone deserves to call it their theatre it's you." That made me happy. I will not leave and be forgotten. Mmmmm. Personally, honestly, I don't care. I want make something bright, loud, dramatic, comedic. ALL OF IT. For the theatre at my school. It's my senior year. I would consider it a fatal sin to not leave something as bright and obnoxious as myself behind for years to follow to shake their head at.
Like, drama drama, I can't feel it. I have no idea when it's there, when it's not. I don't categorize situations as "high school" and so on. I don't. I can't. So I won't. I'm not a confrontational person. I'm aggressive like hell, sure, but I rarely push, unless I want something more than I respect a person. I will hardly ever go out of my way to mess with people, create drama, and the like. I don't like being a part of it, though I love hearing about it. For some reason it makes me violently happy people are viciously interacting.
Truth-
I have been impressed and that is something I never share.
-Tails. Do you not own a coin?
It's always more than asking heads or tails.
(I deleted the response to this....oops.)
Metaphors-
I will never be able to look at a coin and just see a coin. Ever. A cup of cocoa is not a steamy warms the soul, hint of caramel, milky chocolate delectable.
*Wait. If a cup of cocoa of ridiculously good cocoa is NOT cocoa, then what the muffin is it?
It is anything I want it to be. I go through life and when I see things, scenes, moments shared, I ask why is this important. Why does it make me happy? Sad? Whatever. A cup of cocoa could be an entirely sexual experience or it could be a really good thing of cocoa. (I have been told I enjoy the entire concept of food and eating it way too much.) But whatever happens with that cup of cocoa is going to lead to something else, and that something might make me think of cocoa. Might not. And thus, I can never see it as just a cup of cocoa. Because it just might mean something.
Thinking-
*You do realize you're wasting your time over thinking all of this nonsense right?
Nope. It happens naturally. When you talk about food, I'm in the kitchen, across the counter from you, looking at the creation you deem worthy to tell me about. (restaurant what the muffin.) You say "I loved fucking Tanya." Well, I'm sorry, I'm going to think about you fucking Tanya. And it'll probably traumatize me. I have to be there, I have to see it, I have to know. Tell a story well once, I'll respect you for basically a long period of time. Fail to hold my attention and I will cut you off, if you dare try again. (There are ways to redeem oneself....)
*So you think about pointless shit and totally detract from the moment. Nice.
Not at all. If anything it heightens it. For me. I don't share my thoughts. People on that normal wave length wouldn't get why I detest Spongebob Squarepants with such an avid passion. He's square, he's simple, and I can't imagine him having sex with anything and this usually no difficult task. (Yeah, I think about sex a lot, but not as much as you think. I think about food and what I could be eating right now, waaaay more.)
Over thinking, it happens, I like it. It reminds me that I am alive. I can feel and experience and if my imagination gets ahead of me, well...someone will stop me.
Drama
"Like OMG, you're just a drama queen."
I am known for being the DIVA. Brightest make up that still remains unrivaled (cirque du soliel, anyone?), the burning passion for whatever I put my mind too and the willingness to be there everyone and do pretty much everything. We, the drama kids, we're talking about the theatre, and apparently, little attempt at Diva calls it HER theatre and HER stage. I only say "that's not right." A girl I hardly know says, "If anyone deserves to call it their theatre it's you." That made me happy. I will not leave and be forgotten. Mmmmm. Personally, honestly, I don't care. I want make something bright, loud, dramatic, comedic. ALL OF IT. For the theatre at my school. It's my senior year. I would consider it a fatal sin to not leave something as bright and obnoxious as myself behind for years to follow to shake their head at.
Like, drama drama, I can't feel it. I have no idea when it's there, when it's not. I don't categorize situations as "high school" and so on. I don't. I can't. So I won't. I'm not a confrontational person. I'm aggressive like hell, sure, but I rarely push, unless I want something more than I respect a person. I will hardly ever go out of my way to mess with people, create drama, and the like. I don't like being a part of it, though I love hearing about it. For some reason it makes me violently happy people are viciously interacting.
Truth-
I have been impressed and that is something I never share.
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
You're trying to trick me
I didn't know I was annoying people. I'm just way too
obsessive?
clingy?
needy?
one of those things. Maybe that's why I'm so uninteresting. I give too quickly and it's no like anything will change within the day, the week, the month, the year. So why stay? I don't know. I thought I was doing something right and I guess, like always, I was wrong....
mmm, where will I put all my morbid thoughts now? They won't disappear. That's a part of me that can't change. I've tried. But that's the part that people don't like. I don't get it. If I hide it, there's no substance to what I'm saying, the persona I'm displaying. If I share it, too often anyway or even at al right?, then people back away. I'm not trying to please people directly, but by pleasing myself, I sort of please people (because we're sharing in each other's happiness or something like that) and then by pleasing people I please myself more. I'm sort of dependent on people. All people, pretty interesting people especially.
Benefits to being myself:
Honesty with myself and those around me
Happy that I can be so confident to wear such outrageous make up
Some level of confidence in facing the world.
Insomnia (have to take pills to sleep)
No panic attacks
Disadvantages:
Winning less and losing more people
Panic attacks at least every two weeks
Paranoia
Hypersomnia (I slept more when I was stressed out)
Low self-esteem
Lying to make people happy
They seem equal in my eyes. So the question is, Do I want my health to be at risk for the instant gratification that comes with people being happy with me?
I think I do.
I have to hide me.
Like old times.
So this should be no problem.
obsessive?
clingy?
needy?
one of those things. Maybe that's why I'm so uninteresting. I give too quickly and it's no like anything will change within the day, the week, the month, the year. So why stay? I don't know. I thought I was doing something right and I guess, like always, I was wrong....
mmm, where will I put all my morbid thoughts now? They won't disappear. That's a part of me that can't change. I've tried. But that's the part that people don't like. I don't get it. If I hide it, there's no substance to what I'm saying, the persona I'm displaying. If I share it, too often anyway or even at al right?, then people back away. I'm not trying to please people directly, but by pleasing myself, I sort of please people (because we're sharing in each other's happiness or something like that) and then by pleasing people I please myself more. I'm sort of dependent on people. All people, pretty interesting people especially.
Benefits to being myself:
Honesty with myself and those around me
Happy that I can be so confident to wear such outrageous make up
Some level of confidence in facing the world.
Insomnia (have to take pills to sleep)
No panic attacks
Disadvantages:
Winning less and losing more people
Panic attacks at least every two weeks
Paranoia
Hypersomnia (I slept more when I was stressed out)
Low self-esteem
Lying to make people happy
They seem equal in my eyes. So the question is, Do I want my health to be at risk for the instant gratification that comes with people being happy with me?
I think I do.
I have to hide me.
Like old times.
So this should be no problem.
Monday, September 7, 2009
I don't mind changing my disguse
I hate being ignored. Not nearly as much as most things in life, but it's up there with ways to piss me off quickly.
It shouldn't matter. It really shouldn't. I can't lash out at this person, because it isn't technically their fault. I demand a lot of attention at first sure, but the more readily you respond the less I'll come to you for attention. My interest in you won't necessarily fade, it'll just be less of necessity to force my personality down your throat. Maybe it's horrible, but I kind of don't care. I'm tried of having to neglect my wants, my needs, my homework in some cases, so someone else can have their Diva moment. I'm all for sharing the spotlight, but not if it costs me or if I do, in those rare instances, decline.
Maybe it is too much of a strain. I'm asking way too much of people. "Love me." "Feed me." Maybe I should shut up and crawl back into that morbid place of my mind. I certainly can't just unleash on the world so quickly...so easily...so by myself.
Give or take? Love or hate? Destroy or savour? I can't have both. Not like you can. No, I'm a person of extremes and it's either completely dominant or sickeningly submissive. You can't get moderation in the beginning with me. That takes effort my dear, and you haven't proven your worth. Everyone else, they're lucky if they get my attention once a week, much less a month. If you're new and I like you, you'd best pretend to love me, or I'll hurt you the only way I know how.
With a knife in your femoral artery of course.
It shouldn't matter. It really shouldn't. I can't lash out at this person, because it isn't technically their fault. I demand a lot of attention at first sure, but the more readily you respond the less I'll come to you for attention. My interest in you won't necessarily fade, it'll just be less of necessity to force my personality down your throat. Maybe it's horrible, but I kind of don't care. I'm tried of having to neglect my wants, my needs, my homework in some cases, so someone else can have their Diva moment. I'm all for sharing the spotlight, but not if it costs me or if I do, in those rare instances, decline.
Maybe it is too much of a strain. I'm asking way too much of people. "Love me." "Feed me." Maybe I should shut up and crawl back into that morbid place of my mind. I certainly can't just unleash on the world so quickly...so easily...so by myself.
Give or take? Love or hate? Destroy or savour? I can't have both. Not like you can. No, I'm a person of extremes and it's either completely dominant or sickeningly submissive. You can't get moderation in the beginning with me. That takes effort my dear, and you haven't proven your worth. Everyone else, they're lucky if they get my attention once a week, much less a month. If you're new and I like you, you'd best pretend to love me, or I'll hurt you the only way I know how.
With a knife in your femoral artery of course.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
happuness is more than a more gun
I don't think I can be mad at the people who create myspace profiles for their favorite characters and things of that nature. I've never done it. I always created a new character for whatever story I was reading. My narcissistic side refuses to let me take disregard the opportunity to graffiti my personality all over someone else's work. But this isn't about me. This is about them.
I can't get annoyed with it. I can't say it's stupid. It's sort of, in it's weird way, character building. These people are taking what is already a halfway developed person and then forcing themselves to fit into that particular persona. Most of the time, (I'm slightly sure) they go out acting like this character, and I don't mean cosplay, I mean these people actually want whatever people say about them to be, "Oh, I know, you know Bella, I mean, Tanya....". But this is why it will always fail, the persona cannot hold its shape:
The experiences that this "character" goes through in life does not and will not mirror the actual character's. Those experiences will shape the persona into something different and eventually, at some point, they will realize that they are not that character and they will go on with some shattered remains of personality, mold into something original (as cliche as it might seem to whoever, whatever) and be better for it.
I can't feel anything more than some sort of respect, (mild respect) for them. It's one thing to change your name and behave as if your life is a particular story. It's another entirely to take a character many (more or less) people know and have interpreted differently and boast proudly, "No. I'm right. You missed this point here." THAT takes balls my dear friends. And that is why I can't dislike the little 14 year-old Alice Cullen in Morgan Hill, that Myspace seems to think I would like to add.
I can't get annoyed with it. I can't say it's stupid. It's sort of, in it's weird way, character building. These people are taking what is already a halfway developed person and then forcing themselves to fit into that particular persona. Most of the time, (I'm slightly sure) they go out acting like this character, and I don't mean cosplay, I mean these people actually want whatever people say about them to be, "Oh, I know, you know Bella, I mean, Tanya....". But this is why it will always fail, the persona cannot hold its shape:
The experiences that this "character" goes through in life does not and will not mirror the actual character's. Those experiences will shape the persona into something different and eventually, at some point, they will realize that they are not that character and they will go on with some shattered remains of personality, mold into something original (as cliche as it might seem to whoever, whatever) and be better for it.
I can't feel anything more than some sort of respect, (mild respect) for them. It's one thing to change your name and behave as if your life is a particular story. It's another entirely to take a character many (more or less) people know and have interpreted differently and boast proudly, "No. I'm right. You missed this point here." THAT takes balls my dear friends. And that is why I can't dislike the little 14 year-old Alice Cullen in Morgan Hill, that Myspace seems to think I would like to add.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Lovecraft in Brooklyn
I know it's nothing. Every single time I let go and trust someone, it feels good, sure, but then I end up getting hurt. It's like my heart imploded and my blood has run cold. I don't like many and I respect fewer. I don't usually give my real name out for a ridiculous variety of reasons. I don't like the person I'm supposed to be, and yesterday I was met with the horrible realization as much as I try I will never be what anyone wants. I can't live up to their expectations. Eventually I'll be a disappointment. Who am I supposed to be? Who am I supposed to want to be?
Be yourself.
I've been bending over backwards trying to be something for everyone for sixteen years. This past year was spent, in vain, trying to find something, anything that wasn't passed upon another person wanting me. I have no idea who I am. I don't want to make the wrong choice, (though by some awesome magic, I do.) I don't want to be rejected. So many holes and nothing to fill them.
Keep your distance, it's all temporary. I lie because I don't think people care enough to hear the truth. What's funny is I can't remember the last time I lied.
I can't trust blindly. Anything that involves letting someone else getting close to me in any way, simply won't happen. Learn everything, share nothing. If I could accept that so plainly I would be okay, but I can't. I'm not. Okay. I can't sleep for long these days, five hours max. I drink coffee by the pot, not a cup in the morning, a cup at night. Around five cups I can sleep. All these little problems are connected. I just wish. I just wish someone was as interested in me as I am in them.
Sure:
I don't feel loved.
I don't feel wanted.
I forget what reason I gave myself to try to be someone.
Maybe:
I'll just keeping being everyone's toy.
At least, that is familiar.
Be yourself.
I've been bending over backwards trying to be something for everyone for sixteen years. This past year was spent, in vain, trying to find something, anything that wasn't passed upon another person wanting me. I have no idea who I am. I don't want to make the wrong choice, (though by some awesome magic, I do.) I don't want to be rejected. So many holes and nothing to fill them.
Keep your distance, it's all temporary. I lie because I don't think people care enough to hear the truth. What's funny is I can't remember the last time I lied.
I can't trust blindly. Anything that involves letting someone else getting close to me in any way, simply won't happen. Learn everything, share nothing. If I could accept that so plainly I would be okay, but I can't. I'm not. Okay. I can't sleep for long these days, five hours max. I drink coffee by the pot, not a cup in the morning, a cup at night. Around five cups I can sleep. All these little problems are connected. I just wish. I just wish someone was as interested in me as I am in them.
Sure:
I don't feel loved.
I don't feel wanted.
I forget what reason I gave myself to try to be someone.
Maybe:
I'll just keeping being everyone's toy.
At least, that is familiar.
Monday, July 6, 2009
One day I'll make brownies.
Someone left something on the counter last night. There is a huge mess. Of ants. Ants and stale food. Good morning to you too.
I don't have half the confidence to live my life the way I would like to. I don't have the confidence to say no or to just watch. It's almost out of habit that I participate. I have to. Regardless of telling myself, "Not this time." If anyone tried to help me with this, I would be offended. I would think they're trying to tell me, "Look you're a nice person, we like you, but we're going to distant ourselves from you. You're trouble and we can't handle trouble." Apparently that was theme of last week. I'm pretty sure that most people would get defensive and keep doing the thing that got them this reputation of trouble more, but if I'm not like that. I note who likes what, who likes who, what someone's favorite drink is. Whatever. I change and I have to wait for someone new to see.
Life is turning out to be one big guilt trip after another.
I don't think I'm a bad person. Not entirely at least. I just have moments where I get sick of going out of my way for someone and the same people telling me I don't do anything. It feels a lot like I'm handing you a cake and you're slapping me in the face.
I don't like fighting. Physically. Verbally, eh, different story, but physically I can't handle.
"Afraid you'll get hurt....? W.I.M.P."
That's not it at all. It's the fear of there being a point where I'll be on top/winning/presented with the opportunity to either keep slamming a person's face against the pavement or stop. I'm afraid I'll like it too much and keep going to the damage is irreversible. I've gotten in fights before, when I was younger, recently, like three years ago and I didn't stop hurting them till someone made me. That's why I don't fight. Ever. You could keep beating me up and the most I would do is move away from you.
I'm like a panther. A caged panther. Nice to look at, hard to befriend.
Before it was people not liking me and now, I'm sure they're avoiding me. Which doesn't hurt me, much. It just means I'll be keeping my distance from everyone. I'm a little tired of fixing bridges. Maybe I'm just a little tired of burning them.
I don't have half the confidence to live my life the way I would like to. I don't have the confidence to say no or to just watch. It's almost out of habit that I participate. I have to. Regardless of telling myself, "Not this time." If anyone tried to help me with this, I would be offended. I would think they're trying to tell me, "Look you're a nice person, we like you, but we're going to distant ourselves from you. You're trouble and we can't handle trouble." Apparently that was theme of last week. I'm pretty sure that most people would get defensive and keep doing the thing that got them this reputation of trouble more, but if I'm not like that. I note who likes what, who likes who, what someone's favorite drink is. Whatever. I change and I have to wait for someone new to see.
Life is turning out to be one big guilt trip after another.
I don't think I'm a bad person. Not entirely at least. I just have moments where I get sick of going out of my way for someone and the same people telling me I don't do anything. It feels a lot like I'm handing you a cake and you're slapping me in the face.
I don't like fighting. Physically. Verbally, eh, different story, but physically I can't handle.
"Afraid you'll get hurt....? W.I.M.P."
That's not it at all. It's the fear of there being a point where I'll be on top/winning/presented with the opportunity to either keep slamming a person's face against the pavement or stop. I'm afraid I'll like it too much and keep going to the damage is irreversible. I've gotten in fights before, when I was younger, recently, like three years ago and I didn't stop hurting them till someone made me. That's why I don't fight. Ever. You could keep beating me up and the most I would do is move away from you.
I'm like a panther. A caged panther. Nice to look at, hard to befriend.
Before it was people not liking me and now, I'm sure they're avoiding me. Which doesn't hurt me, much. It just means I'll be keeping my distance from everyone. I'm a little tired of fixing bridges. Maybe I'm just a little tired of burning them.
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