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Twenty something with a brain that wont leave me alone! I write to dilute the electric buzzing in my brain. I am a woman who is like a man who is like a refrigerator. strangers are the only people welcome to this part of my life, so I hope it serves you even a little bit, because it is surely serving me to shout into a slightly populated void.
I am not borrowing trouble that does not belong to me, but unfortunately there's already plenty of trouble I am forced to call my own. that is why I am here. To talk to myself, and maybe the ears passing through.
So, here I am here I am! and im so glad you are, so glad you are.
Entry tags:
Hell Froze Over!
It was cold at first, but we all adjusted. The Floridians took it the hardest, retirees depleted the nations supply of space heaters within a few days. The Announcement came alongside the first ever reports of frostbite from the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. Hell had frozen over! It was VJ day on steroids. The year that followed would make a historian orgasm.
The Browns won the Super Bowl. Lucifer emerged from a drain pipe on fifth avenue to buy a Burberry scarf and gloves. The billionares of the world devoted themselves to philanthropy "just because", and the redistribution of wealth did not tank the economy. Every child found a home, every human was relieved of ailments and addictions. Every human had a home, too. Dogs began to live to 85. Everyone became objectively beautiful, simultaneously removing the capital of aesthetics and increasing the inherent "attractiveness" of our world at once. Chevron stopped fracking, and the bees came back, but they never stung again. It would not matter if they did, allergies ceased to exist too. I finally ate a strawberry.
The stock market liquified itself, the companies decided to redistribute ownership among those who made up the work force, and no one was mad about it. The pigs flew, the cows neighed, the giraffes necks were shortened at once and Americans domesticated them immediately as pets. The government revealed all of its corruption, and the masses responded amicably with a party of hugs and handshakes on the white house front lawn. The former white house, that is. They painted it chartreuse within a week. Demons made snow angels, poets studied medicine, doctors ran improv classes, the Beatles did a reunion tour.
My father apologized, and I forgave him. I saw my dead friends and we ate lava for brunch. I teleported to my grandparents house, and it was un-foreclosed, and they were undead. I pet all of the zombie dogs I loved so dearly. I remember the grief still, but with no knots in my throat to accompany it any longer. I made out with The Rock per his request. I received letters of remorse from every person who did not choose me. Hell had frozen over, and yet you still had not called.
Maybe you boarded one of the free all inclusive cruises around the world they gave out, or flew to Paris with a celebrity to see if they really replaced the Eiffel tower with an actual, singular bobby pin. But that does not seem right. Hell froze over and I got a haircut from Paul Mitchell himself, I wore the crown jewels and I waited by the phone for you. The silence means your call was never impossible.
Hell froze over and I did not hear from you, does that mean you fought harder than I thought you did to leave me alone? Did you still think of me when the underworld was burning and we were warm?
Hell froze over, and you never thought of me again.
The Browns won the Super Bowl. Lucifer emerged from a drain pipe on fifth avenue to buy a Burberry scarf and gloves. The billionares of the world devoted themselves to philanthropy "just because", and the redistribution of wealth did not tank the economy. Every child found a home, every human was relieved of ailments and addictions. Every human had a home, too. Dogs began to live to 85. Everyone became objectively beautiful, simultaneously removing the capital of aesthetics and increasing the inherent "attractiveness" of our world at once. Chevron stopped fracking, and the bees came back, but they never stung again. It would not matter if they did, allergies ceased to exist too. I finally ate a strawberry.
The stock market liquified itself, the companies decided to redistribute ownership among those who made up the work force, and no one was mad about it. The pigs flew, the cows neighed, the giraffes necks were shortened at once and Americans domesticated them immediately as pets. The government revealed all of its corruption, and the masses responded amicably with a party of hugs and handshakes on the white house front lawn. The former white house, that is. They painted it chartreuse within a week. Demons made snow angels, poets studied medicine, doctors ran improv classes, the Beatles did a reunion tour.
My father apologized, and I forgave him. I saw my dead friends and we ate lava for brunch. I teleported to my grandparents house, and it was un-foreclosed, and they were undead. I pet all of the zombie dogs I loved so dearly. I remember the grief still, but with no knots in my throat to accompany it any longer. I made out with The Rock per his request. I received letters of remorse from every person who did not choose me. Hell had frozen over, and yet you still had not called.
Maybe you boarded one of the free all inclusive cruises around the world they gave out, or flew to Paris with a celebrity to see if they really replaced the Eiffel tower with an actual, singular bobby pin. But that does not seem right. Hell froze over and I got a haircut from Paul Mitchell himself, I wore the crown jewels and I waited by the phone for you. The silence means your call was never impossible.
Hell froze over and I did not hear from you, does that mean you fought harder than I thought you did to leave me alone? Did you still think of me when the underworld was burning and we were warm?
Hell froze over, and you never thought of me again.
Entry tags:
The Star You Bought Me Burned Out Today
I drink enough beer to remember folding the blanket on itself to pull you closer to me. I remember the arguments like road trips, so long and grueling they required bathroom breaks. I was always the one driving. I think about the hundreds of miles of emotional space between us, and I reconcile it with the thousand miles physically between us, now. Much like keeping an avoidant gaze towards interesting attractions off the highway exit on real road trips, I cannot miss what I do not see. I don't drive at all, now. I am on trains and buses and my own two feet, which bring me to sets of steps all around the city, and I sit, and I look up because the pigs cannot. I find our star, a different one every night surely, but in that moment it is the one you got me for my birthday.
One too many beers, and about ten too many new bodies in my bed, and I am making eyes at a twinkling light in the black blanket of the night. I see it sparkle, I watch it wink, and it is gone forever. I know I am drunk, I know I am probably just a victim of hazy vision and impaired judgement, but I realize the optical illusion of a star. I realize that to watch it burn out in front of me, means it had already exploded a million years ago. Meaning there never was a star to give me on my birthday, there was never a star to give, at all. I close my eyes. I open them, and I scan for one that looks like your wink again, but it burned out. and I cannot miss what I do not see.
One too many beers, and about ten too many new bodies in my bed, and I am making eyes at a twinkling light in the black blanket of the night. I see it sparkle, I watch it wink, and it is gone forever. I know I am drunk, I know I am probably just a victim of hazy vision and impaired judgement, but I realize the optical illusion of a star. I realize that to watch it burn out in front of me, means it had already exploded a million years ago. Meaning there never was a star to give me on my birthday, there was never a star to give, at all. I close my eyes. I open them, and I scan for one that looks like your wink again, but it burned out. and I cannot miss what I do not see.
Entry tags:
My Oldest Friend, My Saddest Stranger
Hey, You.
You who I smoked weed with, for the first time. You, who I learned to laugh with. You, who saw me as a girl and a teen and a woman and a secret fourth thing neither of us ever really defined. You! You, close enough to me for enough years that your mother thought we were dating. My co-captain, my best friend, my secret keeper.
I remember how it felt to be hurt by you in such striking clarity. The time when we were fifteen, when you decided I was not worth defending. At eighteen, when our soul paths diverged but geography kept us near one another. You, always nearby, learning about your new life through the walls of a dorm. You, getting in your car in the parking lot and avoiding my gaze. You! Texting me out of the blue in our twenties. Juicy developments from our hometown, and only I could understand. You, so precious to me. You, back in my life again!
I find it funny that we seem to live in a cycle with one another. Because again, you melted back to stranger, but remained my neighbor, even in a new state. This city is bigger, but I look for you sometimes, still. I wonder if you have ever seen me? I picture you across from me on the Belmont platform, and I wave, and you wave back, and we leave it at that. I wonder if you miss me. I wonder if you know I am here, too. I won't ever have a best friend like you again, but I wonder if you've found one that holds a candle to me? Was I worth missing? Did I place my burden on you too heavily? I think you really do see me as a stranger, but every reconnection with me felt like slipping into a familiar sweater, eating a comfort meal, and maybe that scared you. Maybe we changed more than I realized, and I just assumed you would always have the characteristics that made you my favorite friend I ever knew forever, and I would love whatever those qualities grew into.
I googled you today. You are doing great things. I miss you. We probably wont ever speak again, but if we did I would only tell you this:
I thank the universe for allowing me to share a city with you time and time again, even if we no longer share thoughts or words or anything, really. I will never not look for you. I will never not root for you, my sad stranger.
Entry tags:
Thoughts On Loving
When I was fifteen years old, I attempted suicide. I wish I could describe to you some perilous condition I was met with, or some asinine event that occurred to spark my decision to swallow two handfuls of my fathers pain medication, but that would be disingenuous. In reality, I was involved in some typical high school drama with an upperclassman, and she told me she was going to take our messages to the principal the next day at school and have me reprimanded for bullying. Knowing that my words have always been knives, and knowing that I had already been suspended once prior that year, my immediate instinct was to best her in the only way I knew how: Ending my own life.
Dramatic, I know, but not an ill fitting for my fifteen year old self. I had lived in black and white my whole life, only choosing one extreme or the other. My reaction to my antagonist was akin to this, as were all arguments and conflicts I found myself involved in. There was no such thing as a "nonissue" or a "petty squabble" to me. I have never met a hill I would not kill myself on.
That being said, I am older now and hindsight is 20/20. I have the wisdom now to know that these impulses are illogical, irrational, and quite frankly unable to be defended. This does not change the fact that they are impulses. They are instinctual in me. When I first attempted to analyze whatever the fuck was wrong with me, I thought I could fix myself and in turn fix my irrational emotions. I was wrong. For me, healing has looked like this: You will always feel the urge to go scorched earth over every little thing. You will always break down in a way that is not proportional to the harm done to you. You will always want to bite. You must simply learn to live with it, and control your responses to these urges enough to where you dont burn every bridge around you and end up isolated and alone, crying about abandonment.
Easier said than done, and also followed by the harsh reality that I wont ever not feel the way I feel. I grappled with this, and it led me to make some harsh decisions for myself. I found that my intensity was best managed in certain environments. I found it easier to maintain my rationality and composure in my friendships first, and I perfected that skill. After some time, I had to apply these new restraints in my family dynamics. This was harder for me, as I had already established my reputation as angsty, short-fused, dramatic, etcetera etcetera. I took it on the chin, leaning on the fruitful products of the work I had done in my friendships, and eventually reached a place where my family was able to recognize a change in my responses to conflict. This felt like a hug to me, this felt like accomplishment.
My line was drawn there. I realized that romantic connection would always spark these emotions in me that were felt at a level of intensity that I simply could not get over, I could not take the necessary beat and allow myself to respond in a way that would prove me a capable lover. In my other platonic dynamics, I was able to take a breathe, recognize my illogical reaction before it was too late, separate and calm myself, be a better person to whoever it was I had decided to have some issue with. Every fight in a romantic connection feels like a thread exposed on my knit sweater of emotions, and one word from a person I am attached to in that way unravels me, entirely. I feel naked, I feel vulnerable, I feel inferior because they do not have their emotional stability tied up in me in the same way, and how could they when I have long been aware that my feelings are not rational? Are not representative of the situation at hand in any capacity?
And so I lived this way, for a long time. I focused on my platonic connections, I built a beautiful life and future for myself. I perfected my role as sister, as friend, as daughter, as cousin. I bring flowers to people's apartments when I visit for the first time. I share my hash browns with the girl I sit next to every day in class. I am devout to my roles, allowing them to hold all of the weight of my heart with many many hands, instead of placing its entirety into two. A beautiful and fulfilling life can be achieved without romantic connections, I told myself. I thought everyone was only convincing themselves they simply HAD to shed their layers and allow one other person to know them fully, they simply felt implored to do so because it is everywhere and in every thing. But to me, it seemed idiotic. Why would I reach for anything more? Why would I attempt to fix something that was not broken, when I am not filled with this urge to be loved in that way? I always understood the appeal, don't misinterpret me, but the cost-benefit analysis always seemed to tip the scales in favor of abstaining from romantic connection.
I learned everything I know about loving someone romantically through the brains of people whom I love platonically. Overwhelmingly, it seemed that our opinions diverged with one simple thing they were all seeking in their partnerships: Understanding. My friends and family were a unified front, telling me that to be loved is to be seen, understood, and wholly accepted in spite of it all. They would relay this to me with soft eyes, tender diction, so softly and endearingly that it allowed the increasing pace of my heartbeat to stand out even more. My brain does not find this idea beautiful, but rather quite terrifying? I can get naked with anyone, but I would rather be dead than to bare my soul. I have shaky hands when I clap at weddings. I have lockjaw during the vows. My friends tell me about melting when they receive tokens of affection, but flowers freeze my chest and make it painful to blink. Another set of things I cant seem to alter instinctively, but have perfected my reaction to for the sake of my platonic companions. In spite of what I may feel about their relationships, I have perfected my "Congratulations!" and my "You guys are so cute together!", and I think I am rather convincing!
Im really not lying when I say these things to the couples I see around me either, I am a lover of love, but I am no lover. I see how it can be beautiful for so many kinds of people, but I just hope that neither of them are like me in any capacity. I watch people in love like a bonfire, but I am at least twenty feet away. I am warmed by it when it carries over to me, I smell it in my best friends hair when I hug her goodbye. The warmed masses are toasty enough to radiate some of the benefits onto me, and they notice my distance but never question me directly. If love is the bonfire the water of my womb was gasoline! I do not need to be warmed, I am only hoping not to freeze. That would be enough for me.
I hope that is true.
Entry tags:
Dissection
"We Have Not Long To Love"
We have not long to love
Light does not stay
The tender things are those
we fold away.
Coarse fabrics are the ones
for common wear.
In silence I have watched you
comb your hair.
Intimate the silence,
dim and warm.
I could but did not, reach
to touch your arm.
I could, but do not, break
that which is still.
(Almost the faintest whisper
would be shrill.)
So moments pass as though
they wished to stay.
We have not long to love.
A night. A day...
(Tennessee Williams)
This poem by Tennessee Williams stuck in my head for weeks after reading it for the first time. He wrote the plays "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof" and "The Glass Menagerie". Themes of tragedy are rampant in most of his works, but that is why this poem stuck out to me, I think. He writes of love so tenderly, and the most pessimistic view he holds about it, is that it is fleeting. Love seems unattainable throughout many of his works, but in this one he seems to have a grasp on it, and he can admire it as something precious while also recognizing that it is not permanent.
Light does not stay, he says. Coarse fabrics are the ones for common wear. Tennessee doesn't see himself as a place for light to remain, he does not believe love is a thing that can be felt often and frequently without the eradication of its existence entirely. I wonder what emotions he classifies as worthy of daily wear. "In silence I have watched you comb your hair." Does he bite his tongue? I picture his intimate words, his kind thoughts spoken like bubbles. I picture him, deeming it worthless to be said if it wont last. He COULD but did NOT reach to touch the arm of the person he observes so fondly.
I feel things so deeply, and it feels so silly to have such strong emotions that punch me in my stomach when I am so aware that they have no place to settle, to stay. I feel like I am the observer that is watching my reason fight with my heart, constantly! I can logic my way out of my emotions, but I cannot stop them from punching me in the gut anyways. I think that is why Tennessee's poem is sticking with me, he seems to try to find somewhere to put it down. He, like me, knows that the place to put it down is not within the ears of another. He, unlike me, is better at letting silence sit. I fear I am the shrill scream, I am the rock that disrupts the still water and causes the ripple, I cannot let calm moments stick around. I am envious of his ability to take the intense feelings of admiration, of love, and let them sit in his belly. I am too afraid to let anything grow roots, even if they are only shallow.
I love this poem. I love to feel seen. I love to think that I am not alone in my acknowledgement of the fleeting nature of love, of how terrifying it is. I know that others face it with grace, I am a coward in that way. I don't think there is a way that love and loss feels to others the way it feels for me. Writers like Tennessee make me think that there is some genetic makeup that I fell victim to, forcing me to feel love in tandem with the loss of it, both of which are like knives in my eyes. Toothpicks under my toenails. I love to feel seen. Maybe one day I will love to feel.
Entry tags:
Dont Squeak!
I wish I had more time to explain, I wish I had someone to explain to. I feel so removed from my safest place, where my sister and my best friend would have never let this happen. I feel so different from every single person I meet. Is it possible that the angel and the devil on my shoulders are swapping shifts? There's not a whole lot of balancing as much as there is pendulum swinging. I feel it swinging like a body from a noose. Am I still evil if I love my friends this much? Am I still wretched if I cry when I see the dead birds on the sidewalk? Am I still good when I hurt you on purpose? When I go for the jugular at the first sign of any conflict? Am I still kind? When I throw my knives with my eyes closed?
The multitudes inside of me are pin-balling off of my bones. The movement heats me up, the pressure makes me scream in your face. The heat makes me spit my venom. I see myself in your eyes, I am seven and I am holding both the blades and the sutures. I am holding the water, I am holding the matches. I am holding the moon for you in admiration, until I am hurling it at you in anger. A woman so opinionated and steadfast, but whiplashing herself into oblivion in all regards, is a pathetic, spineless woman. Maybe the weight of duality took my spine.
The weight of my multitudes vaporized my spine!
The multitudes inside of me are pin-balling off of my bones. The movement heats me up, the pressure makes me scream in your face. The heat makes me spit my venom. I see myself in your eyes, I am seven and I am holding both the blades and the sutures. I am holding the water, I am holding the matches. I am holding the moon for you in admiration, until I am hurling it at you in anger. A woman so opinionated and steadfast, but whiplashing herself into oblivion in all regards, is a pathetic, spineless woman. Maybe the weight of duality took my spine.
The weight of my multitudes vaporized my spine!
Entry tags:
The Relics
Oh, you don't know me, but I know you.
We are sharing sheets! You are warming my side of his bed, you are warming both sides of his brain. I wonder if we used the same towel, I wonder if you miss the hair elastic I stole from the medicine cabinet. We are two three letter names! But I am not Y-O-U, and you of course are H-E-R, T-H-E O-N-E, or so it seems. Worst of all, you are free from the burden of knowing me. You are free from the burden of knowing him, after we get high together and he tells me about how he could have married you. Maybe thats why your name is ringing in my head like this. We even rhyme! And you don't even know who I am.
You were so big to him that there was no option but for you to overflow into me. I feel like I should love you too at this point. We're sharing toothpaste, we're sharing your makeup wipes, we're sharing your lover. I wish you weren't so smart. I wish you didn't seem so undeserving of what he does to you. I think about what I would say to you, if I saw you on the streets that we are also sharing, but who am I to pull the veil fro your ignorance? Who am I to proclaim myself as your inferior? The thought of you is petrifying my brain, like ants in amber, but I won't bring you to this place. I can't reach the pedestal you are on, anyways.
How does a woman who doesn't know I exist make me feel so small?
We are sharing sheets! You are warming my side of his bed, you are warming both sides of his brain. I wonder if we used the same towel, I wonder if you miss the hair elastic I stole from the medicine cabinet. We are two three letter names! But I am not Y-O-U, and you of course are H-E-R, T-H-E O-N-E, or so it seems. Worst of all, you are free from the burden of knowing me. You are free from the burden of knowing him, after we get high together and he tells me about how he could have married you. Maybe thats why your name is ringing in my head like this. We even rhyme! And you don't even know who I am.
You were so big to him that there was no option but for you to overflow into me. I feel like I should love you too at this point. We're sharing toothpaste, we're sharing your makeup wipes, we're sharing your lover. I wish you weren't so smart. I wish you didn't seem so undeserving of what he does to you. I think about what I would say to you, if I saw you on the streets that we are also sharing, but who am I to pull the veil fro your ignorance? Who am I to proclaim myself as your inferior? The thought of you is petrifying my brain, like ants in amber, but I won't bring you to this place. I can't reach the pedestal you are on, anyways.
How does a woman who doesn't know I exist make me feel so small?
Entry tags:
Au Revoir!
I don't care if you leave, but I left one of my elastic hair ties on your nightstand. I'll come get it now, it's necessary. Sentimental. Maybe before you walk away I can dance on your toes, and we have those constellations to rename. Stars to redraw. Supernovas to facilitate in my bedroom. There's that dog we have to pet, I haven't met him yet but I know he will have those eyes you say are too human, and we have to laugh about it of course. Nothing serious. Nothing crazy, no commitments to each other but we have a date. We have a concert. I have a beer that will only kneel to the bottle opener on your keys.
Leave! I told you that was fine, I'm a woman of my word. I just wonder if you want the half drank gatorade in my fridge? I can bring it over. It's taking up too much space. You took up my space! I'm glad to have it back, it's just swallowing me a little. Leave then! I just have one of your socks, I found it when I was laying on the floor, thinking of how many planets it would take to fill a solar system. Thinking about how, after a few drinks, the cold linoleum *almost* feels like your hands.
But I have two hands! I use them to find quarters and pennies, I think I owe you four dollars? We should settle that before you go. It's not my emotions, it's just my integrity. While I'm there maybe I could make you laugh, and that would be for my own selfish reasons. I just need it to spark some creativity in me, to give me an idea. I want to mold the sharp highs of the notes of your laughter into shears! I want to use them to cut your rope, to slice my own tendons and bestow double-jointedness upon me, so i can untie this fucking collar you keep trying to put on me. Being loved like a pet is no trade for the humiliation of being owned. I kill birds and neighborhood cats! I bite I bite. I will never be yours, my tail wags at the thought of doing it all myself.
But maybe we could take a walk before you go?
Leave! I told you that was fine, I'm a woman of my word. I just wonder if you want the half drank gatorade in my fridge? I can bring it over. It's taking up too much space. You took up my space! I'm glad to have it back, it's just swallowing me a little. Leave then! I just have one of your socks, I found it when I was laying on the floor, thinking of how many planets it would take to fill a solar system. Thinking about how, after a few drinks, the cold linoleum *almost* feels like your hands.
But I have two hands! I use them to find quarters and pennies, I think I owe you four dollars? We should settle that before you go. It's not my emotions, it's just my integrity. While I'm there maybe I could make you laugh, and that would be for my own selfish reasons. I just need it to spark some creativity in me, to give me an idea. I want to mold the sharp highs of the notes of your laughter into shears! I want to use them to cut your rope, to slice my own tendons and bestow double-jointedness upon me, so i can untie this fucking collar you keep trying to put on me. Being loved like a pet is no trade for the humiliation of being owned. I kill birds and neighborhood cats! I bite I bite. I will never be yours, my tail wags at the thought of doing it all myself.
But maybe we could take a walk before you go?
Entry tags:
Overboard
I had a nightmare last night where I was on a boat with every person who has ever proclaimed my nastiness to me. You were at the hull. You were steering. It was a death - by - a - thousand - cuts kind of situation. I saw my mother, calling me ornery, I take one slash to the gut. I see my third grade teacher, reminding me how stupid she found me to be, she took out my eye. I spun around, leaking all over splintered wood panels, running and sobbing, and then I saw you. At first you avenged me, you called for it to stop. You descended upon us, all of the people ive scorned turned to you with their mouths foaming, waiting for your permission to finish me off, but it quickly became clear that was a job you had reserved for yourself. You dragged me by my hair. You spat on me. You called me wretched, heinous, heartless, soulless, immature, and evil. I walked the literal plank. You stabbed me in the chest and told me how glad you were that I was finally dead.
Then I woke up, and there you are. A peaceful sleeper, reaching for me with your eyes closed, sliding into your place next to me. Its so easy for me to make you gentle when you are so still. The stupid pirate version of you holds no weight in the real world, I know that. I know that. But I know that you sowed his seeds when you called me those names, and I know you didn't ever really understand my perspective on that conversation. I know that I need to "calm down" I know that I need to "take breathes" I know that you "dont want to talk about this". I know I know I know. I know you're sleeping, and I wonder if I am in there, I wonder if your mind molds the worst versions of me, too? You smile in your sleep. I like to think you're dreaming of the parallel timeline, you and I on a sailboat instead. Maybe a dog. Maybe its a pug. Maybe George. Maybe you call me sweeter things and you feed me strawberries because I'm not allergic in dreams. And we love each other, and we call it that without hesitation.
I turn men like sweet wine into fermented messes. I make kind people angry. I jump ship!
Then I woke up, and there you are. A peaceful sleeper, reaching for me with your eyes closed, sliding into your place next to me. Its so easy for me to make you gentle when you are so still. The stupid pirate version of you holds no weight in the real world, I know that. I know that. But I know that you sowed his seeds when you called me those names, and I know you didn't ever really understand my perspective on that conversation. I know that I need to "calm down" I know that I need to "take breathes" I know that you "dont want to talk about this". I know I know I know. I know you're sleeping, and I wonder if I am in there, I wonder if your mind molds the worst versions of me, too? You smile in your sleep. I like to think you're dreaming of the parallel timeline, you and I on a sailboat instead. Maybe a dog. Maybe its a pug. Maybe George. Maybe you call me sweeter things and you feed me strawberries because I'm not allergic in dreams. And we love each other, and we call it that without hesitation.
I turn men like sweet wine into fermented messes. I make kind people angry. I jump ship!
Entry tags:
You Make Me Nauseous
The first time I saw you, I imagined your name. I saw your hands, and I pictured them interlaced with my small intestine. Cats Cradle. You made my body purr and my back arch. The second time I saw you, I pictured myself drumming my fingers on the buttons of your spine, I wondered if they are made of magnets, and all of the iron in my blood was clawing through my veins to be closer to you.The third time I saw you was the last, because it feels ongoing. I have never met a man so euphoria inducing! I have never met a person so terrifying.
I want your fingerprints on my window pane, breaking in for me when I lock myself out. I want your hair in my bed. I want your gigantic shoes by my front door, I want my other headphone in your ear. I want to feed you my brain for breakfast, I want to enjoy yours for lunch. We can mix them together for dinner, I want to lose sight of where I end and you begin. There is no discernibility for where my bad ends and my good begins.
I bring out angrier sides of you. I make you more like me in the worst ways. What does it mean when you want it so bad but cant stop crushing it in your hands like a tiny, newborn bird? What does it mean when I feed it? When I spit my emotions into its mouth, and let it grow, and it gets harder to kill? What does it mean when I have nightmares where I am covered in your blood? Where you are the bird, where I decide you are too big to kill, where I settle for clipping your wings. I feel like I am flying circles around you. I feel like I am a bird of prey.
I feel like we need to see other people.
I want your fingerprints on my window pane, breaking in for me when I lock myself out. I want your hair in my bed. I want your gigantic shoes by my front door, I want my other headphone in your ear. I want to feed you my brain for breakfast, I want to enjoy yours for lunch. We can mix them together for dinner, I want to lose sight of where I end and you begin. There is no discernibility for where my bad ends and my good begins.
I bring out angrier sides of you. I make you more like me in the worst ways. What does it mean when you want it so bad but cant stop crushing it in your hands like a tiny, newborn bird? What does it mean when I feed it? When I spit my emotions into its mouth, and let it grow, and it gets harder to kill? What does it mean when I have nightmares where I am covered in your blood? Where you are the bird, where I decide you are too big to kill, where I settle for clipping your wings. I feel like I am flying circles around you. I feel like I am a bird of prey.
I feel like we need to see other people.
Entry tags:
Windier Than I Anticipated, Surprisingly
I moved! Up, Out, About, Across, Through, I moved! My mind got bigger and fatter, my body shrunk to fit my one bedroom apartment. Square feet, Cold feet, I wish I missed you more than I do. Im tacking up posters, Im googling how fast the trains go. Im basking on a rock by the lake, Im picturing my brains on the third rail of the subway. I have two bows in my hair, they are tied with hangmans knots. I sent you photos of my first week, all you said was that I looked "so happy", and you couldnt be more wrong, and you couldnt be more right. I am walking everywhere! I am googling the calories it burns. I am going on dates! Which feel like a light kiss from the sun on my cheeks at first, and then feel like sticking my hand into a jar of barbed wire and lemon juice. Im meeting sweet, kind, people, they make me feel demented. In the mirror I seem so sweet. In the mirror I seem so cute. I thought once I was sweet, once I was cute, everything would fall into place for me. It did! and then it did not. I feel lost. Which way is the walgreens? How do. I use the bus? Can I sleep over so soon? Are you thinking about me?
Are you?
Entry tags:
nobody likes you when youre twenty three!
I turned 23 in my hometown. I thought, for the whole night, about a post I saw that said we age, not in a linear fashion but rather in a spiral. Like this:
Time leaves, I remember it, and it comes back to me years later. I feel like this is represented by the fact that I am living in my hometown for the first time since 18, and probably the last. I have fallen in love with this place with the same passion that I used to despise it in my youth. I have rekindled friendships, I have laid on my back for the older brothers of acquaintances I knew as a teenager, I have danced in the places that I cried, I have cried in the places where I graduated, kissed, ate with friends. I am twenty-three in my hometown, and it makes perfect sense for me to turn an odd-numbered-age in such an odd place. I feel like each year I gain, it is used to heal a corrupted mindset I held years prior. Or maybe I am being naive. I am older, I say I am wiser, but I am reckless with my heart in the same familiar way. I don't lend it to predatory men anymore, but it is on the sleeve of my shirt on the floor of someone I wont speak to in two weeks. I am not shapeshifting, like how I did for so much of my youth in this place, but I am screaming "look at me! look at me!" on every social media post, wondering if my childhood classmates are impressed. Wondering if they are perturbed. I feel more myself, but I think I am intimidated by how much I feel the same as I did 8 years ago, sitting on the same bathroom sink. Spinning in the mirror for hours, analyzing my body under watchful and judgy eyes. Piping down for the man, speaking up when I can. I know I am different, but if I am more the same then does that mean I am just as sick as I was? Can I hold so much of my fifteen year old self inside of me without rotting like I did when she WAS me? Who Am I? Why Am I?
I have the fish bag feeling. My brothers pet beta fish in a plastic tub, situated in a cupholder on the drive home while we blare Korn or some other divorced dad rock song. The anxiety of it, easily forgotten in a big and beautiful tank. He has a bubble nest now. A name. I wish I could have told him, when the bass from our music was creating rings above his head: Youre an angel! With fins like wings! We are taking you to heaven!
But he would have swam just the same, anxiously. I feel like BoneJangles. I feel like there is an omnipotent being, cupping my imaginary too-small petsmart cup, shouting at me that these feelings are a necessary evil on the route to my bigger aquarium. My "plenty of fish" maybe. My bubble nest? Who's to say. I am twenty three in my hometown, and I have never felt more like a teenager.
Time leaves, I remember it, and it comes back to me years later. I feel like this is represented by the fact that I am living in my hometown for the first time since 18, and probably the last. I have fallen in love with this place with the same passion that I used to despise it in my youth. I have rekindled friendships, I have laid on my back for the older brothers of acquaintances I knew as a teenager, I have danced in the places that I cried, I have cried in the places where I graduated, kissed, ate with friends. I am twenty-three in my hometown, and it makes perfect sense for me to turn an odd-numbered-age in such an odd place. I feel like each year I gain, it is used to heal a corrupted mindset I held years prior. Or maybe I am being naive. I am older, I say I am wiser, but I am reckless with my heart in the same familiar way. I don't lend it to predatory men anymore, but it is on the sleeve of my shirt on the floor of someone I wont speak to in two weeks. I am not shapeshifting, like how I did for so much of my youth in this place, but I am screaming "look at me! look at me!" on every social media post, wondering if my childhood classmates are impressed. Wondering if they are perturbed. I feel more myself, but I think I am intimidated by how much I feel the same as I did 8 years ago, sitting on the same bathroom sink. Spinning in the mirror for hours, analyzing my body under watchful and judgy eyes. Piping down for the man, speaking up when I can. I know I am different, but if I am more the same then does that mean I am just as sick as I was? Can I hold so much of my fifteen year old self inside of me without rotting like I did when she WAS me? Who Am I? Why Am I?
I have the fish bag feeling. My brothers pet beta fish in a plastic tub, situated in a cupholder on the drive home while we blare Korn or some other divorced dad rock song. The anxiety of it, easily forgotten in a big and beautiful tank. He has a bubble nest now. A name. I wish I could have told him, when the bass from our music was creating rings above his head: Youre an angel! With fins like wings! We are taking you to heaven!
But he would have swam just the same, anxiously. I feel like BoneJangles. I feel like there is an omnipotent being, cupping my imaginary too-small petsmart cup, shouting at me that these feelings are a necessary evil on the route to my bigger aquarium. My "plenty of fish" maybe. My bubble nest? Who's to say. I am twenty three in my hometown, and I have never felt more like a teenager.
Paris, Texas
I want to walk for four years. I want you to look for me. I want to grow a beard, I want to build something. I want to be missed, but also left alone. I want to be left alone, I want to prove I am strong enough to stand on my own. I want to be punished and abandoned. Leaving is leaving all the same, anyways.
I create something miraculous behind my eyes, with every rise in my step, and it disintegrates upon the collision of the ball of my foot and a dry, greedy earth. The lack of worms these days amirite? Makes it harder to be curious. Makes it harder to walk for four years. Im reading all of these books, Im watching all of these films, Im drowning in the fig-tree-allegory of it all.
Im not crazy! Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time. This is just where I am, right now. I'll be somewhere else soon, as we all know:: wherever you go: There You Are.
with <3,
V
Winter
Three years of my life was spent loving him. He did everything right; taking off my shoes, filling up my sodas, dropping whatever he was doing to come and tend to my needs when I was sick. Despite it all, I do not feel the deep and earth shattering loss that I anticipated when I realized that long distance was not going to be functional for us. I dont know whats wrong with me. Everyone I have looped into my new single status seems to feel it deeper than I have, and it has been 2 months. My parents ask about him, my sisters friends joke that "love doesnt exist" if we arent together anymore, and yet I am not profoundly depressed. I am not unable to eat. I am not hesitant about kissing new people. I dont know whats wrong with me. I have this fear that a good man will never hold the same space in my heart as an evil one, and therefore will not devestate me in the same way. Three fucking years together. When I picture myself: seventeen and inconsolable, mourning the loss of a boyfriend who was 5 years my elder, using my mother as a crutch to finally go inside after sobbing and heaving into her arms in the driveway for an hour. I know I was younger then, but it impacted me so deeply. Logically, I know I was in a deeply unhealthy relationship, and maybe thats why I reacted the way I did. Emotionally though? I feel like the thirst for chaos that I have felt licking at my soul has finally proven that I cannot be satisfied with someone who is just plain old kind. I know I loved him. Deeply. I know that he is someone I would build a beautiful life with. So why am I back in my hometown at twenty two, messaging men who have always treated me like a conquest? Why am I excited by the prospect of an argument that ends in shattered plates and passionate make up sex? Why cant I just be normal? Why cant I just commit to him? Why would I let a good man slip through my fingers, just because of some distance? Why does it feel like I took an escape route? He is the greatest loss of my life, and yet I persist like nothing. I dont know what is wrong with me.
Entry tags:
Has it happened yet?
God, have I seen the funniest movie I will ever see? Have I already laughed the hardest I will ever laugh? Have I felt the most physical pain that I will ever feel yet? What about emotionally? Will I have a heartbreak that is even worse than the one I had when I was 13? Will I fall into a deeper love than the one I feel now? If I do, will I have the same doubts about them that I have now? Have I already worn the best outfit I will ever wear? Look the best that I have ever looked? Have I experienced the most authentic friendship I will ever encounter? Are they around, still? If I feel everything so strongly the first time, will the exposure to these emotions desensitize me? Does it hurt less to lose the other parent after the first? Will I outlive my younger sister? My older brother? Will I have a child? Will they die in a horrific accident? Will they be bullied for their body like I was? Will I pass down my mental health issues and lose them to suicide? Will I blame myself and follow them? Will my spouse make it home from work safely every day? Will they cheat on me? Will that hurt? Or did I see it coming? Will I cheat first? Will I try to make it home "because I am not that tipsy" and cost someone else their loved ones life? Will I ever have blood on my hands? Will it eat me alive? Will I stay kind hearted throughout my years? Have I already done the worst thing I have ever done? If I haven't, when I do, will my family still love me? Will the loss of my parents hurt less if I marry a woman, and they never accept her? Have I felt my greatest betrayal? Will I ever stop worrying so much?
Entry tags:
mountain mama!
I am officially in WV! Seeing my best friend in this tiny little town has been a great time, I really love the small town feel and community here. I have a lot of fear about where I want to go to law school because I am so scared to settle down into some state that I dont like. America is so big and versatile and theres so many factors like cost of living, weather, culture, food, etc. I feel like coming from FL has gifted me with being able to find any time of cuisine, learn about different languages and cultures, and also has no snow which is nice. It is so hot though, and even the same temperatures I feel in WV are far more bearable because of the breeze and less humidity. I feel comforted knowing that I could make do in a smaller town, as long as the people are half as friendly as they are here. We have just been hanging, I think my other friend that I came with and I are in very different places mentally and also just maybe not as compatible as I thought we were? But I am realizing that friendship is a choice. It is the effort of choosing to love someone and grow your relationship with them, every day. She has been tremendously anxious this whole trip. I am really trying to give grace and be a good friend but all of her anxiety is surrounding her body and weight and I feel like there is nothing I can say in those situations.
I struggle with my body on a daily basis. For about 6 months I have been trying really hard to get my shit under wraps but I have been fat since I was 9 and I think when she starts saying things about how much she hates her body or how it "must be nice" to be me, it makes me irrationally angry? I spoke with the friend we were visiting when we were in the bathroom at the bar because I could tell that it was getting to her as well. She said she feels stuck because she has gained weight since moving to WV and the hyper-focus on our bodies is killing the vibe. I agreed. We both dont know how to approach the issue, though. I also think that my weight loss has become a sort of subtle competition between me and this friend, as I just have this constant feeling like we are competing with one another. I got put on ADHD medication about 3 months ago which helped me SO MUCH with my binge eating issues. I am now on the other end of this pendulum swing, and I think I have kind of messed up my hunger cues and dont really know how to eat on a good schedule. Obviously, I know this seems like a non-issue to my friend because I am loosing weight, but she knows that I struggled with BED so I just feel weird when she talks about getting on Vyvanse so she can "just not eat like me". I am trying really hard to not only lose weight but to have a better relationship with food as a whole and I think our friendship is just psyching me out because food or working out or hating our bodies gets brought up all the time. It feels like a game of "get skinny, just not skinner than me and dont do it faster than me"
I realize, having said all this, that my first paragraph seems like an idea I am abandoning. I dont want to ignore my own lesson here, and I want to use one of our 7 hour car rides to maybe breach this topic and see how she reacts? I am just really really worried because she does not take lightly to criticisms. Obviously I would not want this to be perceived as criticism, but I think thats how it will be taken. I have never had a convo with her where I did not end up comforting her. I guess I just want this to be a friendship that can withstand, but if that is going to happen then I cannot be afraid to test it? I dunno I guess we will see.
Anyways, tomorrow is our final day here because of tropical storm Debby. We are going to split the drive into 7 hours tomorrow and 7 hours Tuesday. I was really bummed at first because my main thing I was looking forward to was the river, and it looked like that wasnt going to happen anymore, but luckily I have convinced my friend to let us swim for a bit before the drive. Hopefully, it doesnt drain us too much and the weather stays nice and sunny. I think a river is a necessity for wherever I go to law school. I need some body of water that doesnt have amoebas that want to eat my brain, or gators that want to eat me in general. I am so curious to see where I get into school. My friend in WV really wants to move with me wherever I go, which I think will be nice. She looks up apartments in all these different cities and sends me them. However, another side of me feels a lot of fear because I want law school to be something that redefines me, and I am worried that bringing people from my past wont allow this? But I think friendships should also be able to grow and change with you, so I guess that is another test I will have to face. I like the idea of Nashville, Ann Arbor, maybe even Boston? Who knows. Anywhere but FL I guess. Alright I think thats enough writing for now, everyone thinks I am working on my personal statement, which I definitely should be. My friends sister is making us "slutty salmon bowls" so I hope those are good! I am mainly vegetarian with a minor exception for fish on occasion, so I hope that it doesnt upset my stomach too much.
Well, this was fun. I hope we talk soon, dearest void of mine.
Love, Via *kiss kiss*
I struggle with my body on a daily basis. For about 6 months I have been trying really hard to get my shit under wraps but I have been fat since I was 9 and I think when she starts saying things about how much she hates her body or how it "must be nice" to be me, it makes me irrationally angry? I spoke with the friend we were visiting when we were in the bathroom at the bar because I could tell that it was getting to her as well. She said she feels stuck because she has gained weight since moving to WV and the hyper-focus on our bodies is killing the vibe. I agreed. We both dont know how to approach the issue, though. I also think that my weight loss has become a sort of subtle competition between me and this friend, as I just have this constant feeling like we are competing with one another. I got put on ADHD medication about 3 months ago which helped me SO MUCH with my binge eating issues. I am now on the other end of this pendulum swing, and I think I have kind of messed up my hunger cues and dont really know how to eat on a good schedule. Obviously, I know this seems like a non-issue to my friend because I am loosing weight, but she knows that I struggled with BED so I just feel weird when she talks about getting on Vyvanse so she can "just not eat like me". I am trying really hard to not only lose weight but to have a better relationship with food as a whole and I think our friendship is just psyching me out because food or working out or hating our bodies gets brought up all the time. It feels like a game of "get skinny, just not skinner than me and dont do it faster than me"
I realize, having said all this, that my first paragraph seems like an idea I am abandoning. I dont want to ignore my own lesson here, and I want to use one of our 7 hour car rides to maybe breach this topic and see how she reacts? I am just really really worried because she does not take lightly to criticisms. Obviously I would not want this to be perceived as criticism, but I think thats how it will be taken. I have never had a convo with her where I did not end up comforting her. I guess I just want this to be a friendship that can withstand, but if that is going to happen then I cannot be afraid to test it? I dunno I guess we will see.
Anyways, tomorrow is our final day here because of tropical storm Debby. We are going to split the drive into 7 hours tomorrow and 7 hours Tuesday. I was really bummed at first because my main thing I was looking forward to was the river, and it looked like that wasnt going to happen anymore, but luckily I have convinced my friend to let us swim for a bit before the drive. Hopefully, it doesnt drain us too much and the weather stays nice and sunny. I think a river is a necessity for wherever I go to law school. I need some body of water that doesnt have amoebas that want to eat my brain, or gators that want to eat me in general. I am so curious to see where I get into school. My friend in WV really wants to move with me wherever I go, which I think will be nice. She looks up apartments in all these different cities and sends me them. However, another side of me feels a lot of fear because I want law school to be something that redefines me, and I am worried that bringing people from my past wont allow this? But I think friendships should also be able to grow and change with you, so I guess that is another test I will have to face. I like the idea of Nashville, Ann Arbor, maybe even Boston? Who knows. Anywhere but FL I guess. Alright I think thats enough writing for now, everyone thinks I am working on my personal statement, which I definitely should be. My friends sister is making us "slutty salmon bowls" so I hope those are good! I am mainly vegetarian with a minor exception for fish on occasion, so I hope that it doesnt upset my stomach too much.
Well, this was fun. I hope we talk soon, dearest void of mine.
Love, Via *kiss kiss*
On The Road Again
I spent this weekend being pretty productive. I had a date with my boyfriend, we went kayaking in this brackish water canal that has bioluminescence this time of year. That was something very special to experience, the water glowing with each slice of a paddle. We saw the manatees at dusk, but when we circled back in the dark they were glowing. Imaging a manatee barrel rolling in starlight. We saw dolphins, birds, and the sunset, and it was an amazing time. I am beyond happy with J, he is such a special person. But I just don't know how to face the reality of our situation. I am leaving to move back to my home town for 8 months, and then I am moving to a new state for law school. I feel us struggling, and I feel my guilt eating me up. I wish I was confident enough in myself to say that I could do long distance. I know for him I will try, but I also know that our best case scenario is us being long distance for 2 years, but reality says its probably even longer.
I have this idea of us trying, giving it the best shot we can. I know I can do that much, try that hard. Theres also this chance that it is perfect for the situation. I know when I leave for school I will be so busy, I think long distance could be good in this time period because it will allow me to schedule our time I guess? But I also know I will be drained. A big part of me and my quality time is literally just laying in silence. I love his physical presence and I am really struggling with the idea that he just wont be there? How do you go from living with someone, together every single day for 3 years and then boom; once a month if youre lucky. I am really worried about him, too. Hes very reclusive, which has caused us some issues because he really does not like that many people and he likes to spend his time alone. I have no qualms with that, but I fear that he will become a hermit when I leave, which Im worried will stall the path he is on and it will make it harder for us to work. Or it will cause him to rely on me in a way that is not feasible, because I do NOT want to be on FaceTime every minute of every day. I dont know man, it'll all go the way it is going to go and I will be there: coping, accepting.
At the moment, I am driving up to West Virginia to visit my friend who moved away a couple months ago. We left at 7am, so we have roughly 8ish hours left? ETA is like 7pm so hopefully we will get to avoid the mountain driving at night. I am nervous about this trip. I feel weird about my place in the friendships I am in, every single one. I think when you are sitting on the brink of such drastic, transformative change, it makes it easy to feel out of place in all aspects of my life. I am not sure if my friends really like me. I know that I am sick, anxious, yada yada, but I am also pretty smart. I also have felt like I am being duped, or my friends hate me, or people are laughing at me, and EVERY TIME I tell myself that I am paranoid and no one is thinking that hard about me and what I am doing, but then I am proving wrong in the most vile, traumatic, sinister way possible. I wish I was joking but unfortunately I have this running bit where I befriend people who are really mean? I am not sure if its a me thing, or a Florida thing perhaps. I think the town I am from had some especially evil people and it led me to have some really really shitty experiences within my friendships. Hopefully this trip will prove me wrong.
It is almost my turn to drive... I hate road trips man. I dont like cars and I hate sitting for this long. My stomach hurts, I hate pumping gas, I hate using gas station bathrooms, I think I am just meant to be on a plane. I hope this trip gives me a newfound sense of peace or something. I am so happy to get a break from work. That place is a sinking ship if I have ever seen one. An attorney left, our receptionist (and my only friend) is actively applying elsewhere, we are missing documents, no one knows the rules or procedures, its genuinely the most stressful work environment I have ever been in and I have worked in busy ass restaurants with coworkers so strung out on coke that they cant even think. I always thought a desk job would bring some sense of calm when compared to where I came from, but clearly this place proved me wrong. I am off until Tuesday, which is when we will drive back and then I have work on Wednesday. Its not much time, but I am leaving in October so the more time away from work I have, the closer I am to being done with this catty, bitchy place! But also closer to moving back to my home town and leaving my favorite person. Win-lose situation I guess? Anyways, it was lovely to chat! We shall talk soon.
xoxo,
Via <3
I have this idea of us trying, giving it the best shot we can. I know I can do that much, try that hard. Theres also this chance that it is perfect for the situation. I know when I leave for school I will be so busy, I think long distance could be good in this time period because it will allow me to schedule our time I guess? But I also know I will be drained. A big part of me and my quality time is literally just laying in silence. I love his physical presence and I am really struggling with the idea that he just wont be there? How do you go from living with someone, together every single day for 3 years and then boom; once a month if youre lucky. I am really worried about him, too. Hes very reclusive, which has caused us some issues because he really does not like that many people and he likes to spend his time alone. I have no qualms with that, but I fear that he will become a hermit when I leave, which Im worried will stall the path he is on and it will make it harder for us to work. Or it will cause him to rely on me in a way that is not feasible, because I do NOT want to be on FaceTime every minute of every day. I dont know man, it'll all go the way it is going to go and I will be there: coping, accepting.
At the moment, I am driving up to West Virginia to visit my friend who moved away a couple months ago. We left at 7am, so we have roughly 8ish hours left? ETA is like 7pm so hopefully we will get to avoid the mountain driving at night. I am nervous about this trip. I feel weird about my place in the friendships I am in, every single one. I think when you are sitting on the brink of such drastic, transformative change, it makes it easy to feel out of place in all aspects of my life. I am not sure if my friends really like me. I know that I am sick, anxious, yada yada, but I am also pretty smart. I also have felt like I am being duped, or my friends hate me, or people are laughing at me, and EVERY TIME I tell myself that I am paranoid and no one is thinking that hard about me and what I am doing, but then I am proving wrong in the most vile, traumatic, sinister way possible. I wish I was joking but unfortunately I have this running bit where I befriend people who are really mean? I am not sure if its a me thing, or a Florida thing perhaps. I think the town I am from had some especially evil people and it led me to have some really really shitty experiences within my friendships. Hopefully this trip will prove me wrong.
It is almost my turn to drive... I hate road trips man. I dont like cars and I hate sitting for this long. My stomach hurts, I hate pumping gas, I hate using gas station bathrooms, I think I am just meant to be on a plane. I hope this trip gives me a newfound sense of peace or something. I am so happy to get a break from work. That place is a sinking ship if I have ever seen one. An attorney left, our receptionist (and my only friend) is actively applying elsewhere, we are missing documents, no one knows the rules or procedures, its genuinely the most stressful work environment I have ever been in and I have worked in busy ass restaurants with coworkers so strung out on coke that they cant even think. I always thought a desk job would bring some sense of calm when compared to where I came from, but clearly this place proved me wrong. I am off until Tuesday, which is when we will drive back and then I have work on Wednesday. Its not much time, but I am leaving in October so the more time away from work I have, the closer I am to being done with this catty, bitchy place! But also closer to moving back to my home town and leaving my favorite person. Win-lose situation I guess? Anyways, it was lovely to chat! We shall talk soon.
xoxo,
Via <3
Entry tags:
Setting Out To Conquer July 26th, I guess?
It is Thursday night and I do indeed have work in the morning. I have been struggling at my desk job for months, and now I have plans to quit in October but a big part of me wonders if I "dont like the job" like I have been telling myself or if I simply lack work ethic. No one checks on me, and the consequences only come months later when someone realizes that I failed to complete one of my minute, sisyphean tasks. BUT!!!! I want desperately to be better. I heard my boss describe a girl who is applying as a receptionist as an "overachiever" and I just know that is not a word that anyone has ever used to describe me. I have had a way of scraping by my entire life, scraping by on an impressive enough level that no one could ever really reprimand me. This has only led me to wonder what my potential really is, how great I could be. I want to make August my month, I want to try to be an elite, fit, well-adjusted version of myself for a month. Soooo with that being said, here is my to-do list for tomorrow!
Time will tell I suppose! I hope to post an update tomorrow about how achieving my goals went. Goodnight for now my sweet sweet void!
xoxo
Via
I am attempting to soft launch this whole "transformation" of mine, so these next few posts may not seem so revolutionary. Just know that to me, they are.
07//26/2024:
- Actually do my job? For the whole day too, ideally. I have a bad habit of scrolling on Pinterest for like 3 hours instead of doing what I am meant to.
- Clean out my car
- Clean up my room
- See a friend
- Do a workout
- Wash AND STYLE my hair
Time will tell I suppose! I hope to post an update tomorrow about how achieving my goals went. Goodnight for now my sweet sweet void!
xoxo
Via
Entry tags:
Howdy
hello journal!
today I tried to ask myself the questions you ask when trying to get to know someone. I realized I don't know anything about me. I think I have so much desire to be profound and intelligent and impressive and sexy that I am paralyzed. I have never been so stagnant. The last 6 months of my life have been some of the most miserable, and I was fully complicit. I am working a 9-5 job, after college. I am about to begin law school applications in October, and (theres a gun in my mouth as I type this) I am moving back to my home town to save money for that whole endeavor. I dont know where I want to go, what I want to do. I feel this extreme sense of envy for every single other life that I wont live, and I get stuck in this maladaptive-daydreaming hell where I think about the best possible versions of my life and in turn; I do nothing. I feel so lost and unmotivated and just DEEPLY dissatisfied.
I have these plans, dreams of being a polygot, a roller derby champ, a kickball captain i dont know man. I just want to have passion, a spark. I have this big fear of starting things. its like i know i would love to do something, i know the scientific reasons behind why i would feel better if i did something, but instead i just want to push it off. as long as i can. im not too sure what im looking for on this platform, and honestly im not quite sure how it works even but i think i just need to say my piece man. i like the idea of someone maybe hearing it, somehow. i hope to share my deepest darkest fears with you, you compelling little chasm of anonymity. and i hope that this is like a sick documentation of my dope ass evolution where i become a super-star gymnast or learn how to swallow swords. or just become a lawyer. at least that. tomorrow i guess ill introduce myself a little better, but for now i am drinking my diet coke and watching betty la fea, dreaming about all the things that the hotter version of me would be doing (but remaining sat). ok goodnight void. toodles <3