That would be lovely.

I really have nothing fantastic to say. Nothing extravagant, at least. Or rather, nothing that would seem out of the ordinary to any ordinary person.

But honestly, my life is glorious.
The past few weeks have been relieving. Beautiful. Fulfilling.

Oh my God. A weight has been lifted.

Have you ever had one moment in your life that completely 180'd everything? Holy shit.
Words are not enough to describe how great I feel.
And I've actually been eating! You see, I physically cannot eat when I am stressed. I uncontrollably turn into a bitter anorexic girl who stares at food. Today, I had a cookie, a large frozen yogurt (nomz on Culture Shock), a latte (nomz on Gimme), two wraps (nomz on GreenStar), a muffin and a sandwich... and maybe more? That's amazing compared to how I've been.

It's just brilliant seeing myself happy.

I've been surrounding myself with amazing people. Old friends and new.
Talk about the new people that I've met. Jesus Christ. These people are awesome.
I think to myself, "Where were these people all along?" And then, I remember how they came around at a perfect time. Even the people who do not seem like they should be significant in my life, they are.

I love everyone.

And I am really enjoying going out and doing things by myself. I used to hate doing that.

I saw a movie today by myself for the first time. I saw "The Trip." It's about two comedians who play themselves and go on a road trip together. They go to restaurants and judge the food, at the same time as being bloody hilarious. Jesus. They are so brilliant. Their relationship kind of reminds me of one of my friendships. I highly recommend this film. It's a British comedy, so I'm sure that it will serve to only a specific taste (haters...), but oh gosh, everyone should see it. Anyone in the Ithaca area, it's playing at Cinemapolis.
Seeing this movie also reminded me of how good life is with the little things. What means the most. And it taught me how to laugh by myself whilst watching a movie. Strangely, I do not believe that I have ever done that before.



Over the past few weeks, I feel as if I've found myself. You see, right after school finished, I came to a conclusion that I had no idea who I was. I knew how I felt and how I acted, but I just didn't know my actual identity. With various things that have happened, though, after the past month, I clearly am on track. I really enjoy being back to my normal self. I just let things go with the flow. I don't allow too much to get to myself. I just want to live. I only wish to live.

From awesome parties full of nerdy talk to just studying for countless numbers of hours each day in different cafes and such, wow.
I am in love with who I am right now.

And right now, I'm trying to figure out what I want to do.
Get a job and stay in Ithaca? Stay with someone somewhere else, get a job, and move to someplace completely random where I know almost no one? Try to snag an internship far away? Go to school next fall?
Oh God, and I want to see your face again soon.
Should I go to school for journalism first and maybe have two college careers? Or should I major in psychology and minor in journalism at the same time? Eegadz. Too much going on and I like it. I like it all.
Oh God, and I want to see your face again soon.
I guess whatever happens, happens.


I have one specific idea on my mind, though, that I would enjoy greatly if it just happened somehow. In the universe, that this one thing would work out and make my life special and things. Life is special in general, of course. Life is awesome... but just sayin', this stars-in-the-sky action would make me feel super good.
Oh God, that oh-my-rah-adorable.




Okaygorandomstatementtime:
You ignore me for a day, and then expect me to be chipper and hang around?
Kbaino. Assholes get nothing.



And I wish that you'd just be normal, but I guess that this is you being normal. I just hadn't seen it until the end.



I'm kind of worried that I'll end up going back to how I was for almost two years. Though, I then remember how fun my life was and how full life was for myself, and I get very chipper.
I just want one thing to happen soon, and then have a million other great things fall into place.

That would be lovely.


Honestly, I can say it a thousand times, and a thousand times more. I just feel so good about life. I feel so complete, even though I need to get a lot of different things done. I just, wow. Just wow.

I wish that people would have thought provoking/nerdy/geeky conversations with me more.
Anyone.

I'm never interested in the same type of talk again and again.
Small talk.
Unless, of course, there is no other talk for a special situation other than small talk.
But the people who continuously say the same boring shit...does anyone else have this problem?

Lately I've been having FAR more random people talking to me. I don't know if this is because I'm generally more happy now, and therefore more approachable, or if it's because I've been hanging out with myself often. Whatever it is, I like and dislike it. I suppose that it depends on the person and what he/she has to say. For example, today, I got asked by some random wannabe hippies if what was on my face were a labret or ice cream. Why? I have no idea.

Right now, I'm singing to Sia and just having a great night of doing nothing, besides enjoying myself.



I really enjoy life.



Now I am just hoping that I pass my boards exam and get my license.


That would be lovely.


And if more rights would just fall into my life.



That would be lovely.

And I know that it's not just you.

Part I:

This is an account of my past, present and [possibly] future thoughts, feelings and emotions about my own life. How I feel about events, people and the way that we react.

Certain areas of this blog may indeed hurt certain feelings, but I promise that the angst is gone. I must only jot the words down so that I can remember my own emotion.

And how I am okay with it all in the end.




Is this how you treat your friends?

I just remembered about how one of my old co-workers shaved her head in my honour after I left. She's so sweet. She has been through so much. Seems so fearful. I hope that she obtains the life that she deserves, completely.

I've lost fourteen pounds in two months with anorexia! Call to set up your appointment for consultation today and learn how you can lose too!
You know, I really do not enjoy losing weight to a continuous stressful, sinking feeling. On the other hand, though, it's nice to be back to my normal self.

"Because it has to be so lonely to be the only one that's holy."

I wrote a very important letter and he didn't even read it. He promised. He promised a lot of things, though.
"If I could make the same mistake again, I wouldn't change a single thing my friend. Turning back the time will do no good, I'd do it all again if I could."
I just don't understand. How can best friends become so detached?
A part of me is saying that I liked you more when I didn't know you well at all.
Another part of me is hoping that you will understand and actually be my best friend again.
I just cannot get over the concept that he didn't read my letter, though. He didn't even try. That hurts. That was quite possibly the most positive letter, too. I'm broken because I didn't want things to get this way. I'm broken because I watched myself fall from him as he didn't care.
And my fall from grace is a continuum.
I do not believe that he has cared in a long time, though.
It's this thing that I have. A pretty face. Once that is obtained, why try?
I just want someone without the mentality of seeing me as something to bring around. Something to keep company. I make people feel alive and new, because I guess that is just what happens (and for some reason, they then become depressed, want to kill themselves and/or take time off of whatever important thing that they are doing at the time; but really, it's not like I mean it). Then, I either do not feel fitting to them, or I do. Wanting to be with the person, or not. Either way, I tend to end up being avoided and alienated. Disrespected.
For once, I want to be romanced. I don't want to feel like a blow-up doll.
And I wonder if there are any other girls who feel that way. Like intimacy does not even exist. I don't want to feel like I'm in a Frat house every time I want that connection. Life gets boring.
Jesus Christ. To me, forms of writing are so very important. Who would not read a letter?! Especially after a break-up. That pissed me off incredibly. That made me take back the entire last chunk of my writing.

It was my decision. It still bothers me that he just shows no emotion.
In my point of view, it's like he wants nothing. No one. Just vacancy. Or to be disloyal and unfaithful.
That breach of trust just can never be gained back. At least not soon.
And I tried. I tried so hard. For months. There is just nothing left for me to give.

And I see this all of the time. And it pisses me off. Women who would do anything for the boy that she is with. He does something bloody ridiculous, and we are supposed to look over every harsh action. They are "mistakes." We all make mistakes, yes, but there is another person's love involved. Not to mention the amount of self worth that plummets downward.

"Here comes the sadness that I miss so much, that lonely aching comes from every touch. I've grown accustomed to the greys and blacks, because they're always coming back."

A part of me a little while ago felt as this entire relationship try was a waste of time. A bad idea. A mistake in its own. But it's not. I have grown as a person. I have changed my life. Everything is beautiful. And hopefully all of my friendships will thrive, especially the one that seems ruined now.

And I am honestly okay right now. I am actually far more than okay. I have been living a beautiful life for the past week and a half. I don't have to be the only person who tries anymore. I gave up and chose happiness.
"Pain is a signal that you must change something in your life."
This is what I need right now, because otherwise, I'm going simply mad.
I just wanted things to go back to normal. Instead, I was ignored and forgotten. There's this thing called "absolute bullshit" and it is marked in all over your face.

I feel beautiful and wanted now. Liberating, yeah. I have decided to flood myself with good people. The people who have been good to me, even despite some minor mishaps.

My cat Rocky died a few weeks ago. I miss him incredibly. His silly, scratchy meows. His super soft fur being smushed into my face because he headbutts me. Being randomly woken up because a large cat has just jumped onto my legs to cuddle, or is nibbling on my ears at four in the morning for me to get him food. It's like all of my little things have been shut down. I've had him since I was six.
And my mother got two kittens the other day. This makes me happy and furious at the same time. I love the fact that I get to see new life and new minds. I am aggravated that my cat was directly replaced. The most important being to myself. I believe that is disgusting. There are kittens here for all of the wrong reasons. As future "show cats" (UGH), as a replacement, to fill a "void."
A place in my heart is still filled.

But with my little Rocky passing, I found myself with a whole line-up of revelations. So many aspects of my life. So much that I deserve. So much that I need.

I'm okay with things not going the way that I plan.

I have so much to talk about, but it's six in the morning and I haven't slept yet. My insomnia has been skyrocket lately. Maybe I'll post something else in a few days or weeks.

No grudges. No lies. No aching. Just, life.



"This song will become the anthem of your underground. You're two floors down getting high in the back room. If I flooded out your house do you think you'd make it out? Or would you burn up before the water filled your lungs? And at your funeral I will sing the requiem."

"F" is for "Furious."

I thought that I graduated from high school a while ago. And even then, am I strange to believe that human beings should be competent enough even whilst being in high school to not act like a three year old child?

No, I didn't "hook up" with your ex-boyfriend while he was still with you. I'm not into that.
No, I didn't "hook up" with your ex-boyfriend while, nor after he was with you. I have no interest in him. Especially not now.

I have seriously thought about every single person who I have met within the past year, or so. Saying that I am disgusted by about 70% of them is very easy for myself.
You can go ahead and fuck yourself, since no one else will.

Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you too.

I really do not comprehend this targeting process that people have always had with me.
I will do practically anything for practically anyone. I guess that that act just isn't fucking good enough.

You're a douchebag because you said that he had no right to talk about shit that he didn't actually know. That he thought that he knew everything, but he didn't, and that he shouldn't feel as if he does, nor did know anything about any relationship of mine. You're an asshole because you went on to a person's ex-girlfriend and decided to talk shit about me, though you know absolutely nothing.
And I knew it. I knew it all along. You are just like any other girl. A piece of shit, rumour hungry, bullshitting fuckface who feeds off of drama and doesn't just let live. "Drama." What a stupid word. I suppose that the form does coincide with the people associated, though. In simple terms, I think that you are stupid.

And to the girl who this specific douchebag ruined the day of, I am sorry. I never talked to her about anything, except for our own little circle with some other loser who she still obsesses over. Never would I wish for that act to happen to anyone who is still in pain from any kind of relationship loss. Strangely though, you seem very friendly with each other now. Maybe a mutual jealousy? Who the fuck knows.

Interesting. I wonder what else was said.

I don't understand how you could have thought that I wouldn't find out.
Don't do that pretend bullshit.
We aren't playing house.

I just cannot understand the douchebaggery that is going on. That has gone on. I suppose that everything will fall.

I am really glad that I haven't gotten myself into any actual relationship for the past year and practically a half.
I am in constant worry that there is someone so much better out there.
Constant worry of not choosing someone right.
And I am so young, I understand.
I may not have to worry, but I do.
I just don't want to end up with a loser.
Though, it seems like the only people who are around, who have interest in me, and show that interest, just end up being lame.
But maybe that is because I am picky as fuck.

Maybe I should just run.
Inspired to live.
Inspired to give in to the itch. The itch of just leaving, and never telling anyone where I'm going.
Where I'll end up.
No plans ever.
No plans with anyone.
Because I end up hating everyone.

I make friends and have boys at my feet easily, yet I am never satisfied, because they will all always let me down. At least one mannerism, or another. At least one time.

And I cannot explain to you enough how much I hate my inability to have trust in anything.

I want one person, I don't care the relation, to just come into my life, and be amazing.

No rumours.
No ridiculous lies.
No water left in dishes.
No unhealthy dietary habits.
No horrible tastes.

And now I am just rambling.
I just have so much on my mind right now.

I suppose, though, that my inability to trust comes well with human beings. They are so easily untrustworthy. Including myself.

You have been so wrong to me.
So many of you.
I'm not exactly the best person to piss off.

I've really only ever had myself, and apparently, that continues.
I'm okay with it.
I'm not okay that practically everyone I have known does not think that I can even hold my own.
It's all I've ever known to do, and people don't even think that I can do that.
I'm not dating you because I don't want to, not that I don't want to get "hurt."
I'm not a pussy.
I don't need someone to "take care" of me.
No one does.

I just want out.

So, anything that you think of me. Anything that you've probably heard. All of that is, simply put, bullshit.

And you're probably bullshit too.

These words.

Oh God,
Not this again.
Stripped from hope,
Twisted until I bend.
Hopeless romanticism,
Was never common.
The positions,
The holds,
The chains,
Grab your crown.
You've won over the dead.
This heart has never before been clenched.






I can't fucking stand thinking sometimes.
Most of the time.








Whatever this is.
I hate and love it.



And I am sure that every person will know what I'm saying.

They will all understand exactly how I am feeling.

But gosh, it's like nothing anyone has ever felt before.

It's like Clash of the Titans: Certainty vs. Uncertainty.




I wish that.

I wish that things would just fall into place, without giving me time to second guess myself.
Without time to feel unwanted.
Without time to feel abandoned.
Without time to feel threatened.




How can I constantly ask myself if I'm saying the right things?


I just feel complete ache.
So dissembled.
So disgusted.


Yet I feel beautiful.
Well kept.
Wanted.



Why is there never a balance?
This Earth is a flat disk, constantly tilting radically and I have no grip.



"I'm always wishing, I'm always wishing too late for things to go my way; it always ends up the same."




Guess how this post came to be.
You will never get it.
Never fully comprehend.

Clone.

I don't know what is causing this insomnia. Maybe it's the constant thought. Maybe it's the light. Maybe it's my ridiculous sleeping schedule as of late. Maybe it's because I'm starving. Maybe it's that latte that I drank around 8:30.


No matter what, I don't like it.

I feel like getting shit done, but I have nothing to really do that makes sense to do this late... or rather early.

I read two long chapters from a book called Without a Net. I still like none of the characters, which means that I still do not enjoy the real people, since they actually do exist. A real life story about living out of a car with three children. But at least the book is good thus far.

I wrote some random shit down for my faces collection that I'm going to work on. I'd love to actually incorporate a woman's face, but for some off reason I can never really get it down. How hard is it to draw a doll? Apparently really hard. Unless I go into huge detail, then I can just take two months and plow through a realistic portrait of someone. I'm trying to figure out which moods I would like to convey in charcoal, though. I have what I would assume to be angst, something for what I'd presume to be pride, and I have something written down for wrath. I want to do something for romance, "love," whatever you want to call it. I wrote a poem, but I am fairly shotty at love poems, so I am unaware if it is any good, or not. Maybe some of it is good, and I could just detach certain parts, and add others to make it more... my style. Instead of seeming mushy, I suppose. I am not exactly one to write something positive about romantic interaction, ha.
I do want to, though, do my drawings on different kinds of fiber. I've already done one on a regular stretched canvas, but I think that doing one on a paper bag would be awesome. Just anything that I can find, or something. Maybe a piece of wood. Maybe just a large sheet of paper.

And I'm writing about stuff that no one cares to read about.

Lately I've noticed that a song can just completely change my mood.

If I listen to something sad, I become depressed.
If I listen to something revealing, I feel open and breathing.
If I listen to something lovey dovey, I feel immersed in that "crush" feeling.

I don't know if I should just go for the ride of being able to be controlled by lyrics so easily right now, or if I should be a bit wary.
Of course music has always had an effect on my general mood, but the act has always been when I was already feeling the way the music conveyed the artists' moods and feelings.
Now music has been completely controlling the way that I feel.
It's like I am stripped of personality and self control.
But maybe this is a sign. A sign that I should not feel like I am in complete control. That I need to just "go for the ride," so to speak. Delight my life with even more spontaneity than I already do.

It has been a great break from reality.

I want my Third Eye back. Of course, we never lose it, but I mean that I physically want my microdermal back. So badly. I feel so... incomplete.

I haven't posted a blog that has completely ran on tangents in a while.

I am hoping for an extremely rad 2011.

God, I am so fucking hungry.

I watched Scott Pilgrim vs. The World tonight. Finally. That was much overdue. I absolutely loved it.

My hair grows fast. I can't wait until it starts to curl up all adorable again.

I want something really good to happen.

I think that this may be a green Christmas. Tonight felt like Spring.
And I can't wait for stuffing.

I know how I feel right now. I know everything that I need.

Mother, Can I Be Pretty Too?

I am supposed to be a cosmetic prodigy.
I am born to be the most beautiful human being that you have ever laid your eyes upon.
I must create a painted face.
I must have a raw face.
I need to make my hair noticeable.
I need to make my lips plump.
I need to have rosy cheeks and a curvy, yet slim physique.

I am supposed to be a confidentiality.
Every person wants in.
The everyday paparazzi.
The everyday rumour.
The hearsay of my life, whispered through every hall I pass down.
My life, controlled by people who do not know even my name.
My rights, ripped away from my body.

I am supposed to be an intellectual.
How I must yearn for a higher education.
I need to be placed in the corporate machine.
This is how creators are born.
This is how successful people are born.
I must step onto the conveyor belt.
This is what my family wants.
I must take my place in line for debt and embarrassment.

I am supposed to be addicted.
I am the very definition of sober-lacking.
I am the contents of which you journey.
A get away, a path to a door from problems, I am.
Problems that we do not face.
Let go.
Substance has our souls.
Like babies, we are born addicted.
I must shiver from withdrawal.
I must cringe to the knowledge of human awareness.
This is the only place that I must go.
They would never want me to stop the numbing.

I am supposed to be Christ.
I must worship.
Never must I will to go to Hell.
I cannot set my own beliefs and goals.
I cannot set my own regulations, my own commandments.
Never must I believe in anyone else.
Love can only go to the beauteous creator.
Never will my family ever come first.
He gives me all, I never work for myself.
I never live for myself, nor anyone else.
Only Him.

I am.
I am.




With all of this weight, I just cannot fit the slim mold.

I will be awake and suffer with my insecurities.
I will be my own teacher.
I am an architect.
I will reach my meaning through my third eye.
I will not be replaced.
My love is foremost to my life, to my real protectors.
I will be loyal to the ones who revive.
Happiness is my first calling.
I am beautiful, without perfection.

You are beautiful.
By yourself, you are immaculate.
My attention, and everyone else's, you have.
You can have a clear mind.
You can have fresh air as a release.
Our souls.
All of our souls, they intermingle.
Please.
Please see this.
You can be alive.
You can be alive without all of their opposition.
You can be alive without drenched awareness.
Please see me.
Please seek me.

Say my name.

Have you ever thought that nothing was real?

That every single living being was completely fake in our society's "reality"?

How the hypocritical mass of existence is only there to entertain all of the other hypocritical masses?

How human beings only look out for themselves?

How so many people fit the mold, even if they don't feel as if they themselves fit the mold?

Have you ever noticed that the people with any different perspective are shunned?

How those people are looked at as awkward and strange?

What about noticing how extremely intelligent people are thrown to the curb and stomped by people who are so good at memorizing books and mathematical problems?

Did you ever notice the way that popular turns into rubbish, and then turns into popular?

How about watching yourself be a stepping stone for others?

I guess that I am just full of questions.

I have just seen myself as the person who gives others a good time. The person who gives people happiness, but is then just pushed away. I suppose that this is okay for me personally, because I get bored easily, I like to help people, and I honestly can't stand most human interaction. Strange, since I seem so outgoing, is it not?

I suppose that this post is only of my thought process and consciousness, which is surely alright.

I just want to know why I push the people who I actually am interested in being actual friends with away, and to the point where we never really talk. When we do, it's awkward. I just don't understand why I help people to understand themselves and press them toward what they truly want and love, yet I, myself, happen to create destruction for, well, myself.

And this is not saying that everyone who I've strayed away from are people who I have been admiring from afar, because there are people out there who are just no good. But really, I remember certain people and I just cannot understand, even with how self-analytical I am, why I desire to push away from those people, yet be so eagerly attached and pulled to them from a, what might now seem creepy distance. But I promise it's not really at all creepy, just a wish that I had pushed that picnic to happen, or a wish to have not so greatly detached myself from that ever embracing hug that generated true delight from either party, yet I would never show my emotion.

I am never satisfied.