Sunday, January 03, 2010. 1:15 am
My apologies, but this blog has become a childish diary for the time being because I need to get some shit off my back.
Since I am incapable of making a good determination of who is my first ex and who is my second, I'll put it like this:
One of them has become a self-proclaimed (and confirmed) man-whore, but is super stand-offish toward me compared to how he is with his other exs, and even when compared to how close we were after I first broke up with him. The other has reassimilated himself into his previous lifestyle of endless, senseless partying and is generally off my radar aside from the occasional text message.
First I was a straight-backed arty enigma, then I slowly shifted into the skin of a spontaneous sexual deviant, now this? I broke up with both of them. Where the fuck is my fun?
Upon typing this I realize that I am simultaneously both of these people that I've been, and probably more. Definitely more. I am complex. Although it seems that other people don't allow for that much room in a single personality -- not my family and not anyone I know.
I've come to terms with who I was and the things I've done. (Although I do have regrets.) I understand who I am, though I don't like myself much right now. However, I'm still trying to decide who I want to be and what it's going to take to get me there.
So I spent the evening in my new fluffy teal bathrobe sipping a 2004 nebbiolo varietal and sucking on strawberry candies while reading Ken Robinson's The Element and skyping an old friend who had a crush on me when we were kids -- only interrupted when I decided to briefly crash a party to drop off these peanut butter blondies that I baked for Christmas because they were about to go stale.
Monday, December 28, 2009. 7:29 pm
The world has turned its back on me and I'm one more kick to the gut from taking an assload of painkillers and tying a bag around my throat.
I went through school only to be hired for a dead-end job. I can barely stand to spend another day in the same house as my father. There are countless things wrong with my body. My feet, my knees, my heart, my skin, my *wince* genitals, my mental health. Everyone I know is ignoring me for unknown reasons. Even my electronics, those few things I thought I could count on in my time of need, have become as irresponsive as my so called friends. My life has been like crawling through a narrowing gap. I have no one/nothing to calm me down. Maybe if I just keep rubbing my eyes it will all be better?
I keep hoping that I'll be hit by a car -- killed on impact, but at the same time I want to be strong. I tell myself that this misery will pass. Although misery seems to be my default emotion these days. Only overshadowed by distractions that I try to create for myself. Distractions do no good either; I am still overwhelmed by my life's irrevocable state of disarray.
Part of me strongly believes that I was meant for something more. Meant to lead or heal. Something skillful and important. I think I'm finally starting to recognize that those dreams were only some kind of delusion.
I'm not special. I'm nobody.
Where did I go?
Tuesday, July 21, 2009. 4:48 am
Fame isn't what I'm after. Self-obtained luxury is.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009. 1:31 am
As the moon wanes, my redisual failure is smeared into my face.
Monday, July 06, 2009. 1:02 pm
I don't recognize this person.
My thoughts were far more insightful when I was just a girl, pure of heart.
Time, and several undisclosed factors, have turned me into a zipped-lip monstrousity.