Tiss Tiss Tiss Tiss...

I did it.

I let go.

I sent him a message. I laid out all my cards on the table.

Was it stupid of me?

Yes, VERY stupid.

So why did I do it?

Because it was killing me. If one of those, damn if I do, damn if I don't. & I rather not live with the regret of not doing it rather than the regret of doing it.

Whatever comes out of it, will come out of it. True intentions will be revealed or at least I'll know my place. & I rather know my place than have it unknown so I can stop overthinking, and filling up with these expectations and the fact that I rather relate to an absent person than build relationships with those around her. If I don't stop this now or reveal my feelings, I can spend months doing this. Playing the question game back and forth. Talking through technology. Never picking up the phone. I have done this in the past. It was nice, but it wasn't substantial.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I just know that I did this. & in a manner this is stepping out of my comfort zone because before I would have kept texting this over how ever many months he decided to stick around, and would have milked it for all it was worth and then just end up in the same place again. But it's okay.

I did it. I put myself out there. Now if I get shot in the foot about it. Oh well. I have to take a risk or else I won't be living.

Let's just add one more thing, why not?!

I can't relate to her anymore.

& My attempts at relating are shut down and washed out by the sound of her constant TV blaring through my wall.

I'm trying to be her older sister, and for once, would like to talk to her about more than just what problem she couldn't figure out on her homework.

-_- & I wish she would come with me sometimes on my jog so that her body wouldn't become even more grotesquesly huge. If she was a guy, this would be great, but she's a girl. & she will be teased & have body images issues all her life, if she isn't careful.

I'm going to go on my jog now and cuss out my ineptness at motivation & relating

x___x

Adonde?

Where is all this anger coming from?

I was pissed off. Again. Briefly today. I don't think anyone noticed but for ten minutes, all I wanted to do was break something beautiful. I wanted to mutilate and pound and just fuck the shit out of anything that was considered beautiful, including myself. I just got very angry during class & so I wrote.

I wrote in my book, and gave my anger to my main character, poor pitiful little fuckshit geek younger brother Jules with an asthma problem and pimples coming complete with thee yearning for a girl he could never have who will always be living in the shadow of his douchebag older brother who will never be more than a jerk. I gave it to him and read what I wrote and then laid back in my chair and thought...

I am writing a VERY violent book in terms of suburbia and urban settings. No swords. No shields. No epic battles. No royal treachery here. It's all about the losers and winners of high school and how certain choices just rippled through out your whole life. it's about the pummeling and hate between two brothers, even if one is not aware of it and how a little glass jar which holds your brand name coffee brand can become the object of a fight fantasy, a key to winning a fight.

& all of this macho things coming out of me, I think it is me. I've always been neutral in terms of being either girlish or boyish in personality, never super girly (& now only in terms of appearances because I will never squeal over the latest vogue magazine.) And yet all this coming out, it's just because I"m not denying it anymore. it's not I'm becoming a tomboy. it's because it is me. Since I was little, I would read these "male authors", never was into the babysitters club, was into survivor stories and fantasies. This having a motorcycle as my cell wallpaper, and reading palahniuk, bolano, it's just me. Coming to terms of all aspects of my personality. This anger, by taking it out via working out, This is how I deal with things, and fuck society for labeling it male or female. I'm not about to sit down and boohoo over a dish of ice cream. I am stronger than that.

& I still don't know why I've been so angry of late. It just occurs. I guess because I don't go easily into mood swings & control my temper that it is only alone that I let my feelings out. Either through writing it out or through exercising it out.

It's me. I get to know more about myself every day. I tend to look for those self actualizations which can make me into a happier person. & this is a self actualization. I do have male traits to my personality & I accept them. I just hope that one day my family will accept me for me.

My sexuality. My love of bikes.

I won't find out or risk it till I'm on my own.

Which I hope will be very soon. Because I think a girlfriend would be very sweet to have at this point because guys are just confusing me.

Everything except for their cock.

One day, I will come out. One day I will be me. & to hell with what everyone thinks.

But that day won't be today or until I can support myself. & this will be soon. Soon. I will be that person I dreamed of being and be honest about it.

-_-

...How could I have not noticed how fuck up he is? & why is it that I keep thinking- I see where this is going to go & know that I can't do anything to prevent it? I'm trying right now. I'm paying attention because he called me. He reached out for me. I'm just wondering how the hell can I help because I don't think I can.

I'm just going to try to be here for him.

There's nothing else I can do.

I'm fuck either way.

OH & for once I'm not talking about a guy who I like, who I might become romantically entangled with.

This is worse.

This is family.

Fuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccccccccccckkkkkk -____-

Without further proscrantion

Spring Break '10 Reading List!

It was only a week long & I went to Utah (YEEHAW! & the mechanical bull)

Since this is to be a short list- I will detail the books with following of either quotes or my commentary on it.

I started with:

1. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.

My favorite quote:

"Five hundred souls. I carried them in my fingers, like suitcases. Or I'd throw them over my shoulder. It was only the the children I carried in my arms. "

& I am glad that death carried the souls of children in his arms w/such delicate gentleness that it brought upon a love of death through this book that wasn't there before. ♥ This book was beautiful, no mystery as to why it was a runaway bestseller, beloved by bookclubs. Great way to start Spring Break.

2. Diary by Chuck Palahnick.

Now this was on the other side of the spectrum from the Book Thief as far away as you could be. I wrote about this that it's a fuckup mindfuck. Thank you Palahniuk, you never fail to put the weather into perspective for me. Tonight's forecast is mostly clear with little clouds of self-actualizations & a light breeze of self-improvement, self-destruction through sexuality, mocking his style of writing in the book & imitation is just another form of flattery. It was sweetly disturbing to say the least & that's always good.

3.The Word Desire by Ducornet.

That book left much to be desired. It was one of my spontaneous reads (not on my book list, just something I grabbed off the shelf. I'll still do the spontaneous reads & keep an open mind. It wasn't that her stories were bad. I was just expecting something more blood pumping & less existentialist.

4. I am Legend by Richard Matheson, Steve Niles (Graphic Novel)

Steve Niles, Richard Matheson never disappoint, especially in graphic novel form. I am Legend is legendary. Okay that was cheesy. Still :) One of the best graphic novels I've read in years, and I'm being biased because I don't read them very often, but still very nice!

"...His fingers gripped the sheets like frenzied talons." =Fav Quote.


5. Sula by Toni Morrison (Re-read it).

I was halfway through the novel when I came upon the realization that I read it already. I got to the scene with the one leg woman throwing herself out the 2nd floor story window to save her daughter from burning & realized I was reading it- You just don't encounter one legged women throwing themselves out the window in 1920's twice for plot points.

I read it when I was 13-14. It was my first year of reading adult books, not crossover genre & so I was going through the canon obsessively but didn't know that it was the contemporary canon that I was reading out of of.

Still a lovely bittersweet book, very worthy of it's rereading.

6. Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides.

I was expecting this book to completely sweep me away like his another one of his books-The Virgin Suicides, which I became completely obsessed with, bought the movie, the soundtrack, just LOVED LOVED LOVED the book that it is one of my few books that I own & have reread. But Middlesex was not the Virgin Suicides.

It reminded me more of One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Gael Marquez Garcia) combine with Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt), yeah I don't know why I would think of such a strange combo either. The book was stunning, and leaves little doubt as to why it was given the Pulitzer but still was no dream sweeper to me.

6 1/2-Started Cat's Eye by Maragaret Atwood. Didn't finish it, still reading but it's such a different viewpoint in comparison to her other books. I like it very much so :)

One week-5 books, 1 GN. Not bad! Now just waiting on summer for the Summer Reading :D WOOT!

Down to Zero

It always happens like this. When I come back from a trip that I went by myself or someplace I stayed for more than a weekend, I feel like I come back to a second chance to my life. The possibilities I see are endless, & I want to changed it as much as I can to be able to live the best type of life I can. Even though many would argue that I'm doing really good for myself, better than most, ms.university student here with an obsession to reading & writing, and being there for her friends.

But when I come back, I just want to stop saying "tomorrow", & actually do it today.

I come back breathing a new outlook on my own life, & i'm happy with it, but I'm happier for the fact that this is my life, & those changes that I've been putting off, that mellowness, that depression that I fall into sometimes, that courage that I hid behind, they tend to melt away when I see what I can do & I can do so much. So much more. I know I have potential to be the happiest person I can be & right now I'm almost there.

Just a few things to change, but now instead of saying, tomorrow I'll organized that or planned that outing, or later I'll have time to write, or after this meal, it'll be about portion control so that I can work on my needs work.

But now, I actually want to do those things today.

This is why I love traveling, I come back motivated. Inspired. Loved. & fall in love all over again, with the beauty of my life, and appreciate it that much more.

I'm always telling my friends that are less than optimistic that it isn't about the future, like we're waiting for it to drop down one day & announce itself. It's about the choices that we make today that create our future. I preach it but I don't practice it but I'm starting to now because:

It's not about tomorrow, it's about today.

Echoes

Why do I miss him?

Why is that sometimes I'm at a certain place, eating something, looking at something for me, to explore as a person, to shop, to experience, enjoying myself & suddenly out of nowhere, I get this thought like a tiny bomb went off in my fucking head.

"He would love that song like I do & would enjoy it throughly in the car with me."

"He would have made him silly sick with this food I just ate."

"He would have love what I just did."

>_>

It's over. I've move on to a point I think, & yet he still lingers. Will he always linger? Or will he just fade into the background once I find a relationship & not a hookup. I'm glad for the experience of what he put me through, I appreciate that I knew what was a relationship. I don't regret any of our time together, the good & the bad. He helped me realized what to do, or not to do anymore when it comes to relationships & after it, I just realized that the person i was with him was no one compare to the person I am now.

He'll always be my first boyfriend, my first love, but beyond that I wish that any yearning for him would just go away. I don't want to miss him anymore. I know that I don't need to, that I'm beyond that. I believe it's just that connection that I made. The fact that I really thought he was my forever & was dead set upon it. The fact that I would be one of the few lucky girls to be able to say that my first boyfriend was it for me, that I didn't date. That I love him so much that he decided to make me his wife. My dreams changed to fit the idea of a life we would build together.

I had a hope on the bottom of my soul that one day, you would stay with me.

What can I say? Things changed, even though I didn't want to but it's over, & there's nothing left for me to do but to either live with it & myself or go out & make a new beginning. It takes all of my courage to put down the sexuality & honestly try to make that connection with another. I'm trying, I'm really trying now, I'm not ruling it out anymore. & I think if a certain guy here or one living in another city would look at me as beyond a friend, beyond what I can offer, would look at me romantically, then I know how much they would make me smile, they already do. With their text messages & surprise, I even got a call yesterday & my heart leaped out with a giddyness that can only be called heavily crushing on someone.

But that was yesterday, & at the rate I'm burning through guys, I can only trust the fact that as far as guys go, they'll be a new one I'm talking to next week. & that's okay.

But one day, one day I want to get up from the bed, the floor, the chair, the counter, wherever I end up having sex with the guy, & know that it wasn't just for sex.

That one day, I will actually again experience that feeling you get with sleeping with someone who has your heart, not just your body.

That maybe, one day. I will be able to sing softly to myself as I get dressed & he is off in the bathroom somewhere getting cleaned up. Sing softly a song of love, of hope, of falling in love, of trusting him, of feeling the same.

That I would love to love him.