I am trying to understand. Really I am, but you must understand me too.
I didn't see myself becoming this person, this social butterfly where, wow oh wow, my phone is going off, and suddenly, I am invited by everyone and their mama to go places, not to forget about my own family social duties and my own agenda. I mean how much of a social life can I have?
Much more than I thought I would ever have. And these people, they care about me. They love me. I love them back. I really do have a circle of friends and I adore it.
BUT I realized that you don't.
And because of that, you spend most of your days alone, and here I am, some days, some nights, I get the hour or two before bed to myself and I think I need more me time because I am not getting my writing done. So please try to understand and not take it personal when I turn you down. We are friends, not a relationship. Thank you.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Ahem
Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me!
EXCUSE ME!
He has officially invaded my psyche.
Fuck.
I dream of him. And it was beautiful.
He didn't start out in it, rather it was me and my little asian princess, my Nessarini and I in a larger version of her house, and we went out to ride around in the midwest apparently, nothing but fields of grass on both sides of the lone ride. But then, I don't know how, in the miles of switching driving back and forth, there was Mikko and Tessie, and that dork in the backseat. And we wound up eating at a restauran, and it was sweet until we left, and Nessa and I ditch everyone, making them walked back to the house.
Once inside the house, Nessa went into a different room and never came out. I look into the telescope and found Mikko and Tessie out on the road still walking.
Then that dork showed up. No shirt on. Apparently he was sick and we were somehow in the same bathroom, me hyperventing, on the verge of being sick, and him being sick with the shits. Eww. I know, and we were sharing a bathroom, and by the time we got cleaned up, somehow we ended ditching most of our clothes. Go figure. From the shits to sex. Only in my dreams and only in reality because people are disgusting like that, haha.
We wound up in this very long living room, and I was still heaving a bit and he was talking to me and I couldn't hear him over my dry heaves. He came closer and I stopped heaving long enough for him to say sarcastically, now that was a good breakfast, and for me to respond, oh Yeah! It's not like it was going to be give up food poisoning or anything.
We laugh and then we wound up having a near hump fest, making out against the wall, luscious lips and wandering hands which stop my heaving and made me blush, and then we stopped the hump fest. We stop because he and I became aware of the fact that we were holding hands. He was holding my left hand with the freckle because I kept staring at the freckle and thinking, he is not holding my hand, it doesn't mean anything, it doesn't matter, it was an accident, I'll just let go and we can go back to messing around, and I did it. I let go of his hand and took it away and he just smiled with an expression of playfulness on his face, and took my hand again. I let go and move it and every time he would grab it, no matter how much I tried to squirm out of it. And every time he would grab a hold of it, he would peck me on the cheek, my neck. He must have done this a dozen times without a word between us and I finally stopped squirming out of his hand holding and I smile like one can only smile in dreams, so bright that it shone up the room. I radiated, could see our own aura like that in the sims2 when you reach your 'zone'. And he kissed me, one of those long kisses that happens in movies that just make you swoon and he dipped me. And I was happy.
And I woke up.
Damnit I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep to that dream.
I know that nothing will happen between me and dork because it has become clear, and yet my psyche shows that even though try as I might detached myself from this silly crush I have on him, that I'm still yearning for this. Not the sex. Not the hump fest. Not the dating part of going out. Or being given gifts. because apparently what I really want is just
holding his hand.
EXCUSE ME!
He has officially invaded my psyche.
Fuck.
I dream of him. And it was beautiful.
He didn't start out in it, rather it was me and my little asian princess, my Nessarini and I in a larger version of her house, and we went out to ride around in the midwest apparently, nothing but fields of grass on both sides of the lone ride. But then, I don't know how, in the miles of switching driving back and forth, there was Mikko and Tessie, and that dork in the backseat. And we wound up eating at a restauran, and it was sweet until we left, and Nessa and I ditch everyone, making them walked back to the house.
Once inside the house, Nessa went into a different room and never came out. I look into the telescope and found Mikko and Tessie out on the road still walking.
Then that dork showed up. No shirt on. Apparently he was sick and we were somehow in the same bathroom, me hyperventing, on the verge of being sick, and him being sick with the shits. Eww. I know, and we were sharing a bathroom, and by the time we got cleaned up, somehow we ended ditching most of our clothes. Go figure. From the shits to sex. Only in my dreams and only in reality because people are disgusting like that, haha.
We wound up in this very long living room, and I was still heaving a bit and he was talking to me and I couldn't hear him over my dry heaves. He came closer and I stopped heaving long enough for him to say sarcastically, now that was a good breakfast, and for me to respond, oh Yeah! It's not like it was going to be give up food poisoning or anything.
We laugh and then we wound up having a near hump fest, making out against the wall, luscious lips and wandering hands which stop my heaving and made me blush, and then we stopped the hump fest. We stop because he and I became aware of the fact that we were holding hands. He was holding my left hand with the freckle because I kept staring at the freckle and thinking, he is not holding my hand, it doesn't mean anything, it doesn't matter, it was an accident, I'll just let go and we can go back to messing around, and I did it. I let go of his hand and took it away and he just smiled with an expression of playfulness on his face, and took my hand again. I let go and move it and every time he would grab it, no matter how much I tried to squirm out of it. And every time he would grab a hold of it, he would peck me on the cheek, my neck. He must have done this a dozen times without a word between us and I finally stopped squirming out of his hand holding and I smile like one can only smile in dreams, so bright that it shone up the room. I radiated, could see our own aura like that in the sims2 when you reach your 'zone'. And he kissed me, one of those long kisses that happens in movies that just make you swoon and he dipped me. And I was happy.
And I woke up.
Damnit I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep to that dream.
I know that nothing will happen between me and dork because it has become clear, and yet my psyche shows that even though try as I might detached myself from this silly crush I have on him, that I'm still yearning for this. Not the sex. Not the hump fest. Not the dating part of going out. Or being given gifts. because apparently what I really want is just
holding his hand.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Looking at the brightside.
It's never me.
This was how I felt in high school. Middle school.
Had that crush on that special guy, watch him all year, wanting him, liking him, even though I didn't know him, memorizing the few words he said to me, memories of my happiness shining so bright at the fact that he acknowledged me. That he spoke to me, that he was nice, and that maybe he did noticed me but he didn't want to admit that he liked me because I wasn't like the other girls. Never was. But that was okay, I kept dreaming of the day that he wouldn't care, him and any other guy after I had a crush on. That, maybe for once they would noticed the slightly pudgy but pretty girl who definitely was a brain, and didn't care for the social effects of it. That he wanted her, wanted me, and that was all he cared about.
It never happened. So many times my dreams would be shattered in front of my own eyes, me chatting with a girl in class and see it happened right before my eyes. The guy would come over and I would get butterflies and then he would approached my classmate. And asked her out right in front of me.
I became nothing more than furniture right then, invisible, not acknowledging the fact that although they were flirting, playing, over a few feet was a girl who's hopes were crush by her crush.
And it's still the same. Nothing has changed.
It's shoved in my face, right there. So clear to see that I am invisible.
That he will chose her over me. Has chosen her over me. This crush of mine, so silly. I should have never crush on him in the first place, because I predicted this.
I thought why should I bother? Sure his texts make me smile but since that's all he does, it won't go further, especially since he hasn't hinted at meeting up, but I have patience. Besides there's no one else out there, but I knew the way he (didn't) text me that he wasn't attracted to me.
I knew it.
And now he has all but admitted he likes someone via facebook. And guess who it is? I don't know but I can tell you who it isn't. Me.
But that's okay. No, really it's okay because it's when reality hits a bit closer to home that I tend to lose myself in my writing, in my dreams, in my relating to absent people than those around me.
I'll be fine. I just should have known better. I'll smile when he gets in a relationship and think 'good for him!' Good for her! I hope they're happy because I am. I am and will be happy with myself. I will not fall into the thought that a relationship will be the answer to my problems. It's just temporarily loneliness. And that temporarily loneliness I will used to my advantage. I will used it in my writing. I will give my pain to my characters and they will be complete with it, and after I finish writing, I will be content with myself and smile at what I have done.
Most of the time. But some of the time, it's not that bad really, I'm just letting it out so that I can let in the new, the self-actualizations, the happiness, so I can remember how
Destiny calls me.
And how destiny will have to come after me because I will be too busy, too fast, too much of everything involved in my life to making it the happiest I can make it that destiny and my dreams will have to catch to me. Because there's nothing else I can do but make the best possible life for myself and enjoy it. Enjoy my destiny, enjoy my living in the moment, just face it, and live it. Do it.
And when I see those couples, when I hear those songs, when I see those updates, and it hurts. All I have to do is grin and bear it, and remember how I am me, and I am an amazing person, and that they have made their choice, and it isn't me, so good luck to them, bravo, and I will do just fine.
Mr. Brightside-The Killers.
This was how I felt in high school. Middle school.
Had that crush on that special guy, watch him all year, wanting him, liking him, even though I didn't know him, memorizing the few words he said to me, memories of my happiness shining so bright at the fact that he acknowledged me. That he spoke to me, that he was nice, and that maybe he did noticed me but he didn't want to admit that he liked me because I wasn't like the other girls. Never was. But that was okay, I kept dreaming of the day that he wouldn't care, him and any other guy after I had a crush on. That, maybe for once they would noticed the slightly pudgy but pretty girl who definitely was a brain, and didn't care for the social effects of it. That he wanted her, wanted me, and that was all he cared about.
It never happened. So many times my dreams would be shattered in front of my own eyes, me chatting with a girl in class and see it happened right before my eyes. The guy would come over and I would get butterflies and then he would approached my classmate. And asked her out right in front of me.
I became nothing more than furniture right then, invisible, not acknowledging the fact that although they were flirting, playing, over a few feet was a girl who's hopes were crush by her crush.
And it's still the same. Nothing has changed.
It's shoved in my face, right there. So clear to see that I am invisible.
That he will chose her over me. Has chosen her over me. This crush of mine, so silly. I should have never crush on him in the first place, because I predicted this.
I thought why should I bother? Sure his texts make me smile but since that's all he does, it won't go further, especially since he hasn't hinted at meeting up, but I have patience. Besides there's no one else out there, but I knew the way he (didn't) text me that he wasn't attracted to me.
I knew it.
And now he has all but admitted he likes someone via facebook. And guess who it is? I don't know but I can tell you who it isn't. Me.
But that's okay. No, really it's okay because it's when reality hits a bit closer to home that I tend to lose myself in my writing, in my dreams, in my relating to absent people than those around me.
I'll be fine. I just should have known better. I'll smile when he gets in a relationship and think 'good for him!' Good for her! I hope they're happy because I am. I am and will be happy with myself. I will not fall into the thought that a relationship will be the answer to my problems. It's just temporarily loneliness. And that temporarily loneliness I will used to my advantage. I will used it in my writing. I will give my pain to my characters and they will be complete with it, and after I finish writing, I will be content with myself and smile at what I have done.
Most of the time. But some of the time, it's not that bad really, I'm just letting it out so that I can let in the new, the self-actualizations, the happiness, so I can remember how
Destiny calls me.
And how destiny will have to come after me because I will be too busy, too fast, too much of everything involved in my life to making it the happiest I can make it that destiny and my dreams will have to catch to me. Because there's nothing else I can do but make the best possible life for myself and enjoy it. Enjoy my destiny, enjoy my living in the moment, just face it, and live it. Do it.
And when I see those couples, when I hear those songs, when I see those updates, and it hurts. All I have to do is grin and bear it, and remember how I am me, and I am an amazing person, and that they have made their choice, and it isn't me, so good luck to them, bravo, and I will do just fine.
Mr. Brightside-The Killers.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
When he came along.
Thank you to the black color Kawasaki bike rider who decided to ride by my house and turn at the corner.
You will never be aware of this but at the moment you decided to cruise on down by my house, there was a young woman who despite her early morning and quick jog, was still feeling the blues from the late night before. She was, at the moment, curl up in a fetal position in her bed, hugging close her only source of comfort, her old raggedy teddy bear, not having the motivation to get up to get her day started, to even eat.
She was feeling sorry for herself, overthinking and bullshitting herself into believing that she will never amount to do anything. Never make her dreams come true, and she felt ugly. She was telling herself, no wonder why no one wanted to date her, she was UGLY. Unattractive, and no man would want her, she was lucky to be in a relationship, but like anything else she did, she told herself, it turn to shit, and everything else would turn to shit that she tried and that just for the moment she was fooling herself into believing that she was doing anything worthwhile to her life.
This and a million other negative thoughts were going through her mind.
Then she heard the sound of the engine, it cut through her, and in that moment, she had to see it.
To see something so beautiful, so full of meaning to her. It brought her out of her slump. (And yes I am referring to myself in the third person haha.)
It brought her out, because cruising by, she didn't just see a guy on a motorcycle turning the corner. She saw her freedom in the way he lean towards the corner. She her independence, her confidence, riding on the seat. How if she could learn to do that, she could be beautiful in the sense of not only fully trusting herself to be able to do anything, but also confident enough to take on the world.
It was a promise she made to herself, not to be scared of anything. To fulfill her potential, and to not keep her desires a secret anymore. It was more about her being herself, than just the fact that the rider might be cute. It was about a hobby, and a form of self expression to the world, not that she was a badass for doing this, she didn't think of herself that way (really she didn't.) It was just her, she wanted to know. She wanted to ride, she wanted to be more of herself, and find herself and her self-actualizations through her metal wet dream, her future in form of a motorcycle. It was about herself. About doing things she only dream of, of making herself happy, make her dreams, her reality, and not letting anyone telling her that she couldn't (he was such an idiot in that sense for telling her own limits to her) and not letting herself stop herself.
About being knowing herself enough to be able to reach her potential, and not stopping herself from it. Not anymore. Just doing it. Dong it and lettin og, and looking forward to the days when she has her licence in her wallet and knows that she did it and be proud of herself, just the way she feels when she's writing and knows that she has 2 books done, safely stored in her email and her computer. Her work. Her dreams. Her potential. Her self-worth. Not proving anything to anyone, but doing it for herself, and that's what brought her out of her sadness. The vision of her fuel-injected suicide machine in all it's beauty and her accomplishments behind it, and behind her, giving her hope. Giving her happiness. Giving her the chance to know herself and live life like she wants to, because that's what it is all about.
So thank you to the black kawasaki rider, even though you'll never know. Thank you, for reminding me to not 'carry the world upon my shoulders', to actually lived. Life's too short and I have self-actualizations to realized, dreams to make realities, places to travel, ambitions to meet, and above all, people to love and appreciate because they love me back and I don't ask for it.
I will not chase my dreams. My dreams will have to chase me to keep up.
You will never be aware of this but at the moment you decided to cruise on down by my house, there was a young woman who despite her early morning and quick jog, was still feeling the blues from the late night before. She was, at the moment, curl up in a fetal position in her bed, hugging close her only source of comfort, her old raggedy teddy bear, not having the motivation to get up to get her day started, to even eat.
She was feeling sorry for herself, overthinking and bullshitting herself into believing that she will never amount to do anything. Never make her dreams come true, and she felt ugly. She was telling herself, no wonder why no one wanted to date her, she was UGLY. Unattractive, and no man would want her, she was lucky to be in a relationship, but like anything else she did, she told herself, it turn to shit, and everything else would turn to shit that she tried and that just for the moment she was fooling herself into believing that she was doing anything worthwhile to her life.
This and a million other negative thoughts were going through her mind.
Then she heard the sound of the engine, it cut through her, and in that moment, she had to see it.
To see something so beautiful, so full of meaning to her. It brought her out of her slump. (And yes I am referring to myself in the third person haha.)
It brought her out, because cruising by, she didn't just see a guy on a motorcycle turning the corner. She saw her freedom in the way he lean towards the corner. She her independence, her confidence, riding on the seat. How if she could learn to do that, she could be beautiful in the sense of not only fully trusting herself to be able to do anything, but also confident enough to take on the world.
It was a promise she made to herself, not to be scared of anything. To fulfill her potential, and to not keep her desires a secret anymore. It was more about her being herself, than just the fact that the rider might be cute. It was about a hobby, and a form of self expression to the world, not that she was a badass for doing this, she didn't think of herself that way (really she didn't.) It was just her, she wanted to know. She wanted to ride, she wanted to be more of herself, and find herself and her self-actualizations through her metal wet dream, her future in form of a motorcycle. It was about herself. About doing things she only dream of, of making herself happy, make her dreams, her reality, and not letting anyone telling her that she couldn't (he was such an idiot in that sense for telling her own limits to her) and not letting herself stop herself.
About being knowing herself enough to be able to reach her potential, and not stopping herself from it. Not anymore. Just doing it. Dong it and lettin og, and looking forward to the days when she has her licence in her wallet and knows that she did it and be proud of herself, just the way she feels when she's writing and knows that she has 2 books done, safely stored in her email and her computer. Her work. Her dreams. Her potential. Her self-worth. Not proving anything to anyone, but doing it for herself, and that's what brought her out of her sadness. The vision of her fuel-injected suicide machine in all it's beauty and her accomplishments behind it, and behind her, giving her hope. Giving her happiness. Giving her the chance to know herself and live life like she wants to, because that's what it is all about.
So thank you to the black kawasaki rider, even though you'll never know. Thank you, for reminding me to not 'carry the world upon my shoulders', to actually lived. Life's too short and I have self-actualizations to realized, dreams to make realities, places to travel, ambitions to meet, and above all, people to love and appreciate because they love me back and I don't ask for it.
I will not chase my dreams. My dreams will have to chase me to keep up.
You know what
Fuck you subconscious. I am through with my personal demons haunting me and limiting myself, so bye.
I wanted everything.
I have been sitting here for the past two hours.
I told myself I would write my novel since the night is mine.
I didn't.
I spent two hours DOING NOTHING. KNOWING NOTHING. Because everything I've work so hard for this last semester. This rebuilding of my life, to make myself a better person, a better friend, to achieve my goals, my self-actualizations amounted to tonight.
Ugly. Fake. Loser.
Liar Liar. Dirty girl. Shameless.
This was coming. I know it the moment I felt my smile weary on my face.
I miss him. He's not here. He won't ever be here again.
He changed my whole world.
fuck. i can't even write this.
I told myself I would write my novel since the night is mine.
I didn't.
I spent two hours DOING NOTHING. KNOWING NOTHING. Because everything I've work so hard for this last semester. This rebuilding of my life, to make myself a better person, a better friend, to achieve my goals, my self-actualizations amounted to tonight.
Ugly. Fake. Loser.
Liar Liar. Dirty girl. Shameless.
This was coming. I know it the moment I felt my smile weary on my face.
I miss him. He's not here. He won't ever be here again.
He changed my whole world.
fuck. i can't even write this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
