I am calm in form of a person.
I will not be frustrated by her depression.
I will help her anyway I can.
I will be her friend because she is my friend.
We will get through this.
I will be a better friend because life has handed her shit after shit and she doesn't deserve any lack of faith from my part.
I will be her friend.
Monday, May 3, 2010
What I forget
I forget that my mom never took one step into a high school. She left her education unfinished at 7th grade in Mexico that is. She left so she could work. My dad left school because it was dumb for him and started working to take care of himself and his independence because even though my grandma offer education, he turned it down because he couldn't stand living under her thumb. Too immature to grasp that education can equal a career, a career a nice lifestyle while not having to kill himself to earn it.
I forget that their education only extended itself so far by choice or by not having one.
I forget and get irritated sometimes at their ideas of who I am watching or listening lectured online isn't my teacher or my class like they assumed, they don't know what I'm doing, what I'm reading, what I'm writing. What I'm doing. They don't understand and they won't be able to.
They don't know why it irritates me when they barge into my room, time and time again, asking questions, handing me clothes, calling me for stuff. Why is it that I am annoyed because I have to stop what I'm doing and sometimes I come back to my writing and I can't remember what I was going to write, academically or creativity wise.
I forget that they think I can go back right to my work because it's on my computer, waiting. I forget when I get irritated at having to pause right in the middle of a lecture online. I am impatient. I forget when I need to remember their backgrounds and realized that I'm the first in my immediate family to go to college, graduate, continue in Univ. & I'm doing it by myself out here, with little help and what help there is available does not extend to me because I am not family and even then, help for me is only how much I'm willing to help myself.
I am trying to do that, every day. I am trying to improve myself, to improve my life, to hold onto the hope that even though there is little hope, that I can provide for my parents. I am traditionalist in the sense of my family morals and I believe that is good but I keep my hope and try to remember. I keep my hope and I continue to write in that hope.
I forget that their education only extended itself so far by choice or by not having one.
I forget and get irritated sometimes at their ideas of who I am watching or listening lectured online isn't my teacher or my class like they assumed, they don't know what I'm doing, what I'm reading, what I'm writing. What I'm doing. They don't understand and they won't be able to.
They don't know why it irritates me when they barge into my room, time and time again, asking questions, handing me clothes, calling me for stuff. Why is it that I am annoyed because I have to stop what I'm doing and sometimes I come back to my writing and I can't remember what I was going to write, academically or creativity wise.
I forget that they think I can go back right to my work because it's on my computer, waiting. I forget when I get irritated at having to pause right in the middle of a lecture online. I am impatient. I forget when I need to remember their backgrounds and realized that I'm the first in my immediate family to go to college, graduate, continue in Univ. & I'm doing it by myself out here, with little help and what help there is available does not extend to me because I am not family and even then, help for me is only how much I'm willing to help myself.
I am trying to do that, every day. I am trying to improve myself, to improve my life, to hold onto the hope that even though there is little hope, that I can provide for my parents. I am traditionalist in the sense of my family morals and I believe that is good but I keep my hope and try to remember. I keep my hope and I continue to write in that hope.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Truly Me.
It seems that every since I came back from Utah, something clicked.
I realized what I was doing. And more importantly what I wasn't doing.
It came to me that the person I wanted to be, that person I dream of so desperately when I was a teenager, when I was in middle school and found myself sitting by myself for lunch or even high school. I remember the first day, I didn't sit with anyone because of those people I did know, no one wanted to sit with me. And even back in middle school when I tried to join the "artsy" group table, the different kids, there was this one bitch who even asked me, was like I don't like you sitting here, you don't belong.
-_- I remember sitting along sometimes and thinking, this sucks but it's okay, they won't remember me anyway. It doesn't matter because one day they will wake up and find that they will have no friends or just fake friends. I won't be like that. I will care for my friends and have plenty of good times with them. I will actually go out to movies and to eat, and to their houses, and when I have my own place, I will throw little parties, social gatherings, where we would just sit and chat. (Even back then I couldn't picture myself owning a TV) Where we would eat food, and chat, and listen to music, and play silly games like charades (because I never thought of alcohol having the ability to exist in my life lol) Just talk about life, and go to art festivals and just be the social butterfly with a heart that I knew lived within myself.
I remember my other goals, sitting there alone, even when I had a book open in my life, I would see the image of who I had the potential I had to be walk by in the form of my daydreams.
I dream of all my potential and told myself one day I will be that beautifully happy intelligent woman who has taken her life and turn it into something meaningful. Something beautiful. Something real. Not a loser.
I realized that although I've accomplished many of my goals (Tall. Check. Beautiful. Check. Social Butterfly-still working my way there, mostly in the dating aspect but could be consider check, In-shape-just now started working on it and will continue to work on it till I have a body I am comfortable with, Independent-soon, grad school soon, licence's soon, books, halfway there. traveling-sortof check. All that I thought would make me into the happiest person I can be, the person I know I have the potential to be to live the best life I can. I wanted to be that person so bad & thought that by this time, my age, I would be complete in my dreams.
I'm not. In the bigger picture, I am. I am living a mostly happy existence that I would have never thought possible. But I have become lazy because of this happy existence.
I have conformed on a few of the goals that I shouldn't have. And when I returned from Utah, I realized that I don't have that much time before I become independent and I want to be truly me, the picture of me that I have in my mind by the time I am independent so that with my independence I will be the epitome of awesomeness that I owe to myself to be. I deserve to be happy. Truly happy, with myself, and my life. significant other or not, doesn't matter but I also need to discover the balance in dating.
I'm working on it. Everyday, little by little. I am working on the promises I made to myself. I have already accomplishment so much but I still have a way to go. And even if I had do done everything, I will never be complete. 'Never be complete.' I will always work on myself.
I love myself. It took me years to say that. But I realized that I do. I love who I am and I am happy with that. I just need to work on my life and my body shape to be healthy and be able to support another fantasy of mine but that's another story everyone but my family knows and it's staying that way.
I love myself and I will live my life to my happiest that I can, and work my way to the potential I have in myself. My daydreams will become my reality. All of them. Just a matter of time :D
I realized what I was doing. And more importantly what I wasn't doing.
It came to me that the person I wanted to be, that person I dream of so desperately when I was a teenager, when I was in middle school and found myself sitting by myself for lunch or even high school. I remember the first day, I didn't sit with anyone because of those people I did know, no one wanted to sit with me. And even back in middle school when I tried to join the "artsy" group table, the different kids, there was this one bitch who even asked me, was like I don't like you sitting here, you don't belong.
-_- I remember sitting along sometimes and thinking, this sucks but it's okay, they won't remember me anyway. It doesn't matter because one day they will wake up and find that they will have no friends or just fake friends. I won't be like that. I will care for my friends and have plenty of good times with them. I will actually go out to movies and to eat, and to their houses, and when I have my own place, I will throw little parties, social gatherings, where we would just sit and chat. (Even back then I couldn't picture myself owning a TV) Where we would eat food, and chat, and listen to music, and play silly games like charades (because I never thought of alcohol having the ability to exist in my life lol) Just talk about life, and go to art festivals and just be the social butterfly with a heart that I knew lived within myself.
I remember my other goals, sitting there alone, even when I had a book open in my life, I would see the image of who I had the potential I had to be walk by in the form of my daydreams.
I dream of all my potential and told myself one day I will be that beautifully happy intelligent woman who has taken her life and turn it into something meaningful. Something beautiful. Something real. Not a loser.
I realized that although I've accomplished many of my goals (Tall. Check. Beautiful. Check. Social Butterfly-still working my way there, mostly in the dating aspect but could be consider check, In-shape-just now started working on it and will continue to work on it till I have a body I am comfortable with, Independent-soon, grad school soon, licence's soon, books, halfway there. traveling-sortof check. All that I thought would make me into the happiest person I can be, the person I know I have the potential to be to live the best life I can. I wanted to be that person so bad & thought that by this time, my age, I would be complete in my dreams.
I'm not. In the bigger picture, I am. I am living a mostly happy existence that I would have never thought possible. But I have become lazy because of this happy existence.
I have conformed on a few of the goals that I shouldn't have. And when I returned from Utah, I realized that I don't have that much time before I become independent and I want to be truly me, the picture of me that I have in my mind by the time I am independent so that with my independence I will be the epitome of awesomeness that I owe to myself to be. I deserve to be happy. Truly happy, with myself, and my life. significant other or not, doesn't matter but I also need to discover the balance in dating.
I'm working on it. Everyday, little by little. I am working on the promises I made to myself. I have already accomplishment so much but I still have a way to go. And even if I had do done everything, I will never be complete. 'Never be complete.' I will always work on myself.
I love myself. It took me years to say that. But I realized that I do. I love who I am and I am happy with that. I just need to work on my life and my body shape to be healthy and be able to support another fantasy of mine but that's another story everyone but my family knows and it's staying that way.
I love myself and I will live my life to my happiest that I can, and work my way to the potential I have in myself. My daydreams will become my reality. All of them. Just a matter of time :D
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Lying with her eyes while her hands are busy working overtime.
I need a drink.
Someone give me a cigarette.
And another drink.
A shot would do me good too.
Where's the nearest hottie I can self-destroy myself through sexuality with?
Oh you know this was coming.
Fuck.
Happiness is a warm gun.
Bang bang.
Someone give me a cigarette.
And another drink.
A shot would do me good too.
Where's the nearest hottie I can self-destroy myself through sexuality with?
Oh you know this was coming.
Fuck.
Happiness is a warm gun.
Bang bang.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Again with the music.
Some lyrics just echo your own truth back at you.
& You can relate more to that music than when anyone else says, "I understand. I know where you're coming from. I can relate to that."
& you just listen to those songs on repeat and let your own truth seep further into yourself and bury yourself into the isolation of what it is like to be that lyric. & how sometimes you just want to bombard the other person who is to blame for your relating to that song with the lyrics, hoping that they'll understand. That if only they could relate to you when you became that lyric, that every thing will be alright if they could understand that song, those lyrics, because those lyrics became you, you when you are thinking of them.
The killer part is that those lyrics that become you are your favorite songs. Played on repeat, and hold that special place in your music library. But no one else seems to get. Maybe some people closed to you know about them, but most people would think it's just another song.
It's not just another song. & the ones we can relate to, come up again and again, became versatile and applying to ourselves even when we are referring to someone else. The band's original intention lost on you because you made the lyrics reflect your own personal truth.
I said once that music is love. It is. But Music is Life itself.
Is this more than you bargained for yet? I've been dying to tell you anything that you want to hear, because that's just who I am this week... (For now, actually for once in a long time, I know exactly what, really who I want :/
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be her {my meaning by "her" is to be your next girl.)
I'm just a notch on your bedpost, and you're just a line in a song.
I'll be your number one with a bullet.
& by next week, I will be writing about someone else.
& You can relate more to that music than when anyone else says, "I understand. I know where you're coming from. I can relate to that."
& you just listen to those songs on repeat and let your own truth seep further into yourself and bury yourself into the isolation of what it is like to be that lyric. & how sometimes you just want to bombard the other person who is to blame for your relating to that song with the lyrics, hoping that they'll understand. That if only they could relate to you when you became that lyric, that every thing will be alright if they could understand that song, those lyrics, because those lyrics became you, you when you are thinking of them.
The killer part is that those lyrics that become you are your favorite songs. Played on repeat, and hold that special place in your music library. But no one else seems to get. Maybe some people closed to you know about them, but most people would think it's just another song.
It's not just another song. & the ones we can relate to, come up again and again, became versatile and applying to ourselves even when we are referring to someone else. The band's original intention lost on you because you made the lyrics reflect your own personal truth.
I said once that music is love. It is. But Music is Life itself.
Is this more than you bargained for yet? I've been dying to tell you anything that you want to hear, because that's just who I am this week... (For now, actually for once in a long time, I know exactly what, really who I want :/
Isn't it messed up how I'm just dying to be her {my meaning by "her" is to be your next girl.)
I'm just a notch on your bedpost, and you're just a line in a song.
I'll be your number one with a bullet.
& by next week, I will be writing about someone else.
Monday, April 26, 2010
& the heart strings are pulled.
I looked at my past blogs yesterday.
& skimming through them, I realized I don't remember half the guys who were calling me, texting me, giving proof to the fact that I burn through guys.
& I was looking and found that way back in December, even then I was talking to who I am "talking" to now and writing about him.
Truth was, I was smitten in high school and it wasn't for nothing. In high school, more than any other place that I have been in, I followed the philosophy of relating to an absent person more than building relationships to anyone around me.
It was I never spoke to Mikko. I was terrified first of any dejecting talk he might have aimed my way (just because I expected it. I expected the worse from everyone, to start mocking me any moment for never wearing the right clothes, for carrying a book, for never doing my makeup/hair, for anything that I criticized about myself) So instead, a typical fantasy trait of mine, I build up this fantasy of myself and relating to others. Mikko included. I extended this to any crush heavily.
I would picture that just one of the guys would be different. Just one would think that makeup wasn't required in order for a person to be truly beautiful. That they would see beyond my facade and discovered the brilliant bleeding heart that was me underneath. That I would be 'discovered,' by one of these guys who would take the time to get to know me for me and would like me for who I was and think I was just the coolest girl ever because I didn't give any drama. I wasn't/still aren't the type of girl to nitpick and wouldn't dare to judge. I wouldn't even ask them to take me on dates. I couldn't picture myself on dates. I would see this guy and me coming over to his house (HAHAHAHAHA <---right like that ever happened in high school or afterwards because my parent's are still like x_X when I go over to a guy's house) and we would just talk. we would sit somewhere or lean against the kitchen and talk about whatever was on our minds. For me, it just being together and having the bond between us like a secret that no one would know how strong it was.
Even back then I was sexually liberated because to me, virginity wasn't this huge of a deal. It was just something everyone did and it would be our secret that underneath the black was a beauty who was more than willing to get down on her knees. With every crush it was different. I don't remember my daydreams much but they were always like that. It was beautiful, this idea of a relationship I had.
& I'm confused. I'm happily confused. I'm trying to not be stubborn and step out of my comfort zone.
I'm scared.
I'm scared more about this than any time I go meet up with a complete stranger I never saw before and get into his car to be driven away into the city.
& I hate that what I'm scared of isn't that he's not right for me. But that we'll communicate much and after weeks, months, however long it is that he'll meet this super spectacular girl in person & immediately get with her and forget that I'm in his pocket (cell) & that I'm not her.
I'm scared I'll never be 'her', not just for this guy, but for any guy.
My optimism bubbles over everywhere but as soon as it comes to me and my relationships, I tend to expect being forgotten about.
O_O
Music is LOVE. Music is LIFE. Music helps me when no one else can. I just heard "If I fell," and the lyric just made me open my mind. I know what's wrong. Why I am overthinking, and wondering, and questioning, and shooting myself down at the same time.
"If I give my heart to you, I must be sure from the very start..."
& skimming through them, I realized I don't remember half the guys who were calling me, texting me, giving proof to the fact that I burn through guys.
& I was looking and found that way back in December, even then I was talking to who I am "talking" to now and writing about him.
Truth was, I was smitten in high school and it wasn't for nothing. In high school, more than any other place that I have been in, I followed the philosophy of relating to an absent person more than building relationships to anyone around me.
It was I never spoke to Mikko. I was terrified first of any dejecting talk he might have aimed my way (just because I expected it. I expected the worse from everyone, to start mocking me any moment for never wearing the right clothes, for carrying a book, for never doing my makeup/hair, for anything that I criticized about myself) So instead, a typical fantasy trait of mine, I build up this fantasy of myself and relating to others. Mikko included. I extended this to any crush heavily.
I would picture that just one of the guys would be different. Just one would think that makeup wasn't required in order for a person to be truly beautiful. That they would see beyond my facade and discovered the brilliant bleeding heart that was me underneath. That I would be 'discovered,' by one of these guys who would take the time to get to know me for me and would like me for who I was and think I was just the coolest girl ever because I didn't give any drama. I wasn't/still aren't the type of girl to nitpick and wouldn't dare to judge. I wouldn't even ask them to take me on dates. I couldn't picture myself on dates. I would see this guy and me coming over to his house (HAHAHAHAHA <---right like that ever happened in high school or afterwards because my parent's are still like x_X when I go over to a guy's house) and we would just talk. we would sit somewhere or lean against the kitchen and talk about whatever was on our minds. For me, it just being together and having the bond between us like a secret that no one would know how strong it was.
Even back then I was sexually liberated because to me, virginity wasn't this huge of a deal. It was just something everyone did and it would be our secret that underneath the black was a beauty who was more than willing to get down on her knees. With every crush it was different. I don't remember my daydreams much but they were always like that. It was beautiful, this idea of a relationship I had.
& I'm confused. I'm happily confused. I'm trying to not be stubborn and step out of my comfort zone.
I'm scared.
I'm scared more about this than any time I go meet up with a complete stranger I never saw before and get into his car to be driven away into the city.
& I hate that what I'm scared of isn't that he's not right for me. But that we'll communicate much and after weeks, months, however long it is that he'll meet this super spectacular girl in person & immediately get with her and forget that I'm in his pocket (cell) & that I'm not her.
I'm scared I'll never be 'her', not just for this guy, but for any guy.
My optimism bubbles over everywhere but as soon as it comes to me and my relationships, I tend to expect being forgotten about.
O_O
Music is LOVE. Music is LIFE. Music helps me when no one else can. I just heard "If I fell," and the lyric just made me open my mind. I know what's wrong. Why I am overthinking, and wondering, and questioning, and shooting myself down at the same time.
"If I give my heart to you, I must be sure from the very start..."
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.
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.
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