Why do I keep waiting. For my life to change, for my maturity and morality to grow. Why do I keep waiting for someone else to make it happen for me. Why do I keep waiting to take control. It's infuriating. And what's even more frustrating is that I can make it stop, make it go, make it be the best set of experiences of my life, just by pressing the button in my brain. But I'm too lazy, or too afraid of rejection or failure.
I've always been told, no one can do it for you. You live your life alone. It's a hurtful truth that one must learn, that EVERYone must learn, if they want to survive the harsh winter of their life. You've gotta do it yourself, and hope for the best by your own skill and coping. It's not the way it should be, but its the way it is.
Nature is a series of organized, systematic chaos. Humans try to eliminate that chaos. The reason political, economic, and legality system almost always fail to work (or at least have many pitfalls along the way), is because people are always trying to put it into a symmetrical pattern. People like symmetry. I've noticed that.
Maybe I should be noticing other things. Maybe not.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Hurt Junkie
Why do we continually put ourselves through torture only to catch a glimpse of what we can't have. I dunno, maybe it's just me. Yeah, yeah the grass is greener on the WHATEVER. It still doesn't change the fact. Fact. Stagnant. Constant. Unchanging. Shit.
"She says December, will help me remember."
WHYYYY why does life have to suck. Was the big wheel of fortune broken? Or just unlucky? Did it by chance land on SUCK instead of AWESOME and that was it? Maybe we have to change it ourselves. Whatever that means.
It's slipping through my fingers, like glitter in those of a toddler, no knowledge of the disappointment that will surely ensue. It's not fair, goddammit.
The melody hits me like a wall of sound, smashing into my brain into shards of hurt at the repeated realization that I can't have it. Over and over and over again like a mother yelling at her child. No, suffer.
Strangely enough, it's my drug. I know it's the closest I'll come to a taste - no, just the memory of happiness. I'm a hurt junkie. Crap.
And now I may never see her again.
"She says December, will help me remember."
WHYYYY why does life have to suck. Was the big wheel of fortune broken? Or just unlucky? Did it by chance land on SUCK instead of AWESOME and that was it? Maybe we have to change it ourselves. Whatever that means.
It's slipping through my fingers, like glitter in those of a toddler, no knowledge of the disappointment that will surely ensue. It's not fair, goddammit.
The melody hits me like a wall of sound, smashing into my brain into shards of hurt at the repeated realization that I can't have it. Over and over and over again like a mother yelling at her child. No, suffer.
Strangely enough, it's my drug. I know it's the closest I'll come to a taste - no, just the memory of happiness. I'm a hurt junkie. Crap.
And now I may never see her again.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Blocks
Closing time. Makes your heart ache don't it. You know what I dislike? When people make the argument that end should be happy.
No. They shouldn't.
Pretending to be la dee dah while your heart breaks (and may I remind you that is does NOT break even)is a lie to both ourselves and whoever, or whatever, we are saying goodbye to. LET'S BE REAL, PEOPLE. You're hurtin'. To feign happiness and joy is dishonesty. Love your feelings, learn to bring them into the light, where you can be proud of them. Bottling up your emotions that have to, long to come out, is dangerous and unhealthy, as we have all learned in 8th grade P.E. Don't deny it. You'll explode.
Anyway... I use that word way too much. Anyway, I was thinking about closing time as freshman year comes to an end. Dude. Changes. A lot of them. Like, I can't even begin to describe this shiz. It's just been a boatload of self-discovery, and discovery of other people too. It's all been good though. Someone once told me that no experience is ever wasted. Everything can be learned from. That's how i view this year.
No regrets, of course. Sometimes I just wish people would stay with me. Change is bad, I've decided but only when you're wishing it'll never come.
Before the year started, I cried. I actually bawled my eyes out for the end. The end of childhood, of grinning, of running around the playground, of pointing fingers and unwrapping white plastic lunch straws, of playing with blocks and having them knocked down. It's inevitable. Get used to it or get out of the way. Survival of the fittest, life's unfair, the whole nine yards. You learn, you adapt, or you perish.
You despise it, or you tolerate it and get along. This is life. This is us.
Pick up your blocks.
No. They shouldn't.
Pretending to be la dee dah while your heart breaks (and may I remind you that is does NOT break even)is a lie to both ourselves and whoever, or whatever, we are saying goodbye to. LET'S BE REAL, PEOPLE. You're hurtin'. To feign happiness and joy is dishonesty. Love your feelings, learn to bring them into the light, where you can be proud of them. Bottling up your emotions that have to, long to come out, is dangerous and unhealthy, as we have all learned in 8th grade P.E. Don't deny it. You'll explode.
Anyway... I use that word way too much. Anyway, I was thinking about closing time as freshman year comes to an end. Dude. Changes. A lot of them. Like, I can't even begin to describe this shiz. It's just been a boatload of self-discovery, and discovery of other people too. It's all been good though. Someone once told me that no experience is ever wasted. Everything can be learned from. That's how i view this year.
No regrets, of course. Sometimes I just wish people would stay with me. Change is bad, I've decided but only when you're wishing it'll never come.
Before the year started, I cried. I actually bawled my eyes out for the end. The end of childhood, of grinning, of running around the playground, of pointing fingers and unwrapping white plastic lunch straws, of playing with blocks and having them knocked down. It's inevitable. Get used to it or get out of the way. Survival of the fittest, life's unfair, the whole nine yards. You learn, you adapt, or you perish.
You despise it, or you tolerate it and get along. This is life. This is us.
Pick up your blocks.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Summatime & Dave
Ahhhhhh. Summer. Summa. Summatime (and the livin's easy?) I'm supposed to be doing math homework right now... but screw it, you know? It's summer time. And yes... the livin' is easy. Well, sort of.
Guess what. I found a high. Literally. You know that cute saying... "I remember when getting high was just on swing sets"? It's true. When I was little, I had an old, wooden swing suspended by two frayed white roped between two trees in my back yard. In my opinion, every kid should have this. Anyway, a couple years ago the old ropes finally gave out, unable to bend to my animated plea to complete and utter happiness. It had to come down.
HOWEVER
My daddy has just put it back up, after about 2 or 3 years. I never knew how much I missed it. Or how much it missed me. My legs contoured perfectly to its welcoming wooden bench. And when I'm rocking back and forth in it (and going really high too) I feel...free. Cliche, right? I know... but there really isn't any other way to describe it.
I feel such a rush as I fly forward. It feels dangerous and safe all at the same time. The wind flies over my face, through my hair, encircling me in its warm embrace. Blood flowing my legs as I pump them back and forth, back and forth. It's as close to high as I've ever come.
Another thing on my mind... I recently watched a Youtube video concerning Dave Matthews Band. The guy in the video was basically saying that Dave Matthews and all of the people who like his music are "fuckin' faggots". Yes, he really said that. Look it up. Now, besides being completely rude and uncalled for, in addition to extremely offensive... dude no.
He went on to say that "Nobody is born liking Dave Matthews...it's not a natural thing". First of all, fuck you, for your ignorant closed-mindedness. Second of all, I'm not gonna sink to your level and just say "oh... you suck man YOU'RE a fag." I've considered your point and yes. I do think that people "like" something just because their friends do. To fit in with the group. But is this such a bad thing?
I admit. I "like" Dave Matthews Band to fit in with the group. Hold, don't jump to conclusions. You mentioned before in your video that people use coping strategies. You used the example of hiding behind jokes to bring sensitive or dark subjects into the light so one is able to freely discuss them. For me, Dave is a coping strategy, and it works. So no. I don't think Dave's chord structures or lyrics are deep. BUT, they are a coping strategy that I use to find common ground with people I wouldn't otherwise talk to and get to know (who, by the way, are worth pretending to like something to gain access to).
Because I didn't know if you knew or not... but it's difficult gaining access to someone's personality and someone's friendship if you don't have that "key" - that one common thing that makes it less awkward. Dave is my key. Dave is my coping strategy. So the question is this: Is it better to have friends and have that unimportant, not so significant thing that you feign liking (which is WORTH it) or to not have friends and be completely honest with yourself. In my opinion, in this day and age, if you want to be successful in your life, it's better to overlook that coping strategy and focus on the relationships you've created. Also it got me thinking as to if it was possible to learn to like something if you've forced yourself to listen to it for the benefit of those relationships... because I'm pretty sure that's happening to me. He's pretty deep.
Guess what. I found a high. Literally. You know that cute saying... "I remember when getting high was just on swing sets"? It's true. When I was little, I had an old, wooden swing suspended by two frayed white roped between two trees in my back yard. In my opinion, every kid should have this. Anyway, a couple years ago the old ropes finally gave out, unable to bend to my animated plea to complete and utter happiness. It had to come down.
HOWEVER
My daddy has just put it back up, after about 2 or 3 years. I never knew how much I missed it. Or how much it missed me. My legs contoured perfectly to its welcoming wooden bench. And when I'm rocking back and forth in it (and going really high too) I feel...free. Cliche, right? I know... but there really isn't any other way to describe it.
I feel such a rush as I fly forward. It feels dangerous and safe all at the same time. The wind flies over my face, through my hair, encircling me in its warm embrace. Blood flowing my legs as I pump them back and forth, back and forth. It's as close to high as I've ever come.
Another thing on my mind... I recently watched a Youtube video concerning Dave Matthews Band. The guy in the video was basically saying that Dave Matthews and all of the people who like his music are "fuckin' faggots". Yes, he really said that. Look it up. Now, besides being completely rude and uncalled for, in addition to extremely offensive... dude no.
He went on to say that "Nobody is born liking Dave Matthews...it's not a natural thing". First of all, fuck you, for your ignorant closed-mindedness. Second of all, I'm not gonna sink to your level and just say "oh... you suck man YOU'RE a fag." I've considered your point and yes. I do think that people "like" something just because their friends do. To fit in with the group. But is this such a bad thing?
I admit. I "like" Dave Matthews Band to fit in with the group. Hold, don't jump to conclusions. You mentioned before in your video that people use coping strategies. You used the example of hiding behind jokes to bring sensitive or dark subjects into the light so one is able to freely discuss them. For me, Dave is a coping strategy, and it works. So no. I don't think Dave's chord structures or lyrics are deep. BUT, they are a coping strategy that I use to find common ground with people I wouldn't otherwise talk to and get to know (who, by the way, are worth pretending to like something to gain access to).
Because I didn't know if you knew or not... but it's difficult gaining access to someone's personality and someone's friendship if you don't have that "key" - that one common thing that makes it less awkward. Dave is my key. Dave is my coping strategy. So the question is this: Is it better to have friends and have that unimportant, not so significant thing that you feign liking (which is WORTH it) or to not have friends and be completely honest with yourself. In my opinion, in this day and age, if you want to be successful in your life, it's better to overlook that coping strategy and focus on the relationships you've created. Also it got me thinking as to if it was possible to learn to like something if you've forced yourself to listen to it for the benefit of those relationships... because I'm pretty sure that's happening to me. He's pretty deep.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Pure.
This warfare of me and myself has been going on for decades. I am just now becoming aware of its affect on me. Me and my soul. What is a soul? A slide show of memories and experiences all circuiting at once, like a string of multicolored horses circling around a track? No. That metaphor uses the approval others and their desire to bend you to their own agendas.
Is it really up to a human being to end another's life to end? I don't think we should be the ones to decide when that should be. It destroys the clock.
These feelings, welling up inside me. They're becoming my secret place. The place I go when I don't want to think about anything logical, practical, real. It haunts me, when these emotions seem like my weakness. Like a kid stealing candy. It tastes so good, but the aftertaste smolders with guilt.
They feed me, keep me sane. Either that or keep me company in my own insanity. Which is better?
There is a filing cabinet in my mind. The kind of filing cabinet that you see in old offices and schools, where people shouldn't care, but they do. I try to file these secrets, to find a place where I can organize them and shape them into the opposite of chaos... but it's impossible. That's like trying to mold clay into a priceless gem. It doesn't have it in it.
Normal isn't in the glossary of these secrets. It's a quiet chaos. A low rumble of continuous, pulsing thunder. Like the sound of all the violins playing before the curtain opens. "I just want to be pure."
All I want. Is to be pure.
Is it really up to a human being to end another's life to end? I don't think we should be the ones to decide when that should be. It destroys the clock.
These feelings, welling up inside me. They're becoming my secret place. The place I go when I don't want to think about anything logical, practical, real. It haunts me, when these emotions seem like my weakness. Like a kid stealing candy. It tastes so good, but the aftertaste smolders with guilt.
They feed me, keep me sane. Either that or keep me company in my own insanity. Which is better?
There is a filing cabinet in my mind. The kind of filing cabinet that you see in old offices and schools, where people shouldn't care, but they do. I try to file these secrets, to find a place where I can organize them and shape them into the opposite of chaos... but it's impossible. That's like trying to mold clay into a priceless gem. It doesn't have it in it.
Normal isn't in the glossary of these secrets. It's a quiet chaos. A low rumble of continuous, pulsing thunder. Like the sound of all the violins playing before the curtain opens. "I just want to be pure."
All I want. Is to be pure.
Friday, May 21, 2010
Yeah, yeah. I know. It's been awhile. Get over it.It's not like there's really anyone listening anyway.
You know, it's funny when something that you see happening, that has nothing to do with you, can voice your opinion as strongly as if it did. Tonight, it's Friday night. I am a 15 year old girl, with friends. I should be going out, shouldn't I? Instead I'm sitting on my bed watching Glee on Hulu. How pathetic does that sound. A commercial came on advertising the popular contest reality show So You Think You Can Dance. At the top of the screen, there was a question with two options: Yes or No. The question was this: Is this relevant to you? Something clicked in my brain. I couldn't click an option. I genuinely and legitimately couldn't decide. And I've been dancing for 4 years.
The thing that crossed my indecisive mind was simple. It crosses every one's mind at one point. But because I have no way of knowing what anyone else is thinking unless they want me to, I have no idea if how much I am brooding over this is "normal". What is my purpose. You know, my place in life. The age old inquiry, Why the fuck am I here? Then another question popped into my head: What am I good at? I know this sounds like an episode of Barney concerning the self-confidence of an 8 year old, but bear with me. I can't help it.
I examine my classmates. Almost all of them mean something to the people around them. Sports, I see mostly. They have a team who relies on them. Earlier in the school year I tried out for the freshman basketball team, but I didn't make it because I had overestimated by skills in the sport. Is that what I'm doing with the rest of my minuscule, meaningless life? No one relies on me.
I'm being pretentious about what's going to happen to me and for me. My 4 years of dance have taught me that it's not going anywhere. I'm not good enough. There's nothing to fill the gap. These students have sports, music, theater, academic excellence to give them a ride to the top. I have none of these. Everything I've started that would hand me the same opportunities are gone now. I gave up violin in second grade, the saxophone in seventh grade, basketball in eighth grade. Oh. And as of now I have a D in geometry. A FUCKING D.
I'm just feeling so much pressure from everyone, from everything to get my act together before it's too late. Before I end up working at Wendy's. Right now I feel I have nothing going for me, even my social life is ruins, spent sitting on my bed watching other people have fun. I just don't know how to start. What's relevant to me?
You know, it's funny when something that you see happening, that has nothing to do with you, can voice your opinion as strongly as if it did. Tonight, it's Friday night. I am a 15 year old girl, with friends. I should be going out, shouldn't I? Instead I'm sitting on my bed watching Glee on Hulu. How pathetic does that sound. A commercial came on advertising the popular contest reality show So You Think You Can Dance. At the top of the screen, there was a question with two options: Yes or No. The question was this: Is this relevant to you? Something clicked in my brain. I couldn't click an option. I genuinely and legitimately couldn't decide. And I've been dancing for 4 years.
The thing that crossed my indecisive mind was simple. It crosses every one's mind at one point. But because I have no way of knowing what anyone else is thinking unless they want me to, I have no idea if how much I am brooding over this is "normal". What is my purpose. You know, my place in life. The age old inquiry, Why the fuck am I here? Then another question popped into my head: What am I good at? I know this sounds like an episode of Barney concerning the self-confidence of an 8 year old, but bear with me. I can't help it.
I examine my classmates. Almost all of them mean something to the people around them. Sports, I see mostly. They have a team who relies on them. Earlier in the school year I tried out for the freshman basketball team, but I didn't make it because I had overestimated by skills in the sport. Is that what I'm doing with the rest of my minuscule, meaningless life? No one relies on me.
I'm being pretentious about what's going to happen to me and for me. My 4 years of dance have taught me that it's not going anywhere. I'm not good enough. There's nothing to fill the gap. These students have sports, music, theater, academic excellence to give them a ride to the top. I have none of these. Everything I've started that would hand me the same opportunities are gone now. I gave up violin in second grade, the saxophone in seventh grade, basketball in eighth grade. Oh. And as of now I have a D in geometry. A FUCKING D.
I'm just feeling so much pressure from everyone, from everything to get my act together before it's too late. Before I end up working at Wendy's. Right now I feel I have nothing going for me, even my social life is ruins, spent sitting on my bed watching other people have fun. I just don't know how to start. What's relevant to me?
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