"Yeah Bitch!"

Being comfortable is comfortable, obviously. So, why relinquish the static habitual bliss ? Same is good, but more often than not I find that change is better. Therefore, to grow you have to move and stretch like the ever reaching branches of a tree. I have yet to see a tree have down turned branches.

You must move forward, mix it up, do it differently, or whatever it may be. In order to get a different outcome you must choose different actions. So, here I go into a slice of adulthood that holds my hopes of a future. It may be terrible or totally grand, it's an experience none the less, and that is priceless.

My point is don't be afraid of being uncomfortable.

The other day as I hung in a rock climbing harness that looked like a diaper climbing halfway up my ass while it squeezed my bloated stomach out of the cover of my shirt, I struggled to find the right route to take without falling backwards into the void of loserville. People at the rec center could see me from all angles, pretty or not. Despite all of these grand perks, it was extremely thrilling to be scared. To be vulnerable. To be at the hands of another person's ability to belay me.

I somehow climbed to the top of the rock wall and squeezed that ridiculous bike horn. Yes, I looked like a demented spider with its legs turned backwards, but I did it. I conquered the fear, or took a bite of it and spit it out like a badass. As Jesse Pinkman would say, "Yeah bitch!"

Make life your bitch, not the other way around. Ya dig?

why is it so hot in here?

Life is hard. Why am I back on here? I want to keep moving forward, but here I am sitting on my couch like a lifeless sack of nothing. Is nothing inherently lifeless? I don't know. I am having a mini panic attack in my mind. Another year of school? oh fuck. No tattoos from my tattooer beau? Oh fuck. No more drinking? Oh fuck. I am scared. Scared about the past and scared about the future. I just don't know what to do. Maybe I should've kept with biology and tried desperately to bribe someone to give me a PhD. The only thing that seems sensible right now is masturbating. Masturbating is a mindless activity that solves everything. Well, sort of.

Breathe Molly. I am beginning to get neurotic with nervousness. This post is merely a place to hold my words. I'd be lying if I didn't say that writing is my passion and has always been my saving grace. I hate how inactive in film I am right now. It breaks my heart. I kind of just want to go buy an expensive camera and start creating stupid shit. No fear filming. This is just one of those moments when the past creeps up on you, taps your shoulder and whispers, "Hey, I'm baccccckkkkk!" God damn.

I just want to erase and start over. You can start over, but your past will forever be there waiting to remind you that you've fucked up before and that you can do it again, fuck up, that is.

It suddenly got sweltering hot in this room.

Oh god, pre menopause.

I haven't even sold a script yet. Menopause, wait!

i'm back bitches... april fools

I took a break from blogging. I found myself censoring my thoughts and words just for this silly blog of mine. It has been good to be completely "real" with myself in my sketch journal. I'd like to say I am back in action, free as a bird, uncensored like Howard Stern, but that is not the case. I don't know when I will return to this blog.

So why even write this post?

I don't know. I guess I wanted to see my thoughts typed out and appearing on my screen again, imagining someone will read these prolific works called "posts."

Molly wants recognition...this is true.

Anywho. I am not coming back for a while. I still need to work on myself and go back to my roots where the love of writing and writing for self expression first arose. To anyone and everyone who reads this, I ask, "how much do you censor yourself?"

I do it way too much.

Chink.
faggot.
the jewish.
my niggaz.
I love giving head.
Blow me.
anal sex is good.
vibrators.
fat asses.
phat asses.
CUNT face.
bdsm.
my pussy tastes like diet coke.
I lie to please, it pleases me to lie.
rug muncher.
dykez for dayz.
titty twister.
dildo sucking fucktard.
retard.
balls on my face.
anorexic binge slut who eats cum for breakfast.
cutter.
druggie.
heroin.
alcoholic at 20.
spanking with your belt.
BIG cock.
NSFW.
life's beggars.
the colored peoples.
meat curtains.
two in the pink one in the stink.
butt buddies.
gay porn turns me on.
I fucked all your friends.
I fucked your roommate.
bisex sex.
pussy power.
they all smell as one race.
discrimination.
gay beaners.
blanco chica bonita.
puta.
floggers.
latex.
baby condoms.
bukkake.
pornhub low quality finger fucking.
tattoos.


Yup, now I feel better. Phew.

150%

This post serves two purposes.

1. To get me in a writing mood

2. To make a deal with myself


Recently I have started a new sleep regimen (with the exception of last night) where I am in bed by 12, asleep probably around 1am, and then awake by 9 or 10am. I have cut my caffeine from 4 drinks to 2 drinks. I don't drink caffeine after 6pm. Hypersomnia and insomniac are my new titles. Anywho, I would say that this is another baby step towards changing my life. Considering that I used to go to bed around 3 or 4 am and wake around 2 or 3 pm, but that's only if someone woke me up, otherwise I would keep sleeping. It's been a week and I feel better. It is easier to get up and I honestly feel like my body's gears are clicking back into the right places.

Also, I am planning on going to a creative writing club at CSUF on Monday night. I met a new guy friend. I am planning to go to an AA meeting with Miss Elin two wednesday's from now. AND I am planning to go on a run with the Snail's Pace running club in MV this Wednesday.

I am going to make it to all of these commitments.

Oh, and I deleted snapchat after one of my wonderful friends who received a nude photo from me made it into this cat picture. It was really funny until I knew he was showing my other friends. Then it made me feel weird. Oh the downfalls of snapchat. Such is life. No more nudes. Tons more condoms (don't ask).

So, what does this have to do with anything.

Well, for once I feel as if I am giving my life 150%. Why not 200% because 200% is an absurd number plus, "15", is one of my lucky numbers.

I feel so happy. Overjoyed. Just smiling all the time when I am around people. It feels good to move on, do new shit and put effort into your life.

I was giving at best 75%. I wonder if for one month I can give 150% every day.

I'll workout when I say I am going to.
I am going to go to an AA meeting.
I will meet new people through the running club and or creative writing club.
I will be a good parent to myself and keep getting into bed at 12.
I shall look at life with an open heart, being nice to everyone who deserves my kindness (there are the rare exceptions when shit is not cool and you gotta be a boss and straighten dat shiiiet out).

^wtf molly? ghetto as hell.

And lets say I fail at all of these...well gotta just get back on the horse (which after falling is honestly and literally incredibly hard to do especially when you feel like crying in the dirt arena).

You may see this as silly and stupid, but I feel unfulfilled. I wonder if you were to look at your own life what percentage you would give it. Are you living the life you want? Maybe or maybe not. The beautiful thing is that you can change all this.

And rest assured that I will have my moments of spit and fire and curse words. That happens every day. The thing you have to remember is to recover from your anger and keep going.

Me vs. ME

So, tonight I went to Lady Gaga's Born This Way Ball. Besides some problems with this drunk bitch sitting behind us (me & my mom) it was still an amazing night.

I have loved Gaga from the very beginning. I have always stuck up for who she is as an artist and person. Tonight she made all of that worth it because it was as if she gave something back to me, she made me hopeful of myself. If that makes sense. Throughout the show she talked to us audience. She shared stories and words of wisdom. I honestly cannot recount the exact words of what she said, but I'll sum it up.

Love yourself. You are not alone. Don't give a fuck about what people think. Believe in fyour dreams. Be free.

These words are simple and common. Everyone tells you to be happy, believe in yourself, do good in school blah blah blah. But, when this woman comes out and tells you this wisdom, it really makes your heart beat faster. You want to believe her. You do believe her. Gaga knows.

Anywho, so what does this all mean to me?

I've always been a square trying to fit into a round hole. Where my depression, alcoholism and addictions stem from is the obsession to be loved and fit in. It is always a constant battle. It has been since people started tell me I was weird and wrong and stupid and a loser. From that point on the obsession became a sickness.

And here I am today, somewhat more myself, a lot happier, still battling for some things.

But if I am being honest, I still feel compelled to be all these things society does not want me to be.

One of my friends said that I am trying to be different just for the sake of not being the same. This is the farthest thing from the truth. I have tried to stifle my differences and odd yearnings because I felt I had to. I like exciting and weird stuff because I am open to everything the world has to offer and I just want to be a part of that. I like going against the grain because that's just me. It's not my fault the world thinks what I consider normal to be weird/wrong. Let me be clear. This is me. This is me trying to live life as myself. This is not for the sake of being different.

So what are all these abnormal things I am afraid to indulge in? Here are the big ones...

I wouldn't be a waitress, I'd like to try stripping.

I would have cotton candy pink hair.

Lots more tattoos.

Feel happy about all the weird outfits I put together.

Openly be in the bdsm community (or at least try it out).

Model nude.

Be bi, date a girl, see what happens.

Write without the fear that I won't succeed.


Doing these things would be more true to who I believe to be than who/what I am doing now.

I mean maybe I would strip and be like "this is not for me." At least I would have tried it! I can't even experience shit without the fear of being a weirdo/creep/outcast/disappointment. It isn't fair.

But Lady Gaga gives me hope that one day that I'll have the strength to do all these things without fear and with tons of love for myself.