What the future holds...some prose

Before I start I'll say, "This is me processing my feelings. No, for now, I will not kill myself."

Each day I walk in
the doorman says, "Hello"
I smile and pretend
telling myself to be happy
act like you are happy,
even though you are not
engage with people
say, "Good morning"
and, again, don't forget to smile
when they look away you can stop
drop it all and go back to your sadness
but whenever someone looks your way
"play it again, Sam."
because you can't let them see it
sucking the life out of you
drowning you to the deep bottom of nothingness
how every day is torture
being there, where they don't want you
dreaming of somewhere else
a place where you can take the next step
but, instead you are here
and every bit of me says, "Be grateful."
good money, nice people, still in the industry
I am screaming, but I am silent
"Get me out of here."
These times, dying feels like heaven
my worries would be out the door
and the anxiety would cease
I'd be dead and silent
in peace
away from adulthood
away from responsibilities
all of you try to help me
but a part of me is willing to leave it all behind
just to get some quiet
because I don't want to be tormented
torn in different directions
pushed one way or another
when I am trying my best to move forward
yet no one will give me a chance
they see through me, my desperation
and I am not good enough
or something else that disqualifies me
so, I think, death would be the alternative
and my will to kill is so little that it won't happen
for now
but, maybe in a year
who knows the landscape of my mind
once again digging for happiness
and coming up with dirty hands
no rubies or jewels
nothing
then you say, "I want to be nothing."
this weight is too great
I can not handle another day
struggling to get by
pulling out my teeth
asking, "Do I look happy now?"
a fool amongst the foolhardy
yet no one kills themselves
it's just me
forever depressed
constantly a mess
no way to move forward
stuck where I am
anxiety ridden
a villain conquered at the end
goodbye to dreams
hello to peace
awaiting me on the other side of
what's good and what's not good enough 

The Benefits of Death

It's a funny thing to think about. The benefits of death. Huh?


People die. It's the circle of life. Your mom will die, your dad will die, your best friend will die even you will die. Whether it is someone close to you or maybe a celebrity you watch every week on TV, the death of someone you feel connected to can break your heart.


After hearing about the death of Cory Monteith, the "Glee" TV star who plays Finn Hudson, I immediately felt heavy with depression. Shock came over me. Why him? Why now? Thirty one years lived and yet gone within such a short time as I hear the news from a friend over breakfast.


I am an avid glee watcher, from the beginning pilot to this past season. It is hard to accept that he won't be a part of the show anymore. He will never walk on this earth anymore.


So, as I sank into a deep and dark place I began to think about my dear "Uncle Bob" who also recently passed away very unexpectedly. I asked the same questions. Why him? Why now? I was still unable to come up with justified answers. Naturally, I teared up, feeling as if the world didn't understand my pain. Everyone is so happy, yet I am still grieving.


After talking with my mom, shedding some tears for their lost souls, I was able to see the benefits of death.


I can look at all the people who have passed away and see their beautiful qualities they once bestowed on this world. I look to them on how to act, how to be. I can learn from them. Remember them whilst I trudge through this so called life. I will never forget my grandpa; Bob, Cory Monteith, and all the other deceased souls. I will cherish what they taught me. I will reap the benefits of their deaths, because once a life ends another one begins, and the ones we have lost forever will guide our hearts as best they can.


I grieve, but I can still see the footprints they left behind.

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!

Son Of a Bitch Everything's Real...-Gary Busey

I am resistant to write on here, mainly because I feel I have no place on the internet anymore except for the occasional tweet and my obnoxious facebook statuses. My blog seems like a part of the past, yet for some reason here I am revisiting it. I suppose the main thing I wanted to say is that I am welcoming back sobriety with open arms. I won't say I had a relapse into the big boiling pot of alcoholic concoctions that are sickly sweet, but I made a direct decision to start drinking again. It all started with that one amazing concert. The moment just seemed to fit. I have been drinking ever since. No horrid repercussions have resulted from my last stint of drinking, but that isn't to say it didn't make me feel different, because it did. I was using alcohol to numb feelings. I was using it to have fun. Looking back, after talking with a friend of mine, I see that the path of sobriety gave me a purpose, a motivating drive everyday. I felt healthy and like I was beating the biggest feat of my life everyday which is just dealing and experiencing reality. Alcohol is fun and quick. I don't deny these things, but I think today I will be sober.

As Gary Busey says... S.O.B.E.R. = Son Of a Bitch Everything's Real

So, cheers to today as a sober Molly.

are you getting WELLbutrin?

I feel like this post will either be extremely boring or somewhat educational.

I have depression. I take medication. I go to therapy. It has been like this since I was 15.

{go ahead and judge}

Anywho, I recently decided to cut ties with the guy who gives me drugs. Please note he is a licensed professional and not a thug (reading this 2nd time and is not that funny, I apologize). I made this decision because I was tired of him trying to add more drugs to my already full cocktail of wellbutrin,lexapro,lamictal.

It may sound like a lot to you. 3 pills?! They're milligrams. Relax.

So, long story short I say goodbye to old psychiatrist and say hello to a new one. He suggests that I up my wellbutrin which I was definitely okay with. I have a solid plateau of meds, I don't need to add more, lets just ya know rearrange them.

3 days of 300 mg of wellbutrin instead of 150.

HOLY FUCK.

It is as if I am a new woman. I am fucking happy and elated and excited and motivated. I couldn't help but smile the other day. I find more reasons to talk to people and I keep making weird sort of funny jokes. My attitude has changed. All I feel is happy.

Besides some side effects such as extremely dry mouth, I am also a bit more... twitchy, ocd, hyper, excited.

It's hard to explain, but imagine a cat who one day picks up a frisbee, throws it, wants to go on walks, jumps through hoops and just never stops. That's how drastic the change is. I am a crazy cat instead of a lazy cat.

PLUS, I am no longer lethargic. I woke up at 9 am this morning. 9 am! People who know me would be shocked. Typically I sleep till 1 or 2pm.

Why am I writing this? Because I feel like this is a sham. Are people always this happy? Is this what I've been missing out on?

And...
What is the price you pay for happiness. I am not talking dollar signs. It's more like, though I am happy, I am sort of/have become overtly hyper.

You may say this isn't a bad thing. It's a great thing. I feel the same way. But I am gaining happiness while also gaining shakes, twitches and sometimes racing heartbeat. It freaks me out a bit.

Wellbutrin in particular affects the dopamine neurotransmitter, therefore, this might indicate that I am/was dopamine deficient.

I am of course going to talk to my new doctor about all this, but I thought it would an interesting read for people with depression who take this and or other medications.

Just some thoughts. I have never been this happy before. It's odd.

read with sarcasm

Life right now is kind of overwhelmingly shitty.

Now on a positive note, I am completely desperate for kinky sex, actually just any sex.
Sorry, just being honest here.

It is really not attractive, being as desperate as I am, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

I mean I am not looking for a boyfriend. I am just looking for a lil dickation.

Yup, dickation {dick vacation}.

And about every guy in the OC sucks a fat cock or knows the last guy I slept with because they met in high school or some bull shit like that. So really I have no expectations, except maybe to get an orgasm.

I mean if I am not using drugs or alcohol I still need something to fill the void, right?

Read this with a sarcastic tone. Then again sarcasm holds truth.

Blah what a week and a half this has been.

If only I could have kinky amazing sex and figure out an amazing feature film idea.

Dancing like the weird mother fucker that I am last night definitely helped me forget about everything, still, this pussy needs a good time.

Alright.

pure nonsensical whims

My blog is so basic and boring. It annoys me. Except I remember when blogspot/blogger changed formats and so I converted my blog to the new format, but it looked fucking hideous so that is why I stuck with the basic boring blog I have now. Ugh.

I have a feeling this post will be pure nonsense.

So I had my first class today, the language of film. It seems semi interesting, but sometimes I wish I would've just stuck to being a bio major even though I was failing all my classes. Screenwriting is scary. I keep envisioning myself as the tortured writer working at Starbucks till my body becomes ash and eventually mixes with the coffee grounds. I wasn't good enough for Chapman, only Fullerton. I am no Lena Dunham or anyone else severely talented. I am just Molly, who likes to write.

I don't know. I feel pretty alone right now, but in the good healthy way(this is what I asked for by being single). It is quite alright being lonely, but a lil part of it sucks. Yet, I feel so free. Free from obligations to others. All I've got to worry about is myself. I need to write more.

My friend from Saddleback who is in my language of film class is actually a viking, kind of. He dresses in all this crazy garb that I love and I respect him so much for being who he wants to be. He loves metal, has long hair, plays with swords, makes his own mead, wears leather arm band thingys, has crafted fur on his tattered jean sleeveless jacket. He is so positively weird. I would do anything just to feel content with myself enough to not give a rat's ass about what people think of me.

The whole stripping thing has been on my mind a lot lately. I have been tossing and turning, biting my nails and losing sleep over the mere idea of stripping. I decided I am going to do it. I am going to find an amateur night and try it out. I am not going to commit to a job or anything, at least not at first. I haven't been able to find an amateur night in the OC but I am hoping some LA clubs will have a night during the week.

Honestly I felt so depressed because I kept thinking that I was the problem and that these yearnings of mine were sinful. As Macklemore & Ryan Lewis song Same Love says, "A world so hateful some would rather die than be who they are." That's exactly how I felt.

So I am going to do it rather than hate myself for just thinking about it.

Here is the link to amazing song, quoted from above.

http://youtu.be/hlVBg7_08n0

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.

Today is my day

Today is the day, possibly, since I can't remember if the christmas party was yesterday today or tomorrow.

I have been sober for a year. A year. 364 days. Can you imagine? It is like having an itch you can't scratch cause you know if you do your skin will just fall apart cell by cell. It's like handcuffing yourself to a chair, willingly, while snakes parade around your body waiting to bite you. It is this overwhelming feeling of want, of need, of desire. Lust for the bad even though in that moment it feels oh so good. It's is like wearing a blinking sign around your neck that says, "I am out of control. I cannot manage my life. I therefore have to bar myself of bars."

It is incredibly difficult to say "No" when all you want to do is say, "yes."

Do you know what it is like to admit to yourself that you're incapable of managing your disease, your problems, your own sanity?

I don't know. It is hard to accurately describe this weight that you carry around each day as friends and family encourage you to drink. They wave it in your face, never knowing the struggles you have faced. But, that is the way it is. No one is ever going to understand fully because it is a personal situation. This is why you have to be good to yourself and have the courage to say, "No," despite everything they will never understand.

The want to be sober arrived after going to a christmas party with this guy I liked. He is straightedge, and in my eyes, was so cool. My feelings for him at that point were irrevocable. Anywho, we went to this christmas party and I got drunk while of course he stayed sober. I tried to slurp down any drink I could, even if it wasn't mine. I remember taking a martini glass and asking him if it was mine, I drank it regardless of his answer. We went to his house and I was very drunk. I fell asleep in his arms immediately. I woke up not remembering much. How typical. I drove home feeling like such a fucking stupid drunk whore. He stayed sober and was completely himself while I tried to drown my insanity over what we were or weren't with boozes.

He made me want to change. He made me want to be myself. He made me want to be like him. Strong in his conviction.

And, since that party I have been sober. There was a moment where I slipped up and had drinks at a party with this pretentious screenwriter. Needless to say he didn't start talking to me until I had a few drinks in me. Jackass. At least he shelled out his credit card for it.

The reason why I say I have been sober for a year is because that night was just one night, and though I made this promise to myself based on a time frame, it became much more than a number of days. It evolved into this commitment to myself and to no one else. It wasn't about the days. It was about the strength I used during that next day to stay sober.

So here I am. Another day of sobriety under my belt. Has my life changed? Drastically.

No longer am I having sex without the ability to say no. No longer am I physically abusing my boyfriends. No longer am I waking up to vomit on my sheets. No longer am I throwing up on myself during muni rides or having friends carry me home because I am too wasted to walk. No longer am I ruining friendships with my best friends just because I am a drunk idiot who says hurtful things. No longer am I cutting myself, mixing drugs, having severe lows. No longer am I pretending to be happy when I am clearly not.

Sobriety has brought me a brighter world. Not an easy world. But, certainly a world I can bear to live in.

My hope is to continue living soberly for as long as I can, but I find that even harder to imagine as my promise to myself is over and the want to fit in is still extremely overwhelming. I plan on going to AA meetings again and hopefully meeting more sober people. I don't know what will happen tomorrow, but at least today I am sober.

Believe in me. This road is tough. One day at a time.

Where am I?

Thing have been really good, pretty weird, kind of low at times and really stressful. It hasn't been good, it hasn't been bad. And at this moment I feel empty, like some switch has turned me off, darkened to the point where everything inside and out is this black hole. I can't see where I am going and I can't see what's coming for me.

I don't want to be this way. I don't want to have to try a new pill cocktail.

I feel so confused about my feelings for people.

It's fine, it really is. I just feel kind of lost in my own head.

I am going to make a list of things I need to do in order to change things around, unfortunately all these things I will be doing probably won't have any effect on deciding where to put my feelings.

breathe molly.

i will for you my love

I am human. I am so flawed. I am difficult.

but I pour so much love into the people in my life that it is easy to get disappointed.

This isn't insanity on my part, it is a series of disheartening events from you.

It is people leaving. People finding someone else. People giving up.

And how am I supposed to stretch out my neck for you anymore? How am I supposed to talk highly of your progress in life when all you do is cut me down?

I don't need to cut myself,

you make me bleed.

sigh

I am so tired of crying.

Crying cause I am sad. Crying cause I am happy. Wild Rivers on my eyes.

I don't have a lot to say or much direction after everything that has gone down this weekend.

I feel like I am waiting or just stagnant, but not stagnant in a bad way. If we keep arguing and trying to fix things and break things and then fix them all over again does that mean something? Is that better than throwing in the towel? I honestly thought it would be easy or better to walk away. And 24 hours later I felt like wolverine's claw had ripped through my insides. It was bleeding and I couldn't stop it. Leaking, soaking, tainting the rest like a toxic substance that killed by the touch. I couldn't deal. And then I tried to go back, and then KABOOM.

I feel wrong for trying to set the fire, but when you said it, it was as if you wanted me to be with someone else, to already have other relations going on with people. So I went for it. I regret. It was stupid, I was stupid. One of those girlish moments where you feel so self righteous that someone deserves pain on your behalf.

I will say, no matter how fucked this is, it was nice to hear you mad. I was waiting for you to fight, to say you didn't want me with anyone else no matter how selfish that is. The anger in your voice excited me, made me laugh, made me cringe, made me want to try and fight you. It is one of those sadistic things. Also, my love of drama. Though, I will say that it frightened me and I never want to see you that mad in person.

But in the end we talked. There was no conclusion, but I am glad we talked. I believe you will always be there. I don't think you know but that's a trait I've always thought I possessed. My friends could call me, friends I don't talk to and I would help them and listen. I guess I keep hoping that someone will do the same for me.

It's hard to have these solid people in your life walk away and change. I can't even remember how many times this has happened whether it be with friends or just guys. It's hard to shake that feeling that no one will stay.

I'll try and relax and not expect anything. It's the least I can do.

today is a day for tears.

I was upset today. The morning started off great as I drove my neighbor to her 5th grade writing summer class and then it snowballed to a shit show from there. I became angry, frustrated and fed up.

It was one of those moments where you just want to cut the strings to all the "bad" things in your life. I kept telling myself I was done trying and that anything was really nothing and that everything was in no way salvageable.

I cried a lot today. I cried driving to therapy. I cried in therapy. I cried driving home from therapy. I cried while watching Intervention. I cried a few minutes ago.

My head hurts from holding back as many tears as I could.

I don't like to seem as if I am affected by the going-ons in my life. I like to seem strong and impervious to pain.

And as I opened old wounds today I realized I was hardening my heart to everything just so that I wouldn't feel pain or disappointment.

I ended up opening my heart in therapy, feeling the sting of built up hatred and anger. I let myself feel it. That's why I cried, the tears were my pain being released. My sobs were my voice becoming clearer and forgiving.

I'm not fixed and I am a work in progress, and today I took a baby step by relinquishing myself to the painful truth of reality.

I said goodbye to my best friend. I wished her well and told her I loved her.

And, maybe it is not goodbye, maybe our paths will reconvene at some point. It's all I can wish for. She has to take her own journey as I must take mine, but love never dies and neither do the memories I have had with her.

It's funny you know, these days when I feel broken and dilapidated I get reassurance that I am loved and that there is hope.

I received a letter from my friend Jared who is currently incarcerated and he told me a very inspiring story that made me tear up because it was so beautiful. I'll ask him if I can share it, in fact it might be on the internet.

Anywho, I wanted to say that everything isn't fixable
some things end because it's fate
if you really love someone the love never dies
the little things hurt but aren't the end of the world
and there is always a silver lining.

Also, don't be afraid to cry.

M.

I've breached this subject before, but I am doing it again because this blog is for me, to express my thoughts to you, to help me deal.

I never thought I'd be looking back asking myself how I lost my best friend. Yes, things have changed, we both have changed, grown and receded. I remember thinking in high school that this girl was my best friend, my confidant, my shoulder to cry on, my friend who I could sing Disney songs with at the top of my lungs. I thought even with life's curveballs we would always be friends, forever.

Now, I look at her pictures on facebook and hear things about her through mutual friends and I say to myself, "I don't know this person." It's a hard thing to believe you know a person only to find out they are or have chosen to be nothing like what they were. Some people improve for the best, but I honestly don't know if I can say that about her. Then again maybe it's not my place to judge her good or bad, maybe growth doesn't have a dual conscience. Maybe I am wrong and I am the one who failed. I don't know.

I'd like to think she's happy. In her pictures she looks happy, but looks can be deceiving. I just don't understand how one person can be a certain way all their life and then suddenly, with a flip of a switch, be the complete opposite. Are they pretending now or have they been pretending up until this point? Maybe we are just too different to get along now.

I don't have the answers, but it makes me sad to live my life without her.

The simple solution would be to become friends again after our falling out, but I don't want to be friends with the new her, I want my old best friend back.

21st century love

I've heard so many things about love and relationships. I could write a book with all that I've ever been told, but the book on what I actually know about love and relationships would be a very small picture book with phrases starting out with, "I think..."

The love I've experienced is not like the movies I watch, not like the novels I read and not even close to how everyone tells me it is supposed to be.

I just don't know what to do.

I sometimes think it would be better if I could go back to a time when love was simpler. When you married cause you had to and not cause you wanted to. When marriages were arranged. When there was no texting or tumblr or facebook as the main means to communicate with your love.

I want to go back to when people wrote letters, and came to your door with flowers before the date, and who met your parents the very first night they took you out.

May be I am just silly and getting worried about nothing, but I think pure love between two people is a dying art.

No one can say "I love you," without sending it in a text first.

No one can have a stable relationship till they declare it on facebook.

No one feels loved unless their pictures on instagram and their statuses are all filled with their lover's name and face.

I don't know what love looks like between me and another individual, but I do want it to be so much more than what I see, what I hear and the little that I know.

where's my sign? Thank GOD nothing showed up.

"But your soul you must keep, totally free"


If you're burdened by your thoughts.
Waiting for a sign to save you.
Your blood churns in disgust.
If only the world would work out in your favor.
Life is just too hard for the sober minded.
Wasting a life each time the sun rises
Wishing you were dead so you could waste away all time.
Then you'll wake and realize you've been drowning in a disguise.
No one is going to show you any of this.
You must earn it all yourself.
Stop your complaints, don't be happy, I don't care.
Just finish it.
Be armored.
No one can hurt you.
Drink life as if you were forever thirsty.

"Hope? I heard that girl is a bitch."

Do you ever have so much hope that it turns out to be a bad thing?

Well I do. I have too much hope in things that hold no promise whether it be lifestyle choices, men, my job, etc. When am I going to start living my life and leave all these things behind?

I invest so much of my hope in the past because I think it holds my future.

The truth is that all that matters is the present. This moment. Now.

My catharsis starts now.

But, one last question. Am I still holding on because of hope or because there's still something worthwhile in these things?

I don't know. Maybe yes, maybe no.
I am honestly probably the worst person to judge a situation like that.

I guess I can't wait forever for things to change.

Time to move on.
Goodbye Hope.

keep breathing, get help, stay strong

I see many people post on tumblr about wanting to commit suicide. I was there, the same place as they are now, but a while ago. I still get severely depressed, but not suicidal. I understand their pain, but yet I also don't understand their need for death.

I used to understand, but I don't anymore which I suppose is a good thing.

I only wish I could stretch their eyes open, similar to how Alex's eyes are "kept" open in A Clockwork Orange, and show them how beautiful the world is. I know the world is also evil and tragic, but it is also so magnificent and worthwhile.

Duality all over again.

Anywho, for those struggling, just keep breathing, get help, stay strong.

theo lacy

So warped tour didn't work out for multiple reasons, I could explain, but I just don't wanna. I still got to see Taking Back Sunday so life ain't so bad.

Anywho.

I've been meaning to write this post since Saturday, but I have literally done everything instead of writing it, even though I really don't "have" to write it.

On Saturday I saw my friend Jared in Theo Lacy Jail. It was a very difficult experience to say the least. Once I saw him it was as if the glass between us didn't exist, it was as if we were there, at a family party, talking, laughing, smiling. In reality I was talking through a phone to him, separated by glass, in a jail with other delinquents. I love Jared with all my heart. I have known him for most of my life. I grew up with him. I've watched him fall and break. But I love him. Jared and me have always had a connection. It is like something inside me wiggles and writhes when we are together. It is like my body comes together into one piece. It has always been that way.

Unfortunately Jared has problems, problems that stem from a place I don't know. He honestly has been fucking up his life for a while now and as much I'd like to say this is rock bottom for him, I don't know if it is. I have feelings, like a 6th sense, telling me what is to come (I know...) and I feel darkness, I feel like he won't make it this time. I feel like this will be the last time. I know that is beyond fucked to say, and I seriously hope to God that he flips his life around when he gets out in a few months. I hope I am completely wrong because I do believe he can get better, I just don't know if he believes it.

He's doing really well for the situation he is in at the moment, and honestly I think jail has been a good thing for him, but the real world is so different from his now controlled atmosphere.

I went to the jail with my dad cause he wanted to say a quick hi to Jared (sounds so casual right?). When I got there it was filled with all sorts of visitors. The worst thing was how many kids were there. It was horrible to think about being a child who has to go see their dad or their uncle in that place. It made me want to cry. During the whole process of waiting in line, going through the metal detector, waiting for our name to be called, being assigned a number, then waiting at the number for Jared, I was in full fledge internal panic mode.

While I waited for him to come to window 27 I thought I might throw up. My anxiety was killings me. Though, I wanted to throw up I was also smiling from ear to ear. Let me tell you, no one else was smiling there. My nerves had transpired into giggles and grins. And the craziest thing about the room where inmates talk to visitors is that most of it was just glass, so you honestly couldn't tell who was the sinner and who was the saint, who was under lock and key and who was free. In a way I felt like if I hadn't gotten help, the tables could've been turned and he would be the one visiting me. But, when he came to the window I stopped, my world relaxed and I took a breath. I was expecting him to look like Charles Manson, but he really looked damn good. I kept telling him how much I loved his hair hahaha. He looked mature, jaded, different ,yet the same.( as an aside, in screenwriting a golden rule is to SHOW and not TELL. And here I saw all these new traits about him and I really would not know how to show maturity or being jaded to you. Some things cannot be told or explained, they have to be seen or felt.) We talked about everything and nothing and to see him smiling and laughing made me realize that I am the same as all these people here, visiting someone they love. But before we could finish talking the phone cut out, but that's the jail's way of telling you that your time is up.

I walked away with my head held high. I didn't look back till the end and I could've sworn he just finished looking back at me. I also received a letter from him today saying how special the visit was to him.

Overall, the place, the experience, everything about it was frightening. That will never change. I hope that Jared will change, I want him to live and thrive. I love him. And, I know I throw the word, "love", around a lot, but I'd rather say it too much than not at all. Honestly, he will be my friend forever, no matter what happens.

life is suffering

Life is suffering. That is a fundamental truth of Buddhism.

I have taken two religions classes and in general religion is very interesting to me. Rest assured that I will not be talking about religion in this post, but you never know it may be a post in the near future :)

Life is suffering, so when things inevitably increase your suffering do you do them or not do them? The obvious answer is no, do not increase your suffering for goodness sake ! For instance in this economy today jobs are hard to come by, therefore, you want to be the best possible candidate for when they do arise, but if you have any visible tattoos like me then you are usually automatically inhibited. That's just the truth. People judge me because of my tattoos, people will not hire me because of my tattoos and that causes suffering especially when I might be just as qualified as the next average joe who's applying.

Life is full of these situations where you have to choose what is best. Life is based on nothing else but choices. The choices we make make us who we are.

The tattoo on my wrist is for the foundation To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA). I got it when I first turned 18. Besides the fact that I have always been fascinated with tattoos my wrist tattoo was one that I had thought about for a long while. My tattoo, "Love," on my wrist means the world to me. It reminds me everyday of the love I have in my heart, my past, my scars, the love I have for myself and so much more. I chose to inhibit myself, but at least I took the time to think about it and to weigh the pros and cons. All life is suffering, there is no way getting around it. And yes there are moments of happiness, but of course that is not all the time. Disregard everything else that plays into your happiness because I don't have enough time to go over it in this post nor any post.

My point is weigh the pros and cons and if it is worth it to you, allow yourself to suffer a bit more. But, do not take the stance that since life is suffering then you should do whatever you want and say fuck it cause living life impetuously is a life wasted.