Heroine

Sometimes I think it would be fun to still be the villain, and also the victim of my own clandestine self destruction. How can someone play both parts at once? I don't know how I did it for so long. I would viciously tear myself down and build myself back up with a foundation as shaky as my confidence and much smaller than my self loathing habits. I never understood the self depreciating Isabella Swan or Anastasia Steele (who are basically the same character). Always thinking they are less than what they're supposed to be or could be. I hated seeing a woman yank herself out of the game because of some convoluted notion of not being good enough. I despised it because I was the same way. All I had done and everything I believed I was brought me pain and a faulty perception of what I one day could or could not be. I'd say,"why would you let him do that" or, "you're so fucking dumb, you can't even keep up" or, "I am weird. I am wrong." Some variation of self hatred.


I let my villainous self massacre me. I was the victim to my own crime. How twisted and bizarre of a time it was when death seemed like an answer because reality was my hell.


Now, here I am 6 years later and a heroine to my own story, my own life. As a heroine and warrior I know the battle is never over, things will come and go, heartbreak and tragedy will ensue, but also that the light I keep in my heart will somehow prevail. Instead of hiding and shrieking for a bottle of beer to solve life's calamities I am now tensing up and waiting for the hit, packed with armor and a sword all welded with my bare hands. Life may annihilate all I have but I'm still the heroine, holding myself up, looking towards tomorrow instead of the past. Life is a bitch, but it is far more pleasant when you are the heroine of your own story, instead of prey to your own folly. Don't believe what they tell you about not reaching these invisible standards. You are your own worst enemy and your best supporter. Do yourself a favor and give up on being helpless. Simply be your own heroine.

50 Bucks of Kindness

They say money can't buy happiness, and I would say that is mostly true. But 50 bucks can prove that humanity and unbridled kindness still exists. I was working a shift. I'm a waitress you know. Every god damn shift I have someone who is complaining about something or pestering me about an item I have yet to bring. Sometimes they are just plain standoffish, giving me dirty looks and questionable stares. Yes, I am there to serve you, but remember I am a human being and not your slave. I forget things and make mistakes, let me fix it without you giving me the nth degree death stare.


Needless to say I really dislike my job, yet I also love it. The people you meet whether it is your co-workers, managers or the customers can secretly be a blessing in disguise.


Now, back to my story. I was working a day shift and I had a table of two. They were older, maybe in their early 50s. Both of them joked with me and were appeasable customers, and when a table like this comes along you don't mind hustling your ass to get them extra ketchup or even another plate. While I was chatting with them I found out that one of the two men had just recently got out of a coma. He was in a serious motorcycle accident where he broke his jaw, all his ribs and had internal bleeding. By the description of his injuries it sounded like he should've been dead instead of sitting there talking to me. I was amazed at his story and his willingness to be open about it. It was an important meal for him because for awhile he was only eating his meals through a tube. He of course got a rack of ribs and ate every last bit of it.


At the end of the meal I dropped the check. He handed me a folded up 50 dollar bill and said, "this is for you, not anyone else in the restaurant." I was shocked at his generosity seeing that their meal was about 40 dollars in total. He said he understood great service. I thanked him profusely and just walked away, eyes watering and all. I know what you're thinking, 50 bucks is chunk change. For me 50 bucks is a lot. And not a lot of money to buy things n such, but 50 bucks worth of kindness. So, what if he had left me just a regular old 15 percent tip? I would've still have been happy to have met him and had him at my table because he reminded me that life is precious, appreciate people because you never know what may happen next. Sometimes we get lucky when we don't deserve it, therefore pay it forward. And, for your information, I did.

Worth the Space

Love changes you. Unconditional love from another person (family members don't count) gives you self worth. Of course some are built with this worth already streaming through their blood (we sometimes call them, "pompous assholes"), but there are others out there who only see the flaws. I would love to admit that with my own mind and eyes I saw my self worth, but that isn't true. It has taken a lot to even build up my feeling of specialness, especially when it was constantly being shat on by myself and everyone else. Well, not everyone, but you get the point.


Anywho, it wasn't until I met someone very special and dear to my heart that I saw what he saw, the amazing me. It's corny to say aloud, let alone write it on my blog, but it is true. I see that I am so much better than my distant want to be a stripper or the fantasy of being a Playboy centerfold. I see the respect he gives me and I now expect that from everyone else and rightfully so.


I experienced something recently where I was disrespected as a woman and a person. I smiled and just laughed it off, but it wasn't until later that I realized how disgusting and contemptuous their actions were. See, I am still learning. I still have to check myself and say, "Hey, are you really okay with that?" or "Why is it okay for him to say that to you?" I won't go on my feminist rant just yet, but the resolution is that you as a person are worthy of so much more. Allow yourself to be respected and cherished for your amazing and unique qualities. Relish in compliments as if they were chocolate and a free spa treatment because they are. Compliments, praise and respect should give you value. Most of the time we deny ourselves of these things because we don't believe we deserve it, but let me tell you, WE DO.

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.

In my life..

I've been browsing through pictures, reliving memories of everything. A lot of SF memories.

I miss jazzy so much. I miss the street lamps in the sunset glowing as I walked to my brother's house on 29th and Judah. I even miss dizzyingly walking and screaming and calling Chris cause I was so high on molly and liquor.

Yes, I was miserable. But, during the moments when I was high on whatever I could find, god fucking damn I was surely on top of the world. Nothing could stop me. Except maybe throwing up on myself on the muni (I know, super gross, but living the high life aint always clean).

After a friend breakup, jazzy was my shelter. She comforted me and made me start this new chapter of my life. She was my compatriot, my partner in crime. We fucked shit up and were beautiful while doing it. She also introduced me to Eric. Jedi tail man.

Point being, it hurts yet brings tears of happiness to my eyes to look back on this life style, these memories, the love I left behind, not to mention the pain.

I am not friends with these people. I don't know what they did yesterday or what they're doing now.

It's weird how life changes within a year. Your best friends are no longer even friends. merely strangers.

I will say looking back on these pictures makes me want to drink. Makes me want to be the fun, outgoing, funny, sexy, fun girl at the party all over again (I put fun in there twice! interesting). I still wish that one day I'll be able to control myself, but that day will never come until I accept myself. I am still very at odds with who I am and who I want to be and who I've pretended to be.

I love The Beatles of course. Rubber Soul is my favorite album. "My Life" is on there. The beginning is exactly how I feel

There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all

So there you go. I miss all these people.

I miss jazmine
I miss Maddy
I miss Dawn
I miss Dani
I miss Rashad a lot
I miss Jenn
I miss Jessica
I miss it all


My life changed in San Francisco. I changed for better or worse. Now, here I am sober and moderately happy.

sometimes I think I'd risk everything to go back to that time when my life was a constant party of crazy fun and memories I'll never forget.

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.

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.

sobriety

It has almost been a year. I've been sober for almost a year coming this December. I will elaborate more on my experience in December, but there is something I want to say now.

Whether you've been sober for a week or a year or 25 years, time is irrelevant, what matters is the fact that you're trying to change your life.

I am not saying that those who choose the sober life are superior to those who do not choose that path, because some people who don't have a problem with alcohol don't need to change their ways. But, for addicts, deciding to live soberly is the hardest, yet also the greatest first step you take towards changing your life.

That being said, I don't know if I will be sober another year from now, but today I am sober and that is all that matters. One day at a time.


And, honestly the thought of abstaining from alcohol and drugs for the rest of my life is a beautiful prospect that I might want to take on.

Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

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.

Your love is like, a Rollercoaster baby

So some of my relationships are roller coaster rides.

"Your love is like, a Rollercoaster baby, baby
I wanna ride yeah"- Red Hot Chili Peppers

Maybe all relationships are filled with loops, corkscrews, twists and moments that just make you wanna throw up. I don't know about yours, but mine certainly are.

Though my relationships with people can be dizzying and sickening they can also be exhilarating and fun.

I saw the movie Ruby Sparks tonight which was written by Zoe Kazan. Fuck yeah, female writers rock!!!!! Plus, she starred in the film and was simply fabulous!

Shit where was I going with this?

Anywho, go see the movie!

Oh now I remember...I thought to myself, "Why can't I have a romance like the ones in the movies." "Do these sweet, fun-loving, quirky, spontaneous relationships exist outside of Hollywood sets?" I'd like to believe so.

Though, my romances are closer to the horror genre than the lovey dovey comedy romance one.

One of my all time favorite movies, 2 Days in Paris, in short it is about a french woman in love. In the movie you see the hardships with her boyfriend, a cynical, ridiculous, lovely pain in the ass. Think of him as the 2nd time you had anal; feels good, but still kind of hurts.

Anywho, you see everything they go through and they are in constant arguments that end in playful jokes and kisses.

In the end the river cards are seen. I don't want to spoil anything so please just go watch it.

So, even though my relationships with peoples aren't like the ones in the movies, in some I see that I am helping the other person grow and they are helping me do the same. That's what every relationship needs, someone to help you grow because life isn't perfect, we aren't perfect and love is fucking flawed as shit. Life is a journey and progression. In my mind there is no finish line, just the continuation of growing and helping others spread their branches to the sky.

So...

"Here it is. One more, one less. Another wasted love story. I really love this one. When I think that its over, that I'll never see him again like this... well yes, I'll bump into him, we'll meet our new boyfriend and girlfriend, act as if we had never been together, then we'll slowly think of each other less and less until we forget each other completely. Almost. Always the same for me. Break up, break down. Drunk up, fool around. Meet one guy, then another, fuck around. Forget the one and only. Then after a few months of total emptiness start again to look for true love, desperately look everywhere and after two years of loneliness meet a new love and swear it is the one, until that one is gone as well. There's a moment in life where you can't recover any more from another break-up. And even if this person bugs you sixty percent of the time, well you still can't live without him. And even if he wakes you up every day by sneezing right in your face, well you love his sneezes more than anyone else's kisses." - 2 Days in Paris

My own sentiment. You've helped me grow and I think I've helped you a bit too, that's why I don't want to let go. You make me better.

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.

The Greatest Thing

You've seen the movie Moulin Rouge, right?

Christian, an anguished romantic says the infamous line, "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return."

Love, relationships, sex, lust, and everything else in that realm has always been a never ending throbbing headache for me. Still is.

Anywho, "what is love?"

From Merriam-Webster Dictionary online:

a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties (2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests

"Oh baby don't hurt me no more."

Although love seems to be easily defined in the dictionary in reality it can take on many different definitions and actions.

LOVE:

Love thy neighbor.
Loving your grandparents.
Making love to your best friend.
A woman loving another woman.
Returning someones wallet to them.
Taking your dog for a walk.
Saving yourself till marriage.
Love for Yaweh, Allah, Shiva.
Loving yourself.

Love is endless, love makes the world go round.

and as Shakespeare says, "Love sought is good, but given unsought is better." Twelfth Night – Act 3, Scene 1

All my young life I've looked for love, looked for someone to love me back. I'd be pushed into a depression when people rejected me. I'd ask myself "why wasn't I good enough?"

But within the past 24 hours I came to this conclusion: Just to love is good enough.

If I stop focusing on whether or not someone loves me back or not then I'll be golden. I won't feel dejected, ever, because I will not be searching nor wanting their stamp of love.

To love is one of the greatest qualities the human race is equipped with, and especially with our ability to quantify and qualify it in so many ways, well, that just makes us extra lucky.

So for now I love without expecting anything back. Maybe one day my priorities will change, but for now the feeling of fullness I get from caring about people is enough.

And I don't know any other way to explain this, but it is similar to how at christmas you should give presents and not expect to get one back because you receive enough joy and fulfillment out of just giving your love.

The end. love you.

the answers to the questions we all ask

What do you do when you're afraid of losing someone, a different someone all over again?

What do you do when you are afraid of letting everyone down, even though you're trying to do what's right for you?

What do you do when you want something so bad, but you know it's toxic?

What do you do?



-once I find some sort of resolution to all these questions I'll let you know, but for now feel free to answer with your own wisdom.

My updated life status: utterly torn and confused.

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.

Fifty Shades of Fucked Up: unmasked and whipped

Well, I just finished Fifty Shades Darker by E L James. If you don't know already, the trilogy of The Fifty Shades of Grey novels are about the erotic and kinky relationships that spurs between Ana Steele and Christian Grey.

The novels were written as a fanfic for Twilight. Fan fiction is where fans continue the stories of characters such as Bella and Edward or Ron and Hermione or even Hermione and Ginny in a sexually exploited way.

I found Fifty Shades of Grey and the sequel, Fifty Shades Darker to be compelling, yet greatly disappointing.

Besides the fact that it was Twilight all over again just with different names, scenarios and characters, it was disgusting how self deprecating Ana, our protagonist, is and how misleading it is of the world of BDSM.

I'll admit when I first read Twilight while sitting in the hallways of high school, ignoring my hot boyfriend and secretly hoping for a SoCal Edward to appear, I was over the moon about the book. I was a Twihard. Team Edward all the way. Someone please take me to Forks, Washington.

Anywho, I suppose reading this new rendition of the Twilight story and characters under the name of Fifty Shades of Grey, only drove my thought of hatred and disgust further.

The novel's protagonist, Bella and Ana, are so obscenely self deprecating that I think it to be a crime that wounds its readers.

Young girls (maybe or maybe not in the case of Fifty Shades) read these novels thinking that it is okay to think so lowly of themselves. Movies and books influence our lives in ways we can't even begin to know. For anyone who hasn't read either of the novels let me give you a quick summary: Neither Ana nor Bella think they are worthy of the love of the their man (Christian & Edward). They countlessly and tiresomely say how they don't understand why this man loves them. "How could someone like you be with someone like me."

I am sorry Bella and Ana, but shut the fuck up.

They are seriously misleading women and girls to believe that if they think lowly of themselves that there will be some man waiting in the wings for them, professing how unworthy he is of them.

Let me tell you from first hand experience. When you start whining and complaining how you feel unworthy of your lover's heart and soul, they will leave, quickly.

I know because I have had people leave me for that self deprecating behavior. I have left people for that behavior because no matter how often or how much I tell someone I care and love them, they still continuously harp about how they think they are annoying me or how they aren't good enough. It is fucking annoying and honestly after a while you're like, "fine you ugly self loathing person just leave already."

Jeez!

I think the book glorifies women feeling inadequate. Bottom line. You don't have to be pompous and egotistical, but you should love yourself enough to know why someone else would also.


Lastly, though I don't know the dark depths of the licentious lifestyle of BDSM, I do know that Fifty Shades only touches on it briefly. It gives a misleading idea about the lifestyle and I think readers will wrongfully identify with it. To me it does not seem right to romanticize BDSM when the nature of it is pleasure in pain. Let me clarify that I do not disagree with the lifestyle or the choices, but I read the book particularly because I saw a page that said fisting and butt plug on it and unfortunately it was found nowhere else in the book. I find it to be a faulty account of the culture, and that's all.


Overall, the female leads that self loathe and seek validation from a man makes me disgruntled and disheartened. What happened to our femme fatales? Also, painting a picture of leather and whips and flowers and hearts is a jigsaw puzzle of controversy (though that is not to say that there isn't love in BDSM because there is, but too many stupid and naive people are going to read this book and then go out and buy japanese silk rope and accidentally asphyxiate themselves while trying to get off).

At the same time I think it is good to unveil this somewhat taboo lifestyle, hopefully enlightening all those close minded people.

In conclusion, I despise the characters mainly because they mirror an old reflection of myself and I would hate for anyone to hate themselves as much as I did at one point in my life.

The end.

hearts aren't practical

Sometimes I get distracted by the little things. I was happy, gleeful, and excited about what was to come and now I feel morose, disheartened, dejected.

I've been practicing (only in this past week or so) calmness. Trying to take everything in stride. Not overreacting.

But right now I feel like I've been still enough to earn some time to overreact.



My love life sucks. I mess things up with my insecurities and need for self control. Also, I care too much most of the time to the point where I think I am trying to save something, but instead I am just strangling it to death.

I am one of those girls who squeezes her rodents too tight and unfortunately breaks their tiny ribs. Fear not, this is just a metaphor and has never really happened.



I realized today that I wish some of my relationships (is dating considered a relationship?) had continued. I wish I hadn't strangled them to death. I am not broken from these ends because I have better insight than that. But, I still cared then as I do now. Maybe these relationships would've still hit a dead end eventually. I don't know. I just hate when there's this space where old feelings lie, waiting, waiting for something to bring them forth again, but instead you have to pretend that they aren't there or that they are there but you are an adult now so you must quietly ignore them and still be happy. Any day I would take these friendships over the relationships (for now at least), but it's hard to have a friendship when things aren't dead nor settled.

I think we all fear being vulnerable, saying how we feel. The main reason I write on this blog or in my journal is because it is the only place I can really be honest with myself. I admit at times I hide behind this internet interface, but for the most part I'd like to believe that everything here is something you already know, not a surprise where I am virtually stabbing you with words over the internet (though that has definitely happened before, and more than once).

As I continue to grow and learn in this life, I think one big thing that is pertinent to any relationship is communication, being able to say how you feel with integrity and faith that your vulnerability will not go unnoticed and that the other person will give you the same respect to tell the truth, unbridled.

I think it is so difficult because we associate confrontation with anger and negative thoughts. We associate being vulnerable with being helpless and needy.

What if we told someone, that someone, how we felt, completely and truly. The end, no drama, no "why don't you love me?!", no stage 5 clinger, just here are the facts take it or leave it. If we could be completely open and understanding I think we would be a lot better off. And just cause you're understanding, doesn't mean you don't have to pretend you aren't hurt.


Wizard of Oz: As for you, my galvanized friend, you want a heart. You don't know how lucky you are not to have one. Hearts will never be practical until they can be made unbreakable.
Tin Woodsman: But I still want one.

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.

warped

So my wonderful and gracious friend has gotten me a spot on warped tour with this skateboarding company he works for. I'll either be doing promo for them or do assistant camera for my friend and hopefully be taking my own stills in the process. I am honestly beyond excited. I have this idea of what it is going to be like, but I really have no idea what warped your is going to be like ! This is what I want to do though, photography, videography, screen writing, movies, etc. I don't want to be waiting tables. This is me. And you know there's a chance of things coming up, not going my way, but I am going to put on a brave face this next weekend because this is honestly a great opportunity for me and I am thankful for it.


Though life is this continuous tumultuous cycle, in this moment I am very happy for what awaits ahead, good or bad. I feel like each day I am growing and learning and that makes me feel good :)

^will elaborate on later.

By the way, I definitely will be going to Irvine show, Pamona show, San Francisco show and possibly Las Vegas! (though I think for sobriety reasons I will pass on the Vegas stop)

OHHHH an I get to see Taking Back Sunday... FUCK YEAH