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.

Italia!

Check out my new blog, all about my current monthly stay in Florence, Italy!

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.

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.

Saturday Night at the Movies

How can I make this post short and sweet so that I can get onto the homework I have been putting off for a whole week? I can't I have a feeling this is going to be a very very very long post. Which means it's probably very therapeutic for me and extremely boring for you.

This weekend, in particular Saturday was everything you want a night out in L.A. to be. There was booze, hookups, bras flying, grinding pelvises, joints stinking up the room, and little bits of fame.


Maybe this won't be a long post because at the moment I am having a very hard time articulating what Saturday was for me.

It was freedom. It was madness. It was everything I told, "no" to over the past year.

I drank. It has been a year and a couple months.

"Help yourself," he said. Bottle service. Fuck yeah. Had a total of probably 4 shots worth of alcohol, but even after the smidge of jose cuervo I had I was tipsy. Everyone knows that with tequila off comes the clothes.

After Jose it was a mini handle pull of seagrams 7.

It felt odd. Like I was drinking for the very first time, all over again. It felt good. I felt stupid, and happy, and good.

It is weird what alcohol can do to you. Let me add that before I had drank I was feeling just as good. This alcohol just added a bit of fire to the night.

Now like oh my god. I broke my sobriety. I am a dry drunk. This is all true. But I wanted to have some fun, let loose and enjoy myself. Plus, I've been scared to break my sobriety. As if I would be letting other people down. I should only be letting myself down. This is my choice, all about me. If I want to drink I'll drink. It started becoming more of a game of how much longer can I stay sober rather than a commitment. I mean everything from my past is true. I have a problem controlling my alcohol intake. I drink usually for the wrong reasons. But saturday night none of that seemed to interefere or whatever.I should still be able to drink. and I did. just as it was my choice and only my choice to stop drinking it was certainly mine to have another one.

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.