1. Get my damn license already
2. Go to the beach, read, eat a million acai bowls
3. Launch summer menu
4. Apartment furniture shopping
5. Paint in the nude
6. Do more photo shoots
7. Pick up kickboxing
Monday, March 31, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
Some days
Most days, it's okay. I wake up, look out the window, and feel perfectly glad to be alive.
On some days, I wake up to wish that I didn't. It seems like for no good reason to have fallen out of love so randomly. But that's what it is. And for the rest of the day, it gets harder and harder to fend off the urge to get in bed and cry and heave and sleep. The world around seems different on some days, muffled. But I'm staring at all their faces and it's as if they don't see me as the air gets used. That's just some days, scattered throughout existence.
On some days, I wake up to wish that I didn't. It seems like for no good reason to have fallen out of love so randomly. But that's what it is. And for the rest of the day, it gets harder and harder to fend off the urge to get in bed and cry and heave and sleep. The world around seems different on some days, muffled. But I'm staring at all their faces and it's as if they don't see me as the air gets used. That's just some days, scattered throughout existence.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
We are not friends
For a long time, I thought that we were friends. The beginning was nice. It was casual with pretty dresses and wry smiles and good arguments. The beginning of everything is damn nice. And towards the middle we shared our problems and talked about the serious stuff and made promises that we couldn't keep.
For a long time, I thought this was friendship. I thought that you and me would be okay not talking for awhile because you did your thing and I did mine and it was good to be able to say, "Hey, I don't talk to my best friend everyday and that's fucking fine." Let's be honest, it's been kind of shitty.
I pushed the idea back that maybe I'm just overreacting again. I might just be dramatic and crazy and sensitive...all the things I hate in myself. So I pushed the idea back, pushed back the thought that we are not friends. We have not been friends for a long time, you and me. We stopped talking, and stopped thinking about what we'd talk about next, and how the other person might be feeling at some random given moment.
Maybe it was just me at the beginning who felt all that crazy stuff because I tend to do that a whole lot. It makes me sad, if I'm being totally honest. If I'm being super honest, I don't really know if I'm mad at you or if I'm mad at me for giving so many fucks from the start of something doomed.
We used to know each other. We could have been friends, but you haven't texted me anything meaningful in awhile...just a nonchalant, "hey, how've you been?" followed by silence while I listen in on the faint chatter on your end of the conversation with other people.
I meant to tell you how I felt, but I couldn't do it because you're doing so well now with your health and your school and your new friends. I'm glad I didn't find you by the river, hanging on a tree. I'm glad, and that's what I tell myself because if I admit otherwise, I'd really have to reevaluate myself as a person and that's something I cannot do without you.
We are not friends. We have not been friends for a long time now. I had to let the world know somehow.
For a long time, I thought this was friendship. I thought that you and me would be okay not talking for awhile because you did your thing and I did mine and it was good to be able to say, "Hey, I don't talk to my best friend everyday and that's fucking fine." Let's be honest, it's been kind of shitty.
I pushed the idea back that maybe I'm just overreacting again. I might just be dramatic and crazy and sensitive...all the things I hate in myself. So I pushed the idea back, pushed back the thought that we are not friends. We have not been friends for a long time, you and me. We stopped talking, and stopped thinking about what we'd talk about next, and how the other person might be feeling at some random given moment.
Maybe it was just me at the beginning who felt all that crazy stuff because I tend to do that a whole lot. It makes me sad, if I'm being totally honest. If I'm being super honest, I don't really know if I'm mad at you or if I'm mad at me for giving so many fucks from the start of something doomed.
We used to know each other. We could have been friends, but you haven't texted me anything meaningful in awhile...just a nonchalant, "hey, how've you been?" followed by silence while I listen in on the faint chatter on your end of the conversation with other people.
I meant to tell you how I felt, but I couldn't do it because you're doing so well now with your health and your school and your new friends. I'm glad I didn't find you by the river, hanging on a tree. I'm glad, and that's what I tell myself because if I admit otherwise, I'd really have to reevaluate myself as a person and that's something I cannot do without you.
We are not friends. We have not been friends for a long time now. I had to let the world know somehow.
Green
I'm not completely exactly sure how to put the words together to express how I'm feeling. Upset, indubitably. But this feeling that I feel feels inexplicable by nature as if I'm denying myself the ability to fully come to terms with the situation of where I've landed myself in terms of academics, friendship, and psychological stability. Something is wrong with me as it's always been and I can't help to shake the feeling of wanting to leave all over again. I want to get off the peninsula and towards wherever else and right now I'm thinking Portland, but I really don't know. I don't know what I'm feeling here or there . I can't articulate what is good for me or wrong or right. All I know is that there is a ball of lead in my stomach right now and I don't know what will happen next and this feeling that I felt all those months ago, the sheer excitement, is gone.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Things I like
There are things I like, things that make me happy even if it's for just a minute:
1. Stationary, notebooks, paper. Thick, cream-colored paper. Sometimes bound by hand, sometimes loose leaf. It's a blank canvas.
2. Flowers. The kind where the smell fills the whole room, the whole street. Jasmine might be my favorite. Gardenias are nice too.
3. Swimming. At any time, I can stop and be okay and float on. I don't have to listen to anybody. I can go as hard as I want until I only feel the burn in my lungs.
4. Sunlight on my skin. Sunlight burning through the sunblock. The smell of the sun and California's dry air with bits of brine.
Things I like from a place I viciously detest.
1. Stationary, notebooks, paper. Thick, cream-colored paper. Sometimes bound by hand, sometimes loose leaf. It's a blank canvas.
2. Flowers. The kind where the smell fills the whole room, the whole street. Jasmine might be my favorite. Gardenias are nice too.
3. Swimming. At any time, I can stop and be okay and float on. I don't have to listen to anybody. I can go as hard as I want until I only feel the burn in my lungs.
4. Sunlight on my skin. Sunlight burning through the sunblock. The smell of the sun and California's dry air with bits of brine.
Things I like from a place I viciously detest.
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