Love. The one thing people can spend their whole lives searching for.
It seems that the reason we obsess over this feeling so much is because it is so hard and rare to find.
Some can go their whole lives looking for love. It’s like the buried treasure we all go after. And the green envy we feel when we witness our friends digging it up with a huge smile on their faces.
Some may find love early in life, and some may find it later.
What bothers me is that some often look down upon those who find it within maybe fifteen years of being on this planet. Why? I say sheer jealousy. “Hell, we’re older we should have found it by now, if we didn’t they couldn’t have. It can’t be love, it’s all in their heads.”
Not only does everyone experience and feel love differently, but the worst part is that love is spontaneous. It’s an unexpected arrow that strikes you in the butt when you turn away for a second to finally concentrate on yourself. It comes when we don’t even look for it, and seems to run away from us when we are desperately searching for the sweet affection we’ve longing for.
And with enough deprivation of this sweet affection, soon enough we are walking through the desert of loneliness with severe dementia while seeing mirages of perfect soul mates in the distance.
What we don’t keep in mind is that those mirages are simply illusions of grandeur, and not our treasured soul mates, but in fact just assholes in Tapout clothing who spend their weekends playing beer pong and degrading women.
But fear not, for love does come for everyone. Whether it be with someone they expect, or someone they detest, in ten years, or two days, love always finds a way of creeping up on us.
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Like A Bird.
Letting go.
Probably one of the hardest endeavors we will face in our lives. Just the thought of freeing our hands and letting whatever we are gripping so hard onto just fall, is terrifying. Not to mention something we do more than ever as teenagers. I mean how can we befriend so many people and simply let them fall out of our lives so suddenly? What surprises me is our courage to do it intentionally.
Relationships, 90% of the time at our ripe adolescence, don’t last. We all know that the one we date in high school will probably not end up being the one we marry or share the rest of our life with. Well most of the time.
So why do we take on this commitment, if we know it’ll eventually end? If we know that one day we’ll have to leave that person and maybe never speak to them again? Well because we like that idea. Humans hate the concept of something permanent. As much as we don’t like to admit it, security scares us. The thought of always being able to have something whenever we need it for the rest of our lives is something we cannot stand. Why? Well for starters it’s boring. And second, we love the spontaneous factor in life. Some more than others. Being able to wake up in the morning and not know how the day will go is something we sometimes thrive on. Who wants to wake up knowing exactly how their day will go? I mean isn’t that why the movie Groundhog’s Day was made?
Back to what I was saying.
After we go through the kisses and the cuddling and the falling asleep to each other’s voices, there comes a time where we just say “…next.” Where we decide we’ve had enough and need something new.
Then comes the hard part. Loosening the tight grip we’ve had on this one person for so long and just letting them fall into their own lives without us. The way we can actually do this just blows my mind. The way we can readjust to our lives like some animal that was thrown in a completely different environment and left to survive. And when we finally decide to shut our eyes, hold our breath, and jump into the lives we know will hurt us for a while, we go through those dreadful stages.
There’s the Numbness. The denial, the “alright, I can do this, no biggie.” This of course comes after that whole night of sobbing and binging on chocolate.
Then comes the Irritation. The whole “he’s such an idiot/why did this happen/I wish I could erase everything” phase. The point where you just cry out of frustration all the time and blow up on your friend for dropping your pencil.
In the middle of all this comes Uncertainty. “Maybe he was right. Maybe I did do something wrong. ” This is when one basically bargains on whether or not they really want to remain without this person. It’s when we begin to blame ourselves and maybe even contemplate speaking to that person again.
When we’re almost there, Depression comes in. Yep, this stage is the worst but believe me when I say it always comes. The moping, the loss of confidence and inspiration in life. The “Am I even good enough?”
And when we’ve gone through this entire journey, when we get to the finish line with our clothes shredded and our bodies weak, there comes Acceptance. Giving us all hope that it will get better and that the hole in our heart will now be patched up with something else that makes us just as happy.
These stages sound a lot like the 5 stages of grief don’t they? Well that’s because when we let someone go, when we set them free from our lives to busy someone else's, we do mourn. Because it is losing someone extremely close to you. And although it may not be forever, it is for a long while, and most of the time abrupt. To just cut off communication so quickly from someone you’ve been around for so long is astonishing. And those who have done it should give themselves a pat on the back for being so brave and letting loose from the fixation that was binding them.
And when we do feel lonely, or sad, or regretful, that the person we enjoyed spending time with the most is out of our lives for good, we must always remember that we are just doing what we are programmed to do; live freely, move on, and be happy.
Probably one of the hardest endeavors we will face in our lives. Just the thought of freeing our hands and letting whatever we are gripping so hard onto just fall, is terrifying. Not to mention something we do more than ever as teenagers. I mean how can we befriend so many people and simply let them fall out of our lives so suddenly? What surprises me is our courage to do it intentionally.
Relationships, 90% of the time at our ripe adolescence, don’t last. We all know that the one we date in high school will probably not end up being the one we marry or share the rest of our life with. Well most of the time.
So why do we take on this commitment, if we know it’ll eventually end? If we know that one day we’ll have to leave that person and maybe never speak to them again? Well because we like that idea. Humans hate the concept of something permanent. As much as we don’t like to admit it, security scares us. The thought of always being able to have something whenever we need it for the rest of our lives is something we cannot stand. Why? Well for starters it’s boring. And second, we love the spontaneous factor in life. Some more than others. Being able to wake up in the morning and not know how the day will go is something we sometimes thrive on. Who wants to wake up knowing exactly how their day will go? I mean isn’t that why the movie Groundhog’s Day was made?
Back to what I was saying.
After we go through the kisses and the cuddling and the falling asleep to each other’s voices, there comes a time where we just say “…next.” Where we decide we’ve had enough and need something new.
Then comes the hard part. Loosening the tight grip we’ve had on this one person for so long and just letting them fall into their own lives without us. The way we can actually do this just blows my mind. The way we can readjust to our lives like some animal that was thrown in a completely different environment and left to survive. And when we finally decide to shut our eyes, hold our breath, and jump into the lives we know will hurt us for a while, we go through those dreadful stages.
There’s the Numbness. The denial, the “alright, I can do this, no biggie.” This of course comes after that whole night of sobbing and binging on chocolate.
Then comes the Irritation. The whole “he’s such an idiot/why did this happen/I wish I could erase everything” phase. The point where you just cry out of frustration all the time and blow up on your friend for dropping your pencil.
In the middle of all this comes Uncertainty. “Maybe he was right. Maybe I did do something wrong. ” This is when one basically bargains on whether or not they really want to remain without this person. It’s when we begin to blame ourselves and maybe even contemplate speaking to that person again.
When we’re almost there, Depression comes in. Yep, this stage is the worst but believe me when I say it always comes. The moping, the loss of confidence and inspiration in life. The “Am I even good enough?”
And when we’ve gone through this entire journey, when we get to the finish line with our clothes shredded and our bodies weak, there comes Acceptance. Giving us all hope that it will get better and that the hole in our heart will now be patched up with something else that makes us just as happy.
These stages sound a lot like the 5 stages of grief don’t they? Well that’s because when we let someone go, when we set them free from our lives to busy someone else's, we do mourn. Because it is losing someone extremely close to you. And although it may not be forever, it is for a long while, and most of the time abrupt. To just cut off communication so quickly from someone you’ve been around for so long is astonishing. And those who have done it should give themselves a pat on the back for being so brave and letting loose from the fixation that was binding them.
And when we do feel lonely, or sad, or regretful, that the person we enjoyed spending time with the most is out of our lives for good, we must always remember that we are just doing what we are programmed to do; live freely, move on, and be happy.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Let's Play "Find the Symbolism"
Landon had always been a different boy. No one had known much of his life except for the few mumbles he would occasionally exchange with strangers who had asked. Ever since I had met him he had been a mysterious fellow, something that had attracted me more to him, to his care free way of living.
Months had passed and we became inseparable. Spending the days together and unraveling each other's personalities, one ribbon by one.
But for some reason I felt I wasn't discovering every piece, and that there were still some places left untouched for no one to see.
Over time I had noticed his friends had started to disappear. They were no longer connected to him in any way and when I asked about it, he would shrug and tell me they had grown apart. One time he even told me they had moved away to a better place. Somewhere near Southern California.
But one thing I noticed was ever since I had met the boy, an infuriatingly bothersome tapping would occur on my window at night. The same small red bird would show up at my window for months, tapping away at my window and depriving me of my sweet rest. Every night I would try to go to sleep, and every night the patter began again. But each time I had thought to shoo the bird away, to get it far from my sanctuary, the thought of Landon had come to my mind, and his soft words put me at ease and I simply fell asleep.
Over time I saw Landon less and less, his life had become more of a mystery to me than I had expected it to be. He was disappearing and reappearing in my life without notice. When I would ask him where he was he would shrug and mumble something I couldn’t hear. My hearing had worsened through the weeks and I could barely hear a word unless someone had spoken up. My mother said it was because of the loud music I would play when the bird would show up.
It was Friday night and Landon had called me to go out to eat somewhere. I debated on whether or not I should leave, whether I should spend my time with him, and there was that noise coming from the window once again. The bird was louder this time. I never understood why it bothered me so much, but because of the it’s incessant pounding, I had decided to leave while my migraine hadn’t formed yet.
Motionless.
My eyes shielded, my limbs shaking from the harsh cold hitting it. My arms and legs tied, with nothing under them but cold metal.
I heard the heavy door open. A loud noise followed as it shut and footsteps became more and more clear even through the only muffled sounds my ears could produce.
I felt ice. Buckets and buckets of ice hitting my already numbed body. They hurt, more and more with each throw, each toss filled with such hatred.
I began to shake, to feel the anger in me envelop due to the frustrating cold.
The cubes hitting me like pieces of glass, penetrating my tough skin.
The pelting had finally stopped. I was left dripping with water, shaking uncontrollably and clenching my hands together as if it would warm me up even a little.
It suddenly became warmer. I could feel the sun beating down on my frozen skin, my blue hands and feet, loosening the rope and blindfold that had prohibited me from identifying anyone or anything.
I slowly took off the blindfold and squinted. Everything was so blurry, as if I hadn't seen it before, as if where I was standing was completely unfamiliar to me. Where am I? I thought. This can’t be somewhere I’ve been to before. As hard as I tried I could not make out the place.
But my eyes finally adjusted slowly to see I was standing right inside of Landon’s room.
I scrambled to run, to find a way out of the dim cell, but held my breath when I found him filling up buckets of ice outside. I froze in my footsteps and felt a chill run down my spine. He was going to hurt me, and had hurt others. The man I had always seen as my compassionate everything was a monster. And before I could regain my thoughts to turn around and escape, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “It would probably be in your best interest not to move” the deep voice behind me said.
The voice that had once told me I was beautiful.
I remained immobilized as I felt a hard object brush against my neck. Too scared to see what it was, I shut my eyes hard.
“This is me, this is who I am." he chuckled. "What, you didn't know?" he smiled slyly. "That's no surprise, you’re stupid anyway."
He made his way to me, speaking so closely I could feel his breath on my neck. “This is how I do it. Freeze them until they’re so numb they can’t feel a thing”. His grip on my arm had become tighter, his hands no warmer than my body. I attempted to look for an escape, anything that would free me from this grip that seemed impossible to break away from. But there was not a thing; just an empty room with a knife to my neck, waiting to take me away from my life.
I awoke out of breath, as if what I was dreaming of had stolen my life from me the entire time I had been asleep. Panting, I noticed I could see everything around my room, sharper, clearer than I was used to. I sprouted up to get myself some water but could barely hold the cup in my shaking hands.
I had returned to my warm room and sat down onto my bed. I let out a deep exhale and shut my eyes, attempting to analyze what had possessed my dreams to be so frightful. When I had finally decided to stand up, I peeked outside and was astonished at what I found before me. There on my window sill was a small red bird, motionless and dead.
Months had passed and we became inseparable. Spending the days together and unraveling each other's personalities, one ribbon by one.
But for some reason I felt I wasn't discovering every piece, and that there were still some places left untouched for no one to see.
Over time I had noticed his friends had started to disappear. They were no longer connected to him in any way and when I asked about it, he would shrug and tell me they had grown apart. One time he even told me they had moved away to a better place. Somewhere near Southern California.
But one thing I noticed was ever since I had met the boy, an infuriatingly bothersome tapping would occur on my window at night. The same small red bird would show up at my window for months, tapping away at my window and depriving me of my sweet rest. Every night I would try to go to sleep, and every night the patter began again. But each time I had thought to shoo the bird away, to get it far from my sanctuary, the thought of Landon had come to my mind, and his soft words put me at ease and I simply fell asleep.
Over time I saw Landon less and less, his life had become more of a mystery to me than I had expected it to be. He was disappearing and reappearing in my life without notice. When I would ask him where he was he would shrug and mumble something I couldn’t hear. My hearing had worsened through the weeks and I could barely hear a word unless someone had spoken up. My mother said it was because of the loud music I would play when the bird would show up.
It was Friday night and Landon had called me to go out to eat somewhere. I debated on whether or not I should leave, whether I should spend my time with him, and there was that noise coming from the window once again. The bird was louder this time. I never understood why it bothered me so much, but because of the it’s incessant pounding, I had decided to leave while my migraine hadn’t formed yet.
Motionless.
My eyes shielded, my limbs shaking from the harsh cold hitting it. My arms and legs tied, with nothing under them but cold metal.
I heard the heavy door open. A loud noise followed as it shut and footsteps became more and more clear even through the only muffled sounds my ears could produce.
I felt ice. Buckets and buckets of ice hitting my already numbed body. They hurt, more and more with each throw, each toss filled with such hatred.
I began to shake, to feel the anger in me envelop due to the frustrating cold.
The cubes hitting me like pieces of glass, penetrating my tough skin.
The pelting had finally stopped. I was left dripping with water, shaking uncontrollably and clenching my hands together as if it would warm me up even a little.
It suddenly became warmer. I could feel the sun beating down on my frozen skin, my blue hands and feet, loosening the rope and blindfold that had prohibited me from identifying anyone or anything.
I slowly took off the blindfold and squinted. Everything was so blurry, as if I hadn't seen it before, as if where I was standing was completely unfamiliar to me. Where am I? I thought. This can’t be somewhere I’ve been to before. As hard as I tried I could not make out the place.
But my eyes finally adjusted slowly to see I was standing right inside of Landon’s room.
I scrambled to run, to find a way out of the dim cell, but held my breath when I found him filling up buckets of ice outside. I froze in my footsteps and felt a chill run down my spine. He was going to hurt me, and had hurt others. The man I had always seen as my compassionate everything was a monster. And before I could regain my thoughts to turn around and escape, I felt a hand on my shoulder. “It would probably be in your best interest not to move” the deep voice behind me said.
The voice that had once told me I was beautiful.
I remained immobilized as I felt a hard object brush against my neck. Too scared to see what it was, I shut my eyes hard.
“This is me, this is who I am." he chuckled. "What, you didn't know?" he smiled slyly. "That's no surprise, you’re stupid anyway."
He made his way to me, speaking so closely I could feel his breath on my neck. “This is how I do it. Freeze them until they’re so numb they can’t feel a thing”. His grip on my arm had become tighter, his hands no warmer than my body. I attempted to look for an escape, anything that would free me from this grip that seemed impossible to break away from. But there was not a thing; just an empty room with a knife to my neck, waiting to take me away from my life.
I awoke out of breath, as if what I was dreaming of had stolen my life from me the entire time I had been asleep. Panting, I noticed I could see everything around my room, sharper, clearer than I was used to. I sprouted up to get myself some water but could barely hold the cup in my shaking hands.
I had returned to my warm room and sat down onto my bed. I let out a deep exhale and shut my eyes, attempting to analyze what had possessed my dreams to be so frightful. When I had finally decided to stand up, I peeked outside and was astonished at what I found before me. There on my window sill was a small red bird, motionless and dead.
Monday, September 13, 2010
I Feel With My Liver.
Mentally, people don't break. We're not toys that become damaged or bikes that come with a warranty.
We're made to heal and survive. One doesn't just crack open and leak until there is no more emotion left to flow through their veins. It's not like our hearts can just stop working due to too much abuse or sorrow. It heals, and slowly begins to work again.
What many people see their heart as is a giant emotion filled vessel in our chest where we keep all of our deepest secrets and thoughts.
Not just some pumping organ that helps distribute blood throughout the body.
What I've wondered is why the heart is the part we listen to? Why do we follow it and try to find so called keys to other people's?
I mean can't we think with our livers?
We get heartaches, bruised hearts, even broken ones. Well Literally speaking, when someone's heart breaks, they die.
So maybe we use this metaphor, since we literally need our heart to live. And since this vessel is so important to our well being, when they’re bruised or scarred, it does seem like the end of the world.
We speak of this heartbreak as if we are on the verge of dying! As if we name our hearts as the storage place for our emotions because of its ever-so precious value to the human body.
I mean with a battered heart, one cannot move on... let alone move, right?
You can fix a broken stomach or a bruised liver but it is true, the heart is our most important thing to have working. Because once it stops pumping, we cease to exist.
Maybe that's why break up’s are so dramatic.
People who claim to have no heart are barely even alive. Just floating around aimlessly and emotionless.
What is strange to me is that people brand themselves as broken when they've had bad pasts. When events have occurred before that have damaged their souls and simply left them scarred, according to them. As if they were an iPhone that was dropped in the water or something and just doesn’t seem to work right anymore.
Can we really be scratched or bruised?
After all, most of us see our hearts as a reflection of our outer selves, prone to blows and punches, slowly healing after each beating.
Those who don't want to get into relationships after a bad breakup; just looking out for their hearts. I mean they are still fresh with wounds. You can't blame them for only giving the necessary dosage of time and Neosporin to heal.
And by Neosporin I mean chocolate.
But we cannot dwell on these little cuts and bruises we get along the way of our
life. We shouldn't brand ourselves as damaged goods. We should call ourselves
courageous heroes who have made it through the battle with nothing but a few
scratches.
Because like all slices and wounds, the ones on our hearts heal. They heal until
the only thing you can see is a microscopic scar that brands you as nothing less
but a brave survivor.
We're made to heal and survive. One doesn't just crack open and leak until there is no more emotion left to flow through their veins. It's not like our hearts can just stop working due to too much abuse or sorrow. It heals, and slowly begins to work again.
What many people see their heart as is a giant emotion filled vessel in our chest where we keep all of our deepest secrets and thoughts.
Not just some pumping organ that helps distribute blood throughout the body.
What I've wondered is why the heart is the part we listen to? Why do we follow it and try to find so called keys to other people's?
I mean can't we think with our livers?
We get heartaches, bruised hearts, even broken ones. Well Literally speaking, when someone's heart breaks, they die.
So maybe we use this metaphor, since we literally need our heart to live. And since this vessel is so important to our well being, when they’re bruised or scarred, it does seem like the end of the world.
We speak of this heartbreak as if we are on the verge of dying! As if we name our hearts as the storage place for our emotions because of its ever-so precious value to the human body.
I mean with a battered heart, one cannot move on... let alone move, right?
You can fix a broken stomach or a bruised liver but it is true, the heart is our most important thing to have working. Because once it stops pumping, we cease to exist.
Maybe that's why break up’s are so dramatic.
People who claim to have no heart are barely even alive. Just floating around aimlessly and emotionless.
What is strange to me is that people brand themselves as broken when they've had bad pasts. When events have occurred before that have damaged their souls and simply left them scarred, according to them. As if they were an iPhone that was dropped in the water or something and just doesn’t seem to work right anymore.
Can we really be scratched or bruised?
After all, most of us see our hearts as a reflection of our outer selves, prone to blows and punches, slowly healing after each beating.
Those who don't want to get into relationships after a bad breakup; just looking out for their hearts. I mean they are still fresh with wounds. You can't blame them for only giving the necessary dosage of time and Neosporin to heal.
And by Neosporin I mean chocolate.
But we cannot dwell on these little cuts and bruises we get along the way of our
life. We shouldn't brand ourselves as damaged goods. We should call ourselves
courageous heroes who have made it through the battle with nothing but a few
scratches.
Because like all slices and wounds, the ones on our hearts heal. They heal until
the only thing you can see is a microscopic scar that brands you as nothing less
but a brave survivor.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Figure It Out.
A broken road.
Just one long, cracked, strip of asphalt ahead and nothing else beside me. There is nobody in front of me, and no one behind following me into the odd mystery in which I am dazily journeying to.
It’s hot. Man, it’s hot. Yet, I’m wearing a bunch of clothes, so many sweaters around my shoulders and articles wrapped around my head. I can barely see through the thick fabric, or smell, or breathe. I’m just walking…wandering.
I see headlights. I hear the sound of a car passing by, the tires hitting the cold pavement as they drive right beside me. I try to look, to see who it could be, someone to the rescue?
My eyes squint and force, but I simply cannot follow the direction of the stranger; I can’t make out where it’s going, where it came from.
Which way I’ve turned now, I have no idea. For all I know, I could be walking back the same way I came. But who’s to say where I’m going anyway? My direction is probably heading towards the same place I’ve been wandering to this whole time. I can’t help but notice the drop in temperature.
Man, it is freezing. I begin to shiver, to rub my hands together and breathe hot air into them as if it would take the pain away from my limbs that were turning into icicles. Maybe I should just keep walking, it will get warmer again…
I suddenly feel someone grab onto my legs, I turn around to find who is latching onto me with such need and desire, such miserable sadness that they need me of all people to save them from their darkness. But my vision is impaired, my sense of direction completely off track, the coldness turning me numb.
My heart beat quickens and my mind races, not knowing what to do, where to go. My throat closes in panic; I try to breathe but cannot get the sweet oxygen into my body.
And I attempt to run, to try to get to my sweet destination quicker and finally have the satisfaction of being able to breathe and feel, but stop in my tracks when I notice I shouldn’t be running when I can’t even see.
Just one long, cracked, strip of asphalt ahead and nothing else beside me. There is nobody in front of me, and no one behind following me into the odd mystery in which I am dazily journeying to.
It’s hot. Man, it’s hot. Yet, I’m wearing a bunch of clothes, so many sweaters around my shoulders and articles wrapped around my head. I can barely see through the thick fabric, or smell, or breathe. I’m just walking…wandering.
I see headlights. I hear the sound of a car passing by, the tires hitting the cold pavement as they drive right beside me. I try to look, to see who it could be, someone to the rescue?
My eyes squint and force, but I simply cannot follow the direction of the stranger; I can’t make out where it’s going, where it came from.
Which way I’ve turned now, I have no idea. For all I know, I could be walking back the same way I came. But who’s to say where I’m going anyway? My direction is probably heading towards the same place I’ve been wandering to this whole time. I can’t help but notice the drop in temperature.
Man, it is freezing. I begin to shiver, to rub my hands together and breathe hot air into them as if it would take the pain away from my limbs that were turning into icicles. Maybe I should just keep walking, it will get warmer again…
I suddenly feel someone grab onto my legs, I turn around to find who is latching onto me with such need and desire, such miserable sadness that they need me of all people to save them from their darkness. But my vision is impaired, my sense of direction completely off track, the coldness turning me numb.
My heart beat quickens and my mind races, not knowing what to do, where to go. My throat closes in panic; I try to breathe but cannot get the sweet oxygen into my body.
And I attempt to run, to try to get to my sweet destination quicker and finally have the satisfaction of being able to breathe and feel, but stop in my tracks when I notice I shouldn’t be running when I can’t even see.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Me, Me, Me.
Selfishness. One of the worst and best attributes to have in life.
Why selfishness is perceived to be awful is understandable. Whether it’s that you don’t share anything with anyone, or you want everything to yourself for you to have; it does sound horrid, almost like you wouldn’t be someone people would want to be around.
But at the same time, isn’t selfishness what keeps us healthy? I mean, where would we be if we never thought about our own selves? What condition would we be in if we were always thinking about others and their needs, and never about our own?
When we’re babies, we learn that we must think about other’s feelings. We should be “understanding” and “open minded”, and we should you know, share our toys, and not eat paste.
But what they left out in this lesson was that sometimes we actually hurt ourselves by not being selfish enough. By not listening to our needs and focusing so much on someone else’s, we could be ignoring our own feelings that really need to be heard for our own good.
I personally think it’s very strong of a person to be able to step back and look at what is good for them; not just wonder what is good for everyone else just because it’s “convenient” or just because they don’t want to “hurt” anyone. To be able to look at yourself and your needs is a very powerful action. And it means that you have enough respect and love for yourself to do so.
For example most people who are in abusive relationships and keep going back to their abusive spouses, people whose friends only put them down, people who let others talk to them however they feel; those are people who don’t have enough love for themselves to be a little selfish.
To just say “alright now what’s good for me, because I’m awesome and deserve the best” shows very strong character and judgment. Not to mention loads of confidence. And those people probably go further in life than most.
But yes darlings, it is impossible to be healthily selfish if you do not like yourself. And that’s…well…because you subconsciously set yourself up for disaster in attempt to punish yourself for being so “horrible” as you would put it in your own mind. Yep, and that’s all subconscious.
I like to study the human mind.
But that’s a whole other blog.
Of course listening to others is extremely important as well, I cannot stress that enough. Thinking of only yourself is the most horrible thing you can do. One needs to accept that there are many other people in this world and their needs are significant also. Besides, thinking that way is just a setup for loneliness and despair.
But back to my point.
We need to be selfish sometimes. It’s why we pay for doctor’s visits, why we do well in school; because we want to take care of ourselves, we care about our own lives.
Why people say it’s wrong when we do it in our everyday lives, astounds me. And they only really tell you that you’re being selfish when they want their feelings to be heard.
Yep, we all do it.
So as weird as it sounds…selfishness kind of makes the world go round.
Why selfishness is perceived to be awful is understandable. Whether it’s that you don’t share anything with anyone, or you want everything to yourself for you to have; it does sound horrid, almost like you wouldn’t be someone people would want to be around.
But at the same time, isn’t selfishness what keeps us healthy? I mean, where would we be if we never thought about our own selves? What condition would we be in if we were always thinking about others and their needs, and never about our own?
When we’re babies, we learn that we must think about other’s feelings. We should be “understanding” and “open minded”, and we should you know, share our toys, and not eat paste.
But what they left out in this lesson was that sometimes we actually hurt ourselves by not being selfish enough. By not listening to our needs and focusing so much on someone else’s, we could be ignoring our own feelings that really need to be heard for our own good.
I personally think it’s very strong of a person to be able to step back and look at what is good for them; not just wonder what is good for everyone else just because it’s “convenient” or just because they don’t want to “hurt” anyone. To be able to look at yourself and your needs is a very powerful action. And it means that you have enough respect and love for yourself to do so.
For example most people who are in abusive relationships and keep going back to their abusive spouses, people whose friends only put them down, people who let others talk to them however they feel; those are people who don’t have enough love for themselves to be a little selfish.
To just say “alright now what’s good for me, because I’m awesome and deserve the best” shows very strong character and judgment. Not to mention loads of confidence. And those people probably go further in life than most.
But yes darlings, it is impossible to be healthily selfish if you do not like yourself. And that’s…well…because you subconsciously set yourself up for disaster in attempt to punish yourself for being so “horrible” as you would put it in your own mind. Yep, and that’s all subconscious.
I like to study the human mind.
But that’s a whole other blog.
Of course listening to others is extremely important as well, I cannot stress that enough. Thinking of only yourself is the most horrible thing you can do. One needs to accept that there are many other people in this world and their needs are significant also. Besides, thinking that way is just a setup for loneliness and despair.
But back to my point.
We need to be selfish sometimes. It’s why we pay for doctor’s visits, why we do well in school; because we want to take care of ourselves, we care about our own lives.
Why people say it’s wrong when we do it in our everyday lives, astounds me. And they only really tell you that you’re being selfish when they want their feelings to be heard.
Yep, we all do it.
So as weird as it sounds…selfishness kind of makes the world go round.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Well This is Depressing...
Rope...That’s all I see, all I feel between my coarse hands. Just a single strand that I’m holding onto for dear life.
Just rope…
And darkness, man it’s dark in here. I can barely see anything except for the thick thread in front of my eyes. I try to climb it, but my limbs are weakened by indecision, my head spinning from confusion.
How did I end up here?
I look down to see a bottomless pit, I try to squint, make anything out from the shadows. I lift my head up to find that the darkness is simply surrounding me.
I suddenly feel my heart begin to pound louder and louder, faster, I hear it in my ears, I feel it throughout my entire body, the deafening unsteady rhythm striking within me like a drum.
It is now harder to breathe, harder to see, but I do not loosen my grip, I refuse to let go. I reject the idea of simply letting my hands ease up from the rough lifesaver that I’ve been clenching onto for so long.
The concept of just letting myself fall into the uncertainty that was waiting to envelop me frightened me. So I just shut my eyes and hoped that someone would eventually pull the rope and lead me to clarity.
But after waiting 5 days, no one came.
So I took a deep breath, counted to three, and simply...released my hands.
Hey look, I just made a metaphorical blog.
Just rope…
And darkness, man it’s dark in here. I can barely see anything except for the thick thread in front of my eyes. I try to climb it, but my limbs are weakened by indecision, my head spinning from confusion.
How did I end up here?
I look down to see a bottomless pit, I try to squint, make anything out from the shadows. I lift my head up to find that the darkness is simply surrounding me.
I suddenly feel my heart begin to pound louder and louder, faster, I hear it in my ears, I feel it throughout my entire body, the deafening unsteady rhythm striking within me like a drum.
It is now harder to breathe, harder to see, but I do not loosen my grip, I refuse to let go. I reject the idea of simply letting my hands ease up from the rough lifesaver that I’ve been clenching onto for so long.
The concept of just letting myself fall into the uncertainty that was waiting to envelop me frightened me. So I just shut my eyes and hoped that someone would eventually pull the rope and lead me to clarity.
But after waiting 5 days, no one came.
So I took a deep breath, counted to three, and simply...released my hands.
Hey look, I just made a metaphorical blog.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Can I Play?
Oh how nice it must be to be a child.
What am I saying, we were all children at some point in our lives.
Our minds still raw and untouched, still full of fantasies and fears that we have yet to uncover.
We all envy this innocence, for some reason...even though we've all had it.
Of course when we were "little", we wanted nothing more than to be grown up. We gazed at adults, admiring them, wondering when we'd be "able to do that" or "see those movies" or "understand those jokes".
We'd play house and wonder when we'd really have an actual kitchen and a husband or wife.
And when it happens, when we finally wake up with a high school diploma waiting for us or with a briefcase in our hands, all we want to do is go back to that time where we were painting pictures with our fingers.
That time where we had to spend hours and numerous times repeating, just to remember something as simple as our phone number.
Could it be that we envy children because of their ability to forget something in an instant simply because they don't comprehend? As "adults" we can cling onto bad memories and events because we do understand the situations we were put in. It sticks to us because we are aware. Things that happen to us as children are sometimes forgotten because we didn't understand. Our parents would tell us to forget about it and we would just pick up our doll and go play.
But it's not so simple anymore. We're not able to just turn off our minds and turn them over to the wonderful concept of imagination anymore.
I think that's what we really miss the most. The ability to be mentally... free.
Because as much as we like to think we have the most freedom as adults, being a kid is as free as it gets.
What am I saying, we were all children at some point in our lives.
Our minds still raw and untouched, still full of fantasies and fears that we have yet to uncover.
We all envy this innocence, for some reason...even though we've all had it.
Of course when we were "little", we wanted nothing more than to be grown up. We gazed at adults, admiring them, wondering when we'd be "able to do that" or "see those movies" or "understand those jokes".
We'd play house and wonder when we'd really have an actual kitchen and a husband or wife.
And when it happens, when we finally wake up with a high school diploma waiting for us or with a briefcase in our hands, all we want to do is go back to that time where we were painting pictures with our fingers.
That time where we had to spend hours and numerous times repeating, just to remember something as simple as our phone number.
Could it be that we envy children because of their ability to forget something in an instant simply because they don't comprehend? As "adults" we can cling onto bad memories and events because we do understand the situations we were put in. It sticks to us because we are aware. Things that happen to us as children are sometimes forgotten because we didn't understand. Our parents would tell us to forget about it and we would just pick up our doll and go play.
But it's not so simple anymore. We're not able to just turn off our minds and turn them over to the wonderful concept of imagination anymore.
I think that's what we really miss the most. The ability to be mentally... free.
Because as much as we like to think we have the most freedom as adults, being a kid is as free as it gets.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Remember Me?
Crash, I wanna fall, I wanna be somewhere in the middle with you.
Where would we be without our memories?
Without those things that happened in the past that made us smile, laugh, regret, think.
A lot of people say that the past doesn’t matter, that it shouldn’t determine a person’s identity.
They try to convince themselves that the past is simply just…stuff that happened, and it does not make you who you are today. They believe that you make yourself who you are and that it should simply be ignored. What matters is now, right?
But how can we just ignore it when it really does define who we are?
We all know experience builds character.
If our minds were erased every few days, we would never be the same person.
Or really a person for that matter.
I say our past is everything. Every little thing we’ve experienced has contributed to the forming of who we are.
It makes no sense to forget, or obliterate it.
We use it to learn, grow…so why are we always told to move on, and erase it from our minds?
Is it out of fear?
Is it because we are told to never “dwell” or “linger” on events that aren’t relevant to the present?
I mean, if the past makes us who we are, there really should be no reason to just put a giant slab of whiteout over it.
We should use it to our advantage. To figure out why we work the way we do, and how to keep the past...the past. To make sure it doesn't repeat itself.
To just erase it from our minds and say “it never happened?”
Come on, does that really solve anything?
Our brain is carefully crafted.
There’s a compartment for everything.
You can’t just choose a file to delete and think that everything’s peachy keen.
Our minds store memories for a reason, in order to wake up the next day and remember who we are, what our address is, what our phone number is, etc.
Because without our memories our identity is pretty much just the blank space under the “Hello My Name Is”.
It’s up to us to remember enough to fill it up.
To remember who we are, where we come from, and why we are the way we are, why we do the things we do.
What makes us unique, weird, normal, funny, serious.
That’s all determined by what we’ve been through and what we’ve seen.
With our experiences, our scars, and our joyful recollections.
Crash, fall, I like it; I like it, somewhere in the middle with you.
Where would we be without our memories?
Without those things that happened in the past that made us smile, laugh, regret, think.
A lot of people say that the past doesn’t matter, that it shouldn’t determine a person’s identity.
They try to convince themselves that the past is simply just…stuff that happened, and it does not make you who you are today. They believe that you make yourself who you are and that it should simply be ignored. What matters is now, right?
But how can we just ignore it when it really does define who we are?
We all know experience builds character.
If our minds were erased every few days, we would never be the same person.
Or really a person for that matter.
I say our past is everything. Every little thing we’ve experienced has contributed to the forming of who we are.
It makes no sense to forget, or obliterate it.
We use it to learn, grow…so why are we always told to move on, and erase it from our minds?
Is it out of fear?
Is it because we are told to never “dwell” or “linger” on events that aren’t relevant to the present?
I mean, if the past makes us who we are, there really should be no reason to just put a giant slab of whiteout over it.
We should use it to our advantage. To figure out why we work the way we do, and how to keep the past...the past. To make sure it doesn't repeat itself.
To just erase it from our minds and say “it never happened?”
Come on, does that really solve anything?
Our brain is carefully crafted.
There’s a compartment for everything.
You can’t just choose a file to delete and think that everything’s peachy keen.
Our minds store memories for a reason, in order to wake up the next day and remember who we are, what our address is, what our phone number is, etc.
Because without our memories our identity is pretty much just the blank space under the “Hello My Name Is”.
It’s up to us to remember enough to fill it up.
To remember who we are, where we come from, and why we are the way we are, why we do the things we do.
What makes us unique, weird, normal, funny, serious.
That’s all determined by what we’ve been through and what we’ve seen.
With our experiences, our scars, and our joyful recollections.
Crash, fall, I like it; I like it, somewhere in the middle with you.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
You Smell...
Anniversaries are weird when we're young. You know, like two month, five month ones. It makes a relationship sound like...a battle with cancer or something.
"I did it!"
Like it's some kind of acheivement, a struggle that you overcame.
Doesn't that sound weird?
I mean it automatically sets a relationship up to be something that must be "hard" and "stressful" in our minds if we have to celebrate every few months we survive it.
After all, people run away from relationships because they want to, "have fun" and "live".
...It sounds like a relationship is some kind of death sentence to me.
And I don't blame em. At our age it's necessary to explore. Experiencing everything possible is essential to our lives. It's healthy.
Because once we get married- that's it. We're set for life. No more checking out other guys, no more flirting, no more late night talks with strangers. It's all down the drain of the "his and her's" sinks.
Which is why a lot of us cringe at the sound of the word "relationship."
Could it be because of our longing desire to be free of doubt, care, and stress?
Or is it just because we're shallow bastards who want everyone to ourselves?
And that answer will never be found.
I mean, don't brides and grooms have bachelor and bachelorette parties before their weddings so they can squeeze in that tiny bit of freedom before their sentence?
So they can have the last bit of fun with a stranger before they're chained to one another.
Well that's one way to look at it.
The other way is...
...actually I don't think there is another way to look at it.
I mean we all know it's a natural reaction to back away from being tied down. Our instincts tell us to be free.
...like animals.
When you find yourself wrapped up in rope, the first thing you do is try to get out, right?
But if that's so, why do some of us long for a relationship so badly, if it all sounds so... dreadful?
That goes all the way back to "people want what they cannot have."
When we're single it seems as if everyone around us is a couple. Every person we see at the mall is either holding hands with someone, or making kissy faces with their pooky. And yet nobody looks twice at us. And if they do, they are far from boyfriend material.
When we're taken, it seems as though every gorgeous guy in the world got together and said "lets go tempt that chick cause she has a boyfriend".
Why?
Is it our minds doing it to us, or does being taken actually attract more people?
Ding ding ding, if you picked the second choice, you're a smart cookie.
It all has to do with the energy we give off. Believe it or not, energy is something we can sense as much as the smell of a pie baking in the oven.
When we are single, we have a hint of eagerness and maybe even desperation in our energy, which turns many people away.
When we're taken, our energy is just uncaring and distracted, which draws more people in.
Keep in mind, we all do this subconsiously.
...I know right?
Who knew we were so complicated, and that people could actually smell it off of us like perfume?
Eau De Being Obvious.
That was me trying to make a joke.
But back to what I was saying.
There are others who spend their whole lives looking to be...tied up. People who hold out their hands and wait for the feeling of the rough rope to envelope their wrists.
But why does the rest of the population avoid being tied down? Is it because of all those songs and movies about heartbreak that scare us into thinking love will always end up screwing us over?
Because we meet someone else while taken and look down to see our hands tied?
Like we all know, the mind loves to wonder. Which is why "relationship" is such a scary word. Because to most people- it limits their horizons. And suddenly they see a big door that says "don't go there."
And stuff like that is just asking to be broken down.
A relationship is something everyone views differently. Good or bad, fun or stressful. It could be a walk in the park to some people, or to others, a walk on eggshells.
Either way, it is a brave endeavor. Ignoring those rumors about heartbreak and sorrow and fighting and despair and drama and simply...jumping in.
And to me, that is one hell of an achievement.
"I did it!"
Like it's some kind of acheivement, a struggle that you overcame.
Doesn't that sound weird?
I mean it automatically sets a relationship up to be something that must be "hard" and "stressful" in our minds if we have to celebrate every few months we survive it.
After all, people run away from relationships because they want to, "have fun" and "live".
...It sounds like a relationship is some kind of death sentence to me.
And I don't blame em. At our age it's necessary to explore. Experiencing everything possible is essential to our lives. It's healthy.
Because once we get married- that's it. We're set for life. No more checking out other guys, no more flirting, no more late night talks with strangers. It's all down the drain of the "his and her's" sinks.
Which is why a lot of us cringe at the sound of the word "relationship."
Could it be because of our longing desire to be free of doubt, care, and stress?
Or is it just because we're shallow bastards who want everyone to ourselves?
And that answer will never be found.
I mean, don't brides and grooms have bachelor and bachelorette parties before their weddings so they can squeeze in that tiny bit of freedom before their sentence?
So they can have the last bit of fun with a stranger before they're chained to one another.
Well that's one way to look at it.
The other way is...
...actually I don't think there is another way to look at it.
I mean we all know it's a natural reaction to back away from being tied down. Our instincts tell us to be free.
...like animals.
When you find yourself wrapped up in rope, the first thing you do is try to get out, right?
But if that's so, why do some of us long for a relationship so badly, if it all sounds so... dreadful?
That goes all the way back to "people want what they cannot have."
When we're single it seems as if everyone around us is a couple. Every person we see at the mall is either holding hands with someone, or making kissy faces with their pooky. And yet nobody looks twice at us. And if they do, they are far from boyfriend material.
When we're taken, it seems as though every gorgeous guy in the world got together and said "lets go tempt that chick cause she has a boyfriend".
Why?
Is it our minds doing it to us, or does being taken actually attract more people?
Ding ding ding, if you picked the second choice, you're a smart cookie.
It all has to do with the energy we give off. Believe it or not, energy is something we can sense as much as the smell of a pie baking in the oven.
When we are single, we have a hint of eagerness and maybe even desperation in our energy, which turns many people away.
When we're taken, our energy is just uncaring and distracted, which draws more people in.
Keep in mind, we all do this subconsiously.
...I know right?
Who knew we were so complicated, and that people could actually smell it off of us like perfume?
Eau De Being Obvious.
That was me trying to make a joke.
But back to what I was saying.
There are others who spend their whole lives looking to be...tied up. People who hold out their hands and wait for the feeling of the rough rope to envelope their wrists.
But why does the rest of the population avoid being tied down? Is it because of all those songs and movies about heartbreak that scare us into thinking love will always end up screwing us over?
Because we meet someone else while taken and look down to see our hands tied?
Like we all know, the mind loves to wonder. Which is why "relationship" is such a scary word. Because to most people- it limits their horizons. And suddenly they see a big door that says "don't go there."
And stuff like that is just asking to be broken down.
A relationship is something everyone views differently. Good or bad, fun or stressful. It could be a walk in the park to some people, or to others, a walk on eggshells.
Either way, it is a brave endeavor. Ignoring those rumors about heartbreak and sorrow and fighting and despair and drama and simply...jumping in.
And to me, that is one hell of an achievement.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
You Scared Me...
We all have monsters inside of us. The little constant reminders of things we regret doing, taunting us, trying to pull us into the darkness we try so hard to run away from. Those events that have occurred in the past and contributed to the forming of that little dark patch in our bodies. All we try to do is take a bunch of magic markers to try to turn it into a patch of brightness.
But come on, we all know what’s behind the “magic”.
We all fear monsters. They star in the movies that are supposed to scare us until we cannot sleep anymore, they are the antagonists in stories we read. Hell, we grew up thinking they’d pop out of our closets at night and gobble us up.
But…why are we so afraid of monsters if we have one inside each and every one of us? And why do we fear them if we know what they are capable of?
And this all goes back to our fear of losing control.
You know that feeling you get, when you’re so angry that your heart starts beating at warp speed, and your palms get sweaty, and you don’t think you can take a hold of yourself? You warn anyone that walks your path to step off, or else and clench your fists, almost as if to ready yourself, to release that monster just waiting to jolt out?
Of course, we’ve all had that feeling. Because we’re humans. And we’ve all gotten angry. Doesn’t feel like you have control of your body then, does it?
Cause you don’t.
How bout this?
You’re having the worst day possible, and suddenly, thoughts from the past flood your entire thought process. That guy that screwed you over, the friend you lost, the bad Formspring comment. Whatever it is.
Those are your monsters coming out to play. Taunting you, pulling you down into the dark place where they live. Luring you in with cookies and whatnot.
After all, it is a proven fact that being negative is a hell of a lot less effort than being positive.
But you must be careful, for monsters come in all shapes in sizes.
And we spend so much of our time telling those monsters to flee, trying to forget they’re constant existence in our minds.
Hoping they won’t jump out and scare the next person we talk to.
But of course we know they’re there. We never forget about them. And they tend to come out and play at our darkest times, fiddling with our feelings and leaping across our minds, teasing us.
Of course there are some who like playing with their monsters, who enjoy the occasional play time in the dark.
Those people are most likely to become sociopaths and serial killers, for they have no clear vision in the dark. After all, how could they tell what is and is not a monster?
Sure you can try to drown your monsters in alcohol, or suffocate them in smoke, but in the end, a monster is a monster. And it takes a hell of a lot more than some weird substances to make it disappear.
I mean, you need garlic, at least.
Did I just make a vampire joke?
What many people don’t know is, monsters don’t just disappear. We can push and shimmy away from them as much as possible. But they stay in the shadows of our mind waiting for that moment when the door opens, so they can prance out to toy with our heads.
It’s up to us to always keep that door shut, with the brightest of lights outside of it.
But come on, we all know what’s behind the “magic”.
We all fear monsters. They star in the movies that are supposed to scare us until we cannot sleep anymore, they are the antagonists in stories we read. Hell, we grew up thinking they’d pop out of our closets at night and gobble us up.
But…why are we so afraid of monsters if we have one inside each and every one of us? And why do we fear them if we know what they are capable of?
And this all goes back to our fear of losing control.
You know that feeling you get, when you’re so angry that your heart starts beating at warp speed, and your palms get sweaty, and you don’t think you can take a hold of yourself? You warn anyone that walks your path to step off, or else and clench your fists, almost as if to ready yourself, to release that monster just waiting to jolt out?
Of course, we’ve all had that feeling. Because we’re humans. And we’ve all gotten angry. Doesn’t feel like you have control of your body then, does it?
Cause you don’t.
How bout this?
You’re having the worst day possible, and suddenly, thoughts from the past flood your entire thought process. That guy that screwed you over, the friend you lost, the bad Formspring comment. Whatever it is.
Those are your monsters coming out to play. Taunting you, pulling you down into the dark place where they live. Luring you in with cookies and whatnot.
After all, it is a proven fact that being negative is a hell of a lot less effort than being positive.
But you must be careful, for monsters come in all shapes in sizes.
And we spend so much of our time telling those monsters to flee, trying to forget they’re constant existence in our minds.
Hoping they won’t jump out and scare the next person we talk to.
But of course we know they’re there. We never forget about them. And they tend to come out and play at our darkest times, fiddling with our feelings and leaping across our minds, teasing us.
Of course there are some who like playing with their monsters, who enjoy the occasional play time in the dark.
Those people are most likely to become sociopaths and serial killers, for they have no clear vision in the dark. After all, how could they tell what is and is not a monster?
Sure you can try to drown your monsters in alcohol, or suffocate them in smoke, but in the end, a monster is a monster. And it takes a hell of a lot more than some weird substances to make it disappear.
I mean, you need garlic, at least.
Did I just make a vampire joke?
What many people don’t know is, monsters don’t just disappear. We can push and shimmy away from them as much as possible. But they stay in the shadows of our mind waiting for that moment when the door opens, so they can prance out to toy with our heads.
It’s up to us to always keep that door shut, with the brightest of lights outside of it.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Green, The New Black?
Jealousy.
Probably the worst little monster that crawls around our insides and clogs our emotional pores.
We all know the famous saying “jealousy can drive a person mad”, or the one that goes “jealousy can make a person go to great lengths”.
…wait; don’t they say the same thing about love?
Doesn’t love drive us to crazy extents and makes us do stupid things?
That’s what I’ve always heard.
I have this theory about love and jealousy being linked very closely. Sometimes we think we’re in love, when really, we’re just in…jealousy.
I mean, we’ve all seen it.
There are lots of couples who stay together not because they love each other, but simply because the idea of their significant other being with someone else is too much to bear. Couples that make themselves believe they’re inseparable, when really they’re just incapable of being separated.
I hope I’m making sense here.
Let’s use a middle school reference. Let’s say, I don’t know, Brandon comes up to Colleen and asks her out. Now, she doesn’t like Brandon and never has. So without even skipping a beat, she refuses and walks away, not thinking much about it.
The next day, she sees he’s asked out Sally. Now, something stirs inside of her, and after watching them together flirting and whatnot, she realizes she really does like Brandon.
...Or does she?
See what I’m trying to say?
A lot of the time we don’t realize it, but we subconsciously “fall in love” out of pure jealousy. Just because we want what we cannot have, or something that others have.
I’m sure in that situation; Colleen would do anything to get Brandon back for herself. And that’s where that expression comes from. Because we are told that we do crazy things for love when in fact, most of the time it is out of jealousy.
We all watch the movies, where we see the woman rejecting the guy and then suddenly caring and going insane when she sees him with another woman. Then it ends with them falling in love and being together.
What it doesn’t show, is that same woman dumping him two weeks later when she sees another piece of eye candy she wants to chew on. Then the third movie where she returns to the guy when she finds out he’s moved on.
It’s the common story we have all heard and seen countless times.
We don’t like the feeling of getting something taken away from us. It’s just human nature. We like to have things and keep them to ourselves. And then once we have them, we want something else. It’s normal.
What isn’t normal is that we’re taught that we’re falling in love in this situation when we’re not; That we’re being told that it’s okay to do crazy things for love when your “loved one” is with someone else.
We can’t control jealousy. Hell, it’s the “herpes” of emotions.
The flare ups are uncontrollable and intolerable when they come, and sometimes it can get so bad, it requires a lot of time to get rid of.
But all emotions are tough, especially now at this time in our lives when they seem to control us.
…Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?
I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of the constant mood swings, crying attacks, and sudden chocolate cravings that come with this whole “adolescence” package deal. I mean, I can’t help that it was just left on my doorstep one morning with a post it attached that said “this is gonna suck”.
What’s the return policy on this thing?
Probably the worst little monster that crawls around our insides and clogs our emotional pores.
We all know the famous saying “jealousy can drive a person mad”, or the one that goes “jealousy can make a person go to great lengths”.
…wait; don’t they say the same thing about love?
Doesn’t love drive us to crazy extents and makes us do stupid things?
That’s what I’ve always heard.
I have this theory about love and jealousy being linked very closely. Sometimes we think we’re in love, when really, we’re just in…jealousy.
I mean, we’ve all seen it.
There are lots of couples who stay together not because they love each other, but simply because the idea of their significant other being with someone else is too much to bear. Couples that make themselves believe they’re inseparable, when really they’re just incapable of being separated.
I hope I’m making sense here.
Let’s use a middle school reference. Let’s say, I don’t know, Brandon comes up to Colleen and asks her out. Now, she doesn’t like Brandon and never has. So without even skipping a beat, she refuses and walks away, not thinking much about it.
The next day, she sees he’s asked out Sally. Now, something stirs inside of her, and after watching them together flirting and whatnot, she realizes she really does like Brandon.
...Or does she?
See what I’m trying to say?
A lot of the time we don’t realize it, but we subconsciously “fall in love” out of pure jealousy. Just because we want what we cannot have, or something that others have.
I’m sure in that situation; Colleen would do anything to get Brandon back for herself. And that’s where that expression comes from. Because we are told that we do crazy things for love when in fact, most of the time it is out of jealousy.
We all watch the movies, where we see the woman rejecting the guy and then suddenly caring and going insane when she sees him with another woman. Then it ends with them falling in love and being together.
What it doesn’t show, is that same woman dumping him two weeks later when she sees another piece of eye candy she wants to chew on. Then the third movie where she returns to the guy when she finds out he’s moved on.
It’s the common story we have all heard and seen countless times.
We don’t like the feeling of getting something taken away from us. It’s just human nature. We like to have things and keep them to ourselves. And then once we have them, we want something else. It’s normal.
What isn’t normal is that we’re taught that we’re falling in love in this situation when we’re not; That we’re being told that it’s okay to do crazy things for love when your “loved one” is with someone else.
We can’t control jealousy. Hell, it’s the “herpes” of emotions.
The flare ups are uncontrollable and intolerable when they come, and sometimes it can get so bad, it requires a lot of time to get rid of.
But all emotions are tough, especially now at this time in our lives when they seem to control us.
…Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around?
I don’t know about you, but I’m sick of the constant mood swings, crying attacks, and sudden chocolate cravings that come with this whole “adolescence” package deal. I mean, I can’t help that it was just left on my doorstep one morning with a post it attached that said “this is gonna suck”.
What’s the return policy on this thing?
Sunday, March 7, 2010
I Wanna See.
As teenagers, our sense of curiosity is heightened about 80 percent.
We are constantly trying to explore, and absorb knowledge, experience. It’s just our instinct. This is the age we are given an increased amount of freedom to roam and discover. And of course, since we over indulge in everything, why would we stop ourselves with anything?
We do it with places, friends, foods, parties, you name it.
But the downside to being an adolescent; we are the most masochistic beings on the planet.
Especially when it comes to significant others.
I'm attracted to men who always seem to have this internal conflict with themselves.
Guys who are constantly thinking, drawing their eyebrows together, in a pensive state when no one is looking.
They are always having a battle inside of them, which, to me is irresistible.
And I know I’m not alone. Whether it's not knowing who they are, what they want, who they like, there is something about them that draws us to the troubled souls.
It's our giving nature, our selflessness that just takes over our being and sends our morals to the corner for time out.
There's just something about observing those who have something hidden deep inside the depths of their distressed minds that just sucks us in, in a matter of seconds.
Freakin Venus fly traps, I'm telling you.
However, 99% of the time, this could be fatal.
It’s like putting the most giving and curious person in the world, and a person who just wants to be left alone to find themselves, together in a room to play.
It’ll most likely end in explosions and chaos.
But how can we tell?
We're just trying to explore. After all, we are young and willing to find things out.
But curiosity just fogs up our lenses, until our vision is so blurred we can't even see what we're doing in front of our faces anymore.
We search and search, until we find ourselves not even looking at the person before our eyes, but seeing through their flesh and into the combat inside their bodies. And I think that is what attaches us; the fact that we get so close to their real selves that it’s too far to turn back.
And we know it's bad for us, of course we know. We're teenagers, not babies.
But like most things that are not good for us, we do them simply to acquire a hint excitement in our dreadful lives that seem to be excruciatingly dull.
The whole "journey to the middle of their souls" is what gives us the thrill. It’s like unwrapping one of those presents that have so much paper, you can never seem to finish tearing up.
Then again, it could be our masochistic selves just taking another jab at our hearts.
I mean, isn't it? Stop me if I'm rambling (too late), but as teenagers it seems as though we always find a way to screw things up for ourselves without even knowing it. The countless “this would happen to me” ‘s or the “I knew it” ‘s, it is like they never end, even though we see it coming. Somehow deep inside of us, we know that this will eventually turn out to be horrible. But like I said, we love to send our consciousness to the back of our heads to shut up so we can have some fun.
And in the end, we always just hit ourselves in the head and repeat how stupid we are, then do it all over again when we see the guy across us dazing off into the darkness of his mind.
We are constantly trying to explore, and absorb knowledge, experience. It’s just our instinct. This is the age we are given an increased amount of freedom to roam and discover. And of course, since we over indulge in everything, why would we stop ourselves with anything?
We do it with places, friends, foods, parties, you name it.
But the downside to being an adolescent; we are the most masochistic beings on the planet.
Especially when it comes to significant others.
I'm attracted to men who always seem to have this internal conflict with themselves.
Guys who are constantly thinking, drawing their eyebrows together, in a pensive state when no one is looking.
They are always having a battle inside of them, which, to me is irresistible.
And I know I’m not alone. Whether it's not knowing who they are, what they want, who they like, there is something about them that draws us to the troubled souls.
It's our giving nature, our selflessness that just takes over our being and sends our morals to the corner for time out.
There's just something about observing those who have something hidden deep inside the depths of their distressed minds that just sucks us in, in a matter of seconds.
Freakin Venus fly traps, I'm telling you.
However, 99% of the time, this could be fatal.
It’s like putting the most giving and curious person in the world, and a person who just wants to be left alone to find themselves, together in a room to play.
It’ll most likely end in explosions and chaos.
But how can we tell?
We're just trying to explore. After all, we are young and willing to find things out.
But curiosity just fogs up our lenses, until our vision is so blurred we can't even see what we're doing in front of our faces anymore.
We search and search, until we find ourselves not even looking at the person before our eyes, but seeing through their flesh and into the combat inside their bodies. And I think that is what attaches us; the fact that we get so close to their real selves that it’s too far to turn back.
And we know it's bad for us, of course we know. We're teenagers, not babies.
But like most things that are not good for us, we do them simply to acquire a hint excitement in our dreadful lives that seem to be excruciatingly dull.
The whole "journey to the middle of their souls" is what gives us the thrill. It’s like unwrapping one of those presents that have so much paper, you can never seem to finish tearing up.
Then again, it could be our masochistic selves just taking another jab at our hearts.
I mean, isn't it? Stop me if I'm rambling (too late), but as teenagers it seems as though we always find a way to screw things up for ourselves without even knowing it. The countless “this would happen to me” ‘s or the “I knew it” ‘s, it is like they never end, even though we see it coming. Somehow deep inside of us, we know that this will eventually turn out to be horrible. But like I said, we love to send our consciousness to the back of our heads to shut up so we can have some fun.
And in the end, we always just hit ourselves in the head and repeat how stupid we are, then do it all over again when we see the guy across us dazing off into the darkness of his mind.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
But I'm Just A Kid...
Boom Boom Bang, I got the fire.
I’ve recently fallen in love with Ke$ha. I think it might be because she sounds like she’s wasted while she speaks. Even though she’s not.
And I kind of admire those people who aren’t afraid to show they’re damaged.
People like Courtney Love or …I don’t know, Amy Winehouse. You know; screw ups.
Because they don’t cover up their vulnerability like most of us do. They don’t put some tough armor on and doubt every accusation they receive.
They simply say, “Here I am, I’m messed up. I’m a drunk. Don’t feel like hiding it.” And I truly admire their brave souls.
It is hard to show who we really are. One of the reasons being we’re so afraid of judgment. One of our biggest fears is being conceived as someone we are not. Having our soul out in the open for everyone to glare at and look into and make up what they want to.
So, we shield ourselves. Something we learned when we were merely tots. When that kid called us a “nose picker” or “infested with cooties”.
We automatically went into this state. Going into our own selves and staying there because it felt safe.
That’s what we believed was the right thing to do. After all, it is our body’s natural response.
When we get older, we resort to things that make us feel better. Good and bad.
Drinking, drugs, food, they’re all things that make us feel protected. Like our soul is buried so far deep that we can’t even see it ourselves. So nobody else can see it right?
It’s weird, huh? Things we obtain as children that we carry around with us forever?
I mean, it’s all about the foundation.
If a kid doesn’t have a good ground, they have nothing. You can’t teach someone manners, or that “sharing is caring” at eighteen. Our brains are pretty much done molding by then. It’s simply finished. And everything we have collected has been stored. So we just do it. Either out of habit or just unconsciously.
Gimme boom boom bang.
The thing about us is that we never do grow up. I mean, we take responsibility for ourselves eventually, but do we ever wake up in a business suit, or to find we’re three times our size?
It’s all a gradual process that is…fairly hard.
Hell, some people don’t even grow up.
Yea, we’ve all seen those adults who are…children. Obnoxious and immature, those who empower you by yelling. Those are things children do. And those are people who have not gone through the process of becoming an adult.
Adult. The word is so dull isn’t it? So…black and white. The word “kid” is colorful…joyful.
Why is that anyway?
Is it really true that childhood is better than adulthood?
Sure, we get to nap and eat whatever we want and not gain weight, but if you think about it; we barely had freedom.
Hell we couldn’t even go to the bathroom without someone holding our hand. We couldn’t move two feet away from our parents in crowded places. And some kids are even attached to leeches now.
…I know.
And we longed for that freedom. All we wanted to do was wear our own heels and dresses and go out and watch as much TV as we wanted and eat as much McDonald’s as possible.
But now…we want to go back to the old days where people were changing our diapers and feeding us goo with a spoon.
And there we go again, going back into ourselves, reflecting, and trying to protect our fragile souls from growing up and getting hit.
Boom boom bang, boom boom boom bang.
I’ve recently fallen in love with Ke$ha. I think it might be because she sounds like she’s wasted while she speaks. Even though she’s not.
And I kind of admire those people who aren’t afraid to show they’re damaged.
People like Courtney Love or …I don’t know, Amy Winehouse. You know; screw ups.
Because they don’t cover up their vulnerability like most of us do. They don’t put some tough armor on and doubt every accusation they receive.
They simply say, “Here I am, I’m messed up. I’m a drunk. Don’t feel like hiding it.” And I truly admire their brave souls.
It is hard to show who we really are. One of the reasons being we’re so afraid of judgment. One of our biggest fears is being conceived as someone we are not. Having our soul out in the open for everyone to glare at and look into and make up what they want to.
So, we shield ourselves. Something we learned when we were merely tots. When that kid called us a “nose picker” or “infested with cooties”.
We automatically went into this state. Going into our own selves and staying there because it felt safe.
That’s what we believed was the right thing to do. After all, it is our body’s natural response.
When we get older, we resort to things that make us feel better. Good and bad.
Drinking, drugs, food, they’re all things that make us feel protected. Like our soul is buried so far deep that we can’t even see it ourselves. So nobody else can see it right?
It’s weird, huh? Things we obtain as children that we carry around with us forever?
I mean, it’s all about the foundation.
If a kid doesn’t have a good ground, they have nothing. You can’t teach someone manners, or that “sharing is caring” at eighteen. Our brains are pretty much done molding by then. It’s simply finished. And everything we have collected has been stored. So we just do it. Either out of habit or just unconsciously.
Gimme boom boom bang.
The thing about us is that we never do grow up. I mean, we take responsibility for ourselves eventually, but do we ever wake up in a business suit, or to find we’re three times our size?
It’s all a gradual process that is…fairly hard.
Hell, some people don’t even grow up.
Yea, we’ve all seen those adults who are…children. Obnoxious and immature, those who empower you by yelling. Those are things children do. And those are people who have not gone through the process of becoming an adult.
Adult. The word is so dull isn’t it? So…black and white. The word “kid” is colorful…joyful.
Why is that anyway?
Is it really true that childhood is better than adulthood?
Sure, we get to nap and eat whatever we want and not gain weight, but if you think about it; we barely had freedom.
Hell we couldn’t even go to the bathroom without someone holding our hand. We couldn’t move two feet away from our parents in crowded places. And some kids are even attached to leeches now.
…I know.
And we longed for that freedom. All we wanted to do was wear our own heels and dresses and go out and watch as much TV as we wanted and eat as much McDonald’s as possible.
But now…we want to go back to the old days where people were changing our diapers and feeding us goo with a spoon.
And there we go again, going back into ourselves, reflecting, and trying to protect our fragile souls from growing up and getting hit.
Boom boom bang, boom boom boom bang.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Mad World.
I think intelligence is probably the most attractive feature someone can have. There really isn't anything sexier than a big brain.
I don’t understand how some people can be fine with just the looks. Just the perfect hair and six pack. They’re completely okay being left with the dull, empty space between their partner’s ears and nothing else inside but air. The conversations about nothing, the small constant wish inside them that they could have an intellectual discussion with their loved one every once in a while. How can they just live with it?
Brains to me are beautiful. I don’t look at someone and think “they’re pretty” or “they’re ugly”. I always wait until they open their mouths and fill my ears with their knowledge and personality. Or lack of.
Then they’re pretty. Or…not.
I know I'm not the only one who thinks a boy with no sense of intellect is completely unattractive.
..I hope I'm not.
The six pack, the muscles, the nice smile- it all goes away with time.
The brain is the one to go last.
That’s something I always like to remind myself.
There are too many guys with big heads.
Too many good looking men that simply don’t see anyone else around them. Sometimes literally.
I blame the girls who throw themselves at them. Come on women, have some dignity. At least it'll bring them back to Earth for a little.
I mean, do "cute" guys get that much, that they can’t even acknowledge someone who’s not unzipping their pants?
It’s insane. Good looking guys are simply un…approachable to most people.
To me- they’re just un…attractive.
Looks are mostly just an excuse to judge someone.
Just an excuse to say “what a cute couple” or “he’s too good for her”. How would people know unless they actually got to know both of them? Just by watching from outside the bubble?
And it's unbelievable what superficial things like this do to us.
Self consciousness, eating disorders, mental instability.
Just because of the way you look. Because of the way your body was made.
It’s disgusting what something as surfaced as the way your face happened to be arranged, is what really matters in this world nowadays.
There are even websites in which you must be “beautiful” to stay on it. If you’re not “pretty” enough, or what society believes is “pretty”, you get kicked off the site. Why? Cause nobody cares about your personality. Just about how big your tits are.
Like they say; It’s a mad world.
…Maybe a little too mad.
I heard from somebody today, that 99% of what we see is just fabricated by our government.
As in- we never see the truth. As in- we could be living in some constructed fairytale.
...Nightmare*
Being born into a lie, and dying with just the knowledge of misleading nothings, can you believe that?
Being told that all I know is…manufactured, took me by surprise. It’s one of those things you keep far in the back or your mind, but don’t really acknowledge until it’s mentioned. And when it is... you just say "oh wow."
For all we know, we could be hooked up to machines in a lab somewhere in space. Being controlled by stiffs in lab coats.
And why do we have so many unsolved mysteries? Why don’t we revolt, and get mass groups of people to question the government’s actions every second of the day until our questions are answered?
Because people simply…leave it alone.
After all, we’ve been told our whole lives that ignorance is bliss.
Maybe that was just a lie too.
I don’t understand how some people can be fine with just the looks. Just the perfect hair and six pack. They’re completely okay being left with the dull, empty space between their partner’s ears and nothing else inside but air. The conversations about nothing, the small constant wish inside them that they could have an intellectual discussion with their loved one every once in a while. How can they just live with it?
Brains to me are beautiful. I don’t look at someone and think “they’re pretty” or “they’re ugly”. I always wait until they open their mouths and fill my ears with their knowledge and personality. Or lack of.
Then they’re pretty. Or…not.
I know I'm not the only one who thinks a boy with no sense of intellect is completely unattractive.
..I hope I'm not.
The six pack, the muscles, the nice smile- it all goes away with time.
The brain is the one to go last.
That’s something I always like to remind myself.
There are too many guys with big heads.
Too many good looking men that simply don’t see anyone else around them. Sometimes literally.
I blame the girls who throw themselves at them. Come on women, have some dignity. At least it'll bring them back to Earth for a little.
I mean, do "cute" guys get that much, that they can’t even acknowledge someone who’s not unzipping their pants?
It’s insane. Good looking guys are simply un…approachable to most people.
To me- they’re just un…attractive.
Looks are mostly just an excuse to judge someone.
Just an excuse to say “what a cute couple” or “he’s too good for her”. How would people know unless they actually got to know both of them? Just by watching from outside the bubble?
And it's unbelievable what superficial things like this do to us.
Self consciousness, eating disorders, mental instability.
Just because of the way you look. Because of the way your body was made.
It’s disgusting what something as surfaced as the way your face happened to be arranged, is what really matters in this world nowadays.
There are even websites in which you must be “beautiful” to stay on it. If you’re not “pretty” enough, or what society believes is “pretty”, you get kicked off the site. Why? Cause nobody cares about your personality. Just about how big your tits are.
Like they say; It’s a mad world.
…Maybe a little too mad.
I heard from somebody today, that 99% of what we see is just fabricated by our government.
As in- we never see the truth. As in- we could be living in some constructed fairytale.
...Nightmare*
Being born into a lie, and dying with just the knowledge of misleading nothings, can you believe that?
Being told that all I know is…manufactured, took me by surprise. It’s one of those things you keep far in the back or your mind, but don’t really acknowledge until it’s mentioned. And when it is... you just say "oh wow."
For all we know, we could be hooked up to machines in a lab somewhere in space. Being controlled by stiffs in lab coats.
And why do we have so many unsolved mysteries? Why don’t we revolt, and get mass groups of people to question the government’s actions every second of the day until our questions are answered?
Because people simply…leave it alone.
After all, we’ve been told our whole lives that ignorance is bliss.
Maybe that was just a lie too.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Withdrawl Symptoms of a Newlywed.
Can you believe how attached we become to some things?
To some people?
How much we begin to love something so much we crave it constantly?
What a lot of people don't notice is that another synonym for love is need.
Wanting someone so bad that you would do anything just to get a glimpse of their smile.
Needing that embrace, their scent, or even their voice in your presence right then and there to make you feel on top of the world.
Soon enough the need becomes so strong, you don't even feel the same without them.
As if they're they only ones who occupy your mind. Your dreams.
Knowing that they would be the only thing to make you feel better.
You just...need it. You need them.
Kinda sounds like a drug, doesn't it?
It's weird.
Like I said- love is a drug.
It's some kind of weird mystery that one can only know, if they try it.
You get one taste and you crave it forever.
You never try, and curiosity just embodies you.
It's hard to think rationally when you've only got it in your system.
Eh it's dumb.
There's no concrete definition for love anyway. Every single person wants, feels, and gives love differently.
I don't get people who have the nerve to tell you you're not in love.
Why aren't you, because it doesn't match their description?
It shouldn't. Why would we even want our love to be the same as everyone else's anyway?
But enough of this love crap.
My hair's getting long.
I feel like rapunzel. Considering my hair was up to my ears a year ago.
It's the Florida humidity.
Isn't it scary how our appearance changes so quickly?
Well, they say these are the years our looks form and mold the most.
That's why it's the hardest.
We don't look the same as we did a year ago. Or even 6 months ago.
This is what contributes to our "teenage identity crisis."
The whole "you're still finding out who you are."
Maybe I just want to be sure already.
I know I'm sick of considering who to be everyday.
Hell, there's a million directions this could go.
We all dislike that paniked feeling, wondering if you'll ever figure out who you actually are. Who you're meant to be.
Apparently it all falls into place in our 17's. For girls at least.
We all know it takes longer for guys to mature. They won't stop changing until they hit 20.
I know right? What a drag.
Yep, they'll still be unstable and confused for a long while.
Well how can we blame them? It's not like as girls we ever know what we want. One second we're happy, the next we're having the worst day, then all of a sudden we need chocolate.
All guys need, is video games and beer.
And us of course.
We provide most of their entertainment and cause of thought process.
What would they do without our mind games?
The thing they don't know is that most of the time, we don't even do it on purpose. We don't realize we torture them mentally.
It's like toying with them is built into us, and we only use it when we need to.
Most of us don't enjoy it, although it is sometimes nessesary.
We're a rather complicated species.
And I think guys aren't as simple as we like to think they are.
Think about it; they've got all the pressure.
It's hard to be a guy. They have to act like what is socially acceptable.
(sigh) blame society.
A guy has to carry his family name, he has to have a bunch of kids and marry, and then he has to provide for that family.
A man without a job, isn't acceptable to themselves. It never was. Even with women making the money nowadays, a man would still feel shameful without at least contributing to some of the funds.
Then again being a woman sure isn't easy. I think everyone knows that.
Especially with all the PMS rants we have about how hard it is to be a girl.
We have to give birth, take care of the kids, go through pain every single month. We have to look good, in order to be approachable. We have to go through terrible mood swings that attack at the worst times.
It's tough being human, isn't it?
Sometimes I just wish I could be a cat.
I'd eat, sleep, explore. Every single day of my life would just consist of those three things which seem to be euphoric to teenagers.
And all I would have to worry about would be which lizard I'd be chasing that day.
No boy problems, no mood swings, no identity crisis. Just lizards.
To some people?
How much we begin to love something so much we crave it constantly?
What a lot of people don't notice is that another synonym for love is need.
Wanting someone so bad that you would do anything just to get a glimpse of their smile.
Needing that embrace, their scent, or even their voice in your presence right then and there to make you feel on top of the world.
Soon enough the need becomes so strong, you don't even feel the same without them.
As if they're they only ones who occupy your mind. Your dreams.
Knowing that they would be the only thing to make you feel better.
You just...need it. You need them.
Kinda sounds like a drug, doesn't it?
It's weird.
Like I said- love is a drug.
It's some kind of weird mystery that one can only know, if they try it.
You get one taste and you crave it forever.
You never try, and curiosity just embodies you.
It's hard to think rationally when you've only got it in your system.
Eh it's dumb.
There's no concrete definition for love anyway. Every single person wants, feels, and gives love differently.
I don't get people who have the nerve to tell you you're not in love.
Why aren't you, because it doesn't match their description?
It shouldn't. Why would we even want our love to be the same as everyone else's anyway?
But enough of this love crap.
My hair's getting long.
I feel like rapunzel. Considering my hair was up to my ears a year ago.
It's the Florida humidity.
Isn't it scary how our appearance changes so quickly?
Well, they say these are the years our looks form and mold the most.
That's why it's the hardest.
We don't look the same as we did a year ago. Or even 6 months ago.
This is what contributes to our "teenage identity crisis."
The whole "you're still finding out who you are."
Maybe I just want to be sure already.
I know I'm sick of considering who to be everyday.
Hell, there's a million directions this could go.
We all dislike that paniked feeling, wondering if you'll ever figure out who you actually are. Who you're meant to be.
Apparently it all falls into place in our 17's. For girls at least.
We all know it takes longer for guys to mature. They won't stop changing until they hit 20.
I know right? What a drag.
Yep, they'll still be unstable and confused for a long while.
Well how can we blame them? It's not like as girls we ever know what we want. One second we're happy, the next we're having the worst day, then all of a sudden we need chocolate.
All guys need, is video games and beer.
And us of course.
We provide most of their entertainment and cause of thought process.
What would they do without our mind games?
The thing they don't know is that most of the time, we don't even do it on purpose. We don't realize we torture them mentally.
It's like toying with them is built into us, and we only use it when we need to.
Most of us don't enjoy it, although it is sometimes nessesary.
We're a rather complicated species.
And I think guys aren't as simple as we like to think they are.
Think about it; they've got all the pressure.
It's hard to be a guy. They have to act like what is socially acceptable.
(sigh) blame society.
A guy has to carry his family name, he has to have a bunch of kids and marry, and then he has to provide for that family.
A man without a job, isn't acceptable to themselves. It never was. Even with women making the money nowadays, a man would still feel shameful without at least contributing to some of the funds.
Then again being a woman sure isn't easy. I think everyone knows that.
Especially with all the PMS rants we have about how hard it is to be a girl.
We have to give birth, take care of the kids, go through pain every single month. We have to look good, in order to be approachable. We have to go through terrible mood swings that attack at the worst times.
It's tough being human, isn't it?
Sometimes I just wish I could be a cat.
I'd eat, sleep, explore. Every single day of my life would just consist of those three things which seem to be euphoric to teenagers.
And all I would have to worry about would be which lizard I'd be chasing that day.
No boy problems, no mood swings, no identity crisis. Just lizards.
Friday, January 22, 2010
Jump In, The Water's Fine.
Change is good.
…sometimes.
Well, most of the time.
It really all depends on whether you want it or not.
There can be change you cannot control, change you have to just go along with.
Or there can be the change that you conduct, for your own good.
Either way, it’s all a scary process.
First you decide on impulse. “yes. I need to do this. Let’s do it now.”
Or it could be, “let’s just get it over with. Like a bandaid.”
You just want to jump into it and not look back.
Then of course, there’s the thinking. All these thoughts come in that you don’t want in your head.
“Should I really do it? Do I really want to? Oh, god I don’t wanna do this…”
And your head just becomes this mashup of uncertainty that you wish you could just get rid of.
Then you spend days comparing how your life would be; better or worse. And those thoughts are still there bothering that part of you that wishes they could just go through with it.
But in this jumble of disorder and doubt in our heads, there’s that tiny voice.
Our “pusher” that says, JUST DO IT ALREADY.
Little by little the nagging ones disappear and your mind simply tells you to go for it.
So, like all situations we’re scared in, we just close our eyes and hold our breath.
Kind of like…walking into the fire.
We go towards the change in hopes that life will be better, more improved than what we had before.
You tell yourself you must do it for your own sake; nobody else’s.
The constant reminder of your own happiness comes to mind every time you stray from it.
And of course there are the people who tell you to go for it, and those who tell you your life is fine the way it is.
Which of course, ignites the chaos once again.
And our mind just won’t shut up until we finally look up, clench our jaw, and take our first painful step into those crackling flames.
…sometimes.
Well, most of the time.
It really all depends on whether you want it or not.
There can be change you cannot control, change you have to just go along with.
Or there can be the change that you conduct, for your own good.
Either way, it’s all a scary process.
First you decide on impulse. “yes. I need to do this. Let’s do it now.”
Or it could be, “let’s just get it over with. Like a bandaid.”
You just want to jump into it and not look back.
Then of course, there’s the thinking. All these thoughts come in that you don’t want in your head.
“Should I really do it? Do I really want to? Oh, god I don’t wanna do this…”
And your head just becomes this mashup of uncertainty that you wish you could just get rid of.
Then you spend days comparing how your life would be; better or worse. And those thoughts are still there bothering that part of you that wishes they could just go through with it.
But in this jumble of disorder and doubt in our heads, there’s that tiny voice.
Our “pusher” that says, JUST DO IT ALREADY.
Little by little the nagging ones disappear and your mind simply tells you to go for it.
So, like all situations we’re scared in, we just close our eyes and hold our breath.
Kind of like…walking into the fire.
We go towards the change in hopes that life will be better, more improved than what we had before.
You tell yourself you must do it for your own sake; nobody else’s.
The constant reminder of your own happiness comes to mind every time you stray from it.
And of course there are the people who tell you to go for it, and those who tell you your life is fine the way it is.
Which of course, ignites the chaos once again.
And our mind just won’t shut up until we finally look up, clench our jaw, and take our first painful step into those crackling flames.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Gimme Some.
Last night at 4 in the morning, I was dumped via text message.
Eh, maybe not "dumped".
But I'm not ashamed to admit that a certain someone simply didn't want me anymore.
Even though I was "all they needed" a day ago.
But hey, I'm a teenager. It happens.
People lie, or change their minds, or want other things.
Can we blame them?
...yes.
Cried until 6 in the morning, then finally managed to fall asleep.
But you know what?
I feel fine.
Instead of spending my day in my room crying, being miserable, and eating my way to "happiness", I spent my day volunteering for Haiti relief.
From the minute I woke up, I spent the day packing clothes and shoes and medicine and blankets- you name it- into garbage bags to send off to people who actually need it a hell of a lot more than I do.
People whose problems are one million times worse than any of mine.
We drove to the American Airlines Arena and unloaded a moving van filled with medical supplies and clothes and canned food. And water- so much water.
I can't even describe the feeling you get when you see a room invaded with an incredible amount of supplies to send to people who really need them. It's amazing.
Remember what I said about feeling better when you spend your time giving?
I don't feel an ounce of sadness or pain.
....right now.
But it really is true. When you devote your time to giving to people with problems, yours seem to disappear. They seem...tiny.
And it's a great feeling. Knowing that what you're doing will make others happy and well.
It's enough to soothe the soul.
Now when I feel like crying, I just wanna buy a bunch of canned food and give it to the poor, or help out at a soup kitchen.
Seems like a healthy way to feel better to me.
I guess it seems selfish but at the same time, it's not.
You should try it. You can trust me.
But you don't have to go through a breakup or have a bad day to volunteer, you should just do it. Because giving and helping others is the best form of satisfaction one can have.
And you can quote me.
I can't wait for those supplies to be shipped out.
But enough of this world changing talk.
I like people who give rather than take.
They seem so much...happier for some reason. So much lighter.
People who just take without giving in return are miserable. As if they're never pleased.
I've dealt with people who would barely give to anybody- whether it was emotionally or physically- and they were never satisfied.
Neither were their partners.
Take this note- if someone is asking you to give more, listen. Because they're probably right.
Unless you've run out of money by pampering them or you can't function due to the excessive amounts of attention you've devoted to them.
Then they're just crazy.
...and you could be too.
Okay now I'm just babbling.
It's the coping Davina.
She's trying to make herself feel better by telling you ways to make yourself feel better.
But no need to worry about me; I'm fine. I'm always fine.
And if I'm not- I'll just keep telling myself I am until it actually comes true.
....now where's the nearest soup kitchen?
Eh, maybe not "dumped".
But I'm not ashamed to admit that a certain someone simply didn't want me anymore.
Even though I was "all they needed" a day ago.
But hey, I'm a teenager. It happens.
People lie, or change their minds, or want other things.
Can we blame them?
...yes.
Cried until 6 in the morning, then finally managed to fall asleep.
But you know what?
I feel fine.
Instead of spending my day in my room crying, being miserable, and eating my way to "happiness", I spent my day volunteering for Haiti relief.
From the minute I woke up, I spent the day packing clothes and shoes and medicine and blankets- you name it- into garbage bags to send off to people who actually need it a hell of a lot more than I do.
People whose problems are one million times worse than any of mine.
We drove to the American Airlines Arena and unloaded a moving van filled with medical supplies and clothes and canned food. And water- so much water.
I can't even describe the feeling you get when you see a room invaded with an incredible amount of supplies to send to people who really need them. It's amazing.
Remember what I said about feeling better when you spend your time giving?
I don't feel an ounce of sadness or pain.
....right now.
But it really is true. When you devote your time to giving to people with problems, yours seem to disappear. They seem...tiny.
And it's a great feeling. Knowing that what you're doing will make others happy and well.
It's enough to soothe the soul.
Now when I feel like crying, I just wanna buy a bunch of canned food and give it to the poor, or help out at a soup kitchen.
Seems like a healthy way to feel better to me.
I guess it seems selfish but at the same time, it's not.
You should try it. You can trust me.
But you don't have to go through a breakup or have a bad day to volunteer, you should just do it. Because giving and helping others is the best form of satisfaction one can have.
And you can quote me.
I can't wait for those supplies to be shipped out.
But enough of this world changing talk.
I like people who give rather than take.
They seem so much...happier for some reason. So much lighter.
People who just take without giving in return are miserable. As if they're never pleased.
I've dealt with people who would barely give to anybody- whether it was emotionally or physically- and they were never satisfied.
Neither were their partners.
Take this note- if someone is asking you to give more, listen. Because they're probably right.
Unless you've run out of money by pampering them or you can't function due to the excessive amounts of attention you've devoted to them.
Then they're just crazy.
...and you could be too.
Okay now I'm just babbling.
It's the coping Davina.
She's trying to make herself feel better by telling you ways to make yourself feel better.
But no need to worry about me; I'm fine. I'm always fine.
And if I'm not- I'll just keep telling myself I am until it actually comes true.
....now where's the nearest soup kitchen?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Honestly.
The truth hurts. We all know it does.
But we grew up thinking it was right to tell the truth; to never lie. I mean, our biggest fear was to end up like the little boy who cried wolf, right?
So…why do people become so upset when you tell them the truth about themselves? Why do friends become mad when you tell them their boyfriend is cheating on them, or you don’t like their new style?
Aren’t you supposed to do that? Supposed to tell the truth like you were taught to?
Nobody wants to hear the truth about themselves. One of the reasons being: we already know. We recognize our flaws; physical and mental. Hell, we know ourselves better than anyone. We spent our whole lives with ourselves.
But if we know the truth, why do we hate when someone reminds us we’re selfish or our outfit doesn’t look so great if we already are aware of it?
Well we all have that little place inside us. The spot in our heart where all of our insecurities, fears, and hate for things we do ourselves, hide. There’s something about other people reminding us of them that just hits it hard.
We try to leave that place alone. Sure we acknowledge it, but we wouldn’t visit it everyday.
There are good truths of course; whether your hair looks nice, whether you lost weight, stuff like that, that touches our happy place. That tiny, tiny place in our heart that keeps all the things we actually like about ourselves.
Even if it’s only one or two things.
Why is it that we feel so good and confident during the rest of the day when we hear we look cute? And why do we feel so horrible and introverted when we’re told we look weird without any makeup on?
It’s those little darts that hit our targets of confidence- and insecurity. And having other people affirm the things we hide deep inside the depths of our souls, honestly just makes us vulnerable. Like our soul is suddenly bare and on a silver platter for everyone to dissect.
When we’re reminded of the good things, we like our soul to open up. We want people to see all the good things we think we are capable of being. Suddenly we say inside “well…there are other good things about me, right?” And we notice our head is held a little bit higher when we walk the halls.
But back to lying.
For some reason as we grow up, we begin to learn that sometimes lying can “protect” people.
“I didn’t tell you about your cheating boyfriend because I didn’t want you to get sad. I was just trying to prevent you from getting hurt.”
“I told you I had a family thing because I didn’t want you to feel bad that I had another party to go to.”
It’s like suddenly, everything we learned about lying and its horrible outcomes, just disappears.
Suddenly it’s okay to lie because you’re preventing pain. But in the end, aren’t we just causing it?
“White Lies” as we call them.
We even have a name for lying with “exceptions.
Of course- being humans- we use the lessons we are taught since day one. Sharing is caring, violence is wrong, don’t eat paste. We grew up to think lying wasn’t okay. And that we’d be devoured by a wolf if we did it.
So we walk around as kids, calling overweight people fat, and ugly people ugly. Because- that was the truth. And we did what we were told was right to do.
But as we grew older, it suddenly became totally outrageous to say those things to people.
All because the hard truth hurts.
And that’s what they should teach us when we’re merely tikes. It’ll definitely save a lot of confusion and trouble, I’ll tell you that.
There’s also that whole “just kidding” phrase, which, come on, is basically used to cancel out a true statement or make it seem less harsh; like you really didn’t mean it.
“Yeah? Well your hair is weird. …just kidding, just kidding!”
And sometimes we don’t even remember what people say after that phrase is said!
It’s like it’s completely erased from our minds within thirty seconds just because they said those two words which really mean, “that’s not the truth” or “I didn’t really mean it.”
But truth and lying will always be one of those weird unsolved theories that we can’t figure out. They will always have exceptions and certain circumstances. Lying isn’t okay, yet sometimes it is, and telling the truth is okay, even though sometimes it isn’t.
Doesn’t make much sense does it?
Then again why should things make sense?
After all, things are more fun when they don’t.
We all need complicated things to keep us busy with our boring lives.
…Just kidding.
But we grew up thinking it was right to tell the truth; to never lie. I mean, our biggest fear was to end up like the little boy who cried wolf, right?
So…why do people become so upset when you tell them the truth about themselves? Why do friends become mad when you tell them their boyfriend is cheating on them, or you don’t like their new style?
Aren’t you supposed to do that? Supposed to tell the truth like you were taught to?
Nobody wants to hear the truth about themselves. One of the reasons being: we already know. We recognize our flaws; physical and mental. Hell, we know ourselves better than anyone. We spent our whole lives with ourselves.
But if we know the truth, why do we hate when someone reminds us we’re selfish or our outfit doesn’t look so great if we already are aware of it?
Well we all have that little place inside us. The spot in our heart where all of our insecurities, fears, and hate for things we do ourselves, hide. There’s something about other people reminding us of them that just hits it hard.
We try to leave that place alone. Sure we acknowledge it, but we wouldn’t visit it everyday.
There are good truths of course; whether your hair looks nice, whether you lost weight, stuff like that, that touches our happy place. That tiny, tiny place in our heart that keeps all the things we actually like about ourselves.
Even if it’s only one or two things.
Why is it that we feel so good and confident during the rest of the day when we hear we look cute? And why do we feel so horrible and introverted when we’re told we look weird without any makeup on?
It’s those little darts that hit our targets of confidence- and insecurity. And having other people affirm the things we hide deep inside the depths of our souls, honestly just makes us vulnerable. Like our soul is suddenly bare and on a silver platter for everyone to dissect.
When we’re reminded of the good things, we like our soul to open up. We want people to see all the good things we think we are capable of being. Suddenly we say inside “well…there are other good things about me, right?” And we notice our head is held a little bit higher when we walk the halls.
But back to lying.
For some reason as we grow up, we begin to learn that sometimes lying can “protect” people.
“I didn’t tell you about your cheating boyfriend because I didn’t want you to get sad. I was just trying to prevent you from getting hurt.”
“I told you I had a family thing because I didn’t want you to feel bad that I had another party to go to.”
It’s like suddenly, everything we learned about lying and its horrible outcomes, just disappears.
Suddenly it’s okay to lie because you’re preventing pain. But in the end, aren’t we just causing it?
“White Lies” as we call them.
We even have a name for lying with “exceptions.
Of course- being humans- we use the lessons we are taught since day one. Sharing is caring, violence is wrong, don’t eat paste. We grew up to think lying wasn’t okay. And that we’d be devoured by a wolf if we did it.
So we walk around as kids, calling overweight people fat, and ugly people ugly. Because- that was the truth. And we did what we were told was right to do.
But as we grew older, it suddenly became totally outrageous to say those things to people.
All because the hard truth hurts.
And that’s what they should teach us when we’re merely tikes. It’ll definitely save a lot of confusion and trouble, I’ll tell you that.
There’s also that whole “just kidding” phrase, which, come on, is basically used to cancel out a true statement or make it seem less harsh; like you really didn’t mean it.
“Yeah? Well your hair is weird. …just kidding, just kidding!”
And sometimes we don’t even remember what people say after that phrase is said!
It’s like it’s completely erased from our minds within thirty seconds just because they said those two words which really mean, “that’s not the truth” or “I didn’t really mean it.”
But truth and lying will always be one of those weird unsolved theories that we can’t figure out. They will always have exceptions and certain circumstances. Lying isn’t okay, yet sometimes it is, and telling the truth is okay, even though sometimes it isn’t.
Doesn’t make much sense does it?
Then again why should things make sense?
After all, things are more fun when they don’t.
We all need complicated things to keep us busy with our boring lives.
…Just kidding.
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