Stressful Race to Success

Journal, Personal, Blame, fuck you, Failure, Relationships

My life is kind of crazy and I feel like chaos follows me.

When I am reprimanded for doing something that has been taken out of context, I fall apart. It can feel like I can’t do anything right.

I just want some peace out of this world. But peace is the one thing it seems I cannot have.

I went to a group therapy session with my mom and oldest sister, which stirred up anger and conflict inside me – which alone was enough – but when I got back home, my landlady yelled at me for something I hadn’t done. That’s the worst kind of thing to be reprimanded about. I cried. My mind is still racing and I can’t go downstairs because we have three other guests staying over tonight. I feel insane. Trapped. Left in the same position I always am put in. Uncomfortable. Confrontational. Stressful.

I’m so angry. I have no time to myself. I work. I go to school. I do homework. I eat. I appease people to make it run smoother. But inside I’m falling apart and I have feelings for this dude who is really nice but isn’t into me.

I wanna punch a fucking wall. Getting zeros from a teacher who can’t possibly understand the situations I have been put in.

Realizing I don’t have a 4.0 GPA anymore and I’m not going to get into a great college because I look like a fucking slacker. But really I’m just taxed with stress and shitty parents and people who leave me when I need them most. How the fuck am I supposed to put every ounce of my energy toward school when I work thirty hours a week and bottle up my anger and aggression and have a mom who picks her fucking boyfriend over my wellbeing. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

I’m so fucking pissed off about how my parent’s actions have put me in a goddamn disadvantaged spot. They were immature, made decisions that placed me fifty feet behind everyone else. It doesn’t matter how far I run, or how much effort I contribute, I will never be at the same place as someone who started those fifty feet ahead of me and put the same amount of effort in.

I’m doing my best. That’s still not enough.

If I worked as hard as I do now, but started where everyone else got to, I can only image the great shit I’d do.

Instead, I’m surviving. Barely scraping together things that get me by. Getting the low hanging fruit because there’s nothing else left for me by the time I get there. I’m running in a race but my legs are permanently cramped. I’m singing a solo but my throat is sore. I’m a writer with no hands. And I didn’t bring this upon myself, it’s simply the life I was put in. It’s not because of my attitude, or my outlook on life, it’s not because I’m gay, or because I’ve some how done something to deserve this – I deserve this life just as much as a CEO deserves a trust fund, or those rich kids in beverly hills deserve a Lamborghini.

This is simply my life, and we have to play the cards we’re dealt. But fuck this game, and fuck that race.

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Progression

beautiful, Beauty, Future, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, school

My world has drastically changed in the last three weeks.

At 17, I have now moved out of my mom’s home and in with my 20 year old sister. I’m working 30 hours this week while also trying to maintain my grades in high school, but it seems manageable and even fun because I don’t have a stressful home life anymore.

Sure I still have my issues and some day are not great, but most of them are. Fuck, I woke up at 5:30am yesterday and didn’t go back into my house until 11:30pm but I was fine and happy even because there’s no turmoil or anger and I know that home is a safe place.

Also, I’m like sort of vegan now. There are some days that are entirely vegan and some where I’ll get regular milk in my coffee at starbucks, so I don’t openly call myself a vegan because I’m not – but I’m eating almost entirely plant based right now.

Also, I’m over Santana – which only took like a few months – but yeah I’ve moved on and there’s this pretty cool dude at work who I’m interested in.

I’m going to try to pace myself and not be too crazy – but uh, I think we could be good friends.

It feels really good to be on my own, outside of my parent’s homes. So far my grades are staying up and I’m getting to work, and everything is functional – I’m preparing to apply to universities which is totally scary. This time next year I might be living in San Francisco, going to SFSU, and studying to become a Technical Writer. What??

I’m not quite sure what the fuck is happening with life right now because everything is seemingly just working and that is new.

I’m gonna just accept it and relish that life is good.

Bursting Apricot

beautiful, Beauty, Blame, Creative Writing, feminism, forgotten, fuck you, Future, Her, Humanist, Journal, New, Personal, Poetry, Relationships, school

I have many glass vases sitting on a shelf.
Some are blue, others yellow,
Your’s was the color of an apricot on a warm summer day.

With flakes of red bursting from the center
And warm orange undertones, calming the world.

It was the color of my heart. Before it fell off my shelf.

Now the colors have separated, amidst the shards of broken glass,
The glass and color intertwine, the way vines and lattice do.

A psychedelica puddle on the floor, irreparable.
Still beautiful, but in a more human way.

Poetry Time

beautiful, Beauty, bisexual, feminism, Future, Her, Journal, Love, New, Peace, Perfect, Personal, Poetry, Relationships, Sexuality, Small Things, Smiling

There, across the room,
Short brown hair, she laughs like an angel.
Angsty jacket, tapping her foot elegantly,
Her curves, outlined by the white t-shirt she wears.

Perfection, softly smiling – stealing glances,
Hoping to not be caught.
Her voice is like honey, or maybe silk,
the way it graces my ears.

Her eyes are deeper, more fulfilling than
fucking outer space. Remind me of the stars,
everything they’ve seen.

I dream of holding her hand, feeling
her breath on my neck, lips against mine.
Look into my eyes. Look.

 

Life Update: New Feelings

beautiful, Beauty, bisexual, feminism, fuck you, Future, Her, Hope, Journal, Love, Loving Life, New, Partner, Perfect, Personal, Relationships, Sexuality, Small Things, Smiling

It’s been awhile since I posted, mostly because my laptop stopped working. I’m beginning to realize that I post on here so I can look back at my life with a roughly complete set of documents on how I felt at a particular point in time.

It’s interesting, seeing how I’ve struggled in the past compared to how I struggle now. The recurring issues, what I was once passionate about – the things that got me angry or made me feel loved.

I currently have feelings for someone. It’s really bad. Kind of taking over my life. But that’s always how I can tell that it won’t become something – I’ve never dated someone I was infatuated with. It’s just never happened.

But jesus she’s beautiful. Distracting, even. I find myself forgetting what we’re doing in class because of the way she taps her foot or smiles. I’m worried she only sees me as a friend, though.

Last year, we entertained the idea of being something – which she couldn’t have forgot (could she??). We were talking for like a week before she told me she wasn’t over her ex. So I let it go and went on with my life and kept talking to Charley to pass the time. That worked all summer – but now I’m back at school and have two classes with the most beautiful person on campus, she is impossible for me to ignore.

I want to know everything about her, the details about her childhood, her greatest fear in life, I want to hang out on Saturdays in our pajamas while she plays video games and just hang out. I would be happy just to be in her presence. She’s talented, beautiful, funny, and just plain perfect. I have a feeling that my sister and close friends are tired of hearing me talk about her, and I understand because I’ve definitely been there with someone – when they just won’t shut the fuck up about a person that they’ve liked for ages but never pursued anything with.

It’s just annoying.

But the thing is, I am worried to pursue anything because we tried things out like four months ago and she let me down easy. The thing about not being over her ex is 50% chance a way of not hurting me while also getting me to go away or 50% the truth. SO, if by chance it is the first option, I don’t want to make a fool out of myself by declaring an undying love for her beauty and mind when she is totally not feeling it.

I’d rather keep my mouth shut and slowly die inside as I grow more and more fond of her. I’ve been rejected so many times, I probably couldn’t count. Actually, I could – I am just happy naive. But my point is that I don’t want to be rejected again. My heart couldn’t take it, not when I feel this strongly. I’d probably be bed ridden for a week and not be able to eat again.

She does talk to me, though. Which is something. She waved at me the first day of class, and talks to me before class too. I wonder if she can tell how flustered I get? Or if I blush.. I’ve been known to blush before.

My heart physically aches when I think about her. This is so shitty and also so fucking amazing.

Why do I feel this strongly when I like someone?

God. It feels like something is wrong with me because everyone else seems to just ease into relationships. They go so goddamn smoothly and no one is put in an awkward position of liking the other person more.

Why can’t I be so fucking smooth? Just enough for her to realize I’m not a total nut job.

Even though I sorta am

She said she liked my art today.. Probably just being nice, because what else would have been a polite response? I shouldn’t let it get to my head.

FUck. Why do I have to respond 2 minutes after I get a goddamn snapchat from her every time? She takes like 20 minutes, but I’m over here, Ms. Needy Asf, and responding lightning fast. No wonder she is acting unsure – I’m way too clingy. Fuck. I need to be more detached, don’t I? Show that I’m not gonna be a psycho bitch…

I hate when I write posts like this and I think about how the future me knows how this all pans out. Like, do I go psycho and smash her car windows while screaming and crying because we dated for a year and I found out she never loved me? Do I confess my feelings to be rejected and told she isn’t that into me, and we’re better off as two gay people who are just friends? Or maybe we move to Hawaii and live there until we’re 100 and raise chickens on a property overlooking the ocean and drink coffee early in the morning as we watch the sunrise? I kinda like that last option a lot. Perhaps I never say anything. I just let this perpetual mood swing go on until we graduate and go our separate ways in life. I hate that thought, of moving on with my life and just having her not be a part of my everyday life.. Shit, and I felt like a three day weekend was going to be rough.

I really have feelings for this girl, but I don’t know what the fuck to do right now.

Let’s Go

beautiful, Beauty, Creative Writing, Future, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Nature, New, Peace, Personal, Relationships

Everyday I am alive, the realization that I have no idea what I’m doing sets in a little bit more.

That my anxiety is a hormonal reaction, and that everyone sees the world very differently.

I’m discovering how I want to see the world, and the person I want to become.
Seeing what makes me genuinely happy, figuring out how to deal with difficult people/situations, and the ongoing struggle to react in ways that represent who I want to be.

I’m finding that I need someone to love. There is an overwhelming amount of love inside of me that I want to give, paired with my extensive barriers that my experiences have created. It’s near impossible to trust when I have given so much love to find that I was being used. Naïveté in it’s purest form, to love someone who has no intentions of loving you back.

I also have the need to travel, to go somewhere that no one speaks my language and I’m scoffed at for being american, and to taste food that was prepared farther away from my home than I have currently been. I want to ride a plane across the ocean, look out the window and be afraid. I want to skydive, ride in a hot air balloon, bungee jump, and watch the sunrise in India while a bustling city wakes up below me. I want to sip a latte in Paris as it rains, eat a orange in the south of France, kayak in Greece, I want to see and go everywhere.

I want to learn how to love running and to be someone the weak envy.

I want to eat avocado toast for breakfast with a cup of black coffee everyday at five-thirty in the morning before I have to go to work.

I want to save money, and have a life I am proud of living.

That is really what I want. To be proud of my life. Escape limiting beliefs and achieve everything my heart desires. I know I can. I will.

Caring Too Much, as per usual

Blame, Failure, fuck you, Journal, Partner, Personal, Relationships

I’m bitter toward those who reject me – but who the fuck wouldn’t be?

Thinking about all the people who have turned me down really drowns out the ones who have obsessed over me.

God it hurts to think about all age times that a guy has told me he doesn’t reciprocate the feelings. Then again, I go through men like I breath air. It’s like a natural part of my DNA to not stick with one, but love them deeply and thoroughly for like three seconds.

I’m unlovable. Aren’t I?

Will anyone ever actually care about me?

I’m sitting in a Starbucks right now wondering if anyone will ever want to sit in front of me in one of these damn cafes for longer than five months. If they have enough love for me in them to last.

Part of me still loves every single one of the douche bags who has hurt me – I’m thinly spread out over so many people. It’s hurting me, I don’t love anyone who loves me back and this is starting to feel like a goddamn curse. Fucking stupid curse, at that.

I just want someone who cares about me for who I am, every last flaw. But there is literally no one out there who fucking cares about me like that.

Even the band kids have more self respect than to date me. They smell my desperation and I reek of passion no one desires  – they run. I need different goddamn pheromones or some shit.

I’m that girl who is alright looking, ya know? I’m like semi-interesting but narcissistic and no one is here for that shit.

I’ll be fuckin single forever unless I date a goddamn stalker.

Why is everyone so shitty.

Where Are You?

fuck you, Her, Journal, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships, sex, sexual harassment, stalker

I started going to therapy, so far I’ve been twice. I’m not doing well. I’ve been increasingly more insecure and unhappy with myself over time – noticing things I hadn’t before and losing sleep over back fat or my stretch marks. I’ve been rejected, almost raped, and ghosted so many times now that I’m giving up on finding anyone worth being with. They’ve either fucked my sister or have confederate flags hanging in their room – or something equivalent. There’s the emotionally unavailable, the too eager, the borderline sexual assaulter, the one who loves too hard too fast and then it fades, the one who stays with me cause it’s convenient, the one who loves me but I don’t feel the same, the one who is way too old for me.

Where is the one who works with me? Where is that type?

Used

fuck you, Journal, no trust, Partner, Personal, Relationships

I am an idiot. I knew he hadn’t changed, that I was being used. I’m hurt and irritated at myself for allowing this to happen.

If he had cared about me, he never would have ghosted me – let’s be honest about that for a second. He left and didn’t look back, the whole story about being intimidated by me was a rouse to win me over because he could see my skepticism. He knew I had been hurt and that the only way to get me to be his cure for loneliness he had to woo me with some fake ass compliments.

God, I am so stupid. Ashamed that I didn’t have the self respect to back out of this sooner. Frustrated that it got to the point where he wasn’t opening my snapchats or responding to my texts.

I must be one fun confidence boost for him, huh? Just message me when you’re feeling down about yourself because you know I’ll give you attention and respond in two seconds.

Fuck you, Jacob. Fuck your dumb ass stories and pleasantries. I need a punching bag and some healthy food to binge eat, I mostly need the goddamn punching bag, though.

You pop into my life when it suits you, respond when it suits you, are into me when it suits you. Well you know what I think suits you? Garbage. Go live on sunset blvd where you fucking belong, you scum.

What I hate more than feeling used is the fact that you used me, and how many other girls you have done this to. I cannot have been the only person you reconnected with or got ahold of because you were lonely.

Fuck you. Get a grip and start acting mature.

I’m Fine

Creative Writing, Failure, fuck you, Her, Journal, Memories, no trust, Partner, Peace, Personal, Relationships

Tears dropped from her eyes, “I’m fine,” no one was there to hear the statement “I’m fine” desperately repeated in a hysterical plea.

How could she be fine? Her grandfather lay in the ground, deep in a concrete hole. She felt sick – Their last goodbye would always be that; Their last. 

“I’m fine,” the words stuck to her lips like fly paper “I’m fine” a lump rose in her throat, her stomach felt like it was filled with acid.  

Her mother walked through the door, “Guess who hit goal today!” Completely oblivious to the breakdown the girl was having. “The sweetest older couple came in and bought two temperpedics!”

In that moment she realized how much she meant. That her mother’s job had more significance than her tears.

Later that night her sister asked to hangout, they would go driving and get Starbucks, and talk. Really, her sister would do the talking and tune her out if she said a word. Or complain that she never listened and used her for Starbucks because the girl didn’t have a job to pay – when she had been invited, said thank you, and apologized for not having the funds – when her sister had insisted she get something and upgraded her drink from a grande to a venti without asking – but then blamed her. 

The sister would talk about cheating on her boyfriend of the time, about going out and partying, and when the girl didn’t respond with “Ooooh, take me!” She was met with a glare, and asked why she was being judge mental.

Like she was supposed to support getting wasted and cheating – but she loved her sister. She didn’t want her to feel like she was taking advantage of her.. She went out with her sister because it was the only time they spent together anymore.. Even though she felt used and unwanted, she went because it was her big sister. She loved her more than anything else in the fucking world.

“I’m fine” she laughed when she passed her ex on the freeway, making eye contact. 

“I’m fine” when she slept with someone who she barely knew

“I’m fine” when she got an average SAT score

“I’m fine” when the dude who ghosted her popped back into her life and disappeared again.

But the world was crippling her, weighing her down when she realized just how average and mediocre she would become. When she realized she would be like her parents and barely be able to afford to pay the bills. Questioning her ability to survive when she was already thinking about how to kill herself, and had been for the last six years. 

Thinking about her dead grandpa, realizing one day she would die and there nothing she could ever do about it. 

She was anything but fine, in a world that masked and beautified anything terrifying. She felt lost, but didn’t want comfort. She wanted assurance, she wanted answers that didn’t exist, but most of all she wanted to feel loved, when no one had ever taken the time to make her feel cared for.