I Dream of Saints

bisexual, feminism, Her, Humanist, Journal, Love, Personal, Relationships, Smiling

Here I am, writing again. Releasing my experiences through my fingertips and into the vast internet to be consumed. This time I express conflict. My perplexed nature as I encounter this modern sensuality. Conflict of my mind and actions – this disassociation of my heart and psyche.

I see her, and I am permeating with joy. Though I do not love her. At least not in any measure that I have ever encountered. This is a new, colorful feeling.

Last night I dreamed of her. Meeting at night, we kissed – but when my mom caught us she said she would find what I loved most and take it from me, simply to make my life miserable.

There is this fascination that follows her – it’s alluring and seductive. Nearly magnetic.

Trying to take things as slowly as possible, I’ve agreed that we shouldn’t seek any relationship. It would be a lie to say I didn’t care for her, though. She inspires me, invokes curiosity. Happiness.

Nonetheless, I want to be single. I rush into relationships far too often, and find myself regretting it 9 times out of 10. Allowing for my emotions to fog my judgement. Trying to avoid regret and heartbreak, I’m allowing for the world to let things fall into place.

Look At Me

Blame, Failure, Family, fathers, forgotten, home, Journal, Personal, Relationships, school

There are more people who dislike me in the world than like me. I’m not even sure my own friends like me- who even are my friends? The people at the high school aren’t that close to me and the kids I did the musical with are like disinterested in me and the people at erclc don’t even care about me anymore.

Even the people who live with me don’t talk to me- it’s been two weeks since my mom’s boyfriend has even acknowledged my existence. He has been ignoring me when I’m in the same room as him and hasn’t look at me or said a single word to me since May 10th.

I feel like I have no one.

People don’t respond to my snapchats, they don’t respond to my texts, and last night Sam sent me a video of his friends saying i should fuck myself.

Perhaps I’m just a terrible person who does terrible things and it’s easy to hate me.

I came so close to killing myself last night. It feels like only three people in the world really care that I live and breath.

I’m temperamental, narcissistic, over dramatic, insecure, controlling – I’m a million terrible things combined into one shit storm of a person.

I’ve burned bridges with people because of my personality, I’ve hurt myself and others simply by being me. Why am I like this? I honestly believe that I am the worst person I know.

I’m a disappointment to my mom, I’m such a burden to her.

I was a burden to my grandparents as well.

And to my aunt and uncle.

Look at me, a fucked up human who people hate. A academically failing piece of shit who will never fulfill their dreams. Look at me. I’m awful. I’m just a plain bitch. I can’t even fucking do the dishes like my mom asks.

I haven’t changed. I’m still shitty. I hate myself.

I want loving parents who care about me. I want to be kissed on the forehead and for someone to make me tea before bed and I want someone to care that I’m suicidal. I want someone to tell me not to, to say that I have so much to live for and that they believe I can do it.

Instead, I have a mom who comes home and complains about work everyday.

I haven’t had a normal conversation with my dad since I was 13.

I’ve broken friendships and people are uncomfortable around me.

Look at me. Who have I become?

Burdens You Face

Creative Writing, Family, feminism, home, Journal, no trust, Personal, Poetry, Relationships

We burden her.
She won’t admit it, but we burden her.

We talk, but she doesn’t like being reminded of her burdens.
We cry, and her burdens are overwhelming.
She can’t stand us.

Forbid her burdens have issues that need attention.
Forbid they demand health treatments that cost money.

Isn’t it feminist to be selfish?
She wants to think so, and selfishness it is.

This burden doesn’t react well when yelled at by the Abusive Coward,
But let’s slap a “sensory overload” tag on it and call it good.

That burden doesn’t like being threatened by the Abusive Coward,
It leaves and it’s a bad, bad burden.

The smallest burden, the loudest, it needs attention and her time,
but that time is called for by the Abusive Coward.

The coward, he is the victim when he strikes a Burden.
The coward, he is the victim when he threatens a Burden.
The coward, he is the victim when a Burden cries.

She sees humanity in the coward,
She sees love in the coward,
She sees hope, light, and prospect in him.

Her burdens weigh her down,
Suck her dry, they kill her spirit.
Despite being their mother, these burdens are inhuman.

She carried them around, 9 months each.
9 months to learn to despise them,
9 months to learn she would never have freedom.
9 months to realize she carried the children of a man she loathed.

I am her burden, one which has been steadily growing seventeen years.
I am her problem, which she can’t ignore.
I am the outspoken burden which plagues her,

Plaguing her existence with demands.
Fair treatment.
Therapy.
Vegetables.

Extremities which cannot be fulfilled.
Demands which are impossible.
Requests that are beyond capability.
I am your burden, mom.

Godless Life

Athiesm, beautiful, Creative Writing, fuck you, Her, home, Jealousy, Journal, Love, Memories, Peace, Personal, Relationships

I’ll admit it, I’m happy they broke up – because for a short while I loved him.

I mean, who likes to feel replaced?  Who desires to see someone they would confide in become attached to someone new? not me.

Never me.

I may have disagreed with him on everything, he may have been an asshole at times, but I cared deeply for his shitty ass.

I hate that I cared, but I can’t help how I felt toward him.

But there he is. Sitting in front of me again, his gross hair that flips out at the bottom, his thick red jacket (the one that’s extremely fuzzy on the inside, the one that would keep my hands warm on rainy mornings before AP Psych). He got new shoes, I still wear the watch he gave me. a few weeks after we broke up he wore the leather bracelet I gave him, I wonder if he still has it. Why do I care? If he honestly came to me to make amends and try again I wouldn’t take him up on it – he hurt me too much.

He lied.

He dated Felicia.

He let me meet his family, when he knew he didn’t love me.

I loved him.

I could tell he didn’t love me.

I ignored it.

I’ll admit  it, as shitty as it makes me, I was happy when I found out his relationship wasn’t happy – I didn’t care that much if he loved her, I just was happy she didn’t love him.

He’s christian again,

lives with his crazy dad,

probably going into the military.

I’m atheist as fuck,

want to go to university,

I want to travel and live a godless life.

A life of love, of friendship, of tidiness and sex.

I want to burn candles on rainy days,

sleep in on Sundays,

read case studies and policies while drinking black coffee,

eat pomegranate seeds and avocado toast –

White bed spread.

Black bookshelves.

Wall of windows overlooking Seattle.

Seeing a therapist every Tuesday.

A clean fridge.

A white cat, miniature dachshund.

My godless life.

Family Stress

Family, Future, home, Journal, Personal, Relationships, school

My mom. If I were going to describe her in a few words, I would say she was brave and independent.

I have looked up to her for a few years now, but honestly there’s a lot that my mom has never offered me.

For one, emotional support.

She has the tendency to downplay my emotions so she doesn’t have to deal with my problems. Using phrases like “mind over matter” to push her agenda that we can overcome emotions simply by making yourself feel another way. Whereas, I believe in completely feeling the way I do before moving on to another thing, I don’t want to mask my emotions or hide from them – believing that such behavior simply delays the time I could spend feeling happier.

I don’t want to just shit on my mom, because while I do believe she has been a more than sufficient provider, she lacks the loving touch, open ears, and shoulder to cry on that I have always desired in a mother.

Those are things neither of my parents have been able to provide me, and I believe this has led to my intense desire to have a partner who I can hug and be close to.

She is rough, however also loving in her own way, but her rough nature makes it incredibly difficult to show her love. The things she wants done, and the ways I show her love are two entirely different things.

She complains a lot about how hard her work is, which I can definitely see – she is the manager of two pains in the ass, and is constantly having to fix their fuck ups. She is required to stay in that boring building, not allowed to use the internet for her own personal entertainment, and they don’t even have music playing.

But.. who doesn’t have problems like those that they have to deal with? Isn’t it just part of being a functioning person to separate your work/school struggles from home life?

Her attitude about life is depressing me. Often, I find myself wondering if I will be the same way. If I will find myself sitting on stairwells at 10pm when I am 40 years old, crying about where my life is going, the decisions I have made.

It was when I started looking at my mom this way, I realized how much I didn’t want to be like her.

I still admire her for everything she has done, accomplished, overcome… but I do not want to be her.

She is exhausting, never happy or content, she doesn’t even know what can make her happy. I’ve suggested she find a new job, but she doesn’t know how to get out of sales work because she has no college degree.


When I moved to the coast, I envisioned a healthy, happy family who lived together in harmony.

Instead, I have been met with more turmoil, anger, and chaos.

Is that just life? Can people live together without fighting, arguing, or bickering? Without petty remarks?

My mom’s boyfriend is another source of stress and discomfort for me. He is always angry – once he broke a container filled with rice when everyone else was gone. He kicked my dog, Ribbon, because she barked at him. He has grabbed me by the wrists before. He likes to intimidate and yell at people..

I’ve never been sexually abused, but I am really uncomfortable around him because I feel like he might do something. The bathroom door doesn’t close all the way in the winter because it’s swollen with water, and every time I go to shower and the door isn’t completely shut, the thought is there.


My sister Riley is mostly a source or relaxation, and honestly if she ever read this, I just want her to know that I just needed to get this out – but, she will inadvertently guilt me much of the time about things like my eating habits, the way I do my make up, or how I will cheat on my math homework occasionally.

Just the other day she said something that has really affected me – that she would kill herself if I got her sick.

I have been so paranoid about making sure I don’t get her sick, and honestly I would feel so guilty if I did (she is sick right now, but she doesn’t have the same symptoms as me)

but the thought is there and so is the guilt.


Which brings me to Kendra – writing this feels unfair because she is a kid, but her influence on my life is so great. She is loud, dirty, and honestly making my life so hectic/insane.

I look forward to when she is at my dad’s every other weekend, simply for the peace and quiet, and being able to keep my room tidy for longer than 20 hours.

She’s so poorly behaved, I don’t know how she makes it through school — she screams, kicks, throws the most bizarre tantrums over things like banana’s, and there’s close to nothing that I can plausibly do about it.

She just doesn’t like me some days. She’ll blatantly say she hates me, that I’m the worst sister. It hurts, I just want to be that person in her life who she can be around without stress and anger surrounding her family.  but honestly I can’t be that person for her. I have a very poor temper myself.


God, today was rough. Besides being sick, Talon was there today – apparently he’s finally changing schools. I have mixed feelings about it..

I keep forgetting that I made out with Sam when he was here.  I also keep thinking about Cadence, in the weirdest moments. I actually asked my mom for a Hundred Grand bar — something that I had only eaten with Cadence at his house. Which is reminding me of mini M&M’s, watching Archer, and drinking homemade iced tea on rainy days.. Staying at his house late at night, driving home on foggy Lovers Lane in Visalia..

I wore a tshirt he gave me the other day – but I keep remembering that he and Abiel are dating.. It still urks me.


School sucks. My teachers suck. The system sucks. The people who go to my school suck.  Waking up early sucks. Being sick sucks. Forgetting coffee sucks.

Why is being happy, content, and calm so difficult?

Discomfort

Journal, no trust, Personal, Relationships

You led me on, told me you were interested, asked me on a date.
Now I feel awkward for having feelings for you,
Because you ignored me for a week.
Now you don’t “feel it” anymore.

What am I supposed to think? You got my hopes up.
You made me believe something was going to come out of it.
You said you were interested too.

Who could blame me for being a little upset by that?
By you.
The thing that gets me is that I was starting to really like you.

Now here I am, back where I started,
feeling like every dude who has walked the face of this planet,
Is human garbage.

Don’t pretend that you care about me in anyway,
Because you don’t.
Don’t pretend that you “understand where I’m coming from”,
Because if you did, you wouldn’t have ignored me.

I became the mistake that happened after you broke up,
Didn’t I?

God, I’m fucking mad.

Love Me

Journal, Personal, Relationships

You said you loved me.
You said that you still cared.

That was really selfish of you, ya know?
because now I have to live with the knowledge.

I have to see you and know that you still care about me,
I just want to move on with my life, Talon.

I don’t want to think about you.
Yet I dreamed about you last night.

Why have you done this to me?
Insisting on making yourself a part of my life still.

You’re hurting me.

This Is the Post

Journal, Personal, Relationships

I’m impulsive, and I have feelings as well. Those two things together do not work well, when they combine in a person shit tends to go down and messes are made, life gets fucked up.

But because I am impulsive and emotional, I do things like I am right now. I do things like confess shit.

And once I get it in my head that I want to do something emotional and impulsive, there is literally no stopping me, because both of those things take hold and just run with whatever it is. And then my logical side is like “Yo, girl, what the fuck are you doing? You need to chill tf out and stop right now because jesus christ you’re insane.” but I never stop, and it is really not a good thing.

I know how this is going to play out too – I’m going to finish writing this piece, then I’ll reread it about three times, post it, reread it (and find a typo, at which point I’ll go back in and fix it) and then I’ll contemplate if sending this to you is really the best idea. I’ll come to the conclusion that it’s not, but I’ll do it anyway. Because fuck it, life is short and we have to live it to it’s fullest while we still can. But then you’ll get the link, and I’ll be like oh fuck he’s read it, and I’ll wait about ten minutes, at which point I’ll start worrying because TEN MINUTES, and you might start typing. You might respond. But you might also not. At this point, there’s only speculation about what will happen. And that speculation is why I’ll send it.

So, you probably know this, because I wasn’t trying to hide it (I wanted to be fucking obvious, anyway). But I like you, not in the friend way. I like you in the kind of way that I would like to drink tea with you on cold days while reading our favorite books and cuddling with a fluffy cat kinda way. I like you in the kind of way that takes over a person’s mind, and I can’t think about much else. In the kind of way that I want you to know.

But I’m decently intelligent, and I know that the odds are not in my favor. I know that we have been sharing awkward glances, and that what happened before wasn’t ideal (I mean, you’ve seen my boobs and I came into the band room and realized you weren’t interested in me because well, it was just obvious). But because I am a hopeless romantic and I am overwhelmed with the intense need to express these feelings in a very obvious and cringe-worthy way, I figured why the hell not? (Actually, I have come up with about a million reasons to not do this, and just about one that I should, but I’m doing it anyway.)

I like you. I like your hair, your laugh, your awkward gestures during PE, I like that we both despise the same people in class, that you play in band, that you seem emotional and caring, that you’re not obnoxious and loud, I honestly just like you. I like that you smile in an innocent, yet knowing way. That you aren’t an asshole. I like that you are compassionate and won’t directly tell me to back off because you’re really just a nice person. I like you. A lot.

I know this is futile, that you’re either not over your ex or you just simply do not feel the same way, but I wanted to tell you. It’s going to make my life miserable, and I’ll avoid you 110% more than I already was, and I’ll act like I’m not watching you out of the corner of my eye, but I will be, and I’ll act like I didn’t see you when I pass you at school, or that I haven’t noticed our math classes are adjacent, but I will have noticed these things. I won’t be able to ignore them.

So yeah, I have feelings for you.

 

Loving Endlessly (To An Extent)

feminism, fuck you, Hope, Humanist, Journal, Love, Loving Life, Partner, Peace, Personal, Relationships

In the world, there is only one person you can truly count on – and that is yourself. While we – as human beings – do want to feel love, belonging, and predictability in the world; if you rely on someone for those things you can’t find true satisfaction and peace.

That’s why I’m looking to myself to find love, because I know it’s in me. That’s why I am accepting and loving myself for who I am right now, because the only person who will truly accept me 100% without judgement is myself.

Someone who doesn’t care enough about you, or who doesn’t see a future with you is not someone you would have lived a happy life with. Someone who uses you for affection and emotional stability is not a healthy partner, and you are better off without them. Someone who you disagree with on a constant basis is not going to make you happy in the long run, and you will be happier, healthier, and live a better life with out them in it.

If someone doesn’t love me, and we break up, then I see no loss.
If someone moves on and they didn’t want to be with me, there is no loss.
If you love someone and they do not love you back in the same way, there is no loss if they leave your life.

I’m better off alone, then with someone who doesn’t love me for everything that I am. I’ve learned this not just through breakups, but also with my father. He didn’t love me for who I was, and since he has been excluded from my life I have been happier and healthier. Toxic relationships never work out and will only drain you of the love you have. Save that love.

I love who I am, flaws and everything – because over attachment and stretch marks are me. Caring about things a little too passionately, that is me. I am embracing the fact that I overthink, that I am short, that I can be an awkward mess – because I don’t want to change anything about myself.

I do not need someone else to complete me or make me happy – I don’t need another person to fulfill my biological need of love and belonging. I love myself endlessly, and I belong to the world. I am happy this way.

Loving other people is also one of my things. I always love someone, whether it’s my dog, my sisters, or a love interest. I’m finding that it’s in my nature to love people and animals, it’s something that I as a person need to do to be happy. I care.

Such is Life

Future, Journal, Love, Personal, Relationships, Smiling

For someone who loves writing as much as myself, I sure have a hard time writing pieces that accurately color what my life is like. Most of what I write is done through cynicism and anger, but only because those are the things I don’t want my life to be.

Muse is my outlet, it is the cleansing stream in my life that allows me to function – it’s my way of communicating with myself, of telling someone how I feel minus the confrontation.

I’m not sure I have ever come right out and said this, but everything I write on here has a motive – almost every post I intend for a particular person to read. Sometimes I send what I write to them, sometimes I’ll send them a link a few months after writing it. Sometimes I let the posts sit, I let those emotions live on through the internets vast expanse, never to be read by the person who I want to read them. Such is life.

I know who I want to read this post. I know who it is that I want to see my snapchat stories, who I want to respond to my messages and send cute selfies to me – I know very well who it is. I know too well.

Yesterday I was questioning if I still was attracted to them, after a pretty awkward encounter I was left concerned and after that I received a message which told me they weren’t ready to move on from their ex. I’ve been rather melancholy since then.

Don’t get me wrong, I sincerely want them to fully recover from their break up and get over their ex — because that’s a really shitty place to be in. I don’t want to pretend that I understand how he feels, or what has gone on in their head, because that’s impractical of me. I also don’t want to pretend like their happiness is my only reason for wanting them to get over their ex. It’s definitely not my only reason, and it’s not my motive for writing this either.

I’m afraid I have actually started having feelings for him.

Before Sunday,  I just thought he had some really nice hair and a decent jawline – but now I cannot stop myself from becoming a complete imbecile in front of him. I forget basic hand-eye coordination and how to function as a fucking person. My laugh turns into this awkward snort, and I swear I look so unattractive when I like someone. It’s instinctual for me to glance over at him – because if it wasn’t, I sure as hell wouldn’t be doing it.

The timing here is absolute shit – I’m under the impression that he’s wanting to get over his ex and not have anything complicated right now, and that’s the exact opposite of what my feelings would do.  Feelings complicate everything – for as great as they are, they are equally as troublesome.

If I tell him how I feel, I’m pretty certain he would just become distressed by the knowledge. I know I would be. I shouldn’t say anything to him about this. I probably shouldn’t tell anyone. I should just stop mentioning him altogether, stop texting Staci about him, stop talking to Miro about him..

But he’s gorgeous, and funny, and almost exactly what I want in a partner – whether you asked me in kindergarten, five months ago, or today. He also reminds me of San Francisco Jacob. My feelings for him were dangerous – I lost all of my good judgment when I talked to him.

Since the current predicament means that he and I can’t get closer, I don’t want to have feelings for him at all. But I do have those feelings, and I don’t want to let them go.

The only pure thing in life is love, and I will cherish it every time it comes into my life. But just as love comes into our lives, it’s almost inevitable that it will be ripped from our tight grasp or fall apart on it’s own and just knowing that makes these feelings bittersweet.

Wondering that if I read this in the future, knowing what will happen (or what will have happened) if he will fizzle out of my mind and life in three weeks, or if I read this in 5, 6, or 7 months and we have just broken up, or if I remember the time I did something extremely stupid and sent him a link to this blog – and then I’ll sit back and wonder if he ever checked it after that. I’ll cry. Or maybe we end up having a short sexual fling and I’ll cringe thinking back on it.

And despite the possible tears, the physical pain in my chest when I think of some happy memory together, the potential break up, there’s a slim chance that we would work out. I don’t even know if he has feelings for me or if he’s just physically attracted to me , but that just emphasizes my point – because even knowing those detrimental things could happen, I want to try. I want to put myself out there and tell him how I feel.

I always come to the same conclusion when I am at this crossroad – do I tell them? Do I move on? What do I have to lose, when I could gain so much?

I always tell them how I feel.

God, I’m stupid and I will always be stupid for someone who shares my same morals and beliefs. It’s simply a bonus that he’s attractive – but it’s one I wouldn’t deny myself. He’s funny on top of it. Funny, attractive, intelligent, he’s even kind. I don’t want to pass this up, but I’m also scared that if I act on it I’ll decimate my chances of making anything work ever. I need to just wait a few days and see where life takes this.

I’m worried we won’t be compatible, though. After breaking up, I’ve been concerned that I’m just not compatible with a lot of people. What if I am too needy for him? What if I am too passionate and care too much for him? Talon thought he wanted that when we got together, and we ended up being perfectly wrong for each other.

But I would never compare Sam to Cadence, or Cadence to Talon, they have all been very different for me – none of them were similar. I can only expect that he would be different, and I sincerely hope that something will work out between us. He seems like a great person, someone I want to get to know very well.