Paint that shit gold.

2011-05-31T22:25:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I'm living under this bar of what my Life could be. Like I'm living at maybe a 3.5 on a scale of one to ten. Ironically, when I think about how I feel as far as confidence, spirituality, or overall inner peace I feel like I'm at an 8 or 9!

But like I told Morayo: it is so difficult for me to work toward something I can't see. It's easy for me to work a job because there's almost instant gratification. My co-workers Love me, my boss is always complimenting me and of course, I get a paycheck. So I always feel like I'm working toward some goal. Whether it's my particular shift or the week or the month. I have the goals set in my head or a manager will come to me with a problem and I solve it. That's easy.

But school is a whole 'nother beast. And it bothers me that I let school itself or my fear or my past experiences or whatever fucked up shit is going on in my head control how I feel or whether or not I succeed in school. Because I am fucking smart. No doubt about that. As smart or smarter than most of the girls I know who are done with B.A.s or going on to work on higher degrees. This. shit. boggles. MY. MIND!

Someone told me recently that school (college, in particular) isn't about being "smart" and has a lot more to do with being disciplined. And that is what I'm lacking. It happens every semester. I got for six weeks straight, do all the homework, all the reading, take all the quizzes, all the tests. Keep an A or B going for six weeks. Then midterms come or some big project that I just can't seem to focus on or discipline myself to do and bam. W here, W there. I sleep in, I don't go. I give up.

And like I said, I just don't like feeling like ANYTHING has something over me. I feel like school is in control of me and it shouldn't be that way. School should be exciting for me, a place I'd like to go. Where at the very least, I can meet new people and read something I've never read before. School should be. my. thing.

But I do this too. Much like the giving up mid-semester, I tell myself every summer that the next semester will be diff. I will take a full load of classes and I will never be late, never ditch, study, do all the readings, get organized, etc. But I'm getting to the point where I don't have much time before I start applying to transfer somewhere else. I am just so ready to get this shit done. I don't care what it takes.

People must be so annoyed. I feel like Cher from Clueless. Except instead of being a virgin who can't drive, I'm twenty-three with no degree.

Time to get real!

2011-05-08T01:40:00.000-07:00

One day I woke up and I just didn't feel like being sad anymore. I didn't feel like being mean or hurtful or angry or bitter. I woke up and said, "You know what? I don't feel so good today. But the whole world doesn't need to know."

And this is how I've been living my life for the past two months or so. I mean, I was feeling GREAT when I came home from Texas and even in that post from March but I can't even begin to describe how everyday has just gotten better and better. I know it sounds contrived or sarcastic but .. it really isn't.

I am just so happy and Blessed and relieved to be here. On Earth. Experiencing things that should feel so old and recycled and having everything feel exciting and brand new. I remember driving down the same street two or three summers ago in the city where my job is now never, ever once thinking that (hey!) my next job was nestled in that shopping center.

I still have a lot of growing to do. A little more discipline I need to exhibit. But for now, I am planning on summer. Tanning, and finding my center, reading, getting sand between my toes. No real expectations. I let all that shit go a long time ago.

I also know that I need to stop looking. Stop glancing over my shoulder, stop dissecting faces and shoulder blades and the tones of voices. I need to stop looking for it. Focus on other things, set new goals and really try to enjoy myself for the next three months. Exercise sounds good. Quitting smoking. Something to continue the shine of this little positive beam I've got in my heart right now.

I need to stop looking for it.
And everyone knows what it is.

2011-03-12T21:28:00.000-08:00

You know, I never thought I'd get to this place. I feel exactly how I felt three years ago. Before I ever met you or left for Texas or knew of Texas or any of that. But I don't feel like you never existed. Never, ever that. But I am happy and back into the swing of things and reading and watching all my favorite movies and listening to all my favorite songs. And the old stuff, too. Which is so great.

Again, I don't know why I stopped blogging. I don't know why I decided to blog tonight. This has always just been an outlet for me and had very little to do with who read it.

It is a very weird feeling when you wake up one morning and something just clicks. Or maybe God clicks. And this large, all consuming dark cloud filled with weight just .. lifts itself off of you. It's so beautiful and I am so grateful that I am finally here. And all in one piece.

Texas sucked. It was dark, rainy, lonely, scary and emotional. I think everything I was feeling on the outside just magnified itself in every way on the outside while I was there. But I had to leave. I needed to leave and be alone and go through all of that just to get to this beautiful place. I had to leave to come right back. And that's real.

Life is a mess. Bad shit happens and you lose people and things and feelings along the way but that doesn't make ANY of this less worth living. I mean, some things never, ever go away. And that's okay, too.

I am learning more and more that everything in life is perceptual. Most things are dependent entirely on how you look at them. If something happens to you and feel like you'll never get over it, you probably won't. I know this may seem like common sense to some (many?) of you but it took me soooo long to get here. After the cloud lifted, I started looking on the bright side of things.

I take note of the weather or a happy couple on the street. Or a new song, clean sheets, a text message. Anything. Your life is dependent on you and what you make of it. Each and every day.

And it's not about having things! Material or emotional. It's not about having cars or clothes or even Love or companionship. All of these are equally important in their own way but how you feel (inside and out), what you think, what you do and what you say are what's MOST important.

I'd always known that material things came and went but the tough lesson this time was that people do too. And your family and friends and significant other are all very defining parts of your life but if you don't even know who you are -- if you can't even define yourself, on your own -- trouble and pain are bound to follow.

Standing on my own two feet. What a blessing!

2010-04-15T15:35:00.000-07:00

"What I want to write is a perfect story, one that isn’t confined to the moment of making love, even if that is the perfect moment before all outside intrusion. I want to not fall back on this notion that the undisturbed bed is where all is well, is always well, never changes. That for a story to continue to dwell there, it isn’t out of allegiance to the perfection of sex, but out of fear - of going forth, of putting on one’s skirt, of approaching the day and everything there that may lead one to suffer. Outside, there’s hope — of all of this never ending. Inside, heaven spoils as fast as its realized."
- via melissa.tumblr.com

2010-04-12T23:43:00.000-07:00

I'm not dead.
Now where's summer?

2010-04-04T16:42:00.000-07:00

2010-03-22T19:33:00.000-07:00

2010-03-21T00:26:00.000-07:00

"Now the world can be an unfair place at times; but your lows will have their compliment of highs. And if anyone should cheat you, take advantage of or beat you: raise your head and wear your wounds with pride."

2010-03-19T22:34:00.001-07:00

Peaceandprose was just so dated. I think titles and screen names change the same way we do -- over time. I don't even use "screen names" anymore. Mostly just my name or abbreviations when some other Carmela has captured the crown before me.

Lovebalm is sort of a play on words. I love (lip) balm. Love balm/love bomb. And my friend Marcus said it sounded sexy.

Anyway, MacBook soon so posts will be on the rise.

Look out for that.

Anyone out there? Anybody?

2010-03-10T01:33:00.000-08:00

Goals are dreams with a deadline. Feeling 90%. Still can't kick some bad habits. Would be lying if I said I was trying. I was soooo caught up in how one person changed. Didn't realize how much I had. Or how much other people were the same. My valley boys still love me. Still got Mo. 90%. Even I can't believe it. Tired of Generation Me. Still looking for something outside myself. I know it's there. Mini meditation for better communication. Angels, spirits, whatever. My soul is intact. Life goes on. Channeling Stevie Nicks/Bob Dylan/and maybe a little Joss Stone. Tattered Leaves of Grass and all. Andddd I STILL love airplanes!

Dipped in glitter. I'll take it.

2010-03-08T21:32:00.000-08:00

WILDFOXXX♥

2010-02-20T00:24:00.000-08:00

I remember laying in the bed together. Watching how -- when your eyes were closed -- your eyelashes touched the tippy-tops of your cheeks. What a trip. I remember knowing. Rubbing your lower back while I laid on my belly. I remember. Closing my eyes and taking a deep, deep breath in. Because I knew deep, deep down that it was ending. My sugary sweet soda was fizzing out. I remember. I remember knowing we were done. Your little black hairs scattered all over my white sheets. Yikes.

Everyone reserves the right to feel. No matter what that feeling may be.

2010-02-18T14:40:00.001-08:00

To everything that is infinite. To everything that is yes.

2010-02-03T12:16:00.001-08:00

2010-01-28T05:04:00.001-08:00

I sat at my broken laptop for the past 4 hours reading almost three years of old conversations on AIM. I got lost in our story. I still think it's a good one. The more I read, the more I smiled. I was right back there. Fighting and crying and sacrificing. Loving.

Then I look up from the screen and check the time on my phone. It's almost 5 A.M. and it's not 2008. I turn twenty-two next month and I'm in this room all alone.

I don't want to try.
I don't want to.
I don't want to.

I miss that bubble and feeling so safe and invincible. I look around and I hate it here. Because I know you're up the street, having completely forgotten all the shit I managed to conjure up in .23 seconds. Because I know "there" won't be any better but at least I'll look like I'm trying.

If I had known then what I know now -- I would have done a lot of things different. But I couldn't have known. There was no way to know.

I know I can't love you anymore. It's sort of against the rules.

As my quiet tears hit my iPhone screen, all I can think about is how I don't want to love anyone.

I can't touch anyone.
I can't love anyone.
I can't be with anyone.

I may look back on this and laugh at myself for being so dramatic but this just. Hurts. Too. Much.

We were so young and innocent. And now everything is fucked up and old.

Who can I reach out to now?

2010-01-26T00:26:00.000-08:00

I feel sorry for a lot of people. But mostly I feel sorry for me. I'm sorry I let you down. It won't happen again.

2010-01-24T06:00:00.001-08:00

I don't know why I expected anything different. You seem to be right back where you started except everything is two years later.

You don't know what it means to feel or to love or to care. You've got amnesia. You can't remember a God damned thing. You talk down about love like you were never in it. You don't know shit about shit. You hide behind your car and all your clothes and your shoes and your girls and your Solo cups and music and films. You watch other people feel so you don't have to.

You think you've got it all figured out but you don't know shit. You look into my eyes and fucking lie, lie, lie. And you think I can't tell. You think I can't tell that you're broken. I broke you!

And I hate who you are but that's partially my fault too. Your "philosophy on life" sounds like something you'd find on the inside cover of a self-help book for motherless frat boys. Right up your alley. You're not Tom Cruise, this is not Vanilla Sky -- I promise. This is not lucid dreaming or 150 years later. This is five months and we're still texting.

Wake up.

That's not a philosophy. It's a fucking excuse. Because you're a child and you still haven't learned how to deal with your emotions. And to think I was getting down on myself for my coping strategies!

This is the next level of emotion. Not love or lust or saddness or diminished intrigue but disgust. You make me fucking sick. Your whole life is one big fucked up lie just so you won't have to say you're sorry.

Who lives like that? How can you live like that?

That was dream. This is real.

2010-01-24T04:36:00.000-08:00

There has got to be something better and more fulfilling than this.

2010-01-19T22:12:00.001-08:00

Nothing I do or say can stop people from dying, make my ex-boyfriend come back or fix this fucked up place I'm in.

No Twitter.
No Facebook.
No blogging.

New number then a new state and then I'll go from there.

Until next time ..

2010-01-19T00:17:00.000-08:00

I don't know much other than this constant feeling in the pit of my stomach reminding me of how much I want to leave. I want pine trees, friendship bracelets, humidity, sweet tea, Dylan, Whitman, Kerouac, fresh air, laced fingers (as always), jean cutoff shorts and a new beginning. The last semester and I'm ready to call your bluff. Prove me wrong. Or not.

2010-01-15T00:41:00.000-08:00

ZOO R VEVI IVZOOB DZMGVW DZH ULI FH GL YV SZKKB.

2010-01-13T13:59:00.000-08:00

We are ~~both~~ all so confused, aren't we?

2010-01-11T14:05:00.000-08:00

2010-01-10T23:16:00.000-08:00

It always seems like when I'm feeling my best the world just finds some sick, perverse way of shooting me down. I miss you so much. Especially on nights like these when I lose something else and my heart dips itself into the well of my never ending tears. It isn't fair. What happens to people and how more often than not we're only victims of the universe not masters. I don't know what to do in this bed alone. I don't know what to feel or who to talk to or how to act. I don't know what it is expected of me. I wish you'd make a sound, rustle some feathers. I miss the feel of your thumbs against my eyelashes as you wiped away my tears. I miss your fingertips, your fingers, your hands. Too often we get caught up in the thematic of things. The titles, the procedures, the roles. I will not apologize, I am not declaring weakness. I just miss you and I am going to allow myself to feel this way tonight.

I'd being lying if I said I never meant to hurt you. I wanted you dead. I wanted you to feel as lifeless as I did. And even now, as I have regained balance upon my swing -- something doesn't feel right. It is because I am forever changed. By your love and our demise and all the feelings that are (still) left over. I would never ask anyone to fill the hole and the void you created. You were perfectly gold. Creme brûlée. It seems near sin, even now, to try to pretend like a circle could fit in your sqaure. Like I would be okay of you attempted to do the same.

Truth be told -- at the risk of being completely bare to Nature and the Universe -- when I think of you I still see me next to you. You are never alone. Not in a dream at night, not in a daydream, not in a passing memory. You are right next to me and we are hand in hand. Your damp, cool hair sticking to your forehead.

I miss you. Please.

2009-12-31T23:11:00.000-08:00

I couldn't think of a better time to get some words out.

You are the first thing that comes to mind. As usual, as always. I am clearly at my most fucked up state of mind if this is the case (still) after almost 5 months. I am a mess and it's clear as crystal to see. I know where I'm going and where I want to be. Problem is, I don't know what's there other than more gray memories of you.

I need to get over it. I know I do. And most days it's not so bad, I can find something to laugh at or some boy to smile at but .. when I'm alone? Things are different. I'll leave it at that.

My mind is racing. Not only because I have a little over fourty-five minutes left in 2009 but also because I took 4 ibruprofren, am lacking sleep, hydration and maybe a good meal.

I only have one place in my mind and that place is the ultimate personification of you. Only I can say if I'm doing this on purpose.

(I'm not)

I will make it my own.

This might sound self-righteous but I must have something good (great, amazing, awesome, inspired) coming for me because I've been down for too. Damn. Long. I mean, I can't even remember what the fuck I was doing before August. It just hit me like a truck and that (this) has been my life for the past four-odd months.

I mean, how fucked up do you have to be to find a picture of yourself and say, "Oh that's cute!" Like maybe that's not even you in the photograph. Like it's your cousin or your sister or your friend.

I can't even remember who I was before August. When I try to think about it, everything gets jumbled and it turns into this "arguing, math test, 4th of July, Xbox, showers together, I hate you" black cloud.

And I see friends who have gone through what I have (and definitely worse shit that I am facing now) and they're happy. They're really, truly happy and fulfilled. Not impossible happy, might I mention. The kind of happy I used to be and could be again with a little more time.

I'm just tired of acting like this and I can't seem to stop myself. Can't seem to stop myself from listening to the same songs and reading the same things and looking at the same pictures and websites and text messages. It's sad.

I'm sad. In both regards.

Pathetic and genuinely sad. Like boo hoo, FML SAD.

But let me quote the random, funny-hat guy that trailed into my job just a few days after my great fall:

"Imagine how fucked up the world would be if everyone was happy all the time. Happiness doesn't last forever and nethier does saddness. Take one for the collective team. It's your moment to be sad and a moment is all it is."

I have yet to run into that guy again.

2009-12-30T10:17:00.000-08:00

Very few things have changed. Very, very few.

2009-12-27T00:12:00.000-08:00

Quality not quantity.

2009-12-08T19:27:00.000-08:00

This word has been on my mind and the roots of my eyelashes for the past three years.

2009-12-06T00:02:00.000-08:00

I don't know why things just suck so bad sometimes. I don't know why people live their whole lives and never amount to much. I don't why God plucked the most vivacious fruit from the Earth at just fifteen. I don't why somedays it seems we live, live, live to just lay down and die. I don't know why we fall into depression's trap door. I don't know why people leave and never come back. I don't know why holes are made inside of us that only certain people can fill. I don't know why we let people make these holes.

But I do know that our dreams are never too far off. And I know if things aren't going your way, they're probably going God's way. And I know He is in everything and that I have the ability to cast all of my deepest, darkest fears onto Him and He will make me strong. I know that killing yourself over one person is comical to God when He's given you so many other people to live for. I know you have wings. You can go anywhere, do anything -- be anyone you've ever wanted to be. He gave you allll the tools.

I know you're not alone. We can bear our crosses together. Boys, friends, jobs, clothes, money .. that all comes and goes. But family is forever. You and I and our Creator are forever.

You are still the most beautiful, strong, compassionate, enduring young woman I have ever met. You may not see it but I do. So trust me. And trust Him. This is nothing you can't handle.

People worry about never being the same. I know I do. But who said never being the same meant never being happy again? Not a fucking soul. Because that's not what that means.

2009-12-02T22:33:00.000-08:00

+ everything is going to the beat

2009-11-30T09:59:00.000-08:00

This is the last one for November and it's going to be good.

Three months and eleven days is not long, not long at all. One of the trickest things about a break up is discerning whether or not your new decisions are really your decisions or if you're just trying to prove some sort of sick point. Ethier way, it's too late. How things ended up this way I. Still. Have. No. Idea. I can't look at you without wanting to cry. Without wanting to grab you and jump with you into some nonexistant time portal back to last year. But this is all just wishful thinking and wishes just don't come true. We were never black and white. I was red and you were blue. And still I can't touch you without feeling like I'm burning you or fucking you up.

Things will nevaaa, evaa be the same. I take one step forward and two steps back. I have one door creaking closed and another is blasting wide open. Sort of like the pressure of the air someone must feel when they're about to jump out of a plane. My self-respect is a choice. The most adult thing I can bring myself to do.

Like I said around this same time last year -- you've got to be able to look your problems in the eye and really fucking wrestle with them. So I still have my same last name (that's Ms. Roussel to you) and I put my war paint on and I look in the mirror and I tell myself: it's okay to cry and it's okay to be sad but there's gotta be a line, mama. You've got to have limits. You've got to not only tell yourself "this isn't good, I shouldn't be doing this" but you've got to STOP doing what isn't good, too.

There is nothing short of God coming down off his starry Lazyboy that could change my mind. My self-respect is a choice. The bitterness is dissolving and I'm getting closer to that point where I can look back and just be happy. Be happy that I was happy. That God ever blessed me with something so awesome -- even if it didn't turn out how I wanted to in the end. But hey, such is life. And woe is me and blah, blah, blah.

Life isn't pretty pictures or literature or movies or a song on the radio. It's being honest and making decisions and learning how to put yourself back together after someone tears you apart.

x

2009-11-27T22:47:00.000-08:00

The older I get, the more I believe in the idea that there is a time and a place for everything under the Sun. This is all a big learning process. There comes a point in everyone's life when you start to really feel who you are. Not know or think but you can feel the deepest, most genuine parts of yourself coming into being. Do you run with it or do you suppress it? 'Cause being intellectual and being smart are two different things. Like saying you're going to do the right thing and actually doing it are.

We break glasses at holidays when we're younger. Everything is replaceable. We don't know the worth of things. We don't understand that time is money and money is work and working is hard. We don't worry about our mother's sighs as she sweeps up the broken glass. Those were her favorites. It's just a little oopsy and before you know it, we're back doing laps around the house with cousins and siblings.

Now I'm not saying we have to break things before we can know what they're worth. What I'm trying to communicate is the idea that there is a time and a place for ignorance. There is a time and a place for when we don't know what's going on and when we don't care what happens. There is a time and a place for those days when we feel lethargic and bitter. But how long is that supposed to last?

Taking accountability is hard. Being able to say, "I fucked up" is HARD. But it's not impossible to get out.

There are times to be naive and times to be disillusioned. There are times to be elated and "warm and fuzzy" and there are times when we reserve the right to shut the whole world out. And I want you to know that's okay.

I just hope (from the most firey parts of my heart) that you aren't denying yourself .. yourself. You deserve to be who are without feeling guilty or ashamed or embarrassed. 'Cause I still think you're wonderful.

But what do I know?

2009-11-24T21:39:00.001-08:00

Here I am again, exposing myself. Just when I think I've stripped myself down to the bone, I find another layer worth removing. I'm in between lost and so sure. I swing from branch to branch, justifying bad behaviors and saying things I don't mean. I hide notes from myself and can't finish a single song without changing the radio station. I can feel myself changing, yet again. I morph and bend. Fluidity is my second name. Notice how this sounds smiliar to idiot in the middle. I will not play into "the game". I'm already losing, have already lost. I don't need to hide how I feel or diminish experience. Have you ever looked behind someone's eyes? Not into them but behind. Words aren't words. They don't mean anything. The letters hold the meaning, I guess. Iceberg theory. 80%, 20% and it's such a fucking shame. We rely on the silliest things. Like how entitled we feel when we see the sun sprout up from under it's blue comforter. Like it's ours or something. The world is hollow. Up here, everything happens. This is the level of events. But it's down below (in the core), where the Earth gets it's speed. We are not masters or composers of love and luck. We only fall victim and prey to their promises and believe we are educated.

We lie.

2009-11-24T19:37:00.000-08:00

I never, ever had that. How could I have been so convolluted?

2009-11-22T23:22:00.000-08:00

I wish I could be the person I used to be. I wish I still had a reason to be good. I wish I recognized that I still do. I wish I didn't smoke and drink so much. I wish I wasn't out there. I wish I had someone to pull me back.

2009-11-16T13:53:00.000-08:00

2009-11-15T21:52:00.000-08:00

e f f o r t l e s s♥.

2009-11-02T23:46:00.000-08:00

So the blog has been lacking and I do apologize. I've been out every weekend for the past month and I believe last weekend was my tipping point.

I am searching for something. Sometimes it's something new, sometimes it's something more familiar. I take each day as they come and every feeling along with them. Some days I laugh and some days I cry. I run, run, run errands or pick away at details.

I've met so many new and interesting people. I've stepped out of some major comfort zones and really enjoyed myself in the process. As usual, I am growing and learning and soaking everything up.

It feels strange at times to walk around the same city you've lived in for so long and have it feel brand new. I've fallen backward and been pushed forward. I am still trying to get all my little ducks in a row but I am confident I will be there soon.

I am amazed by all my possibilities. I really, really am.

It's so strange how people move in and out of our lives. People I swore I'd never see again, I spend whole weekends with.

I am looking for positivity and sincerity and maybe a little sacrifice. My list hasn't changed. If I really think about it .. I want the same things for myself. The same things I've deserved and desired for so long.

I owe everything I have to God. I can't explain it any further than that. It's a feeling I just can't vocalize.

I haven't blogged because I feel like I have nothing important to say. A lot of things I want to blog about would just be a regurgitation of previous posts.

That being said, I hope you all are experiencing new things and soaking them up, as well. Keep working hard and moving forward. I'm right there with you -- I promise!

2009-10-25T22:23:00.000-07:00

“That love is reverence, and worship, and glory, and the upward glance. Not a bandage for dirty sores. But they don't know it. Those who speak of love most promiscuously are the ones who've never felt it. They make some sort of feeble stew out of sympathy, compassion, comtempt, and general indiference, and they call it love. Once you've felt what it means to love as you and I know it - the total passion for the total height - you are unable of anything else.”
- The Fountainhead

2009-10-23T14:09:00.000-07:00

I read all your old letters.

And I started to cry. Then an itty, bitty smile found it's way across my face. 'Cause I knew what you wrote was the truth -- even if the truth didn't last as long as I wanted it to.

I threw the box away today ..

2009-10-13T13:21:00.000-07:00

Do you think everyone has a soulmate?
I don't. I think certain individuals come and go, in and out of our lives for very precise, specific reasons. Each lending some wisdom, laughter or heartache. It is in the constant shifting of these relationships that we are forever changed. Only then does God gift us those bouncy, rubber soles we need to jump and leap towards our destinies.

2009-10-03T22:27:00.000-07:00

I don't waste time worrying about what other people think because I'm coming from the heart with everything I do. So when you whisper mean things and wish evil upon me -- I don't blink. That is your nature and this is mine.

2009-09-29T09:50:00.000-07:00

And they talk and they dance and they feel the wet grass under their feet. They look free, appear free -- act freely. The light peeks through her blonde hair. Everyone has a nickname because their real, given names are far too intimate. They share secrets but their secrets are lies -- they're hiding something. They spin freely, wildly, madly -- lacing fingers and arms and whispering prayers of eternity. The words themselves are even more intangible than their wishes. They lack communication and rely on the waxes and wanes of the moon for signs of decision.

We know who you are and we know how sad you've become. We're all spinning. Like fireflys tied to a string that hangs from some stagnant branch. We know they can't hear our whispers but we pray aloud anyway. For love, compassion, tenderness -- something above our spinning. Something that will cause us to slow down.

They burn but never bloom. The spinning never stops and the compassion never comes.

2009-09-22T21:39:00.000-07:00

I think it's time you found a new hobby.

Something that doesn't involve chasing some illusory holy grail of maturity, growth, or personal development.

Don't mind me; I still expect you to dream big.
That's all we can do.

(photo via yimmy's yayo)

2009-09-21T12:26:00.000-07:00

It's like I never existed at all. That's fine. Let me be a vapor; a ghost.
1. I liked that you were quiet at first but the only reason why you were quiet at the end was because you were sneaking around.

2. I trusted you at first but the only reason why I was so distrusting of you at the end was because I knew were doing untrustworthy things.

3. I am NOT insecure, I know that now. The only reason why you threw that card at me at the end was because you were doin' your lil' dirt on the side and you used my hurt feelings against me to make me look and feel crazy.

You can run, run, run but guess the fuck what? I do exist. And we existed together. And what you did was wrong. You can run away from things but you can't run away from yourself.

Even I know that ..

2009-09-19T13:43:00.000-07:00

I have made my decision,

and next semester; I will be Houston.
Do or die.

2009-09-17T20:30:00.000-07:00

(via yimmys yayo)

Moving to Texa$, gone get me a slabbbb (;

2009-09-16T11:23:00.000-07:00

I look at my life for what it is. Regardless of my mistakes, shortcomings, trip ups, etc. I'm here and I think I'm doing a lot better than I'd like to admit. Some nights I worry and I cry and I feel like somebody out there owes me the fucking truth. But I don't want your truth or hers or his. I want the truth. But I know what happened. I mean, it happened to me. In this way, I have received truth. I go over it time and time again but the story stays the same. I have the facts and I'm running with that.

Commit yourself to kind words, kinds acts and a life of compassion. Sometimes I weigh the benefits of trying to be a good person in a world with so much negativity. I've tossed these thoughts away and in doing so; I promise to remain myself. Loving, caring, down-to-earth, hard working -- vivacious. I am all of these things and a few cuts and bruises isn't going to change that.

You either rise or you fall. And falling for me means giving into all of this toxic shit around me. Giving into being bitter, giving into childish behaviors, giving into acts of revenge.

I'm growing and to be honest: I've been ahead of you for a very, very long time. I'm moving.

2009-09-13T00:09:00.000-07:00

more ME,
less you

I'm back, for real this time.

2009-09-11T09:49:00.000-07:00

You have become the darkest of all dream figures. Leading me down paths to nowhere. Abandoning me in places of ignorance and greed. Places where my light is not celeberated but merely a calling card to all those who lurk and scheme to manipulate my good nature. You are the source of nightmares, my cold sweats at night. You scare me. The darkest, darkest eyes. Empty, vain, ominous. I used to love those eyes. Now, having them fixed upon me maliciously in a dream, I hate them. And I run from them. Like those two, enormous, evasive eyes looking over Gatsby and Daisy -- you are the intruderer. You melt and mold into my deepest fears everytime. A slick, oozing puddle of liquid despair. You set the trap and I wake up defeated.

I have to remind myself time and time again that it was "just a dream", that you can't find me and deep down you're not that vindictive of a person to go out of your way to hurt me.

But it's too late an I'm already running.

Separation anxiety

2009-09-06T15:30:00.000-07:00

I realize now that I associate the deepest and most embarrassing type of shame with being alone. If you live alone, have no friends, no spouse, no family; you are a failure. Completely irrational when written yet totally rational in the confines of my brain.

I wear this shame everyday and everyday I wish I could escape it.

The Humanist model

2009-09-05T12:19:00.000-07:00

I, which is the subject of a setence -- or the individual (or the mind or the free will) -- is the center of all meaning and truth. Words mean what I say they mean, and truth is what I perceive as truth.

Romeo

2009-09-04T19:13:00.001-07:00

2009-09-04T15:28:00.001-07:00

You say a lot of things that don't matter.

Everyone I know

2009-09-03T14:07:00.001-07:00

has got a reason
to say:

put the past away
i wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend
you could
cut ties with all the lies that you've been livin' in

and
if you do not want to see me again
i would understand

Somedays

2009-09-03T13:28:00.000-07:00

I care but somedays I don't.

Today?

Not so much.

Have a beautiful weekend everyone!

I should be reading

2009-09-02T22:48:00.000-07:00

For one of my many, intense lit classes but I don't have the particular book I need so F it. Way to be on top of things, Carmela.

September is such a beautiful word. I cannot get this month of out of my head and it hasn't even started yet. I'm so sleepy, so tired of the heat and running around and just feeling like a zombie, hiding feelings -- pretending, really. I know things get better with time but you don't notice the effects of time until later on down the road.

I am focused, I will say that. But my mind does wander from time to time. And when it does, it wanders to a place of hurt. A place of regret, anger, and downright negativity. I hate you.

I hate you for lying. I hate you for manipulating me. I held on to every fucking word you said like a fool trying to catch raindrops. You're a phony. You're fake. You think you know what you're doing but you don't. You run around trying to act like an adult all while hiding that little tail between your legs.

You piss me off. I piss me off. I let you tie all those strings to me and soon I didn't move, I didn't peep unless you motioned me to do so. Who the fuck are you? Honestly. Who are you? What the fuck did you have over me that I felt so obliged to give everything I fucking had to you?

Who the fuck are you?

You're not real. You don't exist. You're a ghost, that's what you are. You float and float and float. You can't touch anything, grasp anything, feel anything. You're empty and hollow. I feel sorry for you.

I feel sorry for me. For having ever put so much effort into someone so empty.

I can't lie. I, myself am not a ghost. But my heart feels like one. Empty and hollow, transparent. Nevertheless, there is a small flame burning inside of me. Bright as ever, full of compassion and love and truth and beauty and a yearning to connect with others. Still. After all of this, I still want to live and know love and grow and read and write. And be myself. And learn how to keep myself for me.

It is a difficult, winding road full of rhetorical questions and tears and bruises and things I will remember for as long as I can remember them.

But the flame is there. Casting a deep, amber glow across all the things I've ever wanted for myself and all the things I want to achieve.

And that flame is faith. And it's mine :)

Who am I

2009-09-02T14:38:00.000-07:00

supposed to watch football with in the fall?

Sixteen weeks

2009-08-31T22:52:00.000-07:00

Seems like a long time but I know that it will fly by.

I am prepared.
I am smart and I am focused.

I'm going to do this.
All of it.
And finish it.

No funny business.
No fuckin' around.

You gotta get over it to get movin'.
You're golden, mama.

Don't let negativity get you down. I know someone is reading this. Male or female, eighteen or twenty-one. Black, white or something in between. DON'T LET THEM GET YOU DOWN. Stay focused and stay strong. Set the bar high and DON'T COMPROMISE. Compromising is what gets people into bad situations with bad people.

You don't ask a plumber to build you a new home. You contract engineers and electricians and carpenters. Don't settle, ask an expert.

Become an expert. Don't let 'em see you sweat, don't let 'em see you cry.

Always a lady.

Confidence is key. Be bold.
Smart > sexy.

Furthermore, real sexiness is effortless if you're smart.

You're dreams are worth it and so are you!
Happy fall, babies.

xx

A perfect couple's only in a dream

2009-08-31T22:09:00.000-07:00

Some days it ain't sunny

2009-08-30T23:16:00.000-07:00

But it ain't so hard, just breaks my heart ..

I miss the airport.

2009-08-30T13:27:00.000-07:00

Do I miss the stuffy planes and the dirty ACs? Or do I miss the packing and planning? Do I miss being in the sky, the on-air movies? Or do I just miss who was waiting for me when I landed?

You tell me.

Revolutionary road

2009-08-28T23:45:00.000-07:00

Nothing makes sense anymore. I dig through books and movie scripts looking for reasons to smile, to hope. It doesn't work. It's hard to slip back into reality when you realize what you thought was the truth was really a big, steaming pile of bullshit.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe there was some happiness at the bottom of that grungy bucket -- underneath that big, steaming pile of bullshit.

Because we did laugh and we did hold hands and we did what every other couple was doing and maybe a little more. And I remember even a few weeks ago, a few months ago, last year -- us laughing and going everywhere, "explording". But more than that I remember last night and the night before that and the night before that. And December. And feeling so trapped and distrusted and desperate. Crying over nothing over and over again. But it had to be something because I felt like shit. I just wasn't listening.

I wanted so badly for us to work, to work forever. How foolish and naive of me. My mom always told me when two people come together (whether in a friendship or a relationship) they either grow together or they grow apart. I remember so many times telling others that that was exactly what I wanted. To grow up with you. To grow with you, learn with you. It didn't seem like such a bad idea, you were best friend after all.

I remember going to school and reading and learning and finding connections between every character I met and you. 1984. But those are just books, and these lives I delved so deep into were (and still remain) fiction. They have lived their lives and met their ends all throughout a myriad of numbered pages. Real life isn't like that and you know it. We all do.

We aren't a series of books, at least not in my mind. We aren't encyclopedias. You can't pick up volume "L" and read about "life" and "love" and "light" and pretend that volume "W" with the word "war" doesn't exist. Because war exists and so does famine and desperation and infidelity and lying. And they rage and they bomb and they fight between these pages. Whether we open the volume or not.

They exist. We just don't confront them.

2009-08-28T20:40:00.000-07:00

"I was thinking how nothing lasts, and what a shame that is."
- B. Button

TU

2009-08-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

Things change.

And that's were the real beauty in life lies. I don't feel so behind anymore. I don't feel old or used up. I'm happy today. Proud, eager to move on and get to where it is I'd really like to be.

So thank you. Thank you for your use and abuse because all the anger I had pent up inside has channeled itself into a river of motivation.

I'm ready!

Summer's over.

2009-08-26T13:14:00.000-07:00

If you are searching for a reason to carry on, it is still around. Lingering beneath your saddness and uncertainty. Set goals and move forward. Make a list of what it is you really want out of life and get out there and make things happen for yourself. Signs are everywhere and God exists.

Probably now more than ever.

I know now.

2009-08-25T14:58:00.000-07:00

That romance doesn't exist. At least not in real life. That real, true undying love we read about and flock to films to get glimpses of doesn't exist. And I'm ashamed I ever thought anything different. Life is hard. I can't even look at myself in the mirror. Half the time because I don't even recognize myself anymore and the other half because I can see the shame behind my eyes. For playing into such an unrealistic fantasy. Where sacrifices actually meant something and nobody was selfish. Truth is, and I've said this all week -- this is a selfish ass world. Full of selfish people, selfish motives and selfish thoughts. I gave everything to you. Everything I had spiritually, physically, and emotionally.

And now you're not here.

I want to be brief but that's not an option. Not yet.

I've gotten used to sitting in the dark in my room and now, as I do, I think and I think and I think. I think about what happened and how I let you get away with so much shit.

I'm not going to hide how I feel. That's why my MySpace, Facebook, and Twitter are all public. I'm not going to change who I am. I'm not going to cling to alcohol or cigarettes or other young men to make me feel better. I'm going to me feel better and that's the end of it.

I'm going to write and be honest. Because that's who I am. I have nothing to hide. As ashamed as I am in myself, I have enough pride left to sit here and think and analyze and figure out how I am never going to let this happen again.

"Keeping it real" and being honest are two different things.

The truth is, nobody I know knows a goddamned thing about love. No one. We are all equally fucked when it comes to trying to be in relationship with someone. We run and we fight and we tug and we push. And for what?

For this? For a few months of happiness and then "The Fall" -- that deep, dark period that newspapers and journalists say takes double the time than the happy period did.

No thank you, I refuse. I don't want to do that.

I don't want to believe.

Ever again.
(Or at least not right now.)