Hi, long time no rant.
Well boy do I have one for you tonight. I hate people who cannot help themselves. We all have those moments when we need each other. But I’m a firm believer that after a certain while there is only so much others can do for you. Guess what I cannot help you. I’m fucking tired of helping you. I’m exhausted. It’s unfair. It’s selfish. this pity party you always want to throw is something I refuse to attend.
So you feel bad. Guess what I can make you feel even worse. When did it become my job to fix your problems. I don’t have the answer for everything. Do you think I sit a home hoping to get a text about your miserable life? No. Actually I could take a fucking break. Just stop. Stop pretending like your life is so awful and fix it.
Of course it would be easy for me to say this from a position of strength but believe me I have felt the same way. But I don’t complain, I’m not going to die. I don’t think that I want to hurt myself. AND if I have those thoughts minor or major I would look for help. PROFESSIONAL help. You need some fucking professional help so lord please quit quit look for help from me.
If I have to do this one more time I’m going to make things worst for the both of us. because when I have a problem I fix it.
More than I can say for you.
So my pathetic life has been consumed by my summer book. Last summer was experienced by the illustrious book The Book of Lost Things.
This summer within about 3 days I read through The Night Circus.
It was one of the those book that I am honestly upset had to end. I wish Marco and Celia could have just continued to play. Play continuously with no end.
The book has made me yearn much more that than though I wished October 31st 1901 would have never come to be.
Argh. Such a good book.
Sometimes. Well just lately I feel like I’m being subjected to an assumption that I’m clearly not an adult. Not that I’m much of an adult anyway but all the other adults around me cannot seem to realize this.
Now this isn’t a speech about how I hate being treated as a child, and how I’m so mature or grown up for my age. Because well that’s all untrue.
It’s more of a I’m sick of tried of my expectations in adults much older than me being shattered and tossed aside and most importantly blown out of the fucking water.
Listen I don’t expect much. But when adults act like children we have a problem.
Plans are being made to leave a never come back. Seriously. School may suck but home… Argh it’s the worst.
I feel like a fish out of water, and not just because my pond of expectations is constantly exploding.. But you know that’s not particularly helping.
Dear ____”____” ______
So I’m writing this on an evening that you’ve left, at least you won’t know exactly when I wrote this letter….gives the letter a sense of curiosity I think. Anyway I’m trying reading really hard to write clearly so you can actually read it….
I hope it’s working!
So I haven’t written a letter in a while so hope this works. You can add it to the collection you have. I didn’t really think this letter out, I don’t have much to say really. You’re super cool I guess
Don’t be too upset with any misspelling I have okay?
I really have no idea what to talk about.
A couple weeks or maybe days ago you feel sort of worthless sometimes. You should never feel that way, please don’t think like that. It may be cliche for me to be sayings this because I’m suppose to say things like that. But it’s true!!! And as for making decisions you need to remember to relax and ask yourself “what’s going to make ME happy?”
It’s alright to act selfishly.
You’re adorable when you attempt to behave. It’s a sort of reminder that you in fact to like me. Although I hope I’m not assuming this. That would make this really awkward. I enjoy it.
Here are somethings you may not have known about me:
Write Back! Pam.
P.S Let me know who you’ll be with on x/xx/xxxx so I know who you’ll be ditching that night to see me instead.
Lacey came from being abroad a couple days ago. And of course I am elated to have her back. She was gone for an entire semester. We worked around it though. Spoke whenever it was possible, kept each other up to date with whatever adventures, triumphs and hardships that haunted us. Then the night before she would return to American soil we talked about change.
And I asked her “Do you feel like you’ve changed?” She responded “maybe a little but probably my that much” it was reassuring to be honest. I mean because you hear about those who come back different, those who ‘found themselves’ abroad. We all talk about it in school and remark on how challenging coming back is. It’s not that we fear it. Different will always just be different.
Then of course all this conversation got me thinking. So semester has not been too great. Probably one of the worst I have ever had. Not to make excuses because I know it my fault. But regardless of all this, I think about how I get them. I understand those who ‘find themselves’ in unknown places. I understand that because for the first time in forever I have realized college was that for me.
Though my semester was terrible I always feel in full bloom. College did me well. To understand and embrace an identity I could not before. Regardless of how cliche that may be.. I love my friends, my peers, and my classmates. We are all twenty something’s and we get it. We may not be responsible, or prepared. We are naive and awkward but it works. Overly confident yet highly critical makes some sort of strange hodgepodge of my culture.
I have college to thank for that. I get it. I understand what find yourself means. It’s the realization rather than the fact. It’s the opposite really, I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or what sort of purpose I’m suppose to hold. But I realize who I am my strength, weakness, defaults, quirks, and abilities.
And I didn’t have to go abroad to figure that out.
It’s official this semester is FINALLY done. The end to this semester could not have come quicker. If my winter semester of my sophomore year was bad. This one definitely takes second place. Talk about a horrible semester.
I feel like I have was forced to change in so many aspects of my life. Things have been placed in perspective, there were goals I used to pursue that mean nothing to me. and when push came to shove it was clear what was important to me and what wasn’t.
Package Design chewed me. Ripped me apart. degraded me. pushed me to the brink of my sanity and a little over. It was not a class to take lightly. There were times that I doubted my design ability. Was I going to continue? Should I? am I even good enough. And i guess I took comfort in that I wasn’t the only one that felt that way.
I do not exaggerate when I say that there were moments where I sat in the lab with print after fucking print crying that no mater what I did they continued to come out shitty. If anything it was like torture. The emotional investment I have in my work would shock anyone.
Design this semester became my life. I reached that moment where regardless of my own health I would still pick design.. any day.
And consequently my balanced life started to tip in designs favor and I became to hate anything that pulled me away from it. At some point my job as an HR became a burden.. is a burden. For that reason alone I feel distaste towards it. It is an awful job. and not for me anymore. I cannot give what they want.. or rather I don’t want to. I would give up my lovely apartment in a heartbeat because it’s not worth it. and now it’s kind of up in the air…
My grades took a total shift downwards this semester and now I’m edging on acceptable. It’s like the more I pushed myself the less motivated I became. Somewhere in the middle of the semester it just all became shit.
But I have faith. As is my motto for this upcoming semester. I have faith. I am faithful that everything will work out. As is has set itself up to be.
Though my semester has been awful I am hopeful for what is to come. I mean I have so many opportunities coming up as one door closed three more have opened. Plus my best friend is back.
Let us have faith.
When did I stop feeling so much. Because I’m a this point now where I have no details of my life to share with anyone. Where everyone is living and I feel stuck and failing. & I think I miss that so I’m some how yearning for an affection that has too much death in it to bring back. But then Jesus it’s incredible how well a couple can reflect and mirror what you once were. From beginning to end, because there’s always a Chuck to a Blair, and a Shane to a Carmen… And I can’t seem to get away from that dynamic. I miss the excitement, I miss the living. It’s been so boring. So so so boring.
Here’s something to talk about:
A lot of the time I feel this sort of pressure, expectations placed on me to accomplish things I should be doing.
And a lot of time if feels like I’m faking it rather than facing it. Most of the time I wish I was much more laid back. Much more passive, less aggressive and more submissive.
It would be easier if I didn’t push towards more and just settle. Because settling isn’t wrong but a rather a step before greed.
I remember I used to sit in bed at night and tell myself. Okay tomorrow I will try to speak less. I will try to not stand out. I will try to let others take the lead. I will try and hold myself back.
Because people don’t like the unbalanced over powering nature of me. Right?
I mean to me it makes sense.
Maybe if I reigned myself back I would not have any pressure.
Things would be different… If I was different. To think otherwise would be naïve.
No but seriously. Sometimes I wish they would all just disappear. That way I wouldn’t have to do the disappearing for them, it’s like listen… If you just went away like you should I would not have to be sitting her scrubbing my brain of your existence. Just be gone.
I mean really. We’re not in high school anymore couldn’t you just grow the fuck out of it.
You’re an awful individual because you don’t even realize how ridiculous your selfish actions are.
And after all this time you would think that you would be able to read me like a book.
But if you haven’t figured it out yet.
I’m only quiet because I love listening to you. Listening not just to random words but your shuffles, mumbles, stutters, and blinks.
I’m only quiet because I bite my tongue to not break the fragility that surrounds us with an octave or a syllable more.
I’m only quiet because I would much rather keep the explanation of the explicit and, rather terrible desires dancing in my head at bay.
So if you must understand why my lips tighten and my jaw locks. It’s because around you there is no filter, no breaks to the running sentences and thoughts rushing to burst out, no end for complicated analysis and diagnostics about this and that and you.
I’m only quiet because I rather not say anything and keep at least words as a sign of defiance against the pull you draw from me. Cause I never want anything from you… Except well everything you have, and what’s left after that too.
But until then, no words. No thoughts. No listening. No caution. No desire.
I just recently finished ‘The Book of Lost Things’ by John Connolly and I must admit it has become one of my favorite books because it’s real.
At the end of the book, David finally reaches the Kings Castle in hope that the King would help him find his way home. That he would help him escape a twisted land and help him escape from the grips of the Crooked Man. In a final twist though we learn that the King is in fact just as evil as the Crooked man and together they pressure David into staying on this land as the new King. All he would have to do is give up his sibling in the process.
David could have it all. Riches, eternal happiness, and rule over the land as King if he would just say his brothers name to the Crooked man. Mutter the word and have it all. Never to return to the real world, David would never have to return to a world full of cruelty, misery, death, and war. The Crooked man could make it all go way. But in the end David never spoke his brothers name.
The Crooked Man says
"Let me tell you the truth of the world to which you so desperately want to return. It is a place of pain and suffering and grief…It will take others from you too, mark me. Those whom you care about—lovers, children—will fall by the wayside, and your love will not be enough to save them.Your health will fail you. You will become old and sick. You limbs will ache, your eyesight will fade, and your skin will grow lined and aged. There will be pains deep with that no doctor will be able to cure…Here you can be King..”
But still David makes a noble choice and the Crooked Man dies. David returns to his world and yet all that the Crooked Man warns David about comes true. David loses his father to time, loses his brother to war, his mother and step-mother to disease, loses his wife and baby to accident, and eventually begins to lose himself to the years.
And as a reader you understand something deeper than what any fairytale can explain. All these horrid events do not happen to David because of the Crooked Man. It happens to David because life is about turmoil. It’s painful and full of suffering. David chooses this because life: it is what it is. Rather than living in a blissful ignorance to it all, it is better to take life for what it hands out. It is better to live a hard life than to never have lived at all.
Summer’s almost over, just forget about me because real life is about to knock and shatter we don’t have. And then all that will remain a chilled distance. So I want to go knowing that you understand that. Because I’m done, it’s time to grow up, awaken and face the truth. Summer is over.
You think you know someone, you have them down as shallow, self-centered, ignorant tramp. And then they surprise you. It’s really my fault though because honestly I know nothing about this girl. Nothing. So I am to blame for making accusations. But like I said I don’t know this girl so I making such judgements in my head have not, probably will not, ever amazing me. It’s just interesting is all.
That’s not to say that there are not people who can exceed your expectations. I’m not talking about the people you meet for about 13 minutes, I’m referring to those you’ve known for a life time. And regardless of if you agree with this or not we have come to judge, and accept their mannerism, their behaviors. You have agreed to who this person is and have committed to whatever with them.
and then they prove you wrong. out of the blue, they surprise you. Act so far out of character that you’re left in shock. Only to rethink, re-evaluate exactly who is this person? One time is fine, twice maybe, three okay. But what happens when time has linked you to a person you don’t recognize Someone you feel like you’re just attached by history. Nothing but the past.
There is consolation with a thought like that. Just a decision on what to do.
But on a serious note, I cried at the doctors today…
It’s just really sad. They told me things could be worse but that doesn’t make me feel any better you know?
Especially when it’s something you can’t help.
My mother thinks I’m over exaggerating like usual because there is no guarantee my condition is permanent… But like I said it doesn’t make this feeling any better.
I’m too young for kids but its really sad knowing that in the future there’s a possibility that’s not even an option for me anymore.
That’s really sad.
Per Anon request we’re gonna try the music mix once more…
Here are the songs I’ll be listening to while writing this:
We’re just in a weird moment aren’t we? What’s going on. I feel like I’m going crazy. I sat in bed last night with the inability to sleep. It’s moments like this that make us grow old. Not because a star is dead, not because the innocent receive no justice, and not because it just seems like we’re spiraling down into our own diasater. Even though all those reason seem horrible, we grow old because at the age of 11 and 12 there are children who are witnessing death, misery, corruption, and evil.
At my age I suppose it is socially excepted for me to have experience death, realize the wrong in the world but when I was 12 it was the least of my worries. And if today it’s 11 and tomorrow it’s 10, and then 8 year old kids have to be faced with the reality of pain. Have to grow up in a world that will only cater to you, IF you draw correctly in the genetic pool.
Because you better be white, you better be a male, and most importantly you must be straight.
Cause to be honest, I fear bringing a child to this world who will not be those things.
As humans we are the pinnacle of perfection, but how fucked up are we that we spawn hate. I don’t fear a lot of things in life, I do not fear rejection for I have found acceptance in myself, I do not fear loneliness for I have found peace in myself, I do not fear becoming losing for I have found prizes in myself.
But I do, truly fear hate, and only because I have found hate in me as well. And I understand how capable of an emotion that can me. Hate directed at another can be a motivation without a filter. If not even I could keep from doing despicable behavior to others whose not to say that someone is not holding back to do the tenfold towards me?
How tragic is hate, especially when it seems to leaving my glass half empty.