January 2008 - Posts

  • To a soldier I once knew


    He was nothing to me

    If only an object of disdain



    But gentle too

    Loving and lying oozed

    Like bloodied battle wounds

    Lost and longing for something unknown

    Overt Camouflage among verticals among verticals

    Very strange indeed

    He spoke of Lions, Liaisons

    Was bitter and cynical

    dishonored, mocked, Violating

    Yet laughing all the time

    Barriers extending beyond language

    Still I never cared to ask

    Why did he hurt so badly?

    I guess it doesn’t matter now

    I’m sorry too

    Uzi Submachine Gun

    If peace is what you’re after

    At last I hope you’ll rest


  • So I haven’t really had any time to write but…

    I wrote this for my fiction writing class, it’s supposed to be short poetry prose.

    She wanted to believe that everything would be ok. But she also saw no reason to stop; crying felt so good. She wished she could be strong- be stable, unyielding. But what does that even mean? Why is society so confused about truth? Why is it everything that’s so mortally unique is viewed as weak? Like we’re all supposed to be g-ds; stern and unaffected. Whatever. This hurt. And she couldn’t go to lunch with her friends because she couldn’t show her raw and reddened wet cheeks. So instead she walked, walked in the blistering cold, hands drying and freezing further in each moment and tears dripping tenaciously. Until she found a gentle concrete bench under a gentle wooden tree- right out of the secret garden- right out of childhood- and she remembered life is just a series of symbols ringing true in all these individually perceived clichés.

  • I will totally right a legit post 2morrow

    Been busy with school, I'm a little ill but still; nothing but good news. My ***-list has completely reoriented itself yet I’m pretty darn chipper. My classes are great, I’m getting my work done, I have some really amazing friends… It’s cool. I still feel misunderstood but at this point I’m ok with that. I either A. deserve it or B. deserve better. It just feels like I’ve said everything I needed to say and heard everything I needed to hear. I tried really hard to stand up for myself, to take care of myself, without reaching into the cookie jar of spite. I almost got there. So close. O well, at least my malice is entertaining and well-decorated in prose poetry. I still maintain that I more often portrayed borderline humiliating honesty than I did unfair bitchery, but who am I to judge? Still whatever I contributed to the circumstances at this point seem to be working out in my favor. Because whether I am universally disliked, disregarded, or the like- I don’t really give a ***. I am content with the results from my pursuit of balanced self-sufficiency and philia. I will continue to try and stay open and honest but for now I am a resolved entity floating merrily along… la la la la la


    P.S. I cried yesterday and it felt soooooooooo good. Crying is so under-rated. Why are tears so scary to people? They’re so pretty. I know that sounds really weird- but body language is such a perfect depiction of sincerity. Words twist and embellish what only natural expression can communicate with purity. Weakness; Human weakness. It felt so good when my body acknowledged my own emotional vulnerability and bio-chemically reacted. I didn’t feel guilty, or lost or ashamed… I agreed with my body that the tears were justified and accepted the hurt knowing that tomorrow I would feel better. I was right. Today everything’s A ok.

  • I hope I don’t get shot for saying this


    I disagree strongly with Christianity. Well, all devout religious communities for the most part however I am choosing to pick on Christianity specifically. I believe the beauty and benefit of religion lies in the unique and personal connections and convictions. Established rules and matter of fact orders seem nonsensical and really, what’s the point?  Why put unnecessary and burdensome constraints on the only life that we’re conscious of? I find Christianity to be the most misleading simply because it gives a human figure the G-dly power of immortality (Jesus Christ). I think it best not to rely on the idea of a second coming or any sort of endlessness. The odds really aren’t that convincing so my advice is to concentrate on how you can live the most fulfilling life in the world you are in now. The one that tells you, you got about 75-85 years.  Also, I think it’s counterproductive to answer the question of existential purpose with the promise of redemption in the afterlife. Selflessness is promoted through the promise of heaven. Doesn’t seeking compensation go against the very nature of selflessness?

    The more definitively a certain faith answers the mysterious questions of existence, the more delusional the religion. It can’t be healthy to be convinced of any one explanation for existence when clearly no one knows for sure. Or rather, many people claim to but the reasoning of Osama Ben Laden, Pope Benedict, and Rabbi Menachem Mendel Shneersohn seem somewhat contradictory. Remember, we are born into our religions, we only believe what we believe through way of teaching. Every Perception and interpretation is given and received by humans; ones as clueless and imperfect as we.

    On the other hand how can it be healthy to be sure that consciousness is insignificant and accidental? I think it equally deceptive to believe that every aspect of nature is comprehensible. There must be some roadblocks in our mind preventing us from knowing the “whole truth.” We are just animals, granted we’re smarter than most, but we are just a product of something bigger, something grand, something that we cannot rule out as mysterious. Faith in the unknown, submitting to the idea of a dimension we only see glimpses of in aura is a way to live fully in the appreciation of everything life has to offer. But it is impossible to be sure so why do we keep trying?

    I don’t see why people have to be so narrow-minded. I’m not denouncing the idea of G-d at all. I’m only saying that what makes faith truly challenging and therefore gratifying- is that it is and always will be- blind. That means accepting that one doesn’t know for sure and that one chooses to live up to particular standards only because they personally believe it is the best way for them to spend their lifetime. All these religious records that claim certainty are kept by humans, humans who each contain personal biases and altered perceptions. Why can’t people see Moses, if he existed at all, was just a guy who held up two stone tablets and said “Hey guys, look what G-d gave me.” That doesn’t mean G-d actually did. How much can you really trust another human being? Especially one you never met. It is the nature of man to want to be certain- to want to be immortal- No one is above intentional deception while in the act of self-preservation.

    And yes many, many rules and regulations promote hygiene, foster a sense of community, tradition, purpose, mental and physical health. All these things lead to a sense of fulfillment and inner peace. All I’m insisting is that you develop a healthy skepticism. Question what you’re told for the purpose of leading a true and fulfilling life. Societies, religion, social constructs and standards are all created by other humans trying to make sense of existence. We are all creatures and therefore no one knows the best way to live, the best way to love being alive, the best way to feel significant, and the best way to contribute… We just all fashion something from the merge of values imposed and perceived. In a lot of ways we are just functions; different solutions from different variables. There is no right direction; only the direction we are programmed to take. At some point we have the opportunity and awareness to program ourselves and follow a new pattern if we choose to. Just think about it.

    I read that conversation is believed to serve the same purpose for humans as grooming one another does for monkeys. To me this says that our imposed societal practices deemed essential are only complex manifestations of our innate animal instincts. The pursuit of knowledge is nothing better or worse than self sustainment. It’s ok- it shouldn’t have to be. It’s ok to do the things you love simply because you love them and want to enjoy being alive and not because they serve some deeper meaningful and righteous purpose.  Let’s exposes the bullshit as bullshit and accept the challenge of taking care of ourselves. As far as I know, we only live once. And to me this means I need a healthy dose of mind numbing selfish pleasure, physical health, sense of accomplishment through school work and societal contribution, and oh my favorite- love.

    Here’s my own personal plug, caring about others and being cared about is my favorite thing that life has to offer. It’s not everything, no one thing is, but it just feels so damn good. I do leave myself a bit vulnerable in my constant emotional involvement and attachment. But when hurt, I do bounce back eventually and I do learn from my mistakes. Despite the inevitable heartache of rejection and abandonment I wouldn’t trade friendships for anything in this world. To know someone and love someone so intimately compensates for the existential emptiness I believe is universal.  Genuinely caring, whether the act is self-serving or not, fills me with what can only be described as a natural high.


  • I go to sleep happy tonight


  • Nothing matters when all you hear is music


    There’s no emptiness, it's so directly stimulating I can’t feel anything but the passion exerted in the intricacies of musical sound. Mmm… I like it. It’s the perfect numb: No thoughts, no doubts, no questions, no inhibitions-Just heightened, guilt free, live in the moment pleasure. Nothing matters when all you can hear is music. I love it.


    P.S. Classes start tomorrow, wish me luck. I don't want to *** up again.


  • I’m back at school

    I feel so numb. Like I just want to do my work… I wish I could be enthusiastic- I will be soon. But for now I’m just scared; scared to *** up again and scared of how I’ll handle this abyss of tension that I spun. I’m human, I make mistakes and there is no doubt in my mind I will find myself in the discomfort of paying for them. I hope I’ll be ok. I think I will. I do have my own agenda and I think I’m strong enough now to really truly not care what others think of me… I sort of deserve the back lash of this sticky situation. I know that; I’m just scared it will be hard to deal with. I don’t blame or hate myself for the mistakes I’ve made; I know they were just externalizations of an internal battle. But I don’t expect any sort of compassion to be shown, especially not in here- in this rigid and competitive environment. But maybe I’m being too pessimistic. Maybe people can see that I’m just a girl who takes action hoping to feel at ease, just like everybody else. Sometimes I make mistakes and cause pain. And sometimes I pay the price. I just hope that if I do find my character under scrutiny that I can handle it without taking it personally. I hope I can remember that anything toxic thrown in my direction is a result of somebody else’s mistaken way of feeling at ease. It doesn’t matter- no matter what I know I’m good inside. I care. I know. 


    Wow, I haven’t written in a while and I feel naked when there is so much to write about so many new notes from the many new realizations. I didn’t make time when I found myself in an overwhelming state of bliss with the company of my true and beautiful friends on my birthday. The big one eight mother fuckers. I hope to finish articulating my ideas soon before classes start and I find myself too preoccupied for introspection. Stay tuned, ok? Worry about me if I’m not writing. I need this outlet to keep me sane or rather too stay in my own unique and uplifting adaptation of insanity.


  • In This weather


    I want to freeze with you

    But I don’t

    I just want to feel like you

    But I don’t

    Cold white snow

    Naked throat

    Nothing better, nothing worse

    I know

    The Bliss

     The Numbness

    I love it too

    Just not the sickness

    And I’ll never know

    The full meaning of this sigh

    Whether it's my aching heart

    Or jealous eye

    I’m just afraid

    I wish you would come inside

    But you won’t

    I know

    And if you change your mind

    I’m here


    I hope

  • O lord… I really hope I can make money off my neurosis, otherwise I am so ****ed…


    O Jeez. If I don’t find success in some creative field, I am going to end up poor and friendless.


    See, you would think with all my ranting that I’m a very bitter and angry person; but I’m not. In fact, quite the opposite, I’m pretty happy-go-lucky.  No doubt in part to modern pharmacology. ( P.S. Thanks guys!)


    The truth of the matter is that I’m just a hopeless neurotic. It’s cool- I enjoy contemplating every detail thrown into my version of life. Well, not every detail, it has been somewhat of a struggle to stop my brain from over-analyzing, but I’m getting better. Anyway now that I don’t have a drug addiction, a crack head obsession with getting into college, and/or hunger pangs to suppress… my life feels... kinda empty. So what do I do now that my brain is unoccupied by self destruction? I think.


    Thinking use to be my greatest vice. I use to let my own mind inhibit my self-esteem through paranoia or other means of feeling shitty. But now I have trained my thinking to be virtuous; I use it to save me from the anguish and discomfort I believe every human is predisposed to. Now I contemplate everything I enjoy contemplating or until I satisfy myself with some inspired perspective.  


    And I write/draw simply because if I didn’t I wouldn’t have an excuse to contemplate. It really is as simple as that. Without my creative outlets, I would be just another crazy neurotic with obsessive thoughts. I can either choose to honor my analytical mind as a gift or reject it as a curse.  And let’s face it, the methods I’ve devised for rejecting my psyche do not say good things for the future. I’m an only left to conclude that I am my neurosis, resent it and I am only resenting myself.


    But still being myself is not enough to sustain me in this reality, not even in my own. My sincere hope is that I possess the talent to really inspire someone and the perseverance to actually make a living.


    P.S. I’m not going to finish my Essay tonight, soon though. It covers this topic and I’m really excited about it. But now, I gots to go to sleep- I have a plane to catch.


  • Revelation of the day


    I forget the lessons of a rehabilitated teenage delinquent are a little bit foreign to people. Most people just lead the quiet lives I was supposed to and don’t really have to face more trauma than ones inflicted by the grape-vine.

    I swear I’m not trying to sound pretentious. It’s just all that stuff; my past low-life behavior is really as simple as I’m making it out to be. Everyone who is now a homeless crack head was once a little kid with a mom/dad and decided to pick up a crack rock knowing it was wrong. (Of course there are a few exceptions) Yes, I was sheltered, yes the people I was hanging with came from homes much more shattered and broken. But still, they knew how to be good in their circumstances and they knew how to be bad- they made their choices too. They just didn’t have to look as hard as I did to stumble upon all this glorified self destructive bullshit. It took work for me to find what lay right outside their door.

    But I realized I say things so matter-of-factly, like the lessons I’ve learned and experiences I’ve had are like those of the commons. But they’re not.  I’ve had a lot of practice talking about sex, drugs, and hidden motives in the most uncomfortable settings (I.E. in front of an audience with my parents). I express past Ideas, experiences, realizations and conclusions without their alleged drama and it weirds some people out. Because I say it easily, I often expect it to be easy to hear. But it’s not, not everyone is comfortable and/or has the vocabulary to dissect and confront realities that are still so foreign to them.


    P.S. I’m going to finish my thingy on Leonardo De Vinci tomorrow and Friday I’m home sweet home. Yay!!!!!


  • When I’m bored/lonely I write sad poems about existence. Enjoy.



    The Simple truth (Inspired by Jose Ortega y Gasset)


    Knowledge keeps us company in this long and drawn out drama

    Who could regard existence but with tremors from the trauma?

    Inside there is soft emptiness, slow note by note vibrations

    Grasped firmly by sweet stimuli, distractions through sensations


    And every soul and aching heart lives soundly in illusions

    In balanced vessels on the shores, at rest with no intrusions

    Light breezes circle in and out, provoking new direction

    Waters stir by unannounced soon filter through detection


    Like soldiers we march proudly on so faithful in our training

    It’s all the same in narrow view; when shining or when raining

    Until the tender kiss of death, time keeps on not to wallow

    We’re told we should feel potency, yet all we feel is hollow


    Nothing surged like nothingness, a paradox so bitter

    And what was gold was overlooked in foresight did not glitter

    We wonder next if fate’s so bleak; how can it be idealized?

    What is betrayal if not a covered lie too late when realized?


    While Inquiry quakes ignorance we struggle with engagement

     Muscles doubt the memory of our previous arrangement

    Enamel wears tenaciously and the paint begins to chip

    Yet the violinist still plays on aboard the sinking ship


    In tragic ruthless glance is our search for which to cling

    The longer we halt destiny the more severe the sting

    A question of salvation now devoid a programmed path

    Master of the rising tide or victim to its wrath


    Heroic is this voyage, in innocence set sail

    Those trampled by awareness hale from fallacies too frail

    The knowledge we call refuge is unique to each his own

    But the hunt is what sustains us in the moments left alone


  • Long, perhaps boring, but possibly relevant. It’s been in the works a while now…


    So, I’ve come to this realization about confrontation. People don’t like it. It makes people uncomfortable. O…oops.

    Well then. Unfortunately I’ve decided to be the grand freakn’ mascot for confrontation. I don’t know why; I’m missing a filter or something… I don’t know if other people feel like this, but I assume some must. I live in kind of disconnect; a limbo or something that protects me from my past social anxieties. To be honest I think its part training (honesty comes from awareness, a skill I honed in rehabilitation) and of course part medication.  Thank you; Pharmaceuticals.

    Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember I actually exist in a society and have to worry about how people will relate to me. I do try to practice tact, but more so I try to make it a point to be honest and maintain awareness through active presentation. This results in my “I don’t know when to shut the *** up” manner and I’m very out of practice when it comes to thinking before I speak. Thoughts = words almost immediately. Not much of a filter. And if I don’t articulate myself in speech or in writing then thoughts= overwhelming introspection which = anxiety.

    I guess I’m just neurotic. I have to spend so much time making sure I don’t suffocate in my internal world that I often don’t hesitate to externalize it. I guess not everyone has practice doing that and I can remember a time when I was afraid to be the bearer of verbalized truth. I still am in certain respects. But really, who cares? Why is so hard to admit that we’re wrong, we’re flawed, we’re sorry, we were unsuccessful, we’ve acted pathetically… Not to say that hearing or admitting those things is easy or pleasurable at all. But words no longer contain their power when they’re not being hushed and treated as though they are contraband. The Truth exists whether we say it or not. The only difference is when articulated, we have the opportunity to learn, to be challenged, to gain an outsiders perspective or to study and analyze an outsiders reaction.

     And yes manners exist and a conversation does have a specific time and place of suitability. But the way I see it, voicing our thoughts and feelings makes the fear of being exposed vanish. I lived so much of adolescence in that very fear. I didn’t want anyone to know that I had no idea what the *** I was doing. I was winging it- still am. Now you know.

     I know, the truth can be hurtful and we don’t want to offend anyone. But personally, I take much more offence when someone ignores me or yes’s me to death.  I know sometimes it’s about fear and not necessarily condescension, but if I’m taking the risk of being honest can you at least show a little recognition. Being disregarded hurts more than any verbalized truth because it’s sheer abandonment; I have presented my feeble human identity in spite of judgment, and you will not to the same. I’m naked and you are fully clothed.

    Fear of confrontation is fear of abandonment; fear of being left helpless and vulnerable. So instead of risk this heartache we maintain our power and leave those around us vulnerable. Do you see what I’m getting at?

    Withholding ones feelings on the matter is compromising oneself in fear of getting screwed over. And though this can take the form of people pleasing, generally associated with kindness, it is completely self-serving. Its cowardice or its apathy; for whatever reason, this hypothetical person won’t stand up for themselves so they become a reflex of those around them. It can seem strong, it often seems selfless, because a person is not acting deliberately on their own needs. But it’s not; it’s someone who is trying to buy acceptance by resisting conflict. And while the rest of us find the strength within ourselves to go after our emotional needs, they make us feel inferior by letting us believe that they have mastered them. But rest assured, we all have them just some of us have found and developed emotional suppressants.  It’s not selfish to voice your concerns, your fears, your thoughts and feelings.  It’s hard, it means admitting you are vulnerable.

    There’s a balance mind you, I struggle to keep myself in check. I do at times have shady intentions and demand attention out of greed. But I do try to speak out of genuine care knowing my peers may not relate or might suspect ulterior motives. I believe that the risk of ringing false and of being judged as incompetent is worth the practice. We need to face the reality of our true powerlessness and learn to submit ourselves for ourselves, and not because it’s easier to be at the mercy of an audience. It’s something I need to manage. I can get caught up in believing I need to be entertaining to be whole person and I thus submit my powers others. Sometimes I pull back in fear of failure as I think of relying on my own.  This is abandonment of self.

    But there will be times when you will be genuinely true to yourself.  You will be absolutely naked in your sincerity without the armor of spite, condescension, and sometimes even humor. You will appear bare, harmless, and weak silently praying for the compassion that you will not be shown. You will be abandoned and it will burn. That is the difference between those who confront earnestly and those who do not. One risks abandonment while the other does the abandoning. One is brave while the other is cowardly. One believes that this truth it is worth the risk of humiliation, while the other either does not, or is not brave enough to return that risk. In my experience, when I am true to myself, under my breath I am hoping to be accepted despite my honesty and desire to express it. When I am not, it’s either because I don’t care or I don’t trust that I will.

    It all goes back to power. If you find yourself in uncomfortable situation and withdrawing from confrontation, you illuminate any chance of lifting the tension. That’s not fair to anyone- especially not you. Your friend may feel the distance and show you their anguish in all its pathos and frailty and you do not reaffirm their faith in you to care. They come to you in surrender and so you appear the victor. But you know what? *** that. Because there is so much more power in assertion of self.

    True, words are often used as cunning forms of manipulation; in fact, it’s rare to see them used otherwise. But we can easily say the same thing for silence.  Both tactics can be used to hurt others and/or to hide our own fragility. Genuine sincerity takes real strength and bravery. To say “Yes I care” knowing the feelings may not be reciprocated is really really hard. To say “No I don’t” is so selfless in its authenticity as you are bearing the discomfort of causing immediate pain to condense the journey to its inevitability. “I care and I know you don’t” is transparent in its blatant manipulation. And To say “*** off” Is abrasive self-defense or just plain cruel.

    But we’re getting closer. Past the desire for spite and to convey the internal pain, comes honesty in the form of clever/creative manipulation. I don’t know that it’s ever truly possible to distinguish between this subtle control and sincerity. I still believe words cannot express totality, especially because everything seems to look more impressive on paper. I guess non-expressed truth is much messier; it’s a concoction of self-centered denials, and raw, uncomfortable emotion. And once converted and articulated it becomes removed, traceable and somehow normalized. Feelings aren’t organized in their true presence and are often accompanied by ever changing and opposing perceptions.  But silence, though understandable through the human inclination toward self-preservation, is abandonment. It is saying without having the decency to say “I’m not going to bother, so deal with this situation on your on your own.”

    The power in sincerity is equivalent to the power in any form of achievement. It takes work to figure out and articulate how exactly you feel. But once you know, it’s really a whole different ball game. In fact you’re not playing a game anymore, you’re being real, and to rise above childish antics- that feels powerful.  You have lifted the burden of uncertainty and now have the power to eloquently express the sincere truth.

    None of this is easy in practice. It’s automatic to conceal weakness when we express ourselves. I’m certainly guilty of it. And I have a lot of practice going beyond transparent spite into creative forms of manipulation. But past creative manipulation- there is sincere truth. It has to be fought for and found and when the anguish is very present, we may not have the strength to execute our search. And once found for the moment, we have to be responsible in our expression and be careful not to cause further regret. The truth has to be delivered with caution if we are hoping for any kind of salvation.

    Sounds manipulative, doesn’t it? It is. But everyone has a different understanding and a different point of view. Intentions will not come across with accuracy to every personality.

    Everyone tends to take statements/ non-statements as personal attacks first and for-most. In time or with practice we can learn to weed out the constructive criticism and/or ulterior motives. I find that girls tend to turn the discomfort inward and see it as a true testament to their innate sense of worthlessness. Boys tend to turn the discomfort outward and see it as a true testament to their peer’s worthlessness. Hardly anyone can see the discomfort for what it really is; a means of self-preservation. It’s nothing more or less than one person either articulating or disguising their vulnerabilities at another person’s expense. So taking this into account, the only way for the truth to be evaluated without being treated as a weapon, is to present it artfully.

    I find girls to be hyper- sensitive to a lack of compassion. We want to be assured that we are understood because we are inclined to doubt ourselves. Boys are almost automatically defensive; compassion can be interpreted as condescension in their eyes. They seem to be sensitive to differences in words and tone and are extra weary of manipulation. I think the bottom line is that we all give each other too much credit. We see the other person as stronger as and more cunning than they are in actuality. We judge with bruised egos and see their action or lack thereof as a deliberate measure taken against us. When really, it’s the same weakness we feel and it’s taken in their own defense.

    Look, I make mistakes. I can be an evil, conniving, and self-righteous ***.  But I reassess my understandings and I question my motives often. Because in all honestly, at the end of the day, I just want to be a good person. I don’t like this; this uncomfortable uncertainty involved in living. I don’t like the self-destructive lies we all hide under. As humans, I just sort of feel like we’re in this together. So here, these are the lessons that have helped me be a better person. And if this rings insincere and sharing this truth doesn’t give you a deep sense of human inter-connection, well sucks to be you, because sharing this does it for me. 

    Just kidding… 

    I do my thing and you do your thing. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, And you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it's beautiful. If not, it can't be helped.

    -          Gestalt Prayer


  • Guess who’s spending New Years Isolated from society?


    That’s right, yours truly. Tonight, I’m writing this blog, possibly finishing an essay for another, watching I Think I love MY Wife on demand, and quite possibly getting drunk with dear old mum and dad. Mmm… sounds exhilarating, doesn’t it?  I hate the anti-climactic nature of days made relevant by the media. I’ve been trying really hard to not care about being loser- but today is just one of those days I get to be made starkly aware of how uncool I really am.

                    It’s ok, no one’s really cool. Cool is a synonym for apathetic hottie with a shortage of priorities. Apathy is an illusion that has to be practiced as emotions are part of the human condition. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. And everyone has goals, some people just don’t do *** about them. There  we have it; we just exposed cool as a façade.

                    It’s funny. Here I am being all bitchy and bitter about not doing *** on New Years but the truth is this is probably the best new years I’ve had since 8th grade. Here’s a brief timeline for you.

    9th grade- Walked into a house of belligerent high school freshman; some in tears, some in vomit. Got wasted off an alcohol-Nyquil concoction, and ended up cheating on the guy I was hooking up with and actually liked (in his presence) with some grimey high school senior. Shitty, Shitty night.

    !0th grade- Rehab, 10:30 Curfew.

    11th grade- Alcoholics Anonymous Booze- free New Years in Canada. Guess what stupid teenage ex- druggies do when there are no drugs or booze? They ***… I was 15 and spent the whole night telling this 16 year old kid that “it wasn’t going to happen.”

    12th- Oh, who could forget beloved senior year. It was right around the time I started drinking again. I told myself I wasn’t a stupid teenager anymore, I could do this responsibly; treat myself with respect. Wrong!!! Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I had a party at my house. I, I don’t want to talk about it. It wasn’t that bad I promise, I just fucked up- that’s all. Life was an avalanche of ***-ups after that. One mistake and I forced myself into a party-girl coma. I get like that, all or nothing. I think I try to justify my actions by establishing a whole new identity.

    ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***. ***.

    It’s ok, I’m ok. It’s just one of those days I just feel- icky. I’m so little, you know? I still feel like a ten year old in so many ways. I’ve always been a very eager little child, I walked and talked early, I guess I just wanted to experience life. And in a lot of ways I’m glad I did. But, it doesn’t always feel good. Sometimes the empty moments just sting. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to evoke pity or anything- It’s just how I feel. It will go away when I get lost in the distractions of life all over again. I just, I want to let you know that it’s not worth it. Reckless abandon might make for a good story and it provides some perspective, but it’s hard to live with sometimes.

    I know. Everyone makes mistakes, everyone feels guilt and shame, it’s inevitable. It’s just… be careful. I’m very lucky. I’m physically healthy, and pretty emotionally sound, but not everyone will be so lucky.  Living only for the moment, not believing in consequences isn’t valiant, it’s a spineless fallacy. The Cool thing to do, is often naïve and self-destructive, in all its revered glory. Nothing is a hurdle in time that can be jumped over and forgotten.   Just sit, let the pain course through your veins, it will have to sooner or later. Life is filled with boring lonely and empty moments- and it’s ok. Noise-canceling headphones, remember?

    It’s so strange. On the verge of my eighteenth birthday, I feel like I’ve come out of a four year- coma. I should rework the 12 steps; I still have them by the way, all my old therapy assignments… One of these days I’ll give them the once over. Now, I just want focus on the present, not forget, just let go of the old stupid bullshit…