Monday, 25 July 2011
Not all those who wander are lost
Listening to a song today I realized I'm going to embrace my lonerness. I always thought of it as something that disabled me. That secluded me. That made me feel like I don't fit. That I would eventually learn to adapt and transform and become like all the social butterfly girls I see everyday. But for some reason listening to this beautiful, just beautiful husky song that swayed me even in my seat, I realized I will never fit. I will never be "normal". I will never trade personality for clothes. I will never trade soul for popularity. I will never trade my inner geek for being flawless. I will be a loner. Music and the way it empowers me, makes me feel, makes me dance and bounce in a public place, has given me the confidence to rock being a loner. I must overcome my bullshit fear of not looking good or appearing collected and just be happy being lost. Happy being a wanderer. Because not all those who wander are lost.
Monday, 11 July 2011
Beg to Differ
Came across the quote "life sucks and then you die."
I beg to differ. Life doesn't suck. I do :P
I beg to differ. Life doesn't suck. I do :P
Friday, 1 July 2011
Confidence Disorder
It official. I am diagnosed with confidence disorder. It doesn't sound as life threatening or terrifying as cancer or epelepsy but I can assure you my disorder fucking disables me. Growing up I was the youngest of four kids. Right there fucked me up. I was always tailing after them, awkward and impressionable I wanted to be popular and included. But I was years behind all of them so I spent most of time watching from the sidelines while my brother and his skater friends did stunts, or being told by my older sisters and their girlfriends to piss off while I tried listen to their gossip. It was hard because I liked people but I wasn't very social. I didn't like boys or taking sides in fights or plastic toys like most girls did. I liked making bug farms in empty jam jars or reading books about fantasy worlds. Needless to say I was a bit of a loner. I did socialize and I did have my school buddies or the neighbourhood pals to screw around with firecrackers with or fuck someones yard up when the mood hit, but other than that I was alone. So I never started or build much self confidence around friends, or even around people in general.
I was also bullied in middle school. I had originally went to this sweet little elementary school in small town where it was okay to not wear makeup and wear the same puppy dog t-shirt everyday. But then we moved and I had to go to public school downtown. It was huge. I went from a place with 300 students for the whole building, to 900 students in only 3 grades. Girls here were scary. They were tall, skinny to the bone, had long perfect straight hair, and they had clothes that would make even a stripper shocked. Thongs hung high above jeans, boobs hung low out of tank tops 3 sizes too small for them. Instead of learning about the importance of character, loyalty, friends, I had to learn the importance of Roxy, lululemon, and Dorina's. It was a cultural shock that literally broke me.
I'll never forget I came to the first gym class in grade 6 and they were all sitting there as I was introduced. I noticed a few of those perfect girls staring and whispering together as their eyes raked down my shrimpy body. I knew what they looking at. My legs. I hadn't learned to shave yet and my sister always teased me, calling me "Christopher" because I had such hairy man legs. But I didn't care then, I was happy to run around and be careless about those pedicure girl things. Until that moment. After an hour of whispering and giggles I came home crying and begged my air head mother to show me how to use a razor.
I learned to survive middle school. But surviving isn't about developing. I made friends with the other weirdos and unclassifieds and we gave eachother strength, but not enough to be fearless. So again my confidence, my assurance in myself wasn't growing.
My mother wasn't much help either. She wasn't the type of person who could handle kids, physically or emotionally. I had to take care of myself, feed myself, make sure the house was okay, that my homework was done. Because my mother wasn't there for any of it. I used to leave for days on end to stay at a friends house, and come back and my mother wouldn't even have noticed I was gone. When I was being bullied by a particular girl at school I used to come home crying and tell my mother how much I hurt, and she would tell me to just get tough and get over it. When all I wanted was some support, some love, maybe even just for her to tell me things will get better, all she could say to me was "Stop being such a baby." Fuck it hurt me growing up with her. She stripped me of any kind of emotional backbone a parent is supposed to help build.
So I came to live with my dad. He was better in ways. He at least put food in the fridge. But I noticed his attack was more subtle. He was never pleased with me. If I got straight A's on my report card he'd shrug. If I vacummed the house, he's fit a spot and then make me do it all again. And all I heard from the family was things he complained about me behind my back. My Grandpa would ask why I wasn't working 2 jobs instead of one only a day after I quit, my siblings would ask why I wasn't cleaning up enough if I didn't do the dishes one night. Nothing I did was enough. And I was never even seen compared to his other star children. I would never be as pretty as the eldest, or as talented as the brother, or as devoted and godliest as my sister. I was never anything more than "the baby". My self esteem, shrunk to the size of a golf ball.
Why am I saying all this? Because at this time I'm trying to figure out a career. A job. Something to study in college. But I can't decide. I'm afraid. Terrified. And so confused about myself that I can't figure out what I want. I'm so screwed up I don't even trust my own thoughts. I have no confidence or boldness to just make a decision and stick to it. To trust myself to know what I want. Where does that leave me?
When I was eight I used to look for caterpillars around my yard. When I'd find one I'd get one of my mothers pickle jars and cut small holes in the lid. I'd put grass and twigs and make a little green habitat for the caterpillar to live in. I'd watch it eat, and sleep, and even make itself into a caccoon all in room. And like clockwork I'd wait all year for it to emerge into a butterfly in the pickle jar, and like an alarm I'd forget to hide it and my mother would (in her random raids) come into my room and throw it away. I never got to see the butterflies. She stole that from me.
One year though I was extra careful. And I finally came home to a beautiful gold butterfly where there had only been a brown sack before. I took the jar outside and released her. I wanted to set her free, to watch her fly away. But the funny was she didn't fly away, she didn't even leave. She just sat in the glass, stupid and scared to even come out. Thinking about it now I wonder, is that me? Too conditioned to destructive people, to a destructive enviroment? Contained in glass of doubt that even when I have to the chance to break free I don't take it? Will I ever fly? Or am I still in a cacoon.
I was also bullied in middle school. I had originally went to this sweet little elementary school in small town where it was okay to not wear makeup and wear the same puppy dog t-shirt everyday. But then we moved and I had to go to public school downtown. It was huge. I went from a place with 300 students for the whole building, to 900 students in only 3 grades. Girls here were scary. They were tall, skinny to the bone, had long perfect straight hair, and they had clothes that would make even a stripper shocked. Thongs hung high above jeans, boobs hung low out of tank tops 3 sizes too small for them. Instead of learning about the importance of character, loyalty, friends, I had to learn the importance of Roxy, lululemon, and Dorina's. It was a cultural shock that literally broke me.
I'll never forget I came to the first gym class in grade 6 and they were all sitting there as I was introduced. I noticed a few of those perfect girls staring and whispering together as their eyes raked down my shrimpy body. I knew what they looking at. My legs. I hadn't learned to shave yet and my sister always teased me, calling me "Christopher" because I had such hairy man legs. But I didn't care then, I was happy to run around and be careless about those pedicure girl things. Until that moment. After an hour of whispering and giggles I came home crying and begged my air head mother to show me how to use a razor.
I learned to survive middle school. But surviving isn't about developing. I made friends with the other weirdos and unclassifieds and we gave eachother strength, but not enough to be fearless. So again my confidence, my assurance in myself wasn't growing.
My mother wasn't much help either. She wasn't the type of person who could handle kids, physically or emotionally. I had to take care of myself, feed myself, make sure the house was okay, that my homework was done. Because my mother wasn't there for any of it. I used to leave for days on end to stay at a friends house, and come back and my mother wouldn't even have noticed I was gone. When I was being bullied by a particular girl at school I used to come home crying and tell my mother how much I hurt, and she would tell me to just get tough and get over it. When all I wanted was some support, some love, maybe even just for her to tell me things will get better, all she could say to me was "Stop being such a baby." Fuck it hurt me growing up with her. She stripped me of any kind of emotional backbone a parent is supposed to help build.
So I came to live with my dad. He was better in ways. He at least put food in the fridge. But I noticed his attack was more subtle. He was never pleased with me. If I got straight A's on my report card he'd shrug. If I vacummed the house, he's fit a spot and then make me do it all again. And all I heard from the family was things he complained about me behind my back. My Grandpa would ask why I wasn't working 2 jobs instead of one only a day after I quit, my siblings would ask why I wasn't cleaning up enough if I didn't do the dishes one night. Nothing I did was enough. And I was never even seen compared to his other star children. I would never be as pretty as the eldest, or as talented as the brother, or as devoted and godliest as my sister. I was never anything more than "the baby". My self esteem, shrunk to the size of a golf ball.
Why am I saying all this? Because at this time I'm trying to figure out a career. A job. Something to study in college. But I can't decide. I'm afraid. Terrified. And so confused about myself that I can't figure out what I want. I'm so screwed up I don't even trust my own thoughts. I have no confidence or boldness to just make a decision and stick to it. To trust myself to know what I want. Where does that leave me?
When I was eight I used to look for caterpillars around my yard. When I'd find one I'd get one of my mothers pickle jars and cut small holes in the lid. I'd put grass and twigs and make a little green habitat for the caterpillar to live in. I'd watch it eat, and sleep, and even make itself into a caccoon all in room. And like clockwork I'd wait all year for it to emerge into a butterfly in the pickle jar, and like an alarm I'd forget to hide it and my mother would (in her random raids) come into my room and throw it away. I never got to see the butterflies. She stole that from me.
One year though I was extra careful. And I finally came home to a beautiful gold butterfly where there had only been a brown sack before. I took the jar outside and released her. I wanted to set her free, to watch her fly away. But the funny was she didn't fly away, she didn't even leave. She just sat in the glass, stupid and scared to even come out. Thinking about it now I wonder, is that me? Too conditioned to destructive people, to a destructive enviroment? Contained in glass of doubt that even when I have to the chance to break free I don't take it? Will I ever fly? Or am I still in a cacoon.
Saturday, 25 June 2011
Useless Lists
Today I was bored. And when I'm bored I tend to ignore all the pressing responsibilites in my life and do trivial stupid things like surf the internet or make up useless lists in my head. Right now I should be worrying about my future career plans and moving to a new place, but instead I spent the day sleeping, eating, and now writting down one of my lists. It passed through my mind today how hard or how many anchors there are if you're a woman verses being a man. Then to try and balance my naturally cynical side I also thought of the good things (although their are damn few) about being a woman instead of a man.
So here goes
CONS:
1. Periods. Fucking nuff said. Pain. Blood. Can't wear white. Abstaining from sex. The assinine men who even when you're not on your period but are angry they ask the dumbass question," Are you on your period or something?"
2. Maintaining beauty. We shave. We Tweeze. We wax our crotches.We buy cosmetics. We use cosmetics. Hair dyes. False Eyelashes. Lipsticks. Mascara. Eyeliner. Perfumes. Tight clothes. Bras. Thongs. Even fucking nail polish cuz our nails have to be pretty too! And then we all swoon and fight over these guys who roll out of their beds in the same baggy ass clothes and greasy hair every day.
3. Media Pressure. With so many models and gorgeous female stars out there we are all lusting to look just like them. So...unless your 80 pounds, 6 feet, with D cup boobs and long blonde hair you're fucked. Fantastic.
4. The night fear factor. By that I mean women, no matter where they are, even if it's a safe city have to be aware and careful walking around at night. We always have to keep that danger of a someone attacking us in the back of our minds walking alone in the dark. Particularly a guy. Where as boys can walk around with no fear or bother at all. Because I mean even if women raped men I can't really see them complaining. Can you hear it now...
The Victim- "Your Honor, this hot blonde girl totally took advantage of me and jumped on top of me, trying to rip off my clothes!
The Judge- "And this would be a problem because....?"
5. Procreation. Bun in the oven. Giving Birth. However you want to call it. Yes I know babies are cute and we all want them but what does the man do after the sex part. The woman has to eat well, carry a watermelon around for 9 months, morning sickness, sore boobs, loose her tight ass. Plus her vagina will never be the same after squeezing out the watermelon. My god a pregnant woman really deserves a martini, and yet even thats denied to her!
6. Boobs. Yes I know you're thinking "Shouldn't that be listed on the Pro's?
But the thing is, unless you have those perfect full pert ones (usually only created by silicon not God) then you're overlooked. Too small chest= lame, sad and uninteresting. Over large chest= happy stupid hot bimbos. Again another no win situation.
7. Competition. There are so so sooooo many beautiful, pretty, stunning, flashy women out there. It's hard to be noticed or even seen when there's so much more choices for men. And yes I'm not saying there are not handsome men out there too but just look at a nightclub for instance. There's always hundreds of these decked out babes and maybe 4 or 5 decent looking men. Hate to cut it to you, but women are just the hotter breed of humans.
8. We age quicker. With stress, dna weirdness, or just cuz the universe wants to punish us, it clinically proven women age faster then men. So that's why all those douchbag old bachelors can leave their wife so they can screw their secretary...I get it now.
Okay I could keep going for an hour but I guess to save myself for ending my girl life I'll do the Pro's
PROS:
1. Affection issue. We can be lovey dovey, touchy, emotional, and open with feelings without being scared we look soft or mushy. We can hold hands, link arms or even make out with chicks and still not be termed Gay. Especially since men usually encourage girl on girl type shit ahahaha
2. Sleepovers. We can gossip and go crazy and sleep with our friends in the same bed and there is nothing wrong or awkward about it
3. Feeling sexy. Yes men can look good or dress up to a certain extent and feel good about themselves. In other words become a cocky rooster. But there's something about getting dressed up for a woman that just isn't the same. When you're skin is smooth and sleek, and you've got that tight dress and low sparkling necklace on your collar bone. When you slide youself into those sinfully high heels and pull your long velvet hair over your shoulder, you know you look good.
4. Smartness. Yupp. Sorry but it's a scientific fact women are 70% more driven and smarter in school, and bonus we have intuiton! Suck on that cavemen.
5. Titanic. Or the sympathy vote. When shit goes down like the Titanic, who was unloaded to safety first? Yes that's right "Woman and children first!"
Booyah!
Other than that though, I'm afraid being a man would just easier. However I guess it's a good thing I'm a lez cause there's nothing further I would want to be than a boy hahah.
So here goes
CONS:
1. Periods. Fucking nuff said. Pain. Blood. Can't wear white. Abstaining from sex. The assinine men who even when you're not on your period but are angry they ask the dumbass question," Are you on your period or something?"
2. Maintaining beauty. We shave. We Tweeze. We wax our crotches.We buy cosmetics. We use cosmetics. Hair dyes. False Eyelashes. Lipsticks. Mascara. Eyeliner. Perfumes. Tight clothes. Bras. Thongs. Even fucking nail polish cuz our nails have to be pretty too! And then we all swoon and fight over these guys who roll out of their beds in the same baggy ass clothes and greasy hair every day.
3. Media Pressure. With so many models and gorgeous female stars out there we are all lusting to look just like them. So...unless your 80 pounds, 6 feet, with D cup boobs and long blonde hair you're fucked. Fantastic.
4. The night fear factor. By that I mean women, no matter where they are, even if it's a safe city have to be aware and careful walking around at night. We always have to keep that danger of a someone attacking us in the back of our minds walking alone in the dark. Particularly a guy. Where as boys can walk around with no fear or bother at all. Because I mean even if women raped men I can't really see them complaining. Can you hear it now...
The Victim- "Your Honor, this hot blonde girl totally took advantage of me and jumped on top of me, trying to rip off my clothes!
The Judge- "And this would be a problem because....?"
5. Procreation. Bun in the oven. Giving Birth. However you want to call it. Yes I know babies are cute and we all want them but what does the man do after the sex part. The woman has to eat well, carry a watermelon around for 9 months, morning sickness, sore boobs, loose her tight ass. Plus her vagina will never be the same after squeezing out the watermelon. My god a pregnant woman really deserves a martini, and yet even thats denied to her!
6. Boobs. Yes I know you're thinking "Shouldn't that be listed on the Pro's?
But the thing is, unless you have those perfect full pert ones (usually only created by silicon not God) then you're overlooked. Too small chest= lame, sad and uninteresting. Over large chest= happy stupid hot bimbos. Again another no win situation.
7. Competition. There are so so sooooo many beautiful, pretty, stunning, flashy women out there. It's hard to be noticed or even seen when there's so much more choices for men. And yes I'm not saying there are not handsome men out there too but just look at a nightclub for instance. There's always hundreds of these decked out babes and maybe 4 or 5 decent looking men. Hate to cut it to you, but women are just the hotter breed of humans.
8. We age quicker. With stress, dna weirdness, or just cuz the universe wants to punish us, it clinically proven women age faster then men. So that's why all those douchbag old bachelors can leave their wife so they can screw their secretary...I get it now.
Okay I could keep going for an hour but I guess to save myself for ending my girl life I'll do the Pro's
PROS:
1. Affection issue. We can be lovey dovey, touchy, emotional, and open with feelings without being scared we look soft or mushy. We can hold hands, link arms or even make out with chicks and still not be termed Gay. Especially since men usually encourage girl on girl type shit ahahaha
2. Sleepovers. We can gossip and go crazy and sleep with our friends in the same bed and there is nothing wrong or awkward about it
3. Feeling sexy. Yes men can look good or dress up to a certain extent and feel good about themselves. In other words become a cocky rooster. But there's something about getting dressed up for a woman that just isn't the same. When you're skin is smooth and sleek, and you've got that tight dress and low sparkling necklace on your collar bone. When you slide youself into those sinfully high heels and pull your long velvet hair over your shoulder, you know you look good.
4. Smartness. Yupp. Sorry but it's a scientific fact women are 70% more driven and smarter in school, and bonus we have intuiton! Suck on that cavemen.
5. Titanic. Or the sympathy vote. When shit goes down like the Titanic, who was unloaded to safety first? Yes that's right "Woman and children first!"
Booyah!
Other than that though, I'm afraid being a man would just easier. However I guess it's a good thing I'm a lez cause there's nothing further I would want to be than a boy hahah.
Monday, 20 June 2011
Sunday, 19 June 2011
Lady Balls
I've decided I'm a lesbian. It's easier. It's right. And most of all it actually makes sense. I think I was just in denial for so long becuase I was scared of what my family might think. But since my family (particularly my father) have never really been proud or aware of me, I finally said fuck it to myself! I'm gonna do the shit I want to do when I want to. I'm tired of always trying to please others and making decisions based on how it looks to the outside world.
I came to this personal sexual preference choice tonight actually, or more precisely 11:11pm. Since the time was also creepily identical i took it as some weird fucked up psychic sign that this is a good choice.
Initially I was thinking about this type of decision before tonight but the events that happened to me today just confirmed it for me.
At about 6pm I basically ran home from work like a crazy bitch to prepare for what was supposed to be my first official date. With a guy. Yes you know the people with a "P" down there instead of the "V". He was my childhood crush. We'd seen eachother off and on for about 2 years after finding eachother on facebook after I moved away in middle school. So like anyone who you haven't seen in awhile, you want to look fucking super hot when you see them again. Not like hoebag-overtrying-slut hot, but that effortless-breezy-sexy hot. So I shaved (which is a big deal for me seriously), straightened my hair, put makeup on, ate a nervous dinner of toast, and even wore a bra!
When he came to pick me up he was casual and funny. But it was still awkward. And I knew instantly why. He wanted me "in that way", whereas I just wanted to go see a movie and veg out. So we went to the movies and had dinner and talked and laughed. It was nice I thought. Besides the fact the fucker made me pay for everything except the popcorn. What a gentlemen eh? Anyways driving me home he kind of just roughly pulled my hair in some kind of attempt at kissing me. But we were in a parking lot. And correct me if i'm wrong but if you want to kiss a girl you shouldn't rip her scalp off as foreplay right? So I basically blew him off. I turned away, and not because I'm frigid. Fuck I can be just as horny as the next wacked out teenager. But I just didn't like it. I didn't like him, I didn't like the energy, the way it was happening, and the fact that he was a guy. The whole situation made my skin feel like it was crawling with lice.
To say the ride home was awkward is an understatement. I could have bloody sliced the air with a knife it was so tense. He wouldn't look at me and I tried to make trivial small talk to smooth things over. He dropped me off and we said bye like 4 wobbly times.
I came straight to the computer because my fucking best girlfriend who is that friend you have to share news with right away wouldn't answer her god damn phone. So now I'm resorting to having to tell the computer. Really intimate tina...
Hence I started typing at the ominous 11:11pm to which I made the decision I'm a Lesbian. If I had gone out to dinner with a girl, she would have dressed up and impressed me too. She would have been courteous and helpful with the bill. She would have been smooth about seduction, and slow, and smokey. She would have leaned in slowly for a kiss and wouldn't have tried to pull my head off like the god damn headless horseman. And it's not even all that either. It's the fact that I've never felt good being physical with guys. In fact all my (well few) experiences getting physical with a guy have either ended up making me disappointed or pissed or like this case: just plain grossed out.
I know talking bout this shit is weird and yada yada, but I guess I'm just wondering if I have the lady balls to actually full on become an official dyke. A homo. A lez. A woman's woman. Specially since introducing a girlfriend to my family would for certain cause a few heart attacks. I mean for my Grandma (who is a pyscho Catholic preacher in a tiny frail grandma's body) telling her that I was a Lesbian in her eyes would be the equivalent of me being a raping murderer atheist. Seriously. In fact I think even the murdering atheist could still repent and get in to heaven, where as us lesbos are damned no matter what. Fucking love how religion works hey?
Oh well...jesus I've been saying that s often it's become my catchphrase. I can't make any money? Oh well. I don't know what to do for a career? Oh well. There's no more toliet paper left? Oh well. Will my family disown me for being a dyke? Oh well.
Honestly though I'm kind of happy because for once I feel certain about something. Or at least certain enough to know men are dicks even without their real dick. There is no prince charming. There is no knight in shinning armour. But if I can find a saucy brunnette babe I'd consider my fairytale dream come true. So hey Cinderella, ditch that fag prince and give me a ring sugar ;)
Tuesday, 7 June 2011
Small steps Big difference
I had a good day today. Since quiting my second job awhile ago I now have days of free time. Despite not making much money and my dad's initial judgement and dissapointment in my decision, I've come to feel like it was a smart choice. I mean there are still times when doubt creeps in and I wonder what the fuck I'm doing since I'm kind of just drifting...but this drifting is nice. I woke up at noon. Lazy and still basking in that warm sense of good sleep I had a hot bath. And then a cold shower. And I just was content to not think or worry or feel anything other than the rush of water over my raw skin. I made an omlette full of thick hot lava butter. And cheese. And onions. Sliding my mishapen and squggly omlette I added a half a piece of avacado and grabbed a spoon. I ate and scooped out every speck of food until it was gone. I didn't feel guilty for the fat or because I wasn't exercising. I just gorged on that soft green avacado, letting it squish on my tongue like wet clay. And I read. Like a novel. No lame magazine or college brochure or drivers manual. I read a book. It was the first good book in awhile. The sun came out and I dragged my smelly old sleeping bag out on the back lawn. I lyed in the sun and read. And dozed. And let the sun stroke my head the way my mom used to as a baby.
I felt loved. Or just calm. Something unfamiliar with me. But I trusted it. I wonder if this is God? Or maybe its just me when all the dust settles. I worry. And I weep. And I fear. But sometimes when I have cried and thrown up all that stupid emotion shit, I have this deep calm. This complete and utter peace that only comes when I don't notice or when I forget to fear.
The book I was reading was strange. But the characters so real and the story so twisted but so realistic. I mean there was no imgainary shit and no fairy tale storyline. It was about average people but how their lives twists and interceeds dramatically, and sometimes devistatingly. I can only describe it as beautiful. The reason though I think I loved it so much was because a girl in the story finds love. But its not that krap in hollywood. It isn't sex or love at first site bullshit. In fact they hate eachother at first. But they learn about eachother. They accept eachother. They adore eacother. And they love eachother. I just keep reading this line in the story. After spending straight days together she's getting ready to leave and he won't let her. He keeps pulling her back down and whining for her to stay again. Like he can't relax, can't even fall asleep without her with him. She laughs and tells him sleep since he could and did before he met her. And Robbie tells her, "I don't know what I did before. Before you. I can't remeber what I cared about or looked forward to. Whatever it was, it's gone now. All I care about now is you. It's insane, really, kinda stupid. But I've never felt like this before. For anybody. Nothing like it."
My god so fucking beautiful and so damn honest even I felt my heart swell reading it. It was just so sexy. Even though it's not sexual or any innuendos in there at all. It just how he said it. Like he cherished her. Adored her. Needed her in every way. Even just to be able to fall asleep he needed her presence there. If that's falling in love god I want it. Growing up I was always longing to be like my beautiful sisters. They were perfect. Slim, sexy, and just so naturally attractive all they needed was to smile and the boys came running. Especially the eldest. She had boyfriends in and out of her life since 15 I would say. I used to hate it. I kept telling myself that hatred was because I thought it was superficial but the real reason I was jealous. Jealous they were stealing her from me, and so damn envious that she had that power over men. That irresistable allure. I couldn't blame her though. She was smart, and delicate, and so stunningly beautiful what man wouldn't want to possess her? It was hard for me to face but I was a very jealous person. Still am. I'm jealous of the beautiful. The talented. The smart. The rich. The spolied. But I don't want to be. So bad it hurts. But this envy I feel for those I should love is like a poison that eats me like a cancer. I want to learn to hapy and confident in myself, even without all the things I yearn to have.
Most of all though I think I want to fall in love. I know it sounds corny and that I sound like every damn impressionable heartsick puppy teen since the dawn of time. But I can't help it. I want someone to want. But more than that I want someone who wants me back. Who says things like Robbie. Who tells me he needs me, and misses me even before I left. Who makes me blush, and makes me feel bold at the same time. Who listens to the same dorky music as me and will dance around the living room when I pull him. Who will make omelettes with me and know to add extra onions cuz thats the way I like them. I think I just want someone who knows me you know? Like the good shit and all the ugly shit, but still can't imagine life without me. Who I know better than he knows himself, and he can always tell what I'm feeling. Even when I don't want him to.
I don't have that allure though. That sensual yet coy allure most women have. That thing that just draws in men like bees to honey. I don't know if they were born with it or they learned how to master it but some women just have it. They can flirt as naturally as speaking. They have that way of blinking even that's sexy. Fuck man, the closest I got to flirting was telling a guy at Starbucks I thought his shoes were nice and then when he gave me a weird look I tripped and fell off the barstool. Real smooth retard.
Oh well...
I just have to stop always longing for something. Money, trips, guys, it's all giving me stress and I don't even have it yet. I need to learn to take a day at a time. Like today. Sleep. Breathe. Eat. Relax. Read. Think. Don't think. Feel. Doze. Walk. Small steps big difference.
I felt loved. Or just calm. Something unfamiliar with me. But I trusted it. I wonder if this is God? Or maybe its just me when all the dust settles. I worry. And I weep. And I fear. But sometimes when I have cried and thrown up all that stupid emotion shit, I have this deep calm. This complete and utter peace that only comes when I don't notice or when I forget to fear.
The book I was reading was strange. But the characters so real and the story so twisted but so realistic. I mean there was no imgainary shit and no fairy tale storyline. It was about average people but how their lives twists and interceeds dramatically, and sometimes devistatingly. I can only describe it as beautiful. The reason though I think I loved it so much was because a girl in the story finds love. But its not that krap in hollywood. It isn't sex or love at first site bullshit. In fact they hate eachother at first. But they learn about eachother. They accept eachother. They adore eacother. And they love eachother. I just keep reading this line in the story. After spending straight days together she's getting ready to leave and he won't let her. He keeps pulling her back down and whining for her to stay again. Like he can't relax, can't even fall asleep without her with him. She laughs and tells him sleep since he could and did before he met her. And Robbie tells her, "I don't know what I did before. Before you. I can't remeber what I cared about or looked forward to. Whatever it was, it's gone now. All I care about now is you. It's insane, really, kinda stupid. But I've never felt like this before. For anybody. Nothing like it."
My god so fucking beautiful and so damn honest even I felt my heart swell reading it. It was just so sexy. Even though it's not sexual or any innuendos in there at all. It just how he said it. Like he cherished her. Adored her. Needed her in every way. Even just to be able to fall asleep he needed her presence there. If that's falling in love god I want it. Growing up I was always longing to be like my beautiful sisters. They were perfect. Slim, sexy, and just so naturally attractive all they needed was to smile and the boys came running. Especially the eldest. She had boyfriends in and out of her life since 15 I would say. I used to hate it. I kept telling myself that hatred was because I thought it was superficial but the real reason I was jealous. Jealous they were stealing her from me, and so damn envious that she had that power over men. That irresistable allure. I couldn't blame her though. She was smart, and delicate, and so stunningly beautiful what man wouldn't want to possess her? It was hard for me to face but I was a very jealous person. Still am. I'm jealous of the beautiful. The talented. The smart. The rich. The spolied. But I don't want to be. So bad it hurts. But this envy I feel for those I should love is like a poison that eats me like a cancer. I want to learn to hapy and confident in myself, even without all the things I yearn to have.
Most of all though I think I want to fall in love. I know it sounds corny and that I sound like every damn impressionable heartsick puppy teen since the dawn of time. But I can't help it. I want someone to want. But more than that I want someone who wants me back. Who says things like Robbie. Who tells me he needs me, and misses me even before I left. Who makes me blush, and makes me feel bold at the same time. Who listens to the same dorky music as me and will dance around the living room when I pull him. Who will make omelettes with me and know to add extra onions cuz thats the way I like them. I think I just want someone who knows me you know? Like the good shit and all the ugly shit, but still can't imagine life without me. Who I know better than he knows himself, and he can always tell what I'm feeling. Even when I don't want him to.
I don't have that allure though. That sensual yet coy allure most women have. That thing that just draws in men like bees to honey. I don't know if they were born with it or they learned how to master it but some women just have it. They can flirt as naturally as speaking. They have that way of blinking even that's sexy. Fuck man, the closest I got to flirting was telling a guy at Starbucks I thought his shoes were nice and then when he gave me a weird look I tripped and fell off the barstool. Real smooth retard.
Oh well...
I just have to stop always longing for something. Money, trips, guys, it's all giving me stress and I don't even have it yet. I need to learn to take a day at a time. Like today. Sleep. Breathe. Eat. Relax. Read. Think. Don't think. Feel. Doze. Walk. Small steps big difference.
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