Seriously, today.
What a completely shitty day for me. (It's how the universe restores balance in the world. With the blissful moments comes the shittiness for counteraction.)
Right from the moment of waking up to all the motions needed to be performed throughout the day. Don't you just fucking hate when that happens? You can tell how awful I feel from my bitter expressions. To be such a positive person, it definitely blows to feel so moody and angry.
I am in such a fucking bad mood right now that I hate it. I just want to scream or fucking take out all my anger and frustration with massive punches and kicks on a fucking punching bag until I am completely exhausted. And when I am so immensely frustrated with fury, it makes me fucking tear up because I am just so bottled up. So I want to do all of that.
Thank god for Marlboros.
I need this day to just be fucking over so tomorrow I can just start a new and better one.
I just thought I'd share that. The good thing is that my frustrations never linger for long (couple of hours max) and then I'm over it. So I just have to wait for the mood to lift.
I fucking hate bad days. They make me just want to sulk.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Real Love; These Things Last Forever
Though most times I may feel hopeless, there are things that are able to make it all better to bring me out of the rut. And I just wanted to share a hidden passion for certain things that I just truly love that entirely fill me with an enchanting and, albeit I know I use this word or form of this word all too often, transcending feeling.
For some reason or another, I absolutely love things set in a different period or era. I absolutely love love love: classical music (piano is my favorite or string mixed symphonies), jazz/blues (ie; Etta James, Billie Holiday, Otis Redding, Louis Armstrong type of rhythm and blues), period books and films or basically anything set in another era than this one we live in (preferably from the 1800s-1960s UK:England or US:New England: 1900s-1960s). I think that's what I really wish for to be when I spoke about the world in my mind I desire to be transported to in the entry Transcendence. I don't know what it is about that life that just attracts me so. I think it's the slower simplicity and the heightened subtlety that radiates the propriety and composure that I wish everyone had. I just love it and I can't help it.
We live in a world, especially me being in America (California to be exact; the most superficial state by far), that is filled with such vulgarity and lack of etiquette as well as common courtesy that sometimes I really cannot stand it. My goal for when I "grow up", I realize I am 21 and "grown up", but I mean completely financially stable and successful and all that aspiring goodness, is to really end up in England. I don't know what it is, maybe I've been brainwashed one too many times by everything (Which as you can see I most clearly am because I do realize that times have changed and I may know nothing or the real ideological systems there.), but the romanticist in me just wishes for I guess any part of that beauty that once was. I am just so fascinated with that sort of culture; I guess it's because I can't even begin to relate or touch it given my Chinese heritage.
But as for the purpose of this entry, I just wanted to archive and share the things that I just simply love that I know most of my peers would not even begin to relate or understand and therefore would actually see as completely strange (Because let's face it, kids these days in America are completely brainwashed by society's ideologies that they are so narrow-minded and in the system that they know no other way to be and aren't even able to become aware of it) These things are what keep me going and my spirits high in hope when I have clearly and willingly given up on mankind for now.
In my opinion, for right now in this disastrous world, wouldn't it better to just indulge in fantasies and dreams (mind you completely acknowledging the fact that they are dreams and fantasies not to be blurred with reality) so that you can be happy or stay happy in some way that serves as a prevention from constant jests and wounds from the progressing viciousness and degradation of humankind? (Honestly, sometimes I think about what has happened to the world today and it is just heartbreaking.) At least I would rather prefer that for now. This way I have a place in my own world that I can go to that saves me from not only the horrible outside cruel world, but also from my destructive self when nothing else can. What could be more perfect than getting lost in books, films, and music? I wish that all of you have something that lifts you up to feel hopeful when you have begun to sink because I know that I am so glad that I do. Everyone needs something like that don't they?
For some reason or another, I absolutely love things set in a different period or era. I absolutely love love love: classical music (piano is my favorite or string mixed symphonies), jazz/blues (ie; Etta James, Billie Holiday, Otis Redding, Louis Armstrong type of rhythm and blues), period books and films or basically anything set in another era than this one we live in (preferably from the 1800s-1960s UK:England or US:New England: 1900s-1960s). I think that's what I really wish for to be when I spoke about the world in my mind I desire to be transported to in the entry Transcendence. I don't know what it is about that life that just attracts me so. I think it's the slower simplicity and the heightened subtlety that radiates the propriety and composure that I wish everyone had. I just love it and I can't help it.
We live in a world, especially me being in America (California to be exact; the most superficial state by far), that is filled with such vulgarity and lack of etiquette as well as common courtesy that sometimes I really cannot stand it. My goal for when I "grow up", I realize I am 21 and "grown up", but I mean completely financially stable and successful and all that aspiring goodness, is to really end up in England. I don't know what it is, maybe I've been brainwashed one too many times by everything (Which as you can see I most clearly am because I do realize that times have changed and I may know nothing or the real ideological systems there.), but the romanticist in me just wishes for I guess any part of that beauty that once was. I am just so fascinated with that sort of culture; I guess it's because I can't even begin to relate or touch it given my Chinese heritage.
But as for the purpose of this entry, I just wanted to archive and share the things that I just simply love that I know most of my peers would not even begin to relate or understand and therefore would actually see as completely strange (Because let's face it, kids these days in America are completely brainwashed by society's ideologies that they are so narrow-minded and in the system that they know no other way to be and aren't even able to become aware of it) These things are what keep me going and my spirits high in hope when I have clearly and willingly given up on mankind for now.
In my opinion, for right now in this disastrous world, wouldn't it better to just indulge in fantasies and dreams (mind you completely acknowledging the fact that they are dreams and fantasies not to be blurred with reality) so that you can be happy or stay happy in some way that serves as a prevention from constant jests and wounds from the progressing viciousness and degradation of humankind? (Honestly, sometimes I think about what has happened to the world today and it is just heartbreaking.) At least I would rather prefer that for now. This way I have a place in my own world that I can go to that saves me from not only the horrible outside cruel world, but also from my destructive self when nothing else can. What could be more perfect than getting lost in books, films, and music? I wish that all of you have something that lifts you up to feel hopeful when you have begun to sink because I know that I am so glad that I do. Everyone needs something like that don't they?
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Elevation For The Soul
Today I took yet another mental health day. (The important class was canceled today due to campus protests so I don't feel too bad about truancy for I have been attended classes all too regularly. And I am quite proud of myself at that.) Don't you just love those? They are of especial significance to the uplifting hopefulness of my mind and soul and quite imperative to my entire being. Today is such a beautiful day as I opened my window to let in the slightly warm breeze (though weather still cold which I love) that contains the fresh dry scent (not damp grass which I hate) in the air I love so much that is reminiscent of the true world that occasionally reveals itself leaving me with a replenished supply of incandescent hope to last me for the time being. Today is such a great day. I can't stress that enough. And tonight is another night of party which I am more than looking forward to. Really though I really should let my liver and kidneys rest (I swear everyone I know is convinced that I am an alcoholic with reasons I cannot possibly fathom. Haha or can I?), but then again at the ripe age of 21, I have plenty of time to rest after my matriculation from university. I hope you all are having as wonderful a day as I and hope you all feel as good and as elated with beautiful hope and faith (more inner spiritual than religious for I am Buddhist but lacking in practice) as I do. I wish you all the best. Thus with an entirely irreplaceable light smirk, cheers lovers.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Unbelievable Part Deux
I am almost at a real loss from words and the numbness is beginning to settle all over me. And then I'm over it. (Really, if it wasn't for my ability to be so resilient and really discard things from my mind after full process of evaluation and ultimate resolution. I'm so grateful for my own ability to try to see the brighter side of things and remain positive. I would be even a greater mess without it. Great recovery skills at that haha.)
Everyone wonders why I keep my life so private from them. They wonder why I don't seem to share my personal life and sentiments with them.
It's because every time I do, my exact fears become even more prominent and are proven true. (I have major major abandonment issues, of which I am not proud of but they do stem from deep rooted issues from childhood so you can't fault me there.)
Disappointment soon follows with hurt from being the one to overestimate the valued importance of a friendship. Being at the wrong end of any relationship sucks.
This is why I keep myself so closed off. This is why I would rather be by myself because if you're by yourself to begin with then you don't face any false hopes or expectations that can later sting you with a disappointing follow through that can either make you or break you. (In my case, break you to start the re-ascending back into the dark place. My dark place.)
And I was right to.
You know the couple posts that I wrote in tribute to my great friend that I had? The friend that I put my trust in because I thought that she would never treat me the way other people have? My blog has become of great importance to me because it's the one space where I can think freely with the braveness anonymity through pseudonym gives me without having to fear judgment because the people in my life are not privy to these dark thoughts. And I chose to write about her a couple times in gratitude for helping me with my fragile and unstable state of mind such as in the entries Uplifted Gratitude and Irate Fury Extinguishing And Post Thought Semiotics. For me to reach out like this as to include her in the archiving of my emotional life is a very big feat for me. And to be honest, after the series of events that have happened after such a sort period of time of a weekend I will have to admit that this is the same friend of whom I chose to rant about in Unbelievable.
Where do I even begin? I don't even know what happened. I don't even know where to begin. My emotions are just a big circulating cloud filled with at first hurt, then to be succeeded by trying patience, then finishing with frustrating anger and then ultimately happy and consensual filtering out after realizing the degradation from treatment of the other and the brutally and truthful revealing fact that I don't need this at all. (Mind you this is all with an air of confusion thrown into every corner but ultimately coming to a cathartic conclusion.)
But I can tell you, for me, there is a certain point where I stop trying. I really do hate how I can never just NOT be the bigger person. It's rooted in my blood from my mother for I know how good-hearted she is and thus with a good heart follows life long vulnerability that results in perpetual pain.
I have tried all that I could have in this friendship. I have given my all. I am the kind of person that believes in trying to make something work until it absolutely cannot anymore. And when it can't I absolutely cut all ties to move forward and start a new. (I don't like going backwards or going in any motion resembling the past remember?)
This weekend I swallowed my pride and humiliated myself by stooping so low as to maniacally try to reach contact that would resemble stalker status. (Trust me, not one of my finer moments. But with a passionate personality in terms of importance in life, I hope it's understandable and forgiven) I guess I haven't completely lost my will for upright and immediate confrontation to solve a problem. Fight or flight right? I would rather solve something immediately so that I can put it out of my mind because I hate having things in the back of my mind. But doesn't anyone?
Now that I have had time to process everything. I can honestly say, I am okay now. Actually more than okay and I am never going to put myself in that situation ever again. I don't ever want to be subject to that impossible and immature drama ever again. I don't need it in my life. I have lived too hard to become the person I am today with my own standards in decorum to resort to having to deal with anything I initially would never have dealt with had it not been for a friend of significance. (that's my problem, I'm too empathetic and thus a push over and it needs to stop. Believe me I'm trying, but it's harder than it seems.) So I am done with it. I've been told that I need to value myself more and to know what I'm worth. And it's true. I need to value myself and understand that I shouldn't be treated that way with such disrespect after really trying. Really, I have said it time and time again, how can people knowingly be so cruel with no moral conscience or guilt to try to guide them? Shouldn't a person receive some compassion toward their good intentions? Yeah, but the fucked up world doesn't see it as so. The world fucks you, and then when it's done, it fucks you all over again.
I am not saying she's a terrible person or a bad friend at all. As I have once stated, she was actually one of the best friends I have ever had. But what I am saying is that people should not treat people cruelly the way that they do. It's just not right. It's morally not right to treat some one badly whether it be out of passive aggression just because you feel like you've been wronged or for any other reason. It's not right to behave like that. I look at certain people and I think, what kind of person are you to behave in such a way and how can people really be like that? Maybe I believe too much in common courtesy, etiquette and mutual respect between people. (I probably do, no, I do.) The world shouldn't be like that and we're old enough to be able to know and understand concepts and notions. That's the thing, We're old enough to know. Things should be looked at at different angles rather than just one. Hence my loathing for my environment, but that's a different story neither here nor there.
And thus,
I am over trying. I've given all that I could have and I've nothing left to give. All to try to salvage a very important friendship, at least in my opinion, that I cherished. I've lost my dignity in the process of the weekend. But now I'm taking it back. I did want to still be the bigger person and try, but I am thus making myself pathetic in the process and I won't do it anymore. (God I really do feel pathetic after reflecting over my behaviour, but not anymore now that I am coming back to myself) So I'm done with this. There is only so much patience a person can have and only so much a person can try and give. So I'm walking away.
The thing is, I'll most definitely without a doubt be okay, but will you?
It's such a shame for the loss of something great, but you keep moving forward.
I feel much better and that a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Amazing thing the process of "cleaning out," whether it be figuratively or literally, can do to a person to make them feel new again. Haha I know, I'm full on twisted right? People hate how I can never go backwards, but personally, I love it. It makes me feel brand new and fresh again to be ready for new possibility and opportunity. And tomorrow I know I will wake up lighthearted and start a new day. Cheers lovers, hope everyone is having a fantastic day.
Everyone wonders why I keep my life so private from them. They wonder why I don't seem to share my personal life and sentiments with them.
It's because every time I do, my exact fears become even more prominent and are proven true. (I have major major abandonment issues, of which I am not proud of but they do stem from deep rooted issues from childhood so you can't fault me there.)
Disappointment soon follows with hurt from being the one to overestimate the valued importance of a friendship. Being at the wrong end of any relationship sucks.
This is why I keep myself so closed off. This is why I would rather be by myself because if you're by yourself to begin with then you don't face any false hopes or expectations that can later sting you with a disappointing follow through that can either make you or break you. (In my case, break you to start the re-ascending back into the dark place. My dark place.)
And I was right to.
You know the couple posts that I wrote in tribute to my great friend that I had? The friend that I put my trust in because I thought that she would never treat me the way other people have? My blog has become of great importance to me because it's the one space where I can think freely with the braveness anonymity through pseudonym gives me without having to fear judgment because the people in my life are not privy to these dark thoughts. And I chose to write about her a couple times in gratitude for helping me with my fragile and unstable state of mind such as in the entries Uplifted Gratitude and Irate Fury Extinguishing And Post Thought Semiotics. For me to reach out like this as to include her in the archiving of my emotional life is a very big feat for me. And to be honest, after the series of events that have happened after such a sort period of time of a weekend I will have to admit that this is the same friend of whom I chose to rant about in Unbelievable.
Where do I even begin? I don't even know what happened. I don't even know where to begin. My emotions are just a big circulating cloud filled with at first hurt, then to be succeeded by trying patience, then finishing with frustrating anger and then ultimately happy and consensual filtering out after realizing the degradation from treatment of the other and the brutally and truthful revealing fact that I don't need this at all. (Mind you this is all with an air of confusion thrown into every corner but ultimately coming to a cathartic conclusion.)
But I can tell you, for me, there is a certain point where I stop trying. I really do hate how I can never just NOT be the bigger person. It's rooted in my blood from my mother for I know how good-hearted she is and thus with a good heart follows life long vulnerability that results in perpetual pain.
I have tried all that I could have in this friendship. I have given my all. I am the kind of person that believes in trying to make something work until it absolutely cannot anymore. And when it can't I absolutely cut all ties to move forward and start a new. (I don't like going backwards or going in any motion resembling the past remember?)
This weekend I swallowed my pride and humiliated myself by stooping so low as to maniacally try to reach contact that would resemble stalker status. (Trust me, not one of my finer moments. But with a passionate personality in terms of importance in life, I hope it's understandable and forgiven) I guess I haven't completely lost my will for upright and immediate confrontation to solve a problem. Fight or flight right? I would rather solve something immediately so that I can put it out of my mind because I hate having things in the back of my mind. But doesn't anyone?
Now that I have had time to process everything. I can honestly say, I am okay now. Actually more than okay and I am never going to put myself in that situation ever again. I don't ever want to be subject to that impossible and immature drama ever again. I don't need it in my life. I have lived too hard to become the person I am today with my own standards in decorum to resort to having to deal with anything I initially would never have dealt with had it not been for a friend of significance. (that's my problem, I'm too empathetic and thus a push over and it needs to stop. Believe me I'm trying, but it's harder than it seems.) So I am done with it. I've been told that I need to value myself more and to know what I'm worth. And it's true. I need to value myself and understand that I shouldn't be treated that way with such disrespect after really trying. Really, I have said it time and time again, how can people knowingly be so cruel with no moral conscience or guilt to try to guide them? Shouldn't a person receive some compassion toward their good intentions? Yeah, but the fucked up world doesn't see it as so. The world fucks you, and then when it's done, it fucks you all over again.
I am not saying she's a terrible person or a bad friend at all. As I have once stated, she was actually one of the best friends I have ever had. But what I am saying is that people should not treat people cruelly the way that they do. It's just not right. It's morally not right to treat some one badly whether it be out of passive aggression just because you feel like you've been wronged or for any other reason. It's not right to behave like that. I look at certain people and I think, what kind of person are you to behave in such a way and how can people really be like that? Maybe I believe too much in common courtesy, etiquette and mutual respect between people. (I probably do, no, I do.) The world shouldn't be like that and we're old enough to be able to know and understand concepts and notions. That's the thing, We're old enough to know. Things should be looked at at different angles rather than just one. Hence my loathing for my environment, but that's a different story neither here nor there.
And thus,
I am over trying. I've given all that I could have and I've nothing left to give. All to try to salvage a very important friendship, at least in my opinion, that I cherished. I've lost my dignity in the process of the weekend. But now I'm taking it back. I did want to still be the bigger person and try, but I am thus making myself pathetic in the process and I won't do it anymore. (God I really do feel pathetic after reflecting over my behaviour, but not anymore now that I am coming back to myself) So I'm done with this. There is only so much patience a person can have and only so much a person can try and give. So I'm walking away.
The thing is, I'll most definitely without a doubt be okay, but will you?
It's such a shame for the loss of something great, but you keep moving forward.
I feel much better and that a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. Amazing thing the process of "cleaning out," whether it be figuratively or literally, can do to a person to make them feel new again. Haha I know, I'm full on twisted right? People hate how I can never go backwards, but personally, I love it. It makes me feel brand new and fresh again to be ready for new possibility and opportunity. And tomorrow I know I will wake up lighthearted and start a new day. Cheers lovers, hope everyone is having a fantastic day.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Bright Orange Oranges And Crimson Blood
So I like to eat oranges. Really sour ones at that. Usually I peel the oranges by slicing the skin with a knife so that I can proceed to peal the rest and savour the sour juiciness of the Vitamin C enriched goodness. Today as I was trying to peel my second orange, the too careless and clumsy person that I am, I managed to literally slice my left index finger with a very sharp kitchen knife.
It wasn't a downward slicing motion but rather a hard, very quick, deep press into my finger, but I would call it a slice rather than a cut nonetheless. A cut is too shallow and minute. I have to admit that when it happened, the first thought that went through my mind was shit, then to be followed by an indifferent emotion. For one thing, my very unfortunate consensual mishap that occurred last September in the entries of Fuck My Life and Back In The Dark Place- Major Relapse (Warning: dark and unstable entries) has left me with a very ugly scar that I now wish was never there because it does cause too much unwanted speculation from others and a waste of my own breath for loathed explication. It's not so much my vanity with the great number of scares that inhabit my body, though it is with this obvious one as I have slowly learned with time and age the importance of taking care of one's body from acknowledged lack of resilience, but more so the questions from others that I would very much rather not have to deal with since I prefer not to deal with people in general. And now I am doing the best I can to make it heal better, though I know and fear it may be impossible for the severe damage I had done to myself, but I can only hope it will get better even if so many months have passed and I am still left with a severe unflattering and pink fleshy scar.
As for my finger incident, I didn't know what to feel as I never know what to feel by unexpected and sudden bodily mutilation that was not self induced and consented. I don't know whether I am happy or kicking myself in the ass for my clumsiness. But as I saw the blood gushing out of my finger I couldn't help but be attracted to continue the full on examination of my finger and the clean and deep slit that had been accidentally made. Also, I love bandages, so not so bad.
I have heard, and may have mentioned before, that when the body gets hurt or say cut, the brain releases endorphin-like chemicals to make yourself feel good. So maybe that is the reason why such things hurt so good to me and how I entirely prefer external pain rather than internal pain.
After acknowledging how clean the cut was and understanding that it would heal the right way, I confess that my masochistic preferences kicked in and I wasn't sad. When these things happen they are of no great significance to me as I am one of the most clumsiest persons you will ever know.
When the blade pressed down into my finger with such quick efficiency, I can tell you that I actually did not feel it as one would've. I actually didn't feel it at all. And I don't know whether to be surprised or astonished at my own nerve endings. Maybe because it happened to quickly, or maybe it was my tolerance for physical pain. But I thought that was pretty exciting to share since it has really been a while since I have spoken about that hidden part of me especially since my different emotional sides often seem to be competing with each other and usually one wins out of the other.
Cheers.
It wasn't a downward slicing motion but rather a hard, very quick, deep press into my finger, but I would call it a slice rather than a cut nonetheless. A cut is too shallow and minute. I have to admit that when it happened, the first thought that went through my mind was shit, then to be followed by an indifferent emotion. For one thing, my very unfortunate consensual mishap that occurred last September in the entries of Fuck My Life and Back In The Dark Place- Major Relapse (Warning: dark and unstable entries) has left me with a very ugly scar that I now wish was never there because it does cause too much unwanted speculation from others and a waste of my own breath for loathed explication. It's not so much my vanity with the great number of scares that inhabit my body, though it is with this obvious one as I have slowly learned with time and age the importance of taking care of one's body from acknowledged lack of resilience, but more so the questions from others that I would very much rather not have to deal with since I prefer not to deal with people in general. And now I am doing the best I can to make it heal better, though I know and fear it may be impossible for the severe damage I had done to myself, but I can only hope it will get better even if so many months have passed and I am still left with a severe unflattering and pink fleshy scar.
As for my finger incident, I didn't know what to feel as I never know what to feel by unexpected and sudden bodily mutilation that was not self induced and consented. I don't know whether I am happy or kicking myself in the ass for my clumsiness. But as I saw the blood gushing out of my finger I couldn't help but be attracted to continue the full on examination of my finger and the clean and deep slit that had been accidentally made. Also, I love bandages, so not so bad.
I have heard, and may have mentioned before, that when the body gets hurt or say cut, the brain releases endorphin-like chemicals to make yourself feel good. So maybe that is the reason why such things hurt so good to me and how I entirely prefer external pain rather than internal pain.
After acknowledging how clean the cut was and understanding that it would heal the right way, I confess that my masochistic preferences kicked in and I wasn't sad. When these things happen they are of no great significance to me as I am one of the most clumsiest persons you will ever know.
When the blade pressed down into my finger with such quick efficiency, I can tell you that I actually did not feel it as one would've. I actually didn't feel it at all. And I don't know whether to be surprised or astonished at my own nerve endings. Maybe because it happened to quickly, or maybe it was my tolerance for physical pain. But I thought that was pretty exciting to share since it has really been a while since I have spoken about that hidden part of me especially since my different emotional sides often seem to be competing with each other and usually one wins out of the other.
Cheers.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Transcendence
I wish that I could be transported to the pristine and beautiful world that is slower and simpler that my heart desperately wishes for. One that relishes in the moments that take your breath away. That one ideal place in my mind that I find myself constantly longing for and hoping I get to dream about as I sleep.The romanticist in me craves a time period in a place that doesn't seem to exist anymore.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Remember Happy Friday? Remember The Entry Before It?
Relate everything back together.
Whatever.
Nobody ever really cares.
In the end all you have is yourself.
Cosmic psychoanalysis.
I try way too hard.
It can't be helped.
I roller coaster way too hard.
It can't be helped.
Just one.
Fuck it.
I'm so over it.
Back to reclusivity.
This shit's dunzo.
Whatever.
Nobody ever really cares.
In the end all you have is yourself.
Cosmic psychoanalysis.
I try way too hard.
It can't be helped.
I roller coaster way too hard.
It can't be helped.
Just one.
Fuck it.
I'm so over it.
Back to reclusivity.
This shit's dunzo.
Unbelievable
I am at a loss for words right now as I am sitting here with shock and increasing numbness, but all I can say is that I feel like crying so badly. Mind you this has absolutely nothing to do with the previous post. This is a whole different situation all on its own. But everything to do with the fragility of my own crazy mind. Fuck. I actually have tears steaming down my face which seems almost insane and nonsensical because I never have been able to cry when I have felt like it or really wanted to for relief. Talk about the miraculous workings of frustration and anxiety mixed in with disbelief and being utterly thrown off. Thanks, a lot. Fuck.
I need a hard drink and a Marlboro.
I need a hard drink and a Marlboro.
The Transient
Sometimes it is so extraordinarily unbelievable just how fleeting friends can be and how quick they are to forget you or the importance the friendship ever meant.
I make it a point never to ever disregard or take any of the people who have ever been kind to me. I always try to treat everyone with kindness and compassion that is paved with good intentions even if my attitude seems to be less than desirable since I tend to implement a tough love sort of rule. But it doesn't mean I care any less or don't weigh a heavy conscience. Granted I am definitely not perfect. In fact I am hopelessly flawed and the very epitome of imperfection, but I would can say that I am too empathetic. It is just so disheartening when people you've once cared about so deeply somehow manage to discard you so easily without their conscience to guide them. The bigger problem is how forgiving I am.
Such as the continuum of life, one can only move forward and never go back.
I relate that to words I live by. Keep moving forward in progress because I don't ever go backwards, only fowards. Not just because I don't like to repeat the past or be near any resemblance of it (it makes me literally feel sick from the result of other psychological issues I'll leave up to interpretation), but I believe that you should leave the past where it belongs and forge your own and new way since nothing is ever the same twice.
I make it a point never to ever disregard or take any of the people who have ever been kind to me. I always try to treat everyone with kindness and compassion that is paved with good intentions even if my attitude seems to be less than desirable since I tend to implement a tough love sort of rule. But it doesn't mean I care any less or don't weigh a heavy conscience. Granted I am definitely not perfect. In fact I am hopelessly flawed and the very epitome of imperfection, but I would can say that I am too empathetic. It is just so disheartening when people you've once cared about so deeply somehow manage to discard you so easily without their conscience to guide them. The bigger problem is how forgiving I am.
Such as the continuum of life, one can only move forward and never go back.
I relate that to words I live by. Keep moving forward in progress because I don't ever go backwards, only fowards. Not just because I don't like to repeat the past or be near any resemblance of it (it makes me literally feel sick from the result of other psychological issues I'll leave up to interpretation), but I believe that you should leave the past where it belongs and forge your own and new way since nothing is ever the same twice.
Happy Friday
Okay so, a couple of days ago I had written a couple of drafts about my inner thoughts and what not, but then I decided not to publish them. One of them was just a passing irrational yet truthful sentiment, while the other one spoke about something new. The something new was my change in mood. I thought that there might have been a glimmer of my old self and wit returning back to me. I felt hopeful and somehow that that fire that has always been in me (though recently, okay not recently but for several months, dimished) had somehow slowly began to reegnite and I felt really good about that. I actually felt renewed and argumentative. (Yes argumentative may sound bad, but it caused me to not want to remain silent but to have the want to speak up and discuss anything and everything therefore resulting in the perfection of further progress in my existential self.) I was actually motivated to speak out and converse with everyone when for the past several months I have resorted to being reclusive because of high preference.
I decided not to publish that progressive entry because my thoughts had been interrupted at the moment and I felt that I could not give the entry the respected evaluation and perfection I feel that most of my entries require from me in order to actually publish them for everyone to read, judge, and examine. Although I divulge this occurence, I also do have to admit that I also wrote that I was afraid. I was and still am afraid that my new and rising "good and happy" emotions are just passing sentiments that at any moment pose the unfortunate and high probability to be taken away from me. Since everything I have ever known the bottom has fallen out of. I feel that every time I have the slightest chance of becoming relieved and in any way lighter and carefree, that something out there, some cosmic force out there sends a signal warning the universe of my possible bliss. Thus setting in motion the mission to restore the balance to make things shitty again for me. "It's natural for things to be shitty" right? Yeah, but it doesn't make things any fucking more better in the meantime.
The problem is, I am always afraid to get my hopes up for fear of massive disappointment. I guess I have a displacement psychological issue in that I put so much hope and expectation in semi-minor things (this is a defense and replacement for other deep rooted issues I would rather avoid) and when something does not go perfectly the way that I hoped it would be, then I get immensely low and start to sink.
It is seriously insane how so many thoughts and emotions can come and go (seriously when I say I'm like an emotional rollercoaster, I am not joking) in just a matter of days. I was feeling great up until it suddenly hit me (as my erratic emotions often do for no apparent reason that I can fathom) that I lost my lightness. I've tried to make sense of how my emotions can just alter in an instant, but honestly I don't even understand it after my constant and cyclic trials of evaluations, reevaluations, and revelations. Maybe this would have been better explained had I not been too chickenshit to follow up with my counselor appointment. Hah.
But I do have to admit that usually I'm at at a 7, but today I am at a 6. Which is not as bad. As you can see I am willing to virtually archive my sentiments and I can see that they are slowly becoming more personalized instead of bland and general, so that must be something spectacular worth mentioning. Usually when I am feeling too low, I lose complete agency, even the want to record my thoughts because when I am low I would rather try to avoid and repress to be as far from my cloud of crazy inner thoughts as possible and not do anything. Recording would mean having to type which would therefore require action and motivation which obviously I lack when I am low. Most of the time I just want to block everything out since the world is filled with mindless idiotic droits who are a waste of a life that make me feel like I am surrounded by stupid people all the time so much that it actually contributes to my ever so lovely recluse habit that I am so terribly fond of.
Having my words right in front of me as I type transcends me into a world of my own mind blocking out the outside world (I rather love that part, just one of the great appeals writing does have) leaving anything open to discussion. But with the loss of agency when I am low (I realize I am using the word low in major repetition but I prefer not to use the overtly publicized and overrated word depressed/depression right now), everything is self contradictory. As you can see, it is easy for me to ramble on and on and I never seem to make any sense or stay on the topic I originally started with. This must drive many people crazy, but these are my thoughts so too bad. Haha.
And with all that said, lately, it seems like all I have been wanting to do is write. Write Write Write. All my felt emotions every moment I can. How incredibly incandescently love is that? Mind you I have always said that I don't even know if I can write, or who would ever even want to read my writing because in my mind writers hold a certain standard to the level of artist in my opinion and I have always thought that I never had an artistic bone in my body. (Believe me I can't even color and my drawings are terribly rudimentary) I hold form of writing up on a pedastal to say that it is a type of art that is immensely beautiful. I started this blog as an experiment and reflection for not only myself to look back on and evaluate, but also for feedback of community to help my wanted development.
But I guess writing is writing. And this is writing. (What do you think?) A formulation of specific said thoughts, ideas, and theories placed together in an incredibly calculated way to convey the outcome of perfection of what one (one being me since this is my blog and my own words) really wanted to articulate to begin with, but also in the process allowing the opening up of further exploration of the mind and soul for newer hypothesises and sentiments. Can I say that I am a writer? I am not sure about that or if I have the confidence for that conviction, but what I can say is that before I did not even know if I wanted to be a writer, but now, the idea and possibility is beginning to be more and more optimistically appealing, attainable, and possible. And that feeling is definitely a surpassing revelation.
The problem is, I am not privy to a computer in the majority of my day in which I experience these emotions and by the time that I am, the emotions will have already diminished and the want to record will have gone. Hence the lack of constant entries that contradict my craving to discuss everything virtually.
Yet, as you can see, or at least I have noticed. I feel that my personality is coming back into myself and therefore it is apparent in my writing. With all of that derangement examined and discussed. I am very happy and light today (as I am every Friday since that means a whole free weekend of nothingness and no responsibility from obligations). Every Friday that I wake up great I just want to announce Happy Friday and send it everywhere I possibly can.
I would have to say, some of what I wrote was pretty beautiful in my opinion. (Oh look at that? maybe my profound false confidence may be returning along with my wit and comedic bitter sarcasm as well. I may have just found a way back. Cheers.)
So with all of my broken love, take a sweet kiss and a closed mouth smile. Happy Friday you poor unfortunate kindred souls. <3
I decided not to publish that progressive entry because my thoughts had been interrupted at the moment and I felt that I could not give the entry the respected evaluation and perfection I feel that most of my entries require from me in order to actually publish them for everyone to read, judge, and examine. Although I divulge this occurence, I also do have to admit that I also wrote that I was afraid. I was and still am afraid that my new and rising "good and happy" emotions are just passing sentiments that at any moment pose the unfortunate and high probability to be taken away from me. Since everything I have ever known the bottom has fallen out of. I feel that every time I have the slightest chance of becoming relieved and in any way lighter and carefree, that something out there, some cosmic force out there sends a signal warning the universe of my possible bliss. Thus setting in motion the mission to restore the balance to make things shitty again for me. "It's natural for things to be shitty" right? Yeah, but it doesn't make things any fucking more better in the meantime.
The problem is, I am always afraid to get my hopes up for fear of massive disappointment. I guess I have a displacement psychological issue in that I put so much hope and expectation in semi-minor things (this is a defense and replacement for other deep rooted issues I would rather avoid) and when something does not go perfectly the way that I hoped it would be, then I get immensely low and start to sink.
It is seriously insane how so many thoughts and emotions can come and go (seriously when I say I'm like an emotional rollercoaster, I am not joking) in just a matter of days. I was feeling great up until it suddenly hit me (as my erratic emotions often do for no apparent reason that I can fathom) that I lost my lightness. I've tried to make sense of how my emotions can just alter in an instant, but honestly I don't even understand it after my constant and cyclic trials of evaluations, reevaluations, and revelations. Maybe this would have been better explained had I not been too chickenshit to follow up with my counselor appointment. Hah.
But I do have to admit that usually I'm at at a 7, but today I am at a 6. Which is not as bad. As you can see I am willing to virtually archive my sentiments and I can see that they are slowly becoming more personalized instead of bland and general, so that must be something spectacular worth mentioning. Usually when I am feeling too low, I lose complete agency, even the want to record my thoughts because when I am low I would rather try to avoid and repress to be as far from my cloud of crazy inner thoughts as possible and not do anything. Recording would mean having to type which would therefore require action and motivation which obviously I lack when I am low. Most of the time I just want to block everything out since the world is filled with mindless idiotic droits who are a waste of a life that make me feel like I am surrounded by stupid people all the time so much that it actually contributes to my ever so lovely recluse habit that I am so terribly fond of.
Having my words right in front of me as I type transcends me into a world of my own mind blocking out the outside world (I rather love that part, just one of the great appeals writing does have) leaving anything open to discussion. But with the loss of agency when I am low (I realize I am using the word low in major repetition but I prefer not to use the overtly publicized and overrated word depressed/depression right now), everything is self contradictory. As you can see, it is easy for me to ramble on and on and I never seem to make any sense or stay on the topic I originally started with. This must drive many people crazy, but these are my thoughts so too bad. Haha.
And with all that said, lately, it seems like all I have been wanting to do is write. Write Write Write. All my felt emotions every moment I can. How incredibly incandescently love is that? Mind you I have always said that I don't even know if I can write, or who would ever even want to read my writing because in my mind writers hold a certain standard to the level of artist in my opinion and I have always thought that I never had an artistic bone in my body. (Believe me I can't even color and my drawings are terribly rudimentary) I hold form of writing up on a pedastal to say that it is a type of art that is immensely beautiful. I started this blog as an experiment and reflection for not only myself to look back on and evaluate, but also for feedback of community to help my wanted development.
But I guess writing is writing. And this is writing. (What do you think?) A formulation of specific said thoughts, ideas, and theories placed together in an incredibly calculated way to convey the outcome of perfection of what one (one being me since this is my blog and my own words) really wanted to articulate to begin with, but also in the process allowing the opening up of further exploration of the mind and soul for newer hypothesises and sentiments. Can I say that I am a writer? I am not sure about that or if I have the confidence for that conviction, but what I can say is that before I did not even know if I wanted to be a writer, but now, the idea and possibility is beginning to be more and more optimistically appealing, attainable, and possible. And that feeling is definitely a surpassing revelation.
The problem is, I am not privy to a computer in the majority of my day in which I experience these emotions and by the time that I am, the emotions will have already diminished and the want to record will have gone. Hence the lack of constant entries that contradict my craving to discuss everything virtually.
Yet, as you can see, or at least I have noticed. I feel that my personality is coming back into myself and therefore it is apparent in my writing. With all of that derangement examined and discussed. I am very happy and light today (as I am every Friday since that means a whole free weekend of nothingness and no responsibility from obligations). Every Friday that I wake up great I just want to announce Happy Friday and send it everywhere I possibly can.
I would have to say, some of what I wrote was pretty beautiful in my opinion. (Oh look at that? maybe my profound false confidence may be returning along with my wit and comedic bitter sarcasm as well. I may have just found a way back. Cheers.)
So with all of my broken love, take a sweet kiss and a closed mouth smile. Happy Friday you poor unfortunate kindred souls. <3
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