Truth be told

No I do NOT want to be an alcoholic.
Yes it IS okay to sleep for 10 hours a day if you can.
No it is NOT okay to be a homophobic assholes who knees my boyfriend in the crotch.

Who the fuck cares if you were molested? So was 1/4th of the population and they are coping fine. Get over it you sick fuck.

Try and stand up for me once in a while here. Maybe you’d find you actually like me again!

I don’t not want to be a part of this anymore.

I am feeling unsatisfied again. I have the urge to move, to get out, and since I can’t I feel stuck. I feel sucked in and am sitting here begging someone, I don’t know who, god, the earth, the eternal light, something, to take me away, to give me the ability to become my own. I need change. I am sick of living off of somebody else. Every dollar I spend I have not earned. I probably sound like a spoiled brat.

I just want to be able to feel like I am worth something. I am sure I am worth a million bucks to at least one person, but to myself all I see is emptiness. There’s a void that is lusting for adventure, for independence. I find myself clinging on to things that never really fill a person. Things like drunken nights. I can’t believe I am actually craving drunken nights. I am craving dance. I am craving crowds, and noise, anything to fill me without me having to do any real work on myself.

I am relying on other materialistic things to keep me afloat. It’s not working.

The one most frustrating part of it all is I don’t know how to fix it. There are a few answers, but none I can work with yet. Hopefully, as time goes by, and money falls into my lap, things will become clearer.

It breaks my heart to know how right you were.

This isn’t the type of thing someone should be allowed to be right about. I’m scared it won’t ever change.

It isn’t fair.

I shouldn’t have to worry about these things.
Maybe her intentions were good.

But good intentions pave the path to hell.
I feel like the one responsible. Like I’m the one taking care of her.
She’s the one who was supposed to raise me.

It kills me to know how much she hates it.
She knows what she’s doing. She can’t help it.
She doesn’t have a choice.

I guess I’ve learned my lesson.

Ever felt like a part of you has disappeared?

We all start out pure it is true. No damage, no tainting, just a body of energy full of curiosity. We show our emotions without question, trusting only our instincts and what we feel to lead us on our way. It isn’t until our environment is introduced that we begin to change. Pieces of clay can be molded into art, or they can be pressed into mush, depending on the makers determination.

I will say happily I was created well. Not by experienced or practiced hands, but by those who have always had the talent, but never the skills. I grew like a willow; branches spiraling out, untrimmed, but beautiful in all it’s organized chaos. And as time went by branches were trimmed back, leaves were plucked, names were carved into the soft bark of my trunk to try and reach my roots. Within time, I have become what I am today.

In high school you begin as a child, and by the end I think everyone leaves with a sense of confidence. Most everyone feels like they’ve managed to mold themselves into something they like. I was one of them. I would never say anything bad about anyone that last year, I looked past myself to see the big picture, I was conscious. The world was beautiful and I was in tune with everything, there was magic all around, and though bad things happened, positivity swirled in the back of my mind at the thought of others circumstances. Of other molders, and other kinds of art. I left high school feeling ready. I wanted to jump into life.

But it changed quickly. I became someone I hated. As I began my independence I could feel the fall. I scraped at the cement wall of it trying to reach my way back to companion-ship. Out of desperation, I broke off my nails and didn’t even notice. I began to gossip, I laughed at other people not even a thought of what might be happening in their life crossing my mind. I tried only to impress, to earn the rights of the pedestal. I became lost in the media, lost in materialism, lost in myself, and the people around me, so much so that I lost sight of anything but the tiny world in which I had become obsessed with.

I regressed. I feel as if I have started again, I am at the beginning of my life again. I am no longer a Freshman though, as I most recently was, now I’m a Junior, in the summer to my Senior. I felt myself slip away from what was most important to me, and somehow I have manged to catch myself. But now I have a problem. I don’t know how to communicate, my confidence is shot, it’s as if I walk into a room and people turn simply to watch as I look at the ground. Why is my chin no longer to the sky where I know it  belongs?

Truth be told though, I know there is hope. As awkward as I feel in a room full of peers, I have found the ability to step outside where the sun has shone on my face, where the wind has swept me up, warm and comforting, with smells of summer, and the promise of rebirth. I look to the sky now, arms outstretched, tasting the sweetness of life and all that comes with it, marveling at the great chaotic plan that we lay out for ourselves. There are many who go their journey with not a look to that sky. Not a scent of summer tickles their nose. The wind only pushes them, never carries. It is the path they must take true, but I am glad and I remind myself everyday just how lucky I am to feel the warmth in a stream instead of the cold. To have carved my own branches, and molded my own sculpture, rather then to have had someone do so for me. Life leads us to a place where we are meant to  be. Good or bad…it is you who must choose whether to be pushed. I have chosen my way. Even if I’ve strayed, the path always finds me again, and I can’t help but be swept off my feet by the seducer called life.

For the coffee cake.

For sleeping in your bed.

For the chocolate milk.

For the sisters.

For the life.

For the love.

For saving me.

For the clothes.

For the muffins.

For the finger nail polish.

For the rides to school.

Disregard the moving.

Disregard the divorce.

Disregard the alcohol.

Disregard the men.

Disregard the man.

Disregard the fights.

Disregard the unreliability.

No one will ever know but you and me.