Be kind to myself.

Here I am, as I flit with inconsistency. I try to look at why I don’t enjoy writing, why I don’t enjoy painting, why even though I recently picked up gaming again (a childhood pleasure of mine) when I added streaming and putting my humor and work for others, it wasn’t the need to be liked that scared me, it was the constant “I’m not good enough” the “fear of failure”.

Looking at this blog that I haphazardly started, just to document my time through university brought me so much joy. Thank you to the show Awkward for that. I didn’t put pressure on myself to preform, to please others, I started it for me, even though I have changed through the years, I still enjoy the activities I have picked up. I also have noticed the majority of the activities that I did pick up were very lonely, don’t get me wrong love my me time. But what dipping my toes into the virtual world again taught me, is that I love connecting with people.

My really good friend told me something that stuck with me forever, “Learning from other people’s experience and stories is probably the best way to learn.”

We both connected on that and I realized that it was one of the reasons I liked talking to people so much, and now (for me) realizing that physical face to face conversation aren’t the only thing that offers that kind of connection. And I also realized only recently, as much as I look to others to learn from, people do even if it be a few, look to me to learn from as well. And brings me happiness is being able to help someone from my struggles and past so that they hurt a little less going through life.

So rather than treating each work or piece as my ride or die activity, I’m reminding myself to enjoy the things I enjoy and take time put together my works to help others. I will remind myself today and onwards to treat myself with kindness as I treat others. Slowly turning down the volume on my own critiquing.

Wish to be me

When I cry I feel like the world doesn’t exist.

I’m in a vacuum of my own emotions, speaking to myself

the words I choose to say vary between how I feel about myself.

Victim

Failure

Resilient

Ever-growing

Evolving

Changing.

I think we are constantly changing, every experience shifts us.

We learn, and grow and adapt to new ways.

But I realized, for a long time I was adapting to survive, to blend in, to pass on by not being noticed, not stirring trouble.

I wonder why that was.

Trauma, I know why.

But I choose not to. Not anymore.

I want to take up space, I want to hear the echoes of my voice, I want to see the color drip from my fingers, the vibrations of the plates beneath my feet. Feel the healing glow from the past to the now.

I want to sit in my emotions, feel it with my soul, whether I cry or laugh, I want to be present with who I am. And who I am becoming.

I wish to be me, wholly.

Story.

Used and abused.
Do you not know of any consequence.
Tearing though the mind of a young girl
Grimey and gross, filled with guilt
Did i do this? she questions
“don’t speak” she was told
Her justice never found.
Her story never repeated.
He walks. A clear conscious
While she bears the scars
On her wrists
Forever forgotten.
“don’t speak”

 

Scared..

It’s so scary to like someone, you know wholeheartedly. It’s scary to know there is a person who fits your standards, and to realize your standards weren’t false. It’s scary to think where this could all go. It’s scary to think if this is going to end within a day. It’s scary to try.

After day 1, and after everything that has happened. It’s so weird to meet someone like me but also different. I’m not sure how I feel about him being so similar to me because it’s so strange to say I feel like I like him because he reminds me of me. Isn’t that a little to narcissistic.

I spent four days with this guy and I don’t know how I feel. But somehow I broke down by the second day and told this guy, the first ever male in my life who wasn’t family my deepest darkest secret, that has made me the person I am today. The cynical, distrusting, bitch that I am. One part of me is so glad for the person I have become, but the other always questions what I could have been. After I broke down, so did he. And we both agreed because of the fact we put so much trust and faith into other which we normally wouldn’t have done with someone we barely knew, there had to have been something there. Sunday morning, we were dating, I guess. haha. Neither of us wanted to admit it. But we’re a couple, and I still cringe thinking about it.

But I still for sure know that I’m scared, and probably always will be scared.

 

 

This Again?

Oh how the tinder world is so bizarre.

Over the Winter Break I somehow found myself re-installing the dreaded tinder app. Yay. I was back in a bigger city and for the first five days I was home, I really wasn’t into meeting with people and talking about how our lives have been. I mean I just spent the last two weeks living in a library studying for finals, it’s not like I’ve been doing much.

But I still went on and still swiped (how much I’m hating myself as I’m writing this) and matched. I don’t really go on to talk to people, I typically do it because I’m bored and wanted to kill time. But that’s a pretty rude thing to say to a person when they are the first to talk. 

About Time.

When I watch something I always tend to skip bits throughout. The minor details not worth pining over.

So when I came home at 4 in the morning I still wasn’t ready for sleep. And thus picked a quick movie to watch off of Netflix. Little did I know that I now would be sitting here at 6:29am writing about how I’m in tears over this movie. 

Living.

For a girl who spent the last four months living with people she didn’t know. Having a random guy be in the kitchen cooking 3 meters away from her room, this little princess was out of her comfort zone.

My last place was a complete mess.

Why?

Because no body gave a rat’s ass about the pig sty we were living in. None of us knew each other, and one girl had the audacity to let her boyfriend stay over every other week. I deliberately picked a place with all girls so that I didn’t have to worry about walking out of the shower to meet in the hall with a guy. Thank you very much.

But finally that is over and I am living with my friends now. And all I can say is that I am so glad to be living with friends. I honestly don’t know how people can live with others that they don’t know. Living alone is a different story but just living with random people I don’t think I can ever do that again; There was a ginger in it’s packaging on the counter top for 4+ weeks sprouting another stem. That’s how many shits were given at my place. And the funny thing is when friends asked to sleep over I told them not to because my place was filthy. No one believed how bad it could be until they took a step inside and saw their white socks turn black.

Alas living with friends isn’t all peaches and cream either. There’s the constant food mix ups, things getting tossed or used that you didn’t know about. Talking for long hours without getting work done, impromptu game/food/drinking/talking night (this sucks when its more than 2 days in a row). Cooking at the same time, and cleaning. Oh and sex too! I haven’t had to bear through it yet, but I know that when the day comes, it’s going to be hell.

But so far for now I am loving coming home to friends, and sharing my time with them. It truly is a second home.

Death.

Just a couple days ago was the death of my father’s boss. Why does it matter?
Because to me, that man was more of a grandfather to me, than the two I already had. And it sucks as one grows up they tend to not visit people as much as they should.

I remember when I was younger I saw him once at least every summer. But was also before I left the city for school and before he continuously fell ill. But you know I could have seen him in the past two years. But bad people and bad timing stalled the whole process.

Even though we slowly drifted apart I was glad that I did call him and talked to him, because the moment my father called me to tell me that his boss has passed, I quickly thought back to the last possible time I talked to him. And then realized that what if…

Just what if that we didn’t end on good terms, It’s already too late. The person is dead, and there is nothing that anyone can do about it now. That other person will leave the world thinking that you were mad at them, or they’re still mad at you.

Aside from that, I have never had any too close to me pass, and I think this may be the first for me. Just the thought of the person is no more doesn’t seem to phase me. Also probably because the idea of that seems ridiculous; until it isn’t.

A T(ex)t.

Finally receiving a text after a week was the result of the unannounced presence of Tinder guy’s ex girlfriend. He decided to not voice what the hell was happening in his life.

Which obviously boosted my ego.
Fucker.

So finally he apologized for not saying anything, told me it wasn’t my fault, doesn’t know what is happening in his life, doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t want to see anyone, BUT he did ask for coffee. That’s a plus. Right? (The angry sarcasm is very real today)

So I accepted the coffee invite, I mean what else am I suppose to say. I genuinely hate being held in the dark and FINALLY he’s owning up to the shit that’s happening in his life. Good.

I do have to say I am a little upset, I’ve come to accept the fact that I don’t like guys

1. who are my age 
&
2. who are attending school

Great rules right. Ugh. Anyways I don’t think I even have to mention that I hate his ex. Well strongly dislike her. But when the coffee date is set it’s basically goodbye.

I can rant for so much longer but I’m legit trying to just get over this at this point already. 

Regrets. Regrets. Regrets.

Clearly it’s been just a shitty week. After everything that has happened. I had to go and get drunk on a Monday night and officially have my one night stand. Sorry bestie, didn’t know it was going to happen, so I couldn’t bring my “One Night Stand Kit” with me.

I actually was suppose to go out with my bestie to grab dinner (In Tinder Guy’s area) since it’s a little out of town. But turns out the place is fucking closed on Mondays. Just why. Why?

So we decide to grab wings and beer because we were starving. We sit down, and it was a good time. Though me and my bestie take forever to leave since we sit there and talk. So the exceptionally close table beside us of two males finally leave and they bring in the next two customers. Which happens to be my friend’s EX BOYFRIEND with his FIRST DATE.

Let me repeat. He was having his first date with his ex girlfriend sitting LESS THAN A METER AWAY FROM HIM. I died. My bestie hated me for the rest of the night. We got snippets of their conversation, which was terribleehh by the way. But none the less a good pick me up.

So after dinner my bestie runs home to study for her mid-terms and since I have a much easier load I had nothing to worry about. And so I think it’s a great idea to message this guy I knew for a day to go out with me. Why? You ask. I do not know. Fuck I wish I knew.

And thus I go over to his place, drink some more. Head to the club, drink so more. Puke a little because I clearly drank too much. Head back to my place, where we couldn’t fuck because no one had a condom. Yay. Since my clothes were already off, I decided to throw on my trench over my bare body and shove all the clothes I would’ve needed for the morning of, in a bag and we walk over to his place. Obviously there, he couldn’t launch his rocket.

So somehow in my right mind, instead of leaving I just slept at his place. Again don’t ask me why I thought this was okay. Then first thing I get waken up to is this guy beside me, trying to turn me on. Let’s just say he does, 1 minute for that, 10 seconds to grab the condom and put it on, another minute for the deed to be done and bam. Done. He got up and ran off to the bathroom while I had some time to question what the fuck I just did.

I got up and did what I had to do and literally threw on my coat again and tried to say the easiest thing I could possibly say to get out of there. And even now I’m sighing with regret.