Disappointing Disrespect

It's the second time. The second time I trusted them and they let me down. They apparently don't care about our friendship. They blatantly let me down and are now pretending like nothing has happened. Well, I will be civil and see them once in a while, but they aren'y worth my time. People that pull you down over and over are not worth it. I've tried and put in the most amount of effort, but I am exhausted in every possible way.

Something Different

I’ve had enough ranting about my messed up life for a while. All of that is superficial and I’ve realized that no matter how hard I try to fix everything, there will always be something that I am not happy with. It’s just life, and as cheesy as it is, its true; it will get better.

So, on to other pressing matters. Not really. But it is something I have been thinking about lately.

I love to write. I guess it runs in the family because both my dad and my sister love to write. My sister was the editor of our college’s newspaper and now, after she graduated she helps organize and write for a blog of graduates and early career starters. I am definitely not as good as her but it is still something I love to do. I may not have all the mechanics down and rules of grammar, but it make me happy. For me, writing is an out for any type of stress or confusion (music is the same way for me but that will be another post).  It gives m freedom to say what I want. Because I am not the most vocal about my feelings and like to keep stuff bottled up and drama free, writing is there for me to let it out. The English language can be beautiful and life changing. One sentence can be influential in someone’s life. I want to always strive to do that someone else because I have had that with many writers and poets. Creating something that has never been said before is exhilarating. It’s your own. You created it into being. Writing is an outlet for words to be put together. I also believe they are meant to be shared. Although I don’t read enough, publishing is necessary. Writing is necessary for people to gain knowledge, necessary for creativeness, and even for emotions. It gets people to think (like I hope this post is doing!). Writing is everything or whatever you need it to be for yourself. So I will continue to do it. When I need break, I will pull up a blank document or pull out a pen and paper. And write.

The Hardest of Days

If I’m writing honest, today was by far the worst day this summer. Let’s begin with this morning. I woke up late and felt groggy all morning. I say woke up late because I was supposed to take a test for my online history class at 10:00am. But instead I took it at 11:30. Not only that but when I went to submit the test, something must have happened and I am still not sure to this minute if my professor has my answers to the test, and we only get to take it once. On to the next thing; I was hoping to get some money for some books that I used last semester. I went to school and how much money do I get for 5 books? 7 fricken dollars, not ok. (That is superficial but hey, I paid quite a bit more for them then that). The next thing was more sad then frustrating. Maggie is leaving tomorrow for Ghana. I won’t see her for 7 months. Today I had to say goodbye and it wasn’t pretty. That’s all about that. And last but not least, at the dinner table we talked about my dog. She is a very old and showing signs of that “oldness” that are becoming more and more apparent. Of course my mom cried and wanted us all to go to the vet to find out all the problems that she has. That dog has been with us for 13 years. That is 13 years of my 19 years. I was 6 when we got her for Christmas and now I’m not sure she will be with me while I go on to my 20^th year. So that was my day today. Thank you for reading my rant. It is much appreciated. I am now going to play music, then surround myself in pillows and watch movies. What a fun Friday night, huh?

Current State

"Vous Etes Mon Coure (You Are My Heart)"

Gungor

Where have you hidden yourself oh my beloved
You fled having wounded
I pursued but you had gone

In search of you my darling I would scale the highest clouds
Scour wooded valleys, roaring torrents whispering gales

Vous etes mon coeur

When you first regarded me
Your eyes filled me with grace
Thereby again my eyes
Merited to adore you

Vous etes mon coeur

Live On

This Is Not The End 

Gungor

This is not the end

This is not the end of this

We will open our eyes wide, wider

This is not our last

This is not our last breath

We will open our mouths wide, wider

And you know you’ll be alright

Oh and you know you’ll be alright

This is not the end

This is not the end of us

We will shine like the stars bright, brighter

It's Gotten to This Point...

Current State: "There are days when I wake up and I don't know what I'm doing here. I barely recognize the pair of eyes staring back at me in the mirror."

Have you ever watched a movie because you know it makes you cry and you need to just cry?

I wonder what goes through normal people’s minds when something that had happened in the past comes back and bites them in the butt? For me, I try not to care. Of course I’m not good at it but yet, I try. Not only have my insecurities taken over my whole damn life, but also I’ve come to realize they will never leave. When I go somewhere public I think everyone is looking at me. And what does that make me do? Put on a show. Do things I wouldn’t normally, not pay attention to what I’m working on, constantly think they are watching me. It’s a major problem and at this point in my life, its not going away anytime soon.

I sulk. I veg. I am numb. For the past two weeks nothing has changed. I think about what happened right before summer all the time. It takes over every thought I have. It’s all around me. When I check Facebook, I see all of the them with their green dots. They are all probably talking, I think. On Twitter they post pictures of their conversations and trips they went on together. Again. Without telling me. And yet I act the same, I act like nothing changed. This summer did nothing for our relationships. I don’t know why I stay. No, I actually do. It’s the damn trust issues. I can’t sleep without knowing that there are people that think about me. I need that. I stay and talk because I need the connection. I want to feel like I am wanted here in this world. This world full of connections. This world of over 6 billion. This world of quiet rage. This world of holding it in.  This world of letting it out.

Have you ever watched a movie because you know it makes you cry and you need to just cry?

Numb

I don’t really know what is happening to me. This is not me over analyzing like I usually do. I just don’t feel right now, if that makes any sense. I’m numb. Numb to everyone. Numb to my parents lives, numb to my friends (although I do hang out with them often), numb to my sister and her new boyfriend, just numb. I’m sure others have gone through this same feeling. It’s just weird because of how I got here. I’ve never had the experiences before and they hurt. More than ever I don’t care. And that is not right. I know me, and caring is what I do. I’m not tooting my own horn but caring is what I was made to do. I feel numb to the outside world. Everything I am doing. And that’s what’s weird. I am doing but I am not feeling. Not being pulled in one direction, not wanting to move anywhere. Stuck. Stuck and numb.

It’s not a good combination.