Monday, March 28, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
I am frickin' tired.
Sunday night I slept for 30 minutes, Monday and Tuesday nights I slept for 2-3 hours, Thursday night I slept for 4 hours, and now guh.
I don't have to wake up early which means I'll sleep till at least 11 which gives me a ton of time to have bad dreams/ dreams I really just don't want to have.
I fucking hate sleep. but, goodnight ):
dnfkjsdkf ):
Sunday night I slept for 30 minutes, Monday and Tuesday nights I slept for 2-3 hours, Thursday night I slept for 4 hours, and now guh.
I don't have to wake up early which means I'll sleep till at least 11 which gives me a ton of time to have bad dreams/ dreams I really just don't want to have.
I fucking hate sleep. but, goodnight ):
dnfkjsdkf ):
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
we're all sleeping in circles or talking shit in diners
Today was pretty fun.
Emily came over at 8am. I had about 20 minutes of sleep. It was fun.
We spent most of the afternoon in and out of cute stores. "Earthy" stores, if you will. It's weird, but today something just kind of clicked. I realized how interested I really am in... "earthy myths"? Cultural healing? Meditation? I've yet to find the proper term to explain all of this, but I'm really interested in it.
I'm gonna take either tomorrow or Thursday to take a better look at this. Yeah, hitting up the library and whatnot. Am I cool yet?
I've just felt really miserable lately. Okay, beyond miserable. No one has any clue about the half of it, even. Not complaining though. I think meditation could help. It feels like I'm missing a lot in my life. Pieces are constantly being thrown around and getting lost in obscure places but I feel like meditation could help. I feel like it has what I'm looking for; a center. A main... thing. A solid base. That's really what I need right now, something to take away from the multiple explosions in my life lately.
Anyway, then I broke my leg in half (but not actually, or even slightly), limped around like an old lady, went to my guitar class in the dark, was recognized by my laugh, spent too much money and got a couple new piercings.
Awesome. Too bad jnfsdjknfsdjkfnd.
I wanna go to sleep early tonight. Like, right now.
TOO BAD I CAN'T
Emily came over at 8am. I had about 20 minutes of sleep. It was fun.
We spent most of the afternoon in and out of cute stores. "Earthy" stores, if you will. It's weird, but today something just kind of clicked. I realized how interested I really am in... "earthy myths"? Cultural healing? Meditation? I've yet to find the proper term to explain all of this, but I'm really interested in it.
I'm gonna take either tomorrow or Thursday to take a better look at this. Yeah, hitting up the library and whatnot. Am I cool yet?
I've just felt really miserable lately. Okay, beyond miserable. No one has any clue about the half of it, even. Not complaining though. I think meditation could help. It feels like I'm missing a lot in my life. Pieces are constantly being thrown around and getting lost in obscure places but I feel like meditation could help. I feel like it has what I'm looking for; a center. A main... thing. A solid base. That's really what I need right now, something to take away from the multiple explosions in my life lately.
Anyway, then I broke my leg in half (but not actually, or even slightly), limped around like an old lady, went to my guitar class in the dark, was recognized by my laugh, spent too much money and got a couple new piercings.
Awesome. Too bad jnfsdjknfsdjkfnd.
I wanna go to sleep early tonight. Like, right now.
TOO BAD I CAN'T
Sunday, March 13, 2011
the pros of not having a social life
So basically, I haven't gone out too much this year.
No shows, no movies, I stopped hanging out at the mall and public places, etc. I pretty much just either stay home or go to friends' houses.
This means I haven't been spending nearly as much money.
...guess who has 300 dolla right now.
Yeah. This girl. I've never had that much money in my life. And I'm making another 20-50 tonight.
Fuck yeah.
No shows, no movies, I stopped hanging out at the mall and public places, etc. I pretty much just either stay home or go to friends' houses.
This means I haven't been spending nearly as much money.
...guess who has 300 dolla right now.
Yeah. This girl. I've never had that much money in my life. And I'm making another 20-50 tonight.
Fuck yeah.
Monday, March 7, 2011
most nights
Most nights, it feels like there's a gigantic lump in my throat.
I can't swallow it and it won't come up or anything. It feels like I swallowed my entire heart and it's sitting there, halfway down my throat. It's pushing and shoving, trying to get digested, or at the very least, out of that fucking cave. It gets angry and pounds its fists on the cave walls, always hoping that will help. It never does.
It's the same thing with the thoughts.
His name is Mayhem and he won't leave me alone. He swims around my brain quickly, always reproducing, that whore. First there's one, then two, then four, then eight, then too many. Too many horrible offsprings of his. I try to organize them. I open up cabinets, drawers and cupboards and hurriedly try to put them away. I don't care if it's child abuse. They're much more like creatures. They deserve it. I don't want them to feel valid. I want them to sit in their hiding spots and collect dust. They're too polished when they're swimming around in my head. Hell, if I could, I'd just throw them in a fire. Unfortunately, you can't burn one thing in your brain without burning everything else with it. Though somedays, that doesn't sound too bad.
So of course, when Mayhem is playing his role, there's always the next step.
The tears.
They build up gradually. Sometimes I try and stop them, and sometimes I go to town with them. Sometimes when I'm on the verge, I imagine you're here with me. I picture telling you every little thing that's really on my mind. As my acidic words continue to spill out, the tears try to do the same. When I'm laying in bed pretending you're here, I try and hold back my tears for you. I squeeze my eyes shut, hold my breath and just keep talking until I choke. Then I let some of them happen and apologize to you. It's not very ladylike to allow yourself to be seen as such a wretched mess. But you listen to it all and maybe even try to help or comfort me. But by this time, it's all out of control and my imaginary you fades into the darkness. Then, you're gone. Mental emphasis on the word gone. Just like that. It's just me, alone in my bedroom. The realization sinks in that it's always going to be like this. That's all there is to it.
It's been like this a bit more often than most nights. But hey, if I can wear a smile to all my classes and keep my grades in the 80 range, it's all the same, isn't it.
I can't swallow it and it won't come up or anything. It feels like I swallowed my entire heart and it's sitting there, halfway down my throat. It's pushing and shoving, trying to get digested, or at the very least, out of that fucking cave. It gets angry and pounds its fists on the cave walls, always hoping that will help. It never does.
It's the same thing with the thoughts.
His name is Mayhem and he won't leave me alone. He swims around my brain quickly, always reproducing, that whore. First there's one, then two, then four, then eight, then too many. Too many horrible offsprings of his. I try to organize them. I open up cabinets, drawers and cupboards and hurriedly try to put them away. I don't care if it's child abuse. They're much more like creatures. They deserve it. I don't want them to feel valid. I want them to sit in their hiding spots and collect dust. They're too polished when they're swimming around in my head. Hell, if I could, I'd just throw them in a fire. Unfortunately, you can't burn one thing in your brain without burning everything else with it. Though somedays, that doesn't sound too bad.
So of course, when Mayhem is playing his role, there's always the next step.
The tears.
They build up gradually. Sometimes I try and stop them, and sometimes I go to town with them. Sometimes when I'm on the verge, I imagine you're here with me. I picture telling you every little thing that's really on my mind. As my acidic words continue to spill out, the tears try to do the same. When I'm laying in bed pretending you're here, I try and hold back my tears for you. I squeeze my eyes shut, hold my breath and just keep talking until I choke. Then I let some of them happen and apologize to you. It's not very ladylike to allow yourself to be seen as such a wretched mess. But you listen to it all and maybe even try to help or comfort me. But by this time, it's all out of control and my imaginary you fades into the darkness. Then, you're gone. Mental emphasis on the word gone. Just like that. It's just me, alone in my bedroom. The realization sinks in that it's always going to be like this. That's all there is to it.
It's been like this a bit more often than most nights. But hey, if I can wear a smile to all my classes and keep my grades in the 80 range, it's all the same, isn't it.
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