Crevices Filled Up With Water

I have come to the realization with the fact that there is something fundamentally wrong with the way that I approach life.

I’m almost 21. From Vegas, and not single (at least for the moment).

I just moved to California for the first time completely alone about one month ago and it has taken 20+years and being thrust into this place to make me realize that I have deep anxietal issues.

Growing up, I can always remember thinking that life was worse than it was. Sure it wasn’t perfect, but in terms of living a decent life and having a safe childhood, I lucked out. Life was better for me growing up than some adults in the world will experience their entire lives. And it saddens me that no matter how aware I am of this fact or no matter how hard I’m (…paused for a text…) -or how hard I’m trying to be happy with what I’ve got, my immense problem with my life continues to grow.

---Tonight I could not control my insecurities. I saw her name in your phone, listed under “new” and freaked. I freaked so hard even I felt like when I looked at the reflection of myself in the mirror that I had been staring back at a bona fide madwoman. For the first time in my life, I generally felt crazy. I rushed into the bathroom and I couldn't breathe. I locked the door and sat on the floor slowly rocking, convulsing, teeth chattering. He kept asking for me to come out and I wanted to respond but I couldn't find my voice. I didn't want to. I was comforted by believing that that, was it. I was not moving from that spot on the white tiled floor no matter what. He had to pick the lock to get me out. That's what helped snap me back to reality. I still felt shaken after but I had gained consciousness of what I was doing.

 In a strange way, I have always fantasized about being a little “off” but not in the Carrie killing everyone at prom way. I had always fantasized about being a little “off” in the way that Winona Ryder’s character was viewed in the film Girl, Interrupted. I had wanted to come back from the craziness and return to normal in the end when the journey was all over. She was redemptive. And so I’m told that this journey is just the beginning, but I’m not sure others mean it in the way that it’s happening.

I’m sitting here, having to live life. And I am living life to the point of having to face the reality that there is something vastly wrong with the way that I have been experiencing life for the last 20 or so years. You mean there are people out there that actually sit there and for the most part live their lives entirely in an ecstatic mental state? You mean happiness exists past the comfort of buying something new? …And that trying to force my soul into for once feeling full by filling my form of empty crevices with materialistic fashions and self conformity is not something that every one has to go through?...and that it is, god forbid, unhealthy (I’m sorry, I mean God -> I have to put this here because it came into my thoughts. Because I question my existence every goddamn day as I envision how delicate the metal would bend towards my face after coming through the windshield of my car because I asked it to.)

My mind is in constant confliction with itself and the minute I want to give up, the minute I stay in the game because I’m too cowardly when it comes to what might lie beyond it. 

- youthinw

sh*t my roommate does

you never shut up. seriously... i'm all the way across the house, and i can still hear your voice at full volume. i can hear every word in the sentence that you are saying, in the dialogue that you are having, etc. is it really necessary to talk with such self importance all of the time? i honestly don't know how you do it. it's bad enough that you walk around with a stick up your butt on your best day. do you really need to top off your king kong esque attitude with long soliloquies of your self importance? what the fuck happened to you as a little kid that made you so self righteous?? do you realize in your quest to be original that you are a living breathing example of a stereotype that all college students hate? you're the girl that asks questions in class just to hear yourself talk. thank god i've never taken a class with you because if i had, i would have wanted to slam my head against a desk every time you began to open your mouth. i understand that i want to go to bed at a seemingly early time for a college student, and i by no means am trying to govern your sleeping patterns but could you at least have some decency to shut your damn pie hole or at least avoid talking at the top of your lungs while you're having a simple phone conversation so that the rest of us can sleep? seriously, what a bitch. how dare you criticize me for coming home before 1 am on the weekends. sorry i'm not sorry you have no social life. don't take your self misery out on the rest of us by keeping us up during the week when you decide it's okay for you to stay up late. bitch.

...seriously

I feel like you just don't fucking care, and it's just fucking bullshit. I don't fucking understand how I can be around you and you don't make any attempt at all to acknowledge that I'm there. You make me feel like I'm some narcotic psycho. Wtf? I'm tired of feeling like I want you more than you want me. Seriously? This is supposed to be fucking equal and even when I'm this close to being stuck in a different state, you don't give a fuck. Oh I'll visit you on the weekends, I'll take your fucking dream to go to school in California and fuck other hoes and bitches on the side, have them stay at my place while your working your ass off to make a fucking living and then drive out to see you like I fucking care. Seriously? you tell me you love me but gifts don't demonstrate that, guilt is a result of gifts. What the fuck did you do? I love how hard you try to keep me in the car when I'm talking to you and I leave. You really fucking love me. Don't you realize how much I fucking love you?

California Dreamin' Part 1

Chest to Chest

Nose to Nose

Palm to Palm

We were always just that close

Wrist to Wrist

Toe to Toe

Lips that felt just like the inside of a rose

So, how come when I reach out my finger 

It feels like more than distance between us

In this California king bed

We're ten thousand miles apart

I've been California wishing on these stars

For your heart for me

My California king

Eye to Eye 

Cheek to Cheek

Side by Side

You were sleeping next to me

Arm in Arm

Dusk to Dawn

With the curtains drawn

And a little last night on these sheets

So, how come when I reach out my fingers

It seems like more than distance between us

In this California king bed

We're ten thousand miles apart

I've been California wishing on these stars 

For your heart for me

My California king

Just when I felt like giving up on us

You turned around gave me one last touch

That made everything feel better

And even then my eyes got wetter

So confused wanna ask you if you love me

But I don't wanna seem so weak

Maybe I've been California dreaming...

- Rihanna, California King Bed

      He left, and I went upstairs to the empty box of tissues still sitting on my bed. As I looked around my room, I saw what remnants were left of my thoughts before. Scrunched up and stained with black, used tissues thrown scattered along the floor.

     I can't remember how long it's been since I was entirely happy in the last two months. This whole sadness thing has honestly got to stop. It's so draining, and it's just, not me. When I see friends for brief moments in time or worse when I'm with him, I have to mask myself. I have to keep them hidden. I lock them up. I bury them. And then bury them some more. These thoughts, all the thoughts that have been pecking away at my mind so tediously; they peck and peck a little more aggressively. Each hour passes faster than the next as I attempt to bury them deep down inside of me, in hopes that they won't get out. 

     I try to bury them, bury them, deep, deep down, but it's so hard when there's no one to talk to about this. I feel so lonely. I can't say that I've ever remembered feeling like this before. And worse, I don't understand why I'm feeling like this in the first place. I mean, I do. But I'm not exactly sure why I've been feeling how I've been feeling so intensely.

      Flashback to the Second Grade. It's the year 1999. My parents are sending me to a school. It's a  school meant for k-12 graders placed in the city of sin. Such a school was meant to serve one purpose, and one purpose only. And it did, serve its purpose that is. I graduated from the same school as a senior in the year 2010. I was accepted to quite a few amazing schools located all along the east and the west coast. And I graduated that year, with a sense of hope, and eyes full of promise. I was at the monumental brink in my existence; the point at which one's life is supposed to "begin". 

   My life did "begin" or so I thought in the fall of 2010 as a college freshman at Chapman University. I spent one semester made up of six months learning and growing into the person that I am at the moment. Granted, fall of 2010 took place not even a full year ago but I can't honestly begin to describe to you how much those six months of being on my own for the first time changed me. 

   For once in my life, I was freed from my overbearing parents by the California state border line that kept a distance between us. All of my life, my parents had kept such a close watch over me when it came to things that they would allow me to do, to the point where I even felt like some days it was hard to breathe. But for the most part, I followed their rules. For 18 years straight, I went along with what they said, hoping and waiting for the day when I could go off to college and finally just be myself. I know my parents were like that because they were trying to keep me safe, but there comes a point in a child's life where that child needs to be given her freedom so that she might have a change to grow into a remarkable adult. Instead I felt crippled and stunted by their restrictions, and I never felt like it was safe to just live for a little.

   I'm such a strong believer in the idea that one must enjoy one's youth to the fullest while they still can. I believe that the period in everyone's lives in which they experience what it means to be a "youth" should never be wasted. It's a time that is meant to be filled with mistakes, heartbreaks, and adventures so that when the time comes to be an adult, we can laugh at the past and be prepared for the future. I never have felt like I've gotten that chance. The chance to feel alive, to feel young, and wild and free. The chance to roam the streets endlessly with friends as we took in the night time sky and the light infested scenery. The chance to feel the wind flow through my hair as I sat on dampened grass, hand in hand with another, while the sounds of a music festival went running through the air. The chance to get wasted with your friends, and to laugh about the scenes of idle debauchery that occurred the night before. I wanted the chance to live a little, laugh a little, love a little. I wanted the chance to fuck the one I love. I wanted the chance to hold him all night after we fucked without having to worry about some delayed curfew. We'd wake up together in the morning with tender kisses on the cheek, and palms intertwined. 

I wanted the chance to be in an eternal state of happiness for weeks on end because I'm finally able to live the life I want to live, and to see the people that I care to share my time with whenever the hell I want. To be given the chance to enjoy what's left of my youth...and it all came to an end, the chance that I had. Then you came along, and my wishes started all over again.

  

Happy Easter

The Pursuit of Happiness

♥ 

This is me...

If you have happened to stumble upon this blog, I feel a deep need to apologize to you. This blog was going to be my favorite past time but then I fell in to the world of tumblr (dear lord). And I've never looked back. I love that with tumblr there's no need to sit and think about what verses or experiences or phrases that you are going to post. It is utterly spontaneous. Like the mind's collection of personal fancies, cultural whims, and delights galore. Thus I have fallen under the tendency to post photos or quotes onto this blog that allow me to then post them to tumlbr because for whatever reason no one has reposted that picture yet or because their urls don't always work. However, I do encourage you to bear with me if you happen to stop by and view this blog in it's complete distorted state. I have plans to actually turn this into the proper blog that it needs to be very shortly. But until then...adieu for now my loves. This is me. <3