Summation

The Audrey Hepburn poster in my office now has a thought bubble that says, "So much to do...so little time."

Ironically, she is looking at my calendar.

180

I just woke up to the biggest panic attack.

Why the fuck do I lack so much motivation? I feel like time is running out and I don't have any reason to regain any sort of motivation or orginization.

But I have to. And I can. I will. Right?

Time is my biggest enemy in every aspect of my life right now; but the more I stand still and feel sorry for myself, the faster life will pass me by.

I need to get a grip. I'm desperately trying to grasp onto anything that will keep me sane right now, but every chance of orginization just slips away from me. WHAT is wrong with me?

So let's get something straight: I'm emotionally unstable. This emotional rollercoaster is, by far, the most unenjoyable ride I've ever been on in my life.

I blame the pill...or PMS.

Either way, a lesson has been learned: the pill combined with PMS is the bane of every woman on her road to success.

I feel better.

I think tomorrow, after bio, I'm going to sit down at my white board and figure my life out.

I can do this. HA!

I have successfully defeated my hormones. Really? So I screwed up, my job entails a lot of responsibilities, thus presenting a litany of mistakes that can be made. Should I have made them? No. But I did. And I'm learning. I am.

If I were perfect, I would be boring. I'm nineteen years old...I'm NINETEEN. Give me a break. I need to give myself a break seeing as no one else will. Nineteen. Geez Tina, relax. When I look back on my life, I don't want to see some loser who stressed over being student government president at some community college, I want to see a girl who took on a huge role, and came out of it a fucking genius.

Criticize me, I don't care; you're only making me stronger. You can throw empty criticism at me thinking I won't learn from my mistakes, but your lack of faith in me will only motivate me further. WOW, another thing I realized, I'm important enough to be on someone's mind and have them form endless opinions about me. I just realized: I'm pretty important. Okay...what now?

Time to live up to the perceptions...or defeat them.

I need to stop beating myself down. I will climb out of this hole I dug for myself. This is why I haven't really been crying to anybody. When everything is your fault, who can you blame but yourself? Crying in front of someone may be cathartic, but it also puts a burden on them. No one wants extra burdens. I've been keeping to myself and rightfully so; I got myself into this fucked up mess, and I WILL get myself out.

I don't care if I sound redundant in this entry. I need to. Plus this isn't for you, this was all for me. I'm the one who woke up in a cold sweat in the middle of a dream...about being in bio class. I guess that could have been interrupted.

Wow. Ok. I can do this.

Free Boost

I just realized how amazing I am.

After going through two weeks of absolute HELL with school, work, student government, and famiily issues (among many others), I realized: although it SUCKS how I have to deal with all this shit now, the fact that I actually have stuff to stress about makes my life pretty remarkable. As I was rushing back and forth from home and school, I noticed the beautiful flowers in bloom along the road. My life is beautiful, and no one can change that; I've decided to embrace my busy schedule and tell myself how amazing I am for having made it this far.

Funny how I'm feeling so elated even through PMS. LOVELY.

Really. It's lovely. I love my life right now.

The other day I had a mini breakdown as I was rampaging down the 55 freeway (nearly blinded by my own tears and listening to the symphony of my own screaming). Yeah. Life does that to you. But yesterday I realized just how important true friends are in times like these. We all need each other. I love all of my friends. :)

That's my post after being M.I.A. for about a month and a half. :)

Rip Van Winkle

I really have nothing to say...nothing except for a vast amount of unspoken thoughts that all just morph into a profusion of temperamental bickering.



I think the past month has been the most overwhelming month I've ever had to endure in my nineteen years of life.

WHEN will I be able to just live?

Past Loves and Past Lives

I was fourteen years old and he was sixteen. He left for college, and I started seeing other people. I thought I would never be able to get over him...

I was right.

Seeing him today brought back a wave of memories and feelings that overwhelmed me into submission. Our brief encounter triggered something in the back of my mind. I couldn't place a finger on what it was until now. I remembered that I wrote this about him at the age of sixteen when he went away for college. It took me forever to find it...

He approached her and said,"I think you're gorgeous." Never before had she ever felt so weakened by a mere compliment. They always brush over her head like the cool summer breeze. With him, it was pure innocent bliss. Her memories with him were filled with warmth and sunlight even on the dullest days, but that's all that they are now. Just memories, memories that she knows she will never be able to relive.

The images of their time spent together jostled with each other, and she tried to stop them, but she couldn't. His smile, she knew, would always remain the same, as a legacy of his adolescence.

She let him go. "Why did I do it?", she asked herself. She still to this day is unable to find a reason for her acts. She relives her days with him every waking moment until Reality steps in and every word out of his mouth is like a slap in her face; word bullets that tore into the brain and exploded, obliterating memories. Reality is cruel and careless but when things get crucial, all of the sudden it turns apologetic and mollifying. There is no turning back. Even if she could, she shouldn't for fear that she would have to suffer unbearable consequences. But would it be worth it?

Regret flows through her veins as if it is her own blood; through her body, to her heart where anger beats along with confusion. The only thoughts that flow through her mind are useless and they taunt her. She is goaded by her thoughts to be rash, but she takes a look at Reality, and thinks better of it.

"If only I showed more affection; if only I were simply blatant; if only I weren't so shy; if only I hadn't let him go....." She reminds herself that if she keeps looking back she will soon run into a wall of confrontation. "If only" Seemed to be the words of her life.

I know right? Even back then I seemed to have serious issues with men.

I don't know what happened today. It was, seriously, all a blur. My heart was beating out of control, and my thoughts jumbled up into a clutter of excitement. My words were probably far from comprehensible, and that was when I realized...

When the waves of your past come crashing into you, all you can really do is: breathe.

Tangled Up

I just spent the last two hours untangling my hair with my fingers. I'm sure the process could have been expedited with a mere hair brush, but I chose to be an idiot and spend two hours combing my hair with my fingers. So I guess this all means that it's time for a haircut. I'm trying to decide between scheduling an appointment to rid myself of this mane, or to just do it myself. Speaking of appointments, I need to schedule one with my dentist because I haven't gone in for a check up in over six months.

I'm very much over the glittery black nail polish phase, and I'm moving on to glittery pink. Yes, I can't seem to stay away from the glitter, but at least I've softened up and deterred myself from the black right? Unfortunately, I have just recently chewed my nails down to an unattractive length.

Aside from some chocolates, I haven't really eaten anything since I woke up at nine this morning. Something is wrong with me. Oh well, I'm going for that ultra-skinny lioness look with an edge of chipped black nail polish. Why the hell am I ranting about my appearance? Looks like insecurity has gotten the best of me.

Damn.

Faking It

ORANGE COUNTY, CALIFORNIA. A place where everything was made so that you wouldn't have to venture any further than five miles from your residential bubble in order to find what you need. The parking spots are bigger, and the neighborhoods are smaller. People here are friendly...so long as we don't have to see each other and exchange that awkward "Hello". Greetings are rarely issued because with that you have to spend a good two minutes pretending to be interested in the person's current life. Faking interest is something that often happens at the mall, the super market, or even on the streets when you see your neighbors during your afternoon jog. There is an unwritten book of rules that every person abides by and the OCPD rarely has any real menace to break up, so they settle with issuing three-hundred-dollar fines to petty crimes such as Jay Walking. It's the perfect place to settle down, raise a family, and (especially) retire. It is not the place, however, to find love.

Here, the college scene is struggling to find an identity for itself, as we are in an age where we are just breaking free from the conservative mindsets instilled upon us by our parents. Labels have been taken to a whole new level. Not only do we wear nothing but brand name clothes, but we have also begun to embrace labels to describe ourselves. Most of the time people can't find an identity of their own so they settle with being an imitation of someone they long to be. In a city filled with men in search of who they really are, an equally lost woman would have just as much trouble finding herself let alone true love. That is not to say that there is a difference somewhere else.

Trust me, I've been "somewhere else" quite a few times now, and just recently I was informed of something I really wish I could forget I ever heard.

So here it is, another complication for an already complicated situation. I hate being stuck in emotional messes. This time, I'm not going to be the one cleaning up. I hate being aggravated and distracted. I already have way too much on my plate to be worrying about such a ridiculous and utterly unreasonable issue.

Fuck it. I'm way too good to even be thinking about this.

Shuffle Mode

It takes me a while to articulate what I want to say, but I'll tell you this now: I sure as hell don't want to lose you.

Gracious Afflictions

I’ve walked down this road in the past. I know it. I’ve seen that sign of uncertainty so many times before and these red flags are all too familiar. Stopping mid-step, I realize that I’m not going anywhere with this situation at all. I’m not fully satisfied, not learning from my mistakes, and not making any improvements. Then it hit me. I’ve have been walking in circles. Exasperated, I begin to run. Angry at myself for walking right back into square one, I run aimlessly down unfamiliar avenues until I am surrounded by nothing but my own fear.

I run until I can’t handle facing any more of my fears and I settle to a sudden stop. I’m tired and completely lost now that I’m outside of my comfort zone. My legs are fatigued from trying to escape my mistakes, and my heart feels like it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. I slow down, and begin to walk blindly in the direction of nowhere. I try to convince myself, “This is good; this is what you wanted. You wanted something different, and this is far from ordinary.”

“This is good…”

Yet, no matter how “good” this seems to be, I can’t stop myself from looking back and re-living the past. As I become immersed in my distractions, I forget to watch where I’m going, and I walk straight into a wall of doubt. I hit my head hard and fall to the ground, face-first into a mass of confusion. I lay there for awhile, letting the pain of the impact travel through my body. After awhile I get up, brush off my knees, and turn to examine the source of my fall: that patronizing wall of doubt. It’s not that tall, about two months high, nineteen years long, and indefinitely wide. I can’t find a way around this wall, so I climb the two months, sit down on my doubt, trying to figure out how I got here and how to get out.

Not long ago, I made a decision to take on this journey. So far it has been as pleasant as it is unpredictable. Along this road I’ve stopped by some good conversation, taking with me useful souvenirs like: charm, trust, compassion, and sophistication (to name a few). I spent my nights entangled with lust, and my mornings were calm and complacent. It wasn’t until recently that my old habit decided to kick in. I don’t know why I constantly feel the need to look back.

A breeze flows through the atmosphere, and the cold air provokes a stinging pain coming from my knee. I look down and notice a scrape that was not there before my fall. It’s a minor wound; nothing like the outcome of my past endeavors that cut me so deep the scars will never fade. This is a surface wound that leaves the skin underneath not bleeding, but simply exposed and vulnerable to virtually every infection that comes its way. I stare at it a bit longer and realize that skin is about as raw as the past two months have been for me. Now I realize how I got here. A voice sounds in my head.

“I’m not worried about whether things work out or not.”

Those words keep ringing in my head, “I’m not worried… I’m not worried… I’m not worried…” I was never meant to hear them, but somehow, through the nature of gossip, they got to me. Now I’m sitting here not only confused, but completely hurt. Why didn’t I realize this before? This road I’ve been taking ultimately leads to nowhere, and I feel like I’ve been wasting my time and energy pursuing whatever it is that I’m after. I’m the only one who cares about whether or not things work out, so the smart choice would be to get out now. The problem is I’m determined to make everything work out, no matter how much it hurts me. Quitting isn’t a part of my nature; however stubbornness takes up the majority of it.

I guess in order to get out of that agonizing routine I’ve been repeating for most of my life, I needed to take different paths. Not like it did anything. It just led me straight into a wall which resulted in an aching head and a sharp pain in my knee.

My knee.

That’s it! I’ve been so elusive, so cautious and unwilling to open up. No wonder I haven't been making any progress. Like the wound on my knee, I need to match the pain of my wounds to the raw nature of the journey I’ve been taking. I need to be more exposed. Revealing my true character and exposing the reason behind it is going to sting a little, but the reward is that I’ll only become a stronger, more statisfied person. Now that I’ve figured out how to handle my situation, I need figure out how to get out of this place. I look around, trying to asses how far this “wall” stretches. Then I realize that it’s not a wall I’ve been sitting on, but a step.

I understand now. My doubt has been nothing but a step in my life that I needed to overcome. I get up once again, face in the direction of reassurance and walk over my doubt. I’m ready to fix this... no matter how much it stings.

Desiring the Unattainable

He tells me about himself, about his life, his background, and why he is the way he is. He tells me about his family and about the life he is living now; I can see that he wants out, he wants to be taken away from this mess. Somehow he manages to hold himself together, but inside he is shattered to pieces. She comes to me asking why he hasn't called, wondering what he's doing at this very moment, and if she should even worry about investing anymore time into pursuing him. She doesn't understand, and all she sees is herself, and what she wants. If I could only show her what he sees, let her feel what he feels, then maybe she would overcome this petty grudge and let him carry on with his dysfunctional life. Alas, that is not the case in this pitiful game of pursuit.

I know what's going on, but I am not at liberty to disclose anything that I was entrusted with. It's a thankless life that I live, in which I am constantly stuck to a thread of one person's secrets that somehow intertwines with the life another. Ultimately, this creates a web of disclosure in which I have the misfortune of being caught in the middle of.

To this day, I still cannot not put a finger on why everyone around me feels the need to spill their problems upon me, like I'm some sort of bottomless vessel available to anyone to use. It is times like these in which I feel the need to have a cathartic moment all to myself.

My friends wonder why I blow them off to stay at home and do nothing. It's not because I don't appreciate their company; it's just, in order to rejuvenate myself, I need to retreat into my own world where I can finally deal with my own problems, and have my peace of mind all to myself. In the ideal world of Tina Land, that would all fall under nicely, but in the real world, where techonolgy plays a significant role in the disruption of my solitude, people manage to pester me with their problems even if I'm not physically around them. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or insulted by this phenomenon. Has anyone ever bothered to ask me what's going on with me? What's going on with my life? What's been on my mind lately?

Never before have I felt more trapped in my own skin. I would give anything to live the life of another person just for a day. I believe that would be rather liberating, but, since I am indefinitely stuck in this life of mine, I should just deal with the issues I have in front of me. My current issue? Relationships. Over the past week or so, I've been thinking to myself about the aspect of relationships. There are the kinds that give you comfort in knowing you will always have someone to cry to at four in the morning, and those that supply you with guidance and support for the bigger things in life. Some relationships are strictly based on your monetary dependence, and others go far beyond the unset boundaries of love.

Relationships are vastly unique, each composed of its own elements that make up the structure of a solid bond. They vary on both sides of the spectrum from being extremely uninhibited and void of all secrets, to being utterly shallow and, at times, rather tense. However, there are those relationships that float around in the middle, waiting to be noticed. These are the bonds that, ideally, are free from the bounds of emotional, social, and even sexual tension. Relationships that are free from such tension should often induce the least amount of stress and, most of the time, are the ideal relationship otherwise known as: friendship. Of course, like any other failed love story, there is always something that gets in between of achieving that perfect friendship. In my case, that something is none other than the Y chromosome.

I have gone through life not only searching for true love, but, above that, true friendship. It's safe to say that I have found some of the best friends I could ever ask for, but I wish that all friendships were completely innocent and free of elusive wonder. For me, a simple friendship with a man is perfectly normal, however for others, it is virtually impossible. This got me to thinking about the relationships taking place around me with those who are my age. I know I'm not the only one who wonders about this, and I'm not the only one who seeks an answer.

In today's society of the economically-deprived college scene, where the lost souls of the adolescent youth are striving to find their true identities, I find it safe to ask: can a man and a woman ever maintain a platonic relationship?

Pause

I've been so nervous lately. It's like I'm on stage and the world is my audience. I feel as if everyone is watching my every move, waiting for me to screw up as I move blindly through this phenomenon otherwise known as Life.

Yesterday, after I went to get a rental car, then to downtown Los Angeles and retrieved my possessions from my incinerated car, dealt with my insurance company, went to school sat through my joke of a philosophy class, got lunch to feed my famished body, attended the Board of Trustees meeting (which went three hours over), made the agenda for Thursday's meeting, did thirty some-odd problems for Statistics, fed my dog, tried to read for Philosophy, and took a shower, I went to the kitchen and just stood there for a while trying to unwind. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Time has been an enemy that I have learned to accept as a friend. It has long deluded me into thinking that it would wait for me, but I had to learn the hard way that it stops for no one. However, at that moment in the kitchen, I felt at peace with it. I felt like we had a mutual understanding with each other and at that moment, it seemed as though I was standing still with Time itself. Hand in hand. It was the most calm and settling feeling that I have felt in a while.

After too much silence my mind started to recall my weekend and I, once again, became desperate to find something, anything, that would keep my mind busy. I went to my computer and checked my email. It was filled with unread messages. Big surprise. Most of them were business-related, some spam, and the rest were concerns about my well-being after hearing about my weekend. I wish I could say that I'm a polite and caring person who read all of those concerned emails, but frankly, I just don't want to be reminded of anything. So I immersed myself in business instead; I'd like to say that I read those emails too, but let's face it. I didn't.

This weekend had my mind constantly whirling with thoughts and worries about what I've done, and what is to become of me. I couldn't seem to calm down. Then I realized how pathetic I was being.

The truth is, you can turn anything into something dramatic and dysfunctional if you try hard enough. You can spend your days dwelling on all the ways you've screwed up, all the ways you've been let down, and all the ways you've been wronged, but I gaurantee you that there will be no benefit what so ever from this dwelling. If you wish to dwell go right ahead, your mission to seek pity will only end up with you feeling sorry for yourself. Or... you can learn to accept the imperfections of life and move on.

So I stared Death in the face this weekend and miraculously walked away unscathed. My family and I nearly lost both of our homes, and I had to evacuate and live in some cheap motel for the weekend. So what? It happened, big deal. I'm getting over this, and I'm going to come out of this so much smarter and stronger.

Life underestimates me, and it doesn't know that I actually enjoy learning things the hard way. Ha.

Tell Me...

The elections are over. Obama is our new president; animals are being provided better living conditions for their short life spans, and homosexuals are denied the right to marry. I haven't really said much about the outcome of the elections until now, after I have heard several different opinions and given the results some elaborate thought. Now I understand why it was necessary for Proposition 8 to pass. To those of you whom I rallied "No on 8" with, I am sorry that I am providing you with possibly and immense amount of disappointment, but I have my justifications. So just hear me out.

The image of our country is at stake. Racism still exists; Gender Inequality is present in most work forces; animals are being mistreated; and same-sex couples are allowed to be married. Same. Sex. Marriage. God created Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. All of this madness needs to be stopped if we want to protect the ideologies of our nation.

So long as racism still occurs, there is still hate. A woman being denied equal pay for equal work because of her gender is a form of discrimination. Also, those of you who believe it's fine to mistreat an animal because its fate is to die anyway, I ask you: don't you have the same fate? Or are you immortal and will live forever, thus deserve the right to a comfortable life? Sorry. That wasn't my point. I'm on the subject of how we should eliminate hate and discrimination.

Yes hate and discrimination are wrong, but what does that have to do with marriage and whether or not we should allow a man to marry a man or a woman to marry a woman? Just because we deny homosexuals of a civil right does not mean we hate them, and it definitely does not mean we are discriminating against them.

Hate the sin, not the sinner.

We don't hate them, we just want to protect the image of marriage which is the basis of a good family; and good families are the foundation of our nation. Right? A child simply cannot be raised by two fathers, or two mothers. It's wrong and disgusting. Two men or two women are simply incapable of providing a child with just as much love as a man and a woman can.

We've come to accept inter-racial marriage, because over time, we finally realized that: yes, even though a person has a different skin color, he or she is still a human being with the ability to love. This is why today, we see so many people of different races getting married to each other. It's so beautiful! This is what our country is all about! Equality for all! But homosexuals? Well yes, they are indeed human beings as well, but their ability to love is just...different. And we don't like that. Different is strange. Different is scary. Different is unacceptable.

As the bible says in Leviticus 20:13:
"If a man lies with a man as one lies with a woman, both of them have done what is detestable. They must be put to death; their blood will be on their own heads."

There you go. It says so in the Bible itself. Now do you understand where I am coming from? As someone who has studied the Bible, and was baptized in the name of the father, the son, and the Holy Ghost, I told myself that I would live every day of my life by the words of God.

Oh but wait...

Luke 6:31 says:
"Do to others as you would have them do to you."

I know I took away your civil rights, but please don't take away mine. I only want the best for you. I understand that you cannot marry the person you love because they are of the same sex, but I promise you that I am doing you a favor. What exactly is the favor that I am doing for you? Well...I'm not sure, but just trust me. This is right.

I know that my post might have stirred some anger in some readers, but really, I'm just speaking as an American on behalf of my country. I am proud to be a resident of California, a state that has taken away the rights of marriage from those who do not fit the mold. I'm going to protest, not with those who are "against denying human beings of civil rights", but with those who truly know the values of our country.

So after hearing what I had to say, I surely hope you understand why I said what I said. I am so blessed to be living in such a beautiful country, and I am not going to let anything untraditional taint the image of this nation. Our country, being built off of rebellious revolutions, cannot allow anything that does not fit the normal standards that our founding fathers set for us so long ago. That is why we must forever stick with traditional marriage.

It is safer, and right.

So tell me, if it were your choice, which America would you prefer?

This one?

Or this one?

Yeah...I feel safer with the latter as well.

Submission to Admission

I'm waiting in line. Waiting to be accepted. Waiting to be judged, and ironically accepting to be judged. The line moves forward, and I can see him. He intimidates me, my fate lies in his hands. The line shortens and before I know it I'm face-to-face with the man who determines my admission.

He does not even look at me (which I find unnerving), but simply orders, "Explain yourself."

What?

Not exactly understanding his request I tell him, "I can't describe what I'm feeling. Not to you, not to me, not to anyone."

He seems to have not taken any of this in. This man is going to be harder to impress than I thought. As I contemplate on how to get on his better side, he catches me off-guard with yet another question.

"Why did you do it?"

I have no choice but to answer, but the problem is that I don't exactly have an answer.

"I don't know what provoked me to do it. I obviously regret it, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

"Why are you here?"

"Because I don't want to be there."

He is still unimpressed. I am still not surprised. It's time to step up my game. There is a silence while he waits for something better than my pathetic response. The silence is neither awkward nor is it unnerving at this point. I know I have all the time in the world, because I have no where else to go now; and neither does he.

Surprisingly he succumbs to the silence, my assumption that it is more out of annoyance with my pettiness than impatience. He finally looks at me and says, "Ultimately everyone winds up here. Think of me as the bouncer who determines who gets to be allowed in. This is why you need to explain your story."

At this point I want in so badly, I'm willing to tell all. It's not like I have anything to lose, because I had already lost everything (my dignity being the least of them) upon coming here.

So I tell him.

"I've spent the majority of my life physically moving through each day just to flee from my own past. Every man I was ever with, I clung on to in hopes of finding some sort of new life on the other side of their passion; all the while my soul was begging for some leniency. My problem was that I was never able to slow down let alone stop. I've always wanted too much and moved too quickly. I've always blamed the men for why I was so hurt."

Here he holds up his hand to make a point. "Look back at how cautious you have been throughout your life; are you sure you haven't been inflicting this pain upon yourself?"

I'm stumped and taken aback by his statement, but I begin to see his point.

My entire life I searched for love. True, passionate love that lies far beneath the surface of image and even words. I grew afraid and confused when my feelings were ever returned. I guess it was my insecurity questioning why any man would ever go for someone like me. This is why, over time, as the men grew closer, I grew further and further away. In the end they got hurt and left, but being the inconsiderate bitch that I was, I channeled all the pain onto myself, blaming the other side for the result. I still blame the other side for the reason why I am here.

Now that it's too late to redeem myself, I ask, "Why? Why was I ever like that? Why did I always have to go and ruin something so good for myself?"

He seems to have had the answer all along.

"Underneath your over-confident persona, dashing smile, and outrageous exclamations, there are detours that can lead a person somewhere so deep inside you where you yourself are even afraid to venture to. You need to stop wanting more. Instead of constantly trying to escape, you need to learn to adapt to the predicaments you usually put yourself into."

This presents a need to defend myself.

"I don't put myself into predicaments."

"How did you end up here then?"

I thought for a second and replied, "I just couldn't take it anymore."

"So you just decided to leave? Just like that? 'poof' and you're gone?"

"Well it was more like I left with a 'bang', but I get it. I know. It was wrong, but it seemed like the only solution. I had no other alternatives. Besides, it's not like anyone cared."

He looks at me.

"You honestly do not feel that your irrational actions made an impact on anyone or anything?"

Being a man of power and high authority thus demanding a great amount of respect, I decide to agree with him only because I just want in. However, my stubborn side overcame my modesty and I replied.

"Not really. I mean they'll all get over this soon, and they barely even notice nor do they care right now."

He simply sighs and tells me, "I'm going to let you in, but first you need to go back and just observe. See for yourself whether or not anyone cares or ever cared. Go."

So I left him, and now I am here on this field.

There is not a single cloud in the sky with only a slight breeze flowing through the day. I've been here many times before, but it was never in my honor. Not once did it ever cross my mind that everyone would one day dress up to come and honor me. I take a look around, and my soul is filled with regret as I watch them all pass by me one by one; each of them placing a white rose upon my coffin and walking away with tears in their eyes.

Now I know. They did care, they still care, and they always will care.

I want to go back. I want a second chance.

Shot to Pieces

I've been running too much. Too far. Too fast.

To where? And why?

I feel like I've been running uphill through the last few weeks. Now I'm exhausted. Some might have seen me stumble and fall, but I brushed my knees off and carried on like any normal person would. When you fall face first into the concrete, I've learned that its best to let your tears sink into the pavement and then just get up and carry on. No one needs to know you got hurt. Right?

Wrong.

I'm so fake.

When it comes to talking about myself and how I feel, it's like speaking a foreign language of which my tongue can't grasp. Not can't. Won't. Talk about stubborn.

I don't know where I'm going with this. Which sucks because I've been running aimlessly for far too long and now I'm lost. I need a map. Not a compass. Fuck compasses. I don't need a damn arrow to know where north is. That's what the sun is for. I want another tangible object that would provide me with a sense of direction telling me exactly where I am and where I need to be.

I have to attend yet another conference this weekend. I'm tired of acting so blindly. I'm tired of just showing some shell. I've got fucking feelings too. I need someone to hold me together.

Or maybe I just want someone to hold me. Tight. Because otherwise I would explode.

Into a huge mess.
Guts everywhere.

So not pretty.

So hold me.

Ten Fingers

Never have I ever...

Missed someone so much.
I just want the chance to say "I'm sorry".

Erase and Rewind

"You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself."

I want to say I'm sorry, but I'm not sure if I'm the one at fault. I feel so tied down yet so extremely alleviated. I'm trying to weigh out which emotion is deeper. It's the only way to determine whether or not I would turn around.

But I hate U-turns. But I believe in second chances.

I'm so contradicting. I give myself a headache...but that could also be my sinuses.

I need to move to New York.

It's All Just a Title

"You need to be more stern; don't fall prey to being too nice or you'll get taken advantage of."

It was roughly two in the morning, and I had woken up in a cold sweat two hours prior completely scared shitless of what is to become of me. I spent the remainder of the time leading up to this moment tossing and turning, and doing the usual over-analyzing, and under-rationalizing. I finally couldn't take myself anymore, so I grabbed my phone and started desperately searching for someone, anyone, who would be able to identify with, and help me.

I narrowed my options down to three people. Three disappointing people being that: one was drunk, another was busy, and the last one didn't respond. Funny how they all come banging on your door for advice when you're busy as fuck, unable to help anyone let alone yourself; but when it's your turn to seek advice, everyone is suddenly missing in action or preoccupied with prior engagements.

Go figure.

Anyway, the non-responsive friend became responsive and, to be honest, I didn't expect much help from this person at all considering what they just went through. I was right you know, the majority of the conversation was essentially useless, but upon leaving I was left with that statement up there.

Don't be too nice.

Shit hit me hard. I never knew how much of a push-over I really was until this statement came and slapped me in the face. It not only slapped me, but it mocked me, and taunted me; ultimately reminding me of how much I fucked myself over. It was the most painful bitch I have dealt with by far. That statement had an underlying message that said:

Welcome back to reality Tina, scary shit's been taking place since you've been gone; what's even scarier is that this is all your fault.

I can't believe how submissive I've been with every aspect of my life. I let one failure drag me down with its unworthiness, I let people disrespect me when I should've held authority, and I let myself be lied to by someone I still care about greatly. It's all my fault. I blame no one.

I've been so sprung on being a laid back, "Do What You Want" type of girl, but everything has backfired. I'm so laid back, that I'm being walked all over. Superb. I, above all people, should know that not everyone can be trusted. Not everyone has the common sense to shut up without me having to tell them. Not everyone is kind enough to respect me, and not everyone is going to take my emotions into consideration when an opportunity far more tempting is being presented to them. Disappointingly, not everyone is as strong-minded as I perceive them to be, and not everyone genuinely cares about me.

My priorities are all out of order now. The sad part is that this has been going on since summer, which is why I'm in the shitty predicament that I'm in now. I really need to prioritize my time. School comes first, then Student Government, then everything else can come after if and only if I have time. Why couldn't I think of this before? How retarded am I to have to spend an entire sleepless night to come up with one blatant epiphany that shouldn't have had to require so much consideration?

It is now four in the morning, and my head is spinning. I just realized how wrong in every aspect this situation is. I passively waited for a change, and what I got was a lie. I cared too much, I wanted too much, I tried too hard...but not hard enough.

Well I guess this is just another lesson learned. I have figured out what I need to do, but now all I need is to find the courage to pursue this action. Let this be one of my finest moments of brilliance.

And by finest I mean, extremely illogical, utterly erratic, overwhelmingly emotional, slightly confused, more than slightly delusional, and completely drained of all tears. Yes, I felt all of that and managed not to explode. Look what you've done to me. I hope you're proud.

Extended Dreams

My most desired goal in life is to inspire at least one person and become their role model. From that I hope they can take what they've learned, make what they can of it, and pass it on. I want to be able to live forever through the through the messages I derive from the lessons I learn throughout my entire life.

I guess that means one great accomplishment just isn't gonna cut it.

I'm sure we've all had our moments of glory sometime or another in our lives. While there's no denying that those accomplishments are remarkable, there's still that question of: now what?

Whoever you were back then is gone. You might have been great or insignificant, but you still have the rest of your days to either screw up or redeem yourself. You still have the rest of your life to define yourself. College doesn't define you and high school did so even less. It's all about how you live your life everyday. You define you.

It's like that ex movie star who gets denied all the perks he/she got back in those glory days. How amusing would it be to watch those fits of rage?

"Do you know who I am? I used to be great!"

Used to be great. But what are you now?
Oh that's right, you've fallen back in line with everyone else who is still holding onto the past, because that was the only time they seem to have mattered. I'm sorry. I didn't see you there because you've become so insignificant.

I pity those who live in this illusion of a life that has long surpassed its living days. Life moves on, and so does everyone else; you can't just stay stuck in the past hoping others will join you. Everyone is evolving and becoming greater, while you grasp onto some old glory, unable to make anything better of yourself. Life is still happening, and you're still living. It sucks that one great achievement doesn't make or break who you are, but that's just how it is. It's confusing; it's painful; it's life.

Sucks doesn't it?

Welcome to the real world my friend. In this world, we live in the moment and strive for the future; but we still keep close those lessons we've learned from the past. That sounds about right. Right? We learn from the past, but we don't try to re-live it.

We've done great things, but we want to be greater.

If you've set the bar high for yourself, you need to keep living up to those standards. Don't be a One Hit Wonder.

At my funeral, I want to be remembered for all the great tasks that I accomplished up to the day I died, not just on that one great thing I did on that one day long long ago. I don't want to leave just one footprint in this world, I want to leave a path. I want to be worthy enough to be followed, and I want my philosophy to be passed on with each generation. I want to live forever. Screw leaving the single most powerful message. I'm going for a legacy.

Recovery

I don't know where I'm going to be next year. I don't know how far I'm going to be or how close, but for now I know that I do not want to be stuck in this little scenario forever. I feel like this is getting nowhere.

But maybe this getting nowhere is exactly where I need to be. I don't even know what I want anymore. I do, however, know that you shouldn't let your past failed experiences determine what's going to happen this time. What's the harm in trying?

Hurt people hurt people. That's a fact.

Patience is Futile

Is it absurd of me to stick around and wait in a situation that has become so satiated?

No matter how much I try (which, truthfully, isn't that much) I can't seem ignore that question that lies in the back of my mind. Maybe it's the change in seasons, maybe it's my insecurity, or maybe it's because I've been in a state of solitude for a little too long... Whatever it is, I am unable to just accept that things are going well, and being difficult isn't going to help my case.

But I can't help it.

I mean, I may not be like any other girl you know, but occasionally I do give in to the sin that is Over Analyzing. Can you blame me? I just hate being kept in the dark. This wouldn't be so hard if you were an open book that came complete with an answer key. But you're not. And that's what gets me. It's so bothersome, like an itch on my back that I can't seem to reach. I know there are some things you want to know yourself, but I can't help you if you're not willing to do the same. It's sort of a "You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours" type of deal. Fair enough right?

I guess...

Lately I've noticed that I've been rather submissive. After all the lessons I've learned, I still find myself to be too forgiving. I have finally figured out what is wrong, and just as I begin to gloat in my brilliant epiphany, I realize that it is incomplete. Sure it's wrong, great so avoid it; but then what's "right"? It's like I can see the light, but I don't know where it's shining to. I've figured out the problem, but I don't have an answer. I don't know what's happening or where this is headed, and I want answers. I know I'm close though, but simply not there. I wish I could just ask, but sometimes a simple question could scare away the one person who can supply you with an answer.

I'm dizzy from the thoughts that keep spinning around in my head. I'm being enticed with the hope that someday this could be more. It's so tantalizing, yet so excruciating at the same time to know that there's a possibility this can go either way. I'm scared of what I'm getting myself into, but I want this so bad that I'm willing to put my well-being aside. I'm caught in the moment and it feels so good, but the suspense of the unknown just hurts so bad.

But don't stop. I like it.

"I don't know why I'm waiting around for this. I know it's going to hurt in the end, and I don't want to deal with it so why am I still here now?....Oh....because I like him. That's why."
"Good job Tina, you've finally figured it out."

So...you can clap it you want. I am a self-proclaimed genius.

Post Playlist:
Snow Patrol- Run
Snow Patrol- Open Your Eyes
Remy Zero- Perfect Memory
Death Cab for Cutie- Follow You Into the Dark