I really hate when things change between people. When they don’t seem as interested in you. When they don’t talk to you the same. When you don’t talk to each other as much, or the conversations aren’t as deep or connected. When they go off and are with other people, and you just know that they are connecting with them just as they have with you, that you no longer have their attention. When things just feel /different/…. When you feel annoying, or stupid, or weird, or like you’re boring them with anything you say. And you can feel yourself losing them day by day…. It’s just, you know you can’t even compete. You’re going to lose them. They’re going to forget about you. But you’ll always remember. You’ll always wish you were just a little more interesting. A little more funny. A little more captivating. But you’re not. And that’s why they move on to someone new.
It’s funny. Most people have low self esteem physically. But today when I was getting ready for bed, I was in panties and a half tank top and I just stared in the mirror and admired myself. I love my body. I love my legs. I love my tattoos. Even tonight, I loved my tummy. I love my back dimples. I love my butt and chest and collarbones, when clothed. But my low self esteem resides internal. Some days I truly hate who I am. Lately I’ve been on this roller coaster where I love certain aspects of myself, but an hour later I’ll despise the fuck out of myself. And I’ll depict everything. Why do I like such weird stuff? Why am I not a normal girl? Why, just why? And I feel guilty. And sometimes even sick. And then an hour later I’m admiring myself again. Yet this self-hatred still lingers beneath it all. I think if I could accept myself, I’ll be fine. But the problem is…I don’t know who the fuck I am. I have clues, but society and people truly scare me. I think my problem is that I can never truly be myself. In front of anybody. I can’t live with people’s reactions. So I’d rather keep it a secret…a secret that festers inside.
I’m just so confused. Like am I always in lust or have I actually fallen in love? I don’t get it because its like I’d do so much for someone, more than anyone else. Like I feel like I only take relationships seriously. I feel like having friends is so hard for me because I don’t know how to be a friend; I only know how to let certain people in to my life emotionally and physically. But is it lust? How long does lust last? What does lust subject and limit to? Because those certain people and when I’m taken aback by someone it’s hard. Like I obsess over people thoughts wise, not action wise. I’m overtaken by thoughts and wanting to talk to the person a lot. I’ll think about them so much and that’s just in general. I fall in love multiple times a day. But is it love though? Is it really love…or is it infatuation? Is it lust? How far does this extend to? I feel like I’d do anything for certain guys for no fucking reason other than I’m obsessed with them. I’m obsessed with the thought of them. I’m obsessed with their bodies and face and talking to them. Wtf is wrong with me.
I was at a birthday party I’m guessing, considering what happened. I was in the pool for a while. My recent ex and my brother were there swimming too, along with a lot of other people. I got out and went inside whoevers house I was at to get water. Then you opened a door that was by the water dispenser and was getting something like out of a fridge before you jut stood there and stared at me…I didn’t realize who it was till I looked up. I’m trying to remember all of our conversations but I just can’t unfortunately, because we did a lot of talking. For some reason you still had long hair. I do remember asking why you still had hair, I know you cut your hair off, but I guess since I’ve never seen you in person with your new haircut, my mind wouldn’t recreate you without your long hair. Another thing I remember is you saying it’s your birthday, so I said happy birthday of course. You were filling up a plate of Chinese food then somehow I remember us face to face having a serious conversation. Now I’ve pictured this happening millions of times in the past year but it was so beautiful to have seen it in a dream. As our conversation went on, somehow you ended up sitting up on the floor and I got on top of you and was sitting on your lap. All I remember conversations wise was that we were talking about us and what happened between us. I remember saying that I was stupid and do stupid things, and that’s why we didn’t work out. On that note, I just leaned in and kissed you, but I pulled back and got off of you and said that I was stupid and sorry. I turned around and then you kept talking.. I can’t remember what you said but then I turned around and a tear fell from your eyes. I went over to you and got on your lap again and held your face in my hands, kissing the tear off of your face like I’d always do whenever you’d cry. Then more and more fell and I kept kissing them away. I remember you asking what happened if my recent ex walked in and saw [since I still am involved with him in real life] but I just said that I didn’t care and I kept holding you and kissing you like when we were still together… And I didn’t want to wake up.
I just remembered waking up from surgery in November and hysterically crying because you weren’t there… I didn’t care about the pain. My mind was just filled with you and I just wanted to see you and hold your hand and hear your voice. And I remember crying to my mom because she was there when I woke up and I was just losing my shit right there and everyone thought it was pain but it wasn’t I just kept crying and crying saying how I love you and want you to be there.
I don’t think that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger… It doesn’t. It’s just that the first time it happens to you, it’s brand new because you had expectations or something happened that you didn’t expect. Then someone else comes along and does the same thing and you don’t necessarily react the same, it just numbs you almost. It reminds you of how you felt and it just makes you feel like shit and you almost feel like you deserve it sometimes. Then it turns in to a kind of “Been there, done that” situation. That’s how I feel about it anyways.
It’s sad to think that I’ve only cried three times in the past year. Is that healthy?
Can you imagine what it was like for Rose when she got to a warm, safe place to stay in New York? All those nights and days she probably laid in bed, longing to touch him, to hear his voice, to kiss him, to laugh with him, to look in to his eyes again…to have him alive, well, and healthy. Crying her eyes out. Reminiscing over every single moment they had together since they first made eye contact on the ship. Coming up with every scenario possible to save him.
I can’t even begin to grasp it….
This is why I love Rose so much.
I’m pretty sure she probably wanted to kill herself after losing Jack.
But the promise.
She kept her promise that she made to Jack.
And she went on to do everything her and Jack said they’d do together.
Going and doing all those things without him was probably so special yet so heartbreaking and just a fucking reminder of what happened….
Like….the nostalgia that probably tore Rose’s heart out every single fucking day.
The amounts of tears she cried.
I imagine she didn’t sleep for weeks, and whenever she did get sleep, she’d dream of getting off of Titanic with Jack, holding his hand, rubbing it in Cal’s and her mother’s face.
Or even if the disaster did happen and he lived!
That they get off and have a loving, beautiful life together.
Rose makes it as an actress and Jack becomes a famous artist.
And they have many kids and their kids have kids, and they grow old together.
And they tell their kids and grandkids their experience together, how they met, how they survived, how they saved each others lives…
That’s why in the Heaven scene, she goes back to Jack.
It’s what she always wanted.
And I don’t blame her.
DAFUQ I DO THIS TO MYSELF FOR?!
I love that I can make up situations and scenarios in my head, trust me, I love it. It’s just sometimes it gets so ridiculous because it’s unrealistic. It never happens. It gives me a false reality. It makes me make things in to something their not. But I love to dream even though it is probably the number one thing that disables me from living life, from going out and making those things happen. Because in my daydreams they happen perfectly. But in real life, it’s nothing like that…
Random thoughts that I’ll probably touch upon later. Merpy.
I think I need to make a long vent post….
This has been bothering me for many years.
Yet I just hold it inside which causes me to hold hate and negative feelings towards the opposite sex, which disables me from developing a healthy relationship with a male.
But I can’t stand the male population.
I know that sounds ignorant, but I don’t mean all of them. There are some good guys out there, it’s just the percentage is so small that the bad percentage completely knocks it out.
So when I say “all men” in this post, please know I’m talking about the bad percentage.
Basically, men are just fucking disgusting.
It’s to the point where I don’t want to be romantically/emotionally/physically involved with one in the future.
It’s to the point where I can’t even see myself getting married to one because I don’t want to end up like every other woman: miserable with a disgusting, cheating, sex-centered male. [note that when I say “every other woman,” I mean a WOMAN, I’m not referring to a hoe.]
Seriously though, look how many people cheat.
Look at how many people just flirt with another person.
Look at how many people sleep with multiple people [not a three sum, I mean like they’re banging five different girls in the same time period.]
Look at how many older men just drool over younger, teenage girls.
Meanwhile they have a beautiful girlfriend/wife that they clearly don’t appreciate.
Meanwhile men wonder why girls turn in to such bitches!
Why in the beginning of the relationship, we acted a different way.
Yeah, well, you were fucking different too.
All they’re fucking concerned about is getting their dick wet.
All they’re fucking concerned about is who’s the hottest.
Like…LOOK AT YOUR FUCKING GIRLFRIEND.
Appreciate her instead of other fucking woman you god damn idiot!
Only concerned with yourself…
And they play the childish fucking games with us too.
They go behind our backs.
They sweet talk their way in to our pants.
They leave to fuck the next girl.
Or, little do you know, they’re fucking the next girl while you’re still together.
Like…what happened to chivalry?
What happened to idolizing your woman, treating her like gold, loving her completely, being a gentleman, realizing your life isn’t just about you anymore, only having eyes for her, doing anything to make her happy?
& people would call that selfish.
But real woman return the same thing, the same love.
And I guess that’s why since I was younger, I’ve always fallen in love with fictional characters.
Which completely explains my love for Jack Dawson and Edward Cullen.
I’m sick of everything being about sex and getting laid with guys.
Completely sick of it.
I’m not referring to one male here, I didn’t get this from one male, even though one of the most important one in my life is a lot like what I described. I’ve gotten this from years of experience and people watching. Maybe you think I’m wrong and that’s fine. Your opinion is just as relevant as mine, but I’m just trying to finally get this off my chest. My eyes have filled with tears writing this because it bothers me that much.
Again, not referring to all men. Because if a good guy reads this, he’ll take offense.
Going all the way back in my Leo blog and I found this. Needs to recirculate.
“There was room for two on that door” pisses me off.
First of all, it wasn’t even a door.
Second, if you paid any attention to the movie, the wood couldn’t support the both of them at the same time.
Yes, they could have taken turns, or Jack could have swam and found another piece of furniture to stay afloat on, but would the ending have had the same affect then? Would the promise Rose made to Jack even be relevant or so forceful?
I mean, I still would have cried of course and it would have been lovely to see Jack and Rose together in America and I would have been so happy but clearly that wasn’t the affect James Cameron wanted to leave on the audience.
I believe his goal was to show people that life goes on, despite how many hard, tragic, and heartbreaking situations occur and to also give us a glimpse in to the pain everyone felt that night, the people who lost their family, friends, and loved ones.
I mean the tragedy itself did it well obviously, but since the audience followed Jack and Rose in their story together, it was only fitting for one of them to go.
For Christs sake even the theme song for Titanic is called, “My Heart Will Go On.”
Rose is such a strong character, and Jack was just as strong as well. Yes she wanted to commit suicide but Jack was her saving grace. Jack saved Rose and Rose saved Jack. Not in only one way, but I believe in every way they saved each other. I love that Rose never lets go of the promise.
I love that she goes on and keeps living and does all the things they said they’d do together.
I love it, I love it, I love it. I get goosebumps and all choked up every time I think about it.
& I love how Jack is such a gentleman. I love how he takes away her troubles, shows her love, and saves her life.
He knew he was going to die, but he saved Rose’s life instead of his own.
He didn’t have to say that he loved her for his actions proved so for him.
People always say how there aren’t any Jacks out there, and it is very true, but also there aren’t many Roses either. They are both incredible and my favorite fictional characters out of any book, movie, tv show..
I will always, always, always ship Jack and Rose. Always.
This movie means so much to me.
Sorry. Every single time I look at the Titanic tag, the picture with the different scenarios with the girl and guy playing cards and laying on top of each other on the outline of the wood comes up. Let me enjoy blogging about my favorite movie without your stupidity, please.
..love how this turned in to a whole rant. I hope it even made sense. Sorry guys… ^-^
I don’t love you and I’m not in love with you. That I know.
But why am I like this then… why do I care so much… why do I hurt so much…
Maybe I’ve just always liked the idea of you…?
Maybe because it just seems so unreal for you to pay attention to me…
But, as always with every fucking one, it’s never the attention I need to satisfy me.
I always think that I don’t ask for much because it’s my norm, it’s what I’d give to another person so effortlessly.
But it always is too much because it’s not the other person’s norm…
It’s not how they are, it’s not what they do.
I always feel like I’m fucking being used when all I really want is someone to do things with, someone to spend time with, someone to laugh with, someone to show off to people, someone to hold and kiss, someone who’s just…interested in me and wants to spend time with me and doesn’t ditch me or make me feel stupid or inadequate.
But I can never fucking find that.
Every time I’m romantically or emotionally involved with someone, I’m always not satisfied and upset and lonely.
I’m still wondering if it’s ME, because after the few relationships I’ve had, that’s how I always feel.
Maybe it’s not them, maybe it’s me.
Something’s just not right in my head..
I do hope that I grow as I enter college… I thought I’ve gotten better from last year but I seem to be in a similar mindset… The main difference is that I don’t depend on drugs anymore, although I do believe I’ve been suffering without them, strangely… Has my mind always been weak, or did it die with my drug use for the past three years? I never did have a good memory, but my creativity and thinking skills have seriously deteriorated.. I used to write stories and roleplay all the time from like fifth grade until ninth.. But I’ve felt so slow, stupid, not creative at all.. It’s hard for me to even picture stuff in my head lately. But I can’t tell if it’s a defense mechanism my brain has entered or if I’m going to be like this for the rest of my life… I won’t make it through college if I don’t snap out of this shit. Meanwhile last year I used to do ecstasy and drink and smoke and I would write poetry all the time. But then I stopped all that and I can’t conjure up shit anymore. Gahhhh I hate myself.
Merp. It’s about time I started writing again. Feels good.
I’m glad I’m feeling again. I haven’t in almost a year, I wouldn’t let myself. I wouldn’t even let myself cry since June [other than Titanic, which was recently, so] so to know that I can finally let myself feel again is important to me. But I haven’t felt like this since last year and I mean it’s just so scary. After what I saw before I guess it just brought me here again. Life was going well for a while but I guess things can’t stay like that forever. What do I do with what I saw? How do I confront the people who share the same blood as me, when they’re the ones who cause my grief and anxieties? Blood is not thicker than water..and well, I guess I prove that too. But I learned from the best, didn’t I?
I’m just so scared. What if I end up like everyone else in the world? What if I let pain control me again? What if I don’t succeed and I’m unable to produce a beautiful family? I want what I’ve lacked my whole life and that’s why I crave so much shit, that’s why I get so addicted and obsessed with stories and movies and books and characters and ugh. It’s completely overwhelming. My English teacher pointed out something very true today…we can sit around and blame the people around us but we can’t forever. Yes people have bad lives and they go through so much bad shit but it’s like, your life is YOUR decisions, just as those bad people in your life made their decisions. So do you keep using it as an excuse or do you get up and create what you really want in life? Because at the end of your life it is your decisions that control where you went in your life. & it’s so true. But what I fear is that I won’t be strong enough. I came a long way from where I was last year, but what if I fail again? After before it’s like I’m rattled and I almost feel like how I used to…
I can’t fail. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I will be successful and I will be happy and I will have a beautiful wife or husband and babies to care for and to love and a bunch of animals to take care of and I will be a successful dentist and hopefully proceed to orthodontia. I will…. I will.
Can’ttttt take it anymore, got to give you my all. But my biggest fear is that we’re not the same in how we fall.. Our love is locked up by these walls. Could we rise up to be so tall? Or will I just look like the foolish of them all..? Although it would be nothing new, but what would break my heart is for this love to turn cruel.
Going on a CH mixtape downloading spree. I have most of them, but I must backtrack and get the few that I’m missing.
Even though you fell off this past year,
you’ll always, always, always be my favorite rapper/artist.
You got me through so much stuff the past three years,
I relate to most of your music,
you have the power to make me laugh, smile, and give me the chills with the deep stuff you say,
this sounds crazy but after these few years of listening to you it feels like I know you,
and you’ll probably be one of the few artists I take with me through my life.
The first song I ever heard by you was “Bruce Almighty (Moon Outta The Sky)” and it’s crazy but I remember thinking that you’re going to be one of my favorite artists just from listening to that one song, and you are.
I can’t even explain how much your music means to me.
I’ve laughed with you, smiled with you, fell in love with you, cried with you, and felt crazy with you…
To the people who have doubted you, didn’t understand you, and talked down on you,
fuck them all. You are the greatest and will remain the greatest in the fucking game.
SEGA IS FOREVER.
Have a happy, healthy retirement.
So if your self esteem is low then put your hands up.
And for every single goal they said we can’t touch,
and for every single hoe that couldn’t stand us,
just say fuck ya’ll niggas, I’m moving on.