I don’t speak a word of French yet her music can touch me in the same way any english speaking singer can. There’s just something about French singers: they can successfully cross the language barrier. Not only is this lady talented, she looked/looks fabulous as well.
Its something that gets harder the older you get. Its ideal to get your shit together when you’re young and naive; before you actually experience the horror that is real life. As we all know, real life is not a Julia Roberts movie.
That was my plan initially. Growing up in a single parent home, I knew that real life was not all it was cracked out to be. Thankfully, my mom was kind enough to save me from seeing the extent of how shitty it could truly be. I was an insanely motivated teenager. I was going to be the next Tina Fey, living on the upper west side in a ridiculously tiny apartment “making it”. However, I have briefly lost my mind. Briefly, in the scheme of how long life is, but way too long in my mom’s and frankly my own eyes.
Well what had happened was, I unfortunately fell pray to this crazy little thing I thought was love…one and a half times. It claims the best of us, and ruins pretty much everyone’s life. In my case, I learned a very valuable and painful lesson: people are terrible and mean and will inevitably do whatever the fuck they want and you have just got to get over it and be amazing despite of all the nastiness in the world. Sure, watching Schindler’s List and the actual terrible things going on in the world should’ve alerted me of that fact, but until something horrible happens to YOU, you honestly can’t grasp how disgusting human-kind is. Once you do, you mourn at the loss of your childlike positivity and you gain a new kind of thinking. The adult in you wakes up. This being paired with being cut off from your mom and paying your own bills makes you grow up.
My 2012 was spent falling apart, my 2013 is going to be spend picking myself up and getting my shit together. Like I stated, of course its best to get your shit together when you’re young and naive. I’m still young so I’ve got that going. Now Naive? That ship has sailed, but in truth, you’re never really too old to get your shit together, cause you’re never to old to fall apart.
A lot of folks make these annual declarations of making themselves better. The issue with this is keeping up with them through the short, cold days of winter into the summer and onto the end of the year. I’m proud to say that I somewhat kept up with my only resolution from last year which was to learn how to ride a bike and start biking to work. I did, until I started working early mornings, and you know how 4am wakeup calls feel…they ain’t so nice.
I had the absolute worst year of my life and I can honestly say it made me even more bad ass than before. As a result of the past hell year, my resolution is to stay positive and be more motivated. I’ve been told I can be a negative Nancy, its a side effect of my low self esteem. My goal is by summers end is to move back to the city I love and to do that I gotta simma down nah and FOCUS! I’m gonna save my pennies and start the ball rolling ASAP. I’ve learned the months slip by quickly, so the sooner I push myself the better. That goes for everyone else too!
she sits in the corner staring and contemplating
never letting go, feeling the time slip away
and not caring one bit.
the heartbreaks of her past overcoming her mind.
one by one, repeating.
then suddenly its over.
the pain remains,
just not as before.
her eye lids meet.
Lately I’ve been thinking about moving to Philadelphia instead of my original plan to move back to NYC. I figure I’m young so I can do these kind of things so why not? I brought this thought up to my mom randomly while we were having a nice pleasant supper of Popeye’s and she just starts being so obnoxious, telling me why would I want to do that and I have no family there and I came back once (when I was a retarded 19-year-old in love, mind you) and I’m just like never mind I was just talking out of my ass making conversation I don’t want to talk about this.
Then, (this is the fun part), I got up and I’m like “I don’t want to talk about this, I’m going home.” I’m the one trying to be a mature human being about the escalating fight and then she’s like “You’re gonna end up like your aunt,” who is a middle-aged single lesbian who dropped out of UT Austin to become a bartender and is now an alcoholic working at a taco restaurant. Then I reply with “Wow that’s positive reinforcement,” I get up and BAM!
My mom just threw a remote at me and called me a “cunt”!
Cool. My mom is awesome, right?
I’m steadily walking away and my mom is hitting me and throwing things at me telling me I’m a horrible human being and I’m a giant failure and I walk out the door. All because I mentioned I wanted to move to Philadelphia.
People wonder why I am the way I am. Friends ask me why I have such low self-esteem. Behold, it is my mother which is the root of all problems. Most women have daddy issues, whilst I have the most severe of mother issues. If she’s not careful, she’s going to go the route of Jennifer Aniston and her mother.
I love my mother, I do, but only because I kind of have too. She’s not totally awful and I understand she’s just worried about me but she is so insanely different from me that it makes things very difficult.
I’ve changed immensely in the last few years. Not only do I look like a different person (kinda), I feel like a new man. I’m very proud of the super awesome lady I’m becoming. Part of it is letting go of my mothers overbearing ways. When I lived with her I had terrible self-esteem. I hated life and I had no friends. I never had any urge to do anything or look good. I sometimes feel sad that my mother doesn’t support me like other parents do, but that’s just the way she is. I can’t do anything about it and its time to stop hating myself for it. Me, myself and I! That’s all you should worry about in the first place.
It’s a rite of passage, the ugly phase. Usually it begins in middle school followed by about six years of immense self loathing until around early twenties.
I believe I have finally left my ugly phase.
I never thought I was pretty no matter how much my mom would tell me. You don’t usually listen to your mom when it comes to things like this because as your mother, she is biased because she created you inside of her. However my mom does like to tell me what a horrible person I am but that’s a story for another time.
Anyway, I didn’t think I was attractive at all, even when I met my first boyfriend. He continuously told me how beautiful I was and I honestly did not believe or listen to him the three plus years we were together. I didn’t think I was attractive until I started working where I work now.
Strange, it’s not like I have many admirers or people giving me things or anything, but a combination of learning how to talk to people be they customers or co-workers and forging new friendships, something about that has led to the current confidence I hold. Even though I’ve never faced this must rejection in my entire life (see previous posts), I still feel insanely gorgeous and more beautiful than before. It’s weird, my newly found confidence is a side effect of the insane amount of emotional strife i’ve experienced this year. When I’m most sad I get really good self-esteem. My mind fills up with the most shallow thoughts like “I’m way too pretty for them anyway.” or “They’re just jealous cause I’m way prettier and nicer than them.” Most would say this is a bad thing. It probably is. I like to look at it as a positive. I used to feel shitty about myself all the time, and unfortunately getting sad helped me find my best features.
The advice I would give a young girl married to a book character (example: Me to Harry Potter) would be to put yourself out there. You don’t have to be the most popular person in the wherever you are. I know I sure as hell aren’t and I probably never will be and its ok. Just be out there, make connections no matter how minor. Every interaction helps build your confidence. Experience and knowing you can survive the worst and seemingly scary interactions and events can totally make you feel like a bad ass.
I’ve been in love one and half times. I’ve had one boyfriend my entire life, not counting my kindergarten beau. I’ve had a significant amount of sexual partners. Although I haven’t found the one yet, even though I’m honestly not trying very hard, I know they’re out there and until then I’m gonna spend as much time as I can with the most prettiest girl with a banging body I know. MOI.
She has a big weird nose but she’ll do. I’ll chill with her.
My current inspiration for my life. One of the best artists of our time.
I’ve been single for over a year now. Sure I’d like to be with someone but that isn’t in the stars for me right now. After experiencing my fair share of shitty boys, I’ve come to a great place. For the first time in a while, I actually don’t like anyone right now but myself.
Strange. Real, strange.
My friend used to tell me I was afraid of being alone, but that’s a fear everyone has. However, I’ve been alone, and in my being alone I’ve never felt stronger and sexier and more independent. There are those people that can’t be alone for more then a month or so. I used to think I was one of those people…I’m glad that I’m not. I joke about wanting a boyfriend but the truth is that would be the worst possible thing to happen to me now.
I’m moving back to NYC next year. The biggest regret of my relatively short life is moving up there and staying with my SO at the time. I was young, he was my first everything. I thought it was forever.
Obviously it was not.
So as lame as it can be not having anyone to spend any time with except my work girlfriend, I couldn’t handle being with someone now. Well, I could its just I couldn’t bear ending it which is what I would have to do as soon as I got my ticket to move back to the city that stole my heart.
So you could say that, I’m saving myself for my one and only true love…New York City.
and then the night comes
earlier than before
lonelier than before
i can get through it
i always will
until the darkness of my eyelids overcomes me
ever so slowly
to be awoken unceremoniously
by the bell
the unreal bell
Each year I vow to change for the better
Then something happens
I lose my mind
My grades drop,
My attitude changes
Failures all around.
Make this stop.