Why It's Worth IT!
Friday, January 28, 2011
There have been so many people that have put me down, told me ďyouíd never be anythingĒ, ďyouíre nothing special,Ē told me that there was nothing remarkable about me and that I had nothing to look forward to.
I have always been the butt of jokes.
Iíve come so fucking far.
Iím so fucking proud of myself.
And I know that this job is not the end-all-be-all. I donít expect it to be. But donít expect me to half-ass it either. Iím determined to succeed even in the force of the people who have always doubted me.
Iím going somewhere.
Iím being somebody.
Iíve made sacrifices in the past 10 weeks that Iím not proud of. But itís my job and I need to get this shit done so I can have a paycheck every two weeks. Am I proud of it? Fuck no. But it gets me that much closer to the right door.
I feel like everyone here is just Ö too happy with what they have going on now.
Like, happy to just go to the same places and get wasted night after night and fuck all of the same people and shmooze with all of the same faces. Happy to go back to their boring jobs and accept their minimum wage hours and wake up every day doing the same goddamn thing. Complacent with the idea that if they lived here and did the same thing every day for the rest of their lives, that theyíd be fine with that.
And thatís just. Not. Me.
Iím not that person at all.
I see more for myself than that.
I have bigger dreams.
I know that I am 100% capable of achieving more with this. I donít want to waste it in this fucking dead-end town where opportunity comes to die. I want to get out there and make something of myself and show the world what I can do.
I donít want to waste my life.
You're Out of Your Mind
Thursday. 1.27.11 11:28 am
I canít comprehend why you would drink every night. Iíve thought about this over and over. Repeatedly asking myself, what have I done wrong?
But Iíve realized, maybe itís not me. Itís you.
You drink because youíre unhappy.
You drink to numb the pain.
You drink to overcome your emotions.
You drink because youíre selfish.
When you drink, you become nothing but scum underneath my shoes .
Drinking may make you feel oh so cool, make you so awesome, but how is it so great when you canít even remember the good things that happened? What happens when you donít find yourself home, rather lying half dead in a ditch? Or knowing youíve woken up in the wrong bed?
One day youíll wake up and weíre simply not there. Does that moment become your last time?
You make it so easy for me to walk away and never think of you again.
Are Men Physical Lovers?
Friday. 10.29.10 9:44 am
Or is it just me? I can't recall the last time my husband and I were ever physically engaged. When I say physically engaged, I'm talking about the simple things in life: hugs, kisses, and lying in bed embraced. Oh, and that too. Sex. It must be wishful thinking, but I thought that all men, no matter what age, fantasize 24/7 about women. What man, in his right mind, would turn down sex? Especially if you could have the loving every night? It's not like I don't want it, sometimes, I even beg for it. Of course I get some, but I just want more of it. Why not?
I get it, long days at work, annoying toddler sleeping in the middle, but hey, who says you can't do it on the floor? Or in the bathroom? On the stairwell? There are plenty of other spaces in the house. And mind you, it's our house! In the private sanctions of your own home, I have the right to have sexual relations where ever, however, and as often as I please.
Then why don't we? I've had my fair shair of denials, I admit that. But as a woman, I feed on the pleasures of romance; whether it be sexually or not, it's the pleasure of feeling wanted and needed that fulfills me. If we can't afford sex every night, can't we cuddle? And don't tell me that twitching your leg upon mines is pleasureful.
Seriously, what kind of man wouldn't want this every night?
I've come crawling back...
Thursday. 10.28.10 3:02 pm
...in hopes that no one will find me :) Sometimes, I just want to be left alone to my imagination.
Seal of Secrecy
Monday, November 27, 2006
Disclaimer: The following is a fictional literary composure of board room meetings. Due to lack of secrecy, the character's name and identity will not be revealed.
I feel so disconnected from everything. Emotionless, in a sense. And in another, full. Too full.
Today I sat through a meeting just past noon, letting my eyes gaze numbly through the window that lay perpendicular to me, all of Manhattan stretching out before me, its gray sky swallowing the tops of buildings. To both sides of me were their concerned faces -- brows wrinkled, eyes fixed upon me. Its like they were looking right through me.
Notes were scrawled in black in a small lined book which I duly noted was perfectly kept, not a crease in it. I tried to see exactly what was being written, but the ink fell from its pen too quickly and in lines too small to be legible from where I was sitting.
I've become little words on paper; a file; a case.
And yet they still don't know my secret that I've kept so well concealed beneath this flesh. I may be unraveling at the seams and spilling out in every which way, but its still here. I'm still here.
For the Life of Me
Monday, November 13, 2006
Would you please STFU!
I am overly aggrevated with all the galling screams and chaos. PLEASE! I beg you. Allow me the pleasures of unadulterated silence and tranquility.
I am dysfunctional
Friday, November 3, 2006
I write not in forms or word or language, but in complex unison of thought from oppression and exasperation. Writing does not commence with the self, but the collective.
My previous entry depicts the social extremes of health diets; one of many struggling matters dealt by Americans. A diet is none other than ‚Äúa particular selection of food, esp. as designed or prescribed to improve a person's physical condition or to prevent or treat a disease‚ÄĚ (Webster‚Äôs).
As a competent web addict, I managed to stumble upon a well-known and familiar blogging site (one I shall not name). I was appalled and dumbfounded by the numerous pages of advocacy, promotion, optimism, and comfort in this so called diet. There were pages after pages of praise and endorsement of depriving the body of its essential nutrients. It was petrifying to read the endless entries of their works. Did I mention; many of the young women and men, yes men, are under the age of sixteen.
Social conformities! Deviation is no longer from the norm. Mediocrity! It‚Äôs disheartening and unfortunate that our behaviors correspond with socially acceptable standards, conventions, and rules. Where does the individual stand?
*I did not write the previous entry as a member of the association; however, I did write it for them.
I'm having an affair
Thursday, November 2, 2006
I spent my horrendously long day at work today running entirely on an empty stomach; vehemently refusing all offers of food and drink. "You look frail," I was told, my face turned pale and my body shaking. Embarrassingly, I quickly scampered to the break room for a fulfilling swig of H2O.
I never, ever want to eat again. I suppose that's a given, but I love teetering like this, always having to be wary of my weak body and always having to think twice to make sure I keep myself upright. Always the girl with the least food on her plate. ...walking the tight rope between two extremes (perhaps living and dying), safely removed from all of it.
Or am I?
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