damn, one of my dreams is to just live like a normal person. go out to eat. buy nice, new clothes. go to the movies. go anywhere. be able to afford shit and eat healthy meals. enjoy my hobbies instead of feeling like they’re a chore. have healthy relationships. have a healthy body. do shit. and maybe, if i’m lucky, know what the fuck i want to do with my life. these are my goals and dreams. they might seem like just “normal life” but to me, lately, they seem far away.
god it sucks when the people you care about lose interest in you. it feels like i’m a pathetic little buoy straining and trying its hardest to keep a sinking tanker afloat. overcompensating and trying, trying, trying to generate as much positivity and strength to just barely negate the negativity. exerting all my energy to salvage–or remain in denial of–the miserable situation. it’s like the people i love just decided to give up on any kind of relationships with me. but dammit, can’t they see how hard i’m trying? how hard i’m smiling, the stupid jokes, exerting all my energy for a little lightheartedness? hell, making a fool of myself just to get a smile. from strangers, even. anyone. this straining takes its tole. by the end of the day i’m exhausted. and in the end, the negativity is stronger, easier, more pervasive, so it wins
who knew it was so great to be a woman in america!?
ha, clever. too bad this is hillary literally admitting that all she has going for her is the fact that she happens to be a woman, nevermind that she’s a fucking evil warpig
wounded by the people who i thought i could trust and who i thought loved me
a deep, sharp heart-ache
drawings for my MFA thesis exhibition, “The Flood,” showing at cranbrook museum april 16 to may 15. there they all are, right there
holy shit
i bought a $4 mascara today #splurge
hello Babies, how are all of U. in case there is someone who still contemplates my blog….. ( echo )
i’m always surprised and disappointed about how much hatred i still hold inside of me. i dont kno if its some kind of residual hate from Puberty or what…but it sits in my chest, smoldering. i can feel it, physically….it’s probably going to give me cancer eventually ( echoing )
i should see a therapist or something, i think. i hate therapy, from the few times i have tried it at least, but now that i think about it, i really should. because this Hate doesn’t go away. sometimes it actually feels more like Frustration…i have been having a sucky past few weeks, v. stressful and difficult. during which the Hate became unbearable at times. the Hate is directed at people, places, things, everything–i am frustrated with the insincerity of people and am constantly impressed by the effortlessly shitty things they are capable of doing-and that they do!
problems with my dear partner who i adore, but whom i also stress about frequently. problems with him because i’m pretty incapable at communicating like an effective adult
i am going to be moving very soon into a better living situation, and i am going to get a kitten!!!! as a gift to myself. i have dealt with many shitty things but handled them relatively well ( i think ) and deserve a lil bundle of joy, dont u THINK
byebye for now Hunnies
