She dreams that she had the courage to be happier.
Hello blog, it's been a while. I've been afraid of writing about the same things over and over again. Plus I don't think many people read this much anymore. I'm not sure how much I want to reflect on my thoughts or my life or current events anymore. What happens happens. And sometimes it hurts too much to think about it...
I'm 20 years old, I've yet to hold a real job, I don't drive, I still technically live with my parents, and I've just declared a major that I'm a bit unsure about. I don't know where I'm going, but I know where I've been. Sometimes I go back, and sometimes I almost take a step forward.
Growth is slow. Healing is slow. Sometimes I wish growth could grow quicker, but I know it takes a crisis for something so drastic. And I would like my life to get a little easier, frankly.
Sometimes when you put your life in perspective, things aren't so bad. But I'd like to be self-centered for a while.
I was told that sometimes selfishness isn't a bad thing, that we need to be able to satisfy our own needs in order to be happy with satisfying others. My dad always told me that we're here to serve others--the community, however it may be defined. Which is always a good idea, and I firmly believe it... but maybe he forgot to tell us that selflessness can be too much sometimes. I think I've undergone that fate sometimes... To most, I'm fairly submissive, go-with-the-flow, sure-whatever-you-want-to-do. (My vocabulary needs expanding) I've been rebuked and even scolded at by some of my friends for not being more aggressive with stating my needs and wants. Sometimes I can't help it... it just seems that my needs aren't nearly as important as everyone else's. The way I grew up? Perhaps. My parents do a hell of alot of selfless things too. My mom's a nurse (hectic and demanding job) and my dad's gonna be a lawyer. Not a rich in-you-face lawyer. He's gonna go work with Indian tribes, which will NOT make him rich.
Why do I bother writing these things down? People tell me that it's good to write down your thoughts, that it helps.. but you know what's scary? Sometimes I'm scared to know my thoughts, cause I know exactly what they really are...
I'm so scared of being alone. Is it an irrational fear? It can lead me to do irrational things... like be around people for the sake of being around people.
Can I have real friends who understand me and who will stick by me? Or will I have conviniences for unlonliness for a while?
Can I care about them? Will they care about me?
I'm willing to care about people, so long as they give me reason to care. I like to be caring.
And soemtimes I don't like to be caring. Cause sometimes I feel like the only one, and that's being alone again...
Sometimes I really feel like I'm doing more caring than the other person does. But then again, maybe it's only an illusion. I WANT to care about them, but, maybe even more so that than, I want them to care about me.
It doesn't help that I've still yet to find what will help me through this world. What will spark me up and won't let me down. What'll be the secret to happiness. What'll be there for me whenever I'm in need. What I can do for people.
I don't deserve, I don't deserve, I don't deserve. What the hell DO I deserve anyway?
Three legged coyote's still running...
It's July 5th. After July 4th. I'd spell out significances, but I don't feel like it.
I'm writing on this thing to feel included. It was inspired by one of my friends. I hope he's a real friend... sometimes it doesn't feel like it. No one's really revealing themselves to me... I try my best, but sometimes they don't seem interested in hearing it. So far, in my immediate circle, there's only one who's been interested in me and my past and such... There's another, she and I never really had a chance to bond too much more. And another, she'll be gone next year. And another... but my history with that one is far and gone...
Will I ever be strong enough to rebuild a burnt down bridge? The mountain quaked, the supports snapped, and I cut the last rope. And retied it, and cut it, and picked it up, and dropped it again. It's still lying htere... sometimes I trip over it.
South Park is funnier than I ever thought it would be. I'll need to watch more episodes of that, and Family Guy, and Futurama, and the Simpsons, and all those great cartoons I've missed out on. Venture Bros is great too.
My fingers are moving, my head is tweaking, and my eyes are unhappy with me. My heart's in a sluggy state, though... no sharp pains yet. But something's brewing... something always is. I've carried so many weights now...
It's been too long since I've written, I can't organize my thoughts anymore, I can't draw the way I used to... all my loves are dying. That was emo, gah.
To love, and be loved.
It always comes down to that.
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