i'm with you in rockland

I can feel you on the wind, running through the universe, and across my mind…

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I just wanna say me and my boyfie would be really great but there’s just something missing and we’re fundamentally different and just generally have an expiration date and everybody’s just waiting especially that girl Bitchtits for us to break up which is going to be soon.

Like, our physical chemistry is great, okay. But we obviously just don’t see the concept of “losing it” the same. And I know that my grammar is bad here but this a rant so just deal with it. I’m much more liberal and he’s way conservative and I’m scared that I’m gonna really just break his heart if he loses “it” to me and I just dump him later. 

We really don’t have much in common and I’m super tired of his lack of punctuation and frequent misspellings and just constantly having to explain myself when I ramble on about something he doesn’t know. I’m sure he’s tired of my annoying weird horny ass too.

Don’t get me wrong; he is sweet, kind, friendly, and hot, but he’s just not for me. 

kpchristensen:

the bottom line here is that i love learning but i hate school because school drains everything good from you and replaces it with anxiety and depression and feelings of inadequacy in people that are incredible and talented and skilled

(I really gotta stop with these unbelievably creative blog post titles or else I might end up winning a Pulitzer Prize in Journalism. Watch out, Anderson Cooper…)

I had a bad dream. A woman with long hair on fire (presumably of Japanese origin, because she seemed like a character in one of those very scary Japanese movies) was chasing me in a building in Pittsburgh … ??? It’s really weird, since I’ve never been, or have much interest in going there. Not only that, within the building, there were stairs. Underneath the stairs was a guy with long blond untamed hair claimed to be Jesus and told me and another person, possibly my cousin Miggy, to believe in him or something like that. I was surprisingly cynical and thought that the guy might need psychological help. I did ponder the possibility of him actually being the messiah or whatever but I ultimately didn’t buy it. That’s kind of weird and maybe a Freudian attempt of my brain to present the contrast between me and my overly faithful mother. Yep. I said it. She’s overly faithful. My grandmother is a faithful person too, more so than Mom, but aside from praying a lot and and being an overall kind person, she isn’t at all obsessive. My Mom, however, insists that we pray in the car every time we leave the house and insists that she’s always right, right, right, and any other way that people choose to proclaim their spirituality (or lack of) is simply wrong. She’s really rude about it and maybe that’s why I had to have had that Jesus part of the dream.

Well, the morning was rather uneventful and I watched my shows with my grandma. My mom needed to get something for her feet and she told me we would go to the mall afterwards and that she’d get me stuff. I told I really don’t deserve it since I did extremely poorly on my classes this semester. She said she still wants to get me stuff. 

Long story short, she got me two sweaters and she complained that she had a headache so she spent the rest of the day being basically a bitch the whole way. I saw really cute stuff in Abercrombie, American Eagle, and Urban Outfitters and realized that a couple hundred dollars would basically get me my dream wardrobe. Yeah, whatever. I’m really vain, okay? Somehow I feel inadequate if my clothes are crappy. I mean, I really try to present myself well most of the time. But God knows it’s just never good enough. 

Something I’ve noticed all my life that was especially evident today is that people look at me wherever I go. Is it ‘cause I’m ugly? Is it ‘cause my outfit? Am I awkward? Clumsy? Unattractive? Fat? Can people smell weirdness? Ahh, these are things I’ll never understand. And also why people are either really receptive or really rude to me. I don’t know. I guess I just don’t get people. I don’t really understand how they can go on with their lives, going through the motions, without even noticing a little how absurd it is. Because believe me, if they did they’d be just as weird as me. And it’s sad, I’m naturally really outgoing, but through the years I’ve been more and more introverted because I guess the way I am just turns off people, and it hurts me to try to reach out to them and just get shut out. 

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I should probably give you a recap on what I did for Christmas. It was really the lamest Christmas ever.

I woke up at seven in the morning because my brothers are very noisy when they go to the bathroom and I’m sleeping in the room right next to it. I don’t think I have to tell you that I went straight to my phone and onto tumblr and I pretty much stayed there, on the floor, until lunch when I got the warning that we were leaving in one hour. Wow. 

I wore the same dress I wore to the Christmas vigil mass that my very Catholic family insists on attending every single year. I’m actually more of an agnostic myself, and I disagree with the Church’s doctrine of predestination and accepting your fate because I’m a through-and-through existentialist. (Oooh! I also disagree on the rule that you have to wait until marriage to have sex because, come on. I believe that these are our natural instincts, but more on that later). So anyway, I wore the same outfit pretty much and it kinda made me depressed because I realized how poor I am now. I brought my AP US textbook so I could do the four chapters my teacher Mr. Ethen assigned me over winter break instead of having to talk to the kooky religious people who are way too excited about the details (not even the holiness or anything of intrinsic value) about a birth that happened +2000 years ago.

“Did you know it was 0 degrees out when Jesus was born? It was cold enough to snow! It was a miracle.” 

There’s literally no way fucking possible to know that, moron. Seriously. Anyway, I saw my old friend Taper at the party, along with Lara and Anya. I pretty much just went on blogthings on the computer. They let out their rabbit, Buggsy, and I got kinda scared. How pathetic. I’m really lame. I thought it was gonna bite me, too. Lara and Anya saw that I was rather hesitant in approaching Buggsy and I explained to them that David Lynch has a really eerie, unsettling short movie called Rabbits and proceeded to show it to them on Youtube. Then I showed Anya, a seven-year-old, the music videos to Time to Pretend and Kids by my favorite band MGMT. Poor girl was terrified. I must be a psycho or something. But she came back and I pretty much just hung out with her the whole time. I also tried to play the violin and squeaked out the chorus melody of “Can’t Help Falling in Love with You,” but sounded awful. Anyway, we went home and In-N-Out was closed so we went to McDonalds for the second holiday in a row.

I was texting my boyfriend the whole day too. He’s really nice and hot. If you go on my links page, Stranger, you’ll find my youtube and the playlist (the one called Autumn ‘12) I made last fall which mostly consists of songs that I listened to when he and I first got together last October. He’s also very sweet, and I can’t help but feeling he’s way too good of a person for me. Maybe I need somebody just as messed up as me. I asked him to stay up all night with me, but I ended up falling asleep. I felt really bad, since I won’t see him until school gets back. And other things… I really don’t see us lasting, because he’s gonna find out that I’m annoying and stuck up, and I’m finally gonna explode because of his faulty grammar but whatever. See how bitchy I am? However, he was the only thing that made my Christmas good, and I’m thankful for that.

(Wow, what a completely imaginative way to name the first post on your blog!)

Anyway…

Um, I have massive issues, and I’ve been told that letting things out by writing on a blog would help make things better. Yeah, right. I almost always refrain from mentioning that I already do have a blog, several in fact, that are on a private setting. That’s because I don’t want nosy ass people (like YOU, probably, whoever might be reading this) to know my inner thoughts and emotions. You might think that I have issues with expressing myself, but that’s not the case. In person, I have absolutely no filter and I just talk non-stop about whatever silly thing comes to mind. Perhaps that’s saying something. I never talk about anything important, at least not anymore. I wish I could go back to the time when I was fourteen and bohemian and a bookworm and had everything figured out. I was gonna move to New York or San Francisco or Paris or Barcelona or Prague or Saint Petersburg and become an artist of some sort, either a writer or a musician. Which is entirely amusing because I actually only kind of play one instrument (piano) and cannot even sight read on the spot. Ahh, foolish me.

Anyway, if you really must know one thing about me, it’s that I’ve been absolutely in love with this one boy with whom I’ve been going to school for the past three years. Nope, it’s not one of those stories that are like “Ooh, I’m in luv with this hottie in my English class and he is such a total babe! I wish he’d hit me up so we could watch a movie and go ice-skating and do all the other things dumb smitten teenagers would do!” 

No. I assure you with all my heart and with what little is left of my soul that I am truly in love with this boy, as Don Quixote loved Dulcinea. It’s quite fitting, because like our beloved fallen knight, I happen to think that the one I’m in love with is pretty much perfection. Which is really pitiful and oh-so-pathetic in this day and age. First is because our society has deemed outdated the notion of emotion (it’s all about being cool now, Gertrude. Don’t you read the papers? No? Wait, that’s a goner now too.). And secondly, this guy doesn’t even care! It’s another thing if you’re a shy little freshman girl and you’re crushing on the quarterback senior class president with whom you don’t share any classes with. That means he just doesn’t notice you. What’s really sad is when he sees you and notices you (because God knows you try) and knows you’re alive but just… doesn’t care. Literally no effort is being made to reach out to you or get to know you because he doesn’t think you’re special enough. That hurts especially, because I’m narcissistic and I have this inherent belief that I should never approach people first because I’m super awesome and everybody is a peasant (kidding!). But I guess not, right?