Archive for March, 2009

surrender your worst intentions

Life is good. I guess that’s why feeling stressed out or down doesn’t make sense to me right now. Or it didn’t until I stopped picking things apart, dissecting, blaming different general reasons. It was all a lot more simple than that.

Ponder, for a moment, the phrase “creature of habit”. It conjures up all different things for different people. For some people it’s an image of stuffy boring people locked in to schedules and fixed lives day in and day out. For me, it’s… Well it’s me.

I need SOME structure in my life. [Not need but I don’t feel like I’m accomplishing much without some format there.] But I also need freedom. At the same time I like patterns but not exact patterns. More like scatter plots. I am happiest when my life is a scatter plot. I can find my line of best fit and trust that most things will coast along side it without too much deviation, but at the same time constantly changing its position on the graph, moving up or down and left or right. [Analogies…]

Lately things in my life aren’t scatter plotting correctly. They’re not even sine curving or parabola-ing. I’m not even sure that they’re on my part of the graph anymore. Things are shooting off in to infinity.

A lot of it is good. Good ideas. New plans like for our backyard patio, putting a pond in to my garden, building forts, road trips, and getting things done. Other stuff is getting better. And some of it isn’t good. Yin and yang. Good and evil. Light and dark. Balance. Moving on…

Despite the good out-weighing the evil [I haven’t given it any extensive thought yet but I’m fairly certain the good things are out-numbering the bad by a fair amount] it’s still a lot of changes. Change is the only constant in life which, I think, if part of why I like when little things are constantly re-tweaking themselves in tiny ways few other people notice. But when big things come, even if they’re good things, they feel overwhelming. I start to feel like I’m spiraling out of control and I’ll never get anything done which makes it a lot harder to start.

I feel out of balance. I’m a libra, a scale. If you don’t believe in astrology, that’s fine, but it doesn’t change the fact that I seek balance in my life [even though that balance isn’t necessarily a 50-50 split or along the same contrasting lines as for other people, like work and play are]. All the changing stuff leaves me grasping on to the fragments of unchanged things or of the past and choking the life out of it.

It’s hard for me not to fixated a little and obsess a little and fret and fuss right now. This used to be how I lived day to day anyways back when I was a high strung angst monster. Now I’m laid back and I’ve changed a lot but this… I don’t know. The way things are now is new in its own rite.

I feel like I’ve lost my anchor. I’m having trouble finding something to hold on to. The things I think I do have increasingly feel like they’re slipping away and so I’m sitting around with ridiculous hopes and expectations and reaching out for reassurance that these things I depend on and that I think I know are true aren’t going to leave.

O ye of little faith. I know. I have no business questioning half of what my mind has been on their respective levels.

I guess everyone… No. I guess I like having reassurance once in a while. I like hearing things are the way I perceive them. I like being told it’s gonna be okay [but only when the person saying it means it… I don’t like lies].

Maybe that’s why I’m flakey lately one minute and then overly girly and clingy and odd the next. Callous defense mechanism to reaching out in the most estrogen driven, annoying and destructive of ways. I don’t wanna do that and lose what I have. That’s how stuff like that happens. At the same time I’m finding it hard to let go and just keep faith in these things I think I know.

I’m trying though and constantly reminding myself of the little good things that can’t be wrong like the fact that is IS spring, or the fact that my crocuses are poking their heads up through the dead grass.

Maybe most other things are sort of sketchy and unknown. Stuff that felt certain, emotions, people… It’s all starting to feel foreign and strange and wrong. The cynical part of my brain is trying to insert itself there and cut me off from depending on anyone or anything I know and the conscious part is reaching out to everyone to hold on to bonds my inner cynacist [too bad that’s not a real word] won’t be able to break through.

It sounds crazy and schitzy and maybe, just maybe, it is. On the other hand maybe I’m not the only person who feels like that.

Nothing little is over rated. It’s that whole “no act of kindness, no matter how small, goes unnoticed” thing coming in to play.

I don’t know about the rest of the human race but most of my favorite memories or happiest little moments were just small things. Little cutesy considerate things. The kind of things that no one ever thinks twice about. They make all the difference. Thoughtful stuff.

I’m one to talk about any of that considering how thoughtless I’ve felt off and on lately. And probably been too. So maybe little things only mean anything to me. But sometimes those are the only things I’ve got to hold on to in my head and in my heart when things like spring and the flowers just aren’t quite enough.

That’s often bitter sweet but it’s getting better every day. Eventually this will all settle out into a pattern again. Spring is here. The circumstances of my life are better than they have been for a long time in the ways most important to me. Sooner or later all of that has to pan back out into that constant puddle of obnoxious joy my life was before.

Even my optimism sounds forced.

I just want a better handle on what’s real, and on who’s real, and on what’s here, and on what I can count on.


smile bright, sunshine.

Truth be told, I think you’re too sane and oriented for me.

I’m not going to tell you this though. Someday when I’ve fazed you out, maybe you’ll get the picture. But you’ll probably just think I’m a bitch.

That’s okay. I am.

if i were you i’d hate me too

Hate can spurn from about two hundred gagillion different things. One of them is jealousy. I know plenty of people who don’t like me. In many cases it’s just because I’m this random weird outspoken hippie chick with a blatant disregard for all things conventional. In most other cases it’s minor dislike often in acquaintances or casual friends. It is in those cases that it comes from jealousy.

It’s with good reason though. I’m not artificially pretty. I actually have good looks. You know the kind I mean… Skinny but with hips and a figure. Tan skin. Dark hair and eyes. Good bone structure. Adorable little smile dimples. Everything I do is basically, like, the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. You can’t see me and think “ew” [well… maybe if I’m in rare form… emphasis on rare]. And if you look on with contempt and disgust… Hello green monster of envy. How nice of you to join us!

Moving on. I’m smart. Not like oh-my-God-I-can-spell-most-words-correctly-without-MSWord-correcting-me smart but like I’m basically a genius smart. Yes I have altered and fried my brains a lot but guess what fuckers? Studies show brain cells DO regenerate. Suck on that one critics and skeptics of the world. I can’t be stopped even by my own poor decisions and chemical bodily warfare. I’m invincible. [I’ve probably just jinxed myself…]

I’m fun. Yes I swear and bitch and I’m sarcastic and make no mistake, I WILL beat up on you. I don’t care who you are. I will pick, fuss, scrap, slap, whatever. It’s in my blood. But when it comes down to it I’m almost always a good fucking time. I don’t care if you’re laughing with me or at me, you’re gonna be smiling. Everything about me screams little and cute and people are attracted to that. Oh yeah. I’ve got charisma and spunk built in with my appearance. I don’t even have to have a good personality.

And yet I do. A great one. A magnificent one. Bueno mucho blah blah awesome excellent. Fucking amazing. There is a reason I have Jesus status. The bad things about me are pretty much limited to PMS, SAD, laziness and infrequent co-dependent tendencies. Beyond that, nope. I’ve even managed to beat that little bastard fondly known as bipolar disorder [cyclothymia but no one knows what that is] into the ground sans drugs. You try doing that. For 18 years. You tell me how easy it is kay? [It’s not. I’m really JUST THAT win.]

I took SATs today and was surprised by how easy they were. But now it’s midnight and I can’t sleep and I smell like cigarette smoke and to be 100% honest it’s simply too cold to go out walking. The only real stress on my mind is that I would like to have a job [hmm… well what the fuck else is new?]. That’s not ENTIRELY true…

But I really feel like I’m slowly digging in to the dirt and finding the roots of Sarah again. Just like my damn crocuses… Sun comes out. Temperatures spike up. BAM! Sarah’s back in action baby.

I have survived another turbulent and angst filled winter in cold as balls Pennsylvania. I’ve even held on to this new relationship through it all. [I hate being involved in winter. I’m always bitter, depressed, clingy and moody. It really makes keeping things from crashing and burning a challenge where, normally, I do nothing but exist and carry about life as usual.]

Might have something to do with actually being in love again. Who knows? I know I see a pattern developing and it’s the same one that wove itself into the fabric of my life before. But it started differently and the variables aren’t the same. Hopefully it doesn’t end in the same stitch. Que sera sera. Everything happens for a reason. For now, I’m not worrying about it. I’m simply hoping that with groundations coming to a close, spring arriving, and boy having fun adventures with his buds to look forward to, well, both of us can be in better moods. All of this off and on moody stuff is really getting old. So is the weather.

And the fact that all of our visits for the past, like, month and a week have been limited to laying around or sitting in cars for short bursts of time doesn’t help. Relationships can’t live in that sort of boring stale environment. Especially this one. It’s based around freaky coincidences, hate, love, and largely random trips and adventures and what not. We do random things. They’re always completely stupid and always completely fun [but I’m pretty damn sure only to us…]. This laying around being stuck thing is boring and corrosive.

Three more days til groundation termination. Cross your fingers and toes. Six days til spring. 55 more days of school.

Summer days, drunken nights, and one red couch in a basement nearly twenty miles from here. [And a kiddy pool. That’s kind of the most important part. And the fort too. Yeah…] The first three months of any year don’t count to me. The mood and tone are set come April. Why? I don’t know but it seems to be more of an apex in the advance of years than any New Year’s Eve ever is. This year April will be good. I know there will be a time or two that will make me cringe or crumple my face in disgust and/or aggravation but over all I can’t see anything but blue skies and smiles ahead [especially with the travesties of the past 2 and half months at its back in contrast].

I can feel the uneven spots in my shirt sleeve where it had to be mended. It’s just as pressing, annoying, crushing, and distracting and the obvious tension and unrest growing in the air. Cut it with a knife or poke it with your mental finger of curiosity. To some sense, it’s tangible. Guaranteed. But yin and yang. The world balances itself out. The rest of the year isn’t capable of being anything but orgasmic. I can’t quite say how yet, and even I have become a skeptic, but I still have faith that one way or another, it’ll come through for me.

Time will tell. Until then, we wait it out with synthetic good-times and lots of sex to pass the time. Wait… Did I just recap 2009 up until now in two actions? Hmm… Theory.

january 17th

This is a response I got to the blog I posted on January 17th.

“this is fucking GAY nobody wants to hear about this shit
i was expecting some lsd talk or something fuck
go trip some cid and get layed”

APPARENTLY I can’t title my own blog posts what I want and apparently I’m a virgin again and not practically a nympho. Gosh. Learn something new everyday I suppose.

Newsflash: 1: If you’re gonna go spouting your negative bullshit all over the internet and insult ME at least have the balls to leave your real name and not something as stupid as “fuck”.
2: You don’t even know me so why the hell do you care? When you started reading and it obviously wasn’t about LSD there’s a simple solution; hit the back button or close your browser. But really, you wasted your time reading that whole thing and then typing out a comment about it? And you’re going to insult me? Right… And I’m the one being insulted here.

This is MY blog. I will blog about whatever the hell I want. If it doesn’t suit you, ugh duh, don’t read it. But don’t come around and waste your time reading stuff just to react like an asshole and leave some inane comment about it. No shit no one wants to read it. No one wants to read most of what I put here. I don’t write here to appease the masses. I write here for me you dumb-ass piece of shit.

If you want entertained go waste your time playing with yourself or something. Don’t both people like me who really don’t care to here your immature ridiculous bullshit.

And the word is “laid” you incompetent ass. Go out and educate yourself. And for the love of God, don’t procreate.

Go out and get laid… Jesus Christ. What a stupid piece of shit… Cause I never get laid… Fuck anyways.