fact isn’t what you see, not anymore

i keep cycling through being overjoyed & optimistic, and depressed, paranoid, and irritable.

i don’t know what is going on in my mind. i feel really frustrated and nervous and scared, but also happy, satisfied, and at peace. i don’t know how to describe it. my anxiety is killing me i think.

i haven’t really been eating much. i feel shaky and tired.

things are going better than expected. only time will tell how everything will turn out. for now, i’m going to continue the emotional rollercoaster that is my existence, and hope really hard that things turn out.

there’s a ten hour time difference between us, but me and nafees talk everyday pretty much, somehow. it’s like we’ve fallen back into the closeness we had when we were younger, easily. and it’s even easier now. we both have smart phones and can message each other instantly instead of using a glitchy poetry website to communicate. it’s nice.

it’s the fourth of july and i’m sick of listening to illegal fireworks going off to celebrate freedom. like, it is legal to buy them in the city but illegal to set them off. america makes sense so little sometimes. i’m off to bed ~~

killing it with close inspection. killing it can only make it worse, it sort of makes it breed

i’m avoiding my mom. haven’t talked to her or even seen her since she came home. what’s the point? she’s not going to apologize, and i’m not going to apologize. not this time. i always end up apologizing to people just to get rid of the whole situation. i take the blame. i remember when i was little, and i learned the word scapegoat. i remember thinking, ‘that’s me’. i just let the blame rain down on me. i was once literally told that i had ruined christmas. lolol. and i was what, 12? and i believed it for the longest time, that i was the bad kid, the troubled child. fuck, i still half believe it. and now i’m the bad adult, the troubled adult. i miss being a troubled child. no….. i don’t. back then when people told me what i was, i believed them. no matter how terrible or contrary to reality it was. and although their words still echo through my head forever, i’m believing the words less and less.

still, i have that stupid feeling where tears are just beneath the surface. like if anyone asked me if i was okay, i would start bawling. i am okay though. i’m totally okay. this too shall pass.

after all the laughter, emptiness prevails

my therapist got a new puppy, as one of her dogs died. she loves daschunds. his name is murphy. he is still too young to know his name, and so he just kind of ignores ya, unless you seem really interesting, or are wearing shoes that are fun to bite (i was). she brought him on friday. here he is in all of his glory:

FullSizeRender

no photo could ever capture how tiny and precious he is.

i got mad at my mom the other day. totally blew up at her through text. stupid sarah…

now i’m terrified. she’s coming home later today. it’s about 7, i’ve been up for a few hours. i work later today. she hasn’t texted me back at all.

in good news, i’ve been talking to nafees, that guy from pakistan. he seems happy, which i’m happy about. the place he lives is gorgeous. i remember researching swat when i knew him years ago. queen elizabeth visited it once, decades ago, and referred to it as the switzerland of the east, due to the idyllic mountain scenery.

i remember describing to him the black hills in south dakota when i was about to take a trip there. lol the closest thing to mountains i’d ever experienced. i mean, i’ve been to switzerland, but airports don’t count.

i’ve been watching cartoons in my spare time. it’s sad. i’ve run outta good grown-up shows. well, i’ve been watching a show called killing eve, which i find funny, though i’m not sure it’s always supposed to be funny.

the cartoons i choose to watch are steven universe, which was actually a show i didn’t initially “get”. i retried it months later, and then got hooked on it. the second show is star vs. the forces of evil, which is so different than what i thought it would be. it kind of reminds me of a magical girl style anime, but better. i didn’t like it at first but someone online recommended it, and i wanted to see it through. and before i knew it, i’d run out of episodes. i will be the first to admit i’m childish, but at least the childish things i partake of have actual plots. i mean, there are a few standalone episodes, but they fit in with the grand scheme in their own way.

whatever. both shows are on hiatus right now, and so i’m sad. i think i’m going to try taking up watercolor painting again. i suck at it, it’s hard. but i’m going to try. lol, i could paint fanart. hahaha. i always wanted to be that kind of person.

i’m still waiting to hear back from the college i applied for. i sent them my official previous college transcripts and everything, and they’ve received them, and now i just gotta wait.

i’ll still see you in everything

tl; dr: i’m sad but it’s all okay. lol why didn’t i just type that to begin with. could’ve saved myself so much time.

 

i try not to say too much to people sometimes, because i’m terrified, honestly, of saying something i’ll regret. saying something wrong. even online, i kick myself sometimes for speaking up to people in forums. i am really rather opinionated, about all sorts of dumb things, but half the time people wouldn’t know it because i don’t say anything.

i have not yet regretted staying silent, but i have regretted things i have said. not to say that there’s anything wrong with standing up for what you believe in. i’m just obsessed with being right, so what if later on i find out my thought process was flawed, or i was just flat out wrong in what i said? i can’t continuously issue retractions and clarifications on things i have said. i’d look like a constantly erroneous idiot. like our president, for instance. though i couldn’t actually see he who must not be named admitting he was wrong or restating things in a clear, intelligible manner. what was it he said, again? covfefe? lol, it will always be funny and sad to me.

idk… i guess i worry too much about everything. i just gotta realize most people don’t care what i say, lol. they aren’t going to be picking apart my words and phrases with the same care in which i would.

something’s been bothering me the last few days.

my brother is actually my half-brother, with a different father than mine. his dad has turned into quite an awful person. no. he’s always been awful. he told my brother that he was a disappointment. and this is after my brother graduated college, and is going to be moving to minneapolis, minnesota to work as an emt to gain clinical hours, so he can then go to school to be a physician assistant. he is a smart, talented, capable kid, who any good father would be proud of.

but, to make it about me, as usual. i cried at the idea of my brother being told he was a disappointment, almost scoffed at it, as my mom said something similar about me being a disappointment years ago when i was at a particular low. and this was during a time when i had nobody but my mom. people just like to kick when you’re already down.

it’s ironic. her acting all angry and dismayed that he could be such a terrible person to say that to his son. as if it were anywhere near enough to the truth to hurt?! when she has said something identical to her daughter?!

i guess it’s okay to say it if it’s obviously true.

to hear her getting upset about adam’s dad, who has never been an actual father to his son, saying it to adam, who is probably the most well-rounded and well-adjusted sibling i have, i don’t know. it’s preposterous. adam has done nothing in his life but succeed. his father has no right to say anything to adam because he has done nothing to help him in his life. in no way shape or form has adam ever been a disappointment.

i remember in math class, too many years ago, my teacher saying that ‘good things happen to good people= good. bad things happening to bad people=good’ et cetera to explain multiplying positive and negative numbers. i remember thinking i must be either a bad person to feel so bad for good things happening to me, or a good person who feels bad for having bad things happen to me. lol as if life makes as much sense as math.

it simply hurts that my mom doesn’t see how much she hurt me but immediately worries about adam’s stupid feelings about his stupid dad. i don’t even think she remembers saying it to me.

but sometimes it’s all i remember. that’s what’s mind-boggling too: how can something that is so insignificant to her that she doesn’t even think of it, even when a mirror situation presents itself, be something i think of almost every day.

and why do i even care so much? i don’t know. i guess it is because my mom is probably the only person who has ever really loved me, in spite of things, unconditionally. with my dad, he loves me, but only if i act a certain way. he loves me, but only under certain conditions. i bet i could chase him away with the horror that is my reality, easy.

 

in other news, i fell into the clickhole that is youtube, watching clips from futurama. classic show, really. great moments. i’m trying to connnect this vid to something in my life, anything, to justify its presence here. here it is:

 

tagging myself: i’m the train that crashed into the other train. also, the governor lady.

 

 

 

eyes without a face

so,

i was born early morning, june 3rd. 1:13 am.

i love how people struggle to find meaning in the numbers, the days of the week, in the movements of the stars and planets. everything. in the end though, i’m not sure if anything has meaning other than the meaning we invest. humans are the real power, not freaking dots of light in the sky, so far away they could be dead/dark and we wouldn’t even know. but a lot of people don’t invest their power in themselves. we don’t know what to do with ourselves really. we’ve come so very far and yet we’re all still just here. it is beautiful and sad and lovely and very hard to fathom for me sometimes.

lol i think i’m just having an existential crisis. it is like this every birthday month. when truly it’s just like any other month. which may be why it is hard to deal with in the first place.

i’m 25, a quarter of a century, as my coworkers so thoughtfully remind me.

anyway, happy belated birthday to me. it’s been a great show of bravery in the face of futility.

the flags are all dead at the top of their poles

we say we’re not like them, but we love a good martyr too. we love a mindless, senseless patriot. someone willing to kill, die, or end up an empty shell for the interests of the governing body and its allies. oh, america. how you ache at the cognitive dissonance of it all. what the hell happened? you were never what you said you were.

there’re two ducks, a male and female, that hang around the house. they like to eat the dried mealworms my mom mixes into the birdseed she puts outside. ducks are cute. they come waddling up, and we make sure not to go outside and disturb them. it’s like a little wildlife refuge, despite being in the middle of town. we get deer that eat from the birdfeeder on our porch, a raccoon that eats the cat food we leave out for stray cats, two squirrels, a chipmunk, a big fat rabbit and one little, young rabbit. so many animals. i love watching them.

one of my fond memories from my childhood is from my grandma’s house, where i’d stay occasionally, especially after my grandfather died. i’d sit in her little sitting area, the windows crowded with flora like jade plants and cacti and geraniums, and at sunset i’d watch the deer through binoculars as they came out of the woods to eat corn my grandma left out for them.

she had two huge gardens. i’d wander through them and the woods, pretending i lived out there. i even built a fort out of tree branches. it was pretty neat.

this was in minnesota, and my grandma had a lady slipper flower, which is actually minnesota’s state flower and so illegal to pick or uproot, and i’m pretty sure she uprooted it at some point to have it. she gave my mother the habit of carrying a shovel in the trunk of the car in case there was something good growing on the side of the road, like wild asparagus or something “fun” like that, haha.

she moved to a smaller place and sold her house way back in 2015. seems like it was just a few months ago.

i remember her yelling at me and my brother for climbing trees on her property. lol she was afraid we would scuff up the branches, not afraid for our safety.

i miss minnesota. the land of 10,000 lakes. the star of the north. i say it a lot, but it’s a great place.

 

 

i keep my pretty heart safe from my ugly brain

 

i’ve been avoiding the news lately. the world is so vast and beautiful and awe-inspiring, and tiny and cramped and suffocating. i love it and hate it, wanna see it thrive. but if everything came to a whimpering end tomorrow, i doubt i would be too upset.

take note: i wanna get a fish one day, and take stupid good care of it. i’ve been watching videos about low-tech fishtank setups, set to soothing piano music, and i am inspired. i used to have a betta fish, years ago. i barely knew anything about fish though then, and so i doubt i took that great care of it. i tried, but since then i’ve learned that betta fish often build little “nests” out of bubbles (adorable) to house their eggs.. it’s seen as a sign of contentment for a fish to do that when they have no real reason to, like no eggs. and my betta fish never did that. lol but i’d probably obsess over a damn fish ’til i drove myself crazy..

i feel like i’m in limbo right now.

i’m reading a book tho. it’s great. i’ve read like all of the author’s other books, and they are consistently great. i love his style of writing. it’s dark and gritty, but poetic and makes me think. it’s the kind of writing i like to read aloud. it’s the kind of writing style i wish i could have. i wish i could actually ask him questions about his writing, like if his style comes naturally or if he’s cultivated it over time. the thing is though, all of his books are great (according to me). so i think he is just naturally a good writer. i don’t know. i guess writing seriously is a recursive process. it can always be improved. that’s what i like about it. with painting or drawing, often if you go back in and add more, it can just get worse and worse. writing is more readily made better, i think. the more you add and subtract, the clearer it can become, whereas whenever i try and paint more and more, it all just becomes muddier. lol, i might just be a bad artist tho. totally possible/probable.

my sister messaged me, saying she loves/misses me. she still lives in sioux falls. i really miss her. i told her so, and also that it’s like the people you wanna see in life often seem to be the people you never see. i wish she didn’t live in south dakota, ’cause if i went to see her i would have to see my grandparents too. ugh i wish i could just let go of the anger and grudge i have for them. every time i go there, though, they just seem to give me more reasons to hold on to my resentment. i’m probably going to regret my avoidance of them one day. i already do when i think about the future.

i wish i were nicer. i swear at some point in life i was nicer. one day at a time.