The problem with being a semi-recluse.

And there are many.

I'm not good with people;  meeting them, being around them, socializing.   Every time I have to go out to the store or am forced to be social I have an anxiety attack.  Which has gotten worse, may I add,  since my semi-hermit lifestyle began.  It started off as a joke but quickly turned into a state of being.

The problem is that I want to get out there.  I want to meet people, talk to them, get inspired by them because there is something to be gained by social encounters.

I panic when I think about taking my writing seriously.  What if I want to get published by an actual publishing house.  What if they ask me to have meetings or to talk about what I've written?  Then there are book signings/readings where I'd have to stand in front of a group of strangers reading excerpts. (My throat is closing up as I type this.)  What if no one shows up and I'm sitting at a small desk with unwanted copies of something that I treasure?   

To save myself from this hypothetical situation, I don't write diligently. When I write, it's for fun. I reach a point where I think, "This might actually become something."  I get all excited, then the next day I ignore the document like it's an aging aunt who likes to pinch cheeks.

The truth is, though, that I still want it.  I still want to write stories that people want to read and get excited about.  I want to be good at it.  Good enough where at least five people would show up to support me.  I'm not looking for fame or to get insanely rich, I just want to share my stories.

If I can sort out my sh*t in 2017 and gain some courage, maybe it will happen.  Maybe I can face my fears and take the bull by the horns. (Though, why would I want to do that?  What's the purpose of taking a bull by his horns? Can the bull and I not just be friends? Can he not just give me a gentle nudge forward in support of my efforts?)

I'm proud of what I've written. I want to share it. I want to promote my poems and my book because it was a challenge for me to publish them.  They're an expression of a lifetime of pain, confusion, sorrow. They're an admission and acknowledgment of my "weaknesses."  They are the things that no one close to me knows about.  I know that there are people out there who can relate, and perhaps find comfort and kinship with it all.

I wish that you were waiting

I wish that you were waiting for me.
Not to be happy,
Not to find love,
Not to be fulfilled.
You should have all of those things already,
Because you are sacred.
You are "it."

I wish that you were waiting for me.
Waiting to know me,
Waiting to set me free to find my purpose.
Waiting to release me from the darkness.

I am always searching.
Searching for happiness,
Searching for love,
Searching for fulfillment,

There must be someone waiting at the other end of doubt,
To stop me from spiraling out of control,
To slow me down from shooting passed self-worth like a bullet.
To awaken and acknowledge the sacred in me,
A thing that I was born with but am blind to.

But we are strangers,
and I am strange.
Estranged from the divine within myself and the divine upon the earth,
The Earth itself.
The Moon,
The Sun,
The Cosmos.
Another thing that I was born feeling and knowing but time and circumstance stripped me of this truth, and we too are disconnected.

I look for validation from others because I don't value myself.
I am separate from my soul,
Detached from who I could be because I am broken.
The pieces that I find don't fit together which leaves me restless and anxious and constantly wanting to be anywhere other than here,
Anyone other than myself.
Because who am I really?

A speck of moon dust,
A grain of sand.
I am a minuscule amount of everything and nothing,
Never evolving into something greater,
Something substantial.
So in my mind, I am worthless because only great people accomplish great things and I am nothing and will never be because I don't care enough to pull the greatness out of myself.

You can't bring forth what you don't see.

So, I wait for someone else to see it in me.
I wait for someone else to take a stand against my insecurities,
To fight the fight I should be armed against.
I wait for someone to haul me up out of the bog I'm trapped within,
To lend me strength and assurance,
To whisper,
To shout,
To state simply that I am relevant.
That I am not a waste of space.
That I too, am a sacred being.

I wait for someone to bring me back to Oneness,
So I can be reborn,
Emerging from a lotus like some long slumbering, ancient and forgotten deity.

I wish that you were waiting for me.
Waiting to show me a possibility that doesn't otherwise exist for the unenlightened.

~Yarrow

Yarrow's Book Review coming in 2017

I decided that I'm going to start posting my thoughts on books.  I'm not sure that I'll be "reviewing" them in a traditional sense.  I get a bit rambly (as you'll notice if you read my audible post.)

I'm doing this for two reasons.  The first reason is to force myself to read more frequently.  I have so many books, an obscene amount, in fact, that it's ridiculous that I keep "wasting" money on them. I have enough books to keep me occupied for at least 3 years.

The second reason that I want to start posting about them, is to keep up with the blog. It will give me something else to write about and hopefully, people will find these "reviews" helpful.

If it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out but at least I'm making an effort I guess.

My thoughts on Audible

I subscribed to Audible on a whim.  No, I didn't.  What had happened was, they (Audible), and Amazon Prime joined forces at some point a few months ago. Prime Members are now offered a selection of books from various categories, for free.  I was happy about this because I've had a "Should I?" "Shouldn't I?" ping pong match going on about if Audible was for me or not, for quite some time.

I took this union as a sign and promptly downloaded the app and started listening to a book.  About halfway through listening to the book, it was no longer in my library.  Apparently, it was only available in the freebie zone for a certain amount of time.  I was annoyed.

I took a few days to mull over the idea of forking up $14.95 a month to continue using the app without restriction. (Meaning, I would be able to download books and see a larger selection.)  In the end, I decided that I would. Especially since you get the first 30 days free.   I also had a free credit that I could use to buy a book.

I'm not going to lie, if they didn't hand out the free credit each month, (Certain plans give you more. But you pay more.) Audible and I wouldn't last.  Some books are over $30.  I'm not spending that much money on a book just because someone is reading it to me.  Don't get me wrong; I understand that this is a job for people and they need to make money for their services.  If Audible was a free service, but you had to buy the books, things might be different.  But having to pay a certain amount of money to use the app, then pay more money to buy a book it's just not going to happen.  I'm not a cheap person, but I'm not rolling in cash money, ya feel me?

I didn't purchase the book that they took away from me, in case you were wondering.  I'm a bit bitter about our separation and refuse to waste a credit on something I've already half listened to.  But, I saw the movie, so I know how it ends.

I'm still on the fence about how I feel about Audible.  On the one hand, I've already listened to  3 books, and am almost at the halfway mark on a 4th.  It would have taken me a year to get through 1 book, so I feel really happy about that.  Then there's that "old school" part of me that feels like listening to a book doesn't count.  I feel like I've cheated somehow.  Each day I walk into my "library,"   accosted by the hard bound books, jeered at by the paperbacks.  Each volume, disgruntled and offended that they've been sitting on my shelf for years without so much as a scan through the pages.  I've let them down.

I love books you see.  I love the possibilities within their pages.  I love the ideas that their titles conjure up in my mind.  I am a tsundoku- A person who buys books but doesn't read them.   Eventually, I will.  In that magical, far away "one day."  But for now, I just buy them because I need their physical presence in my life.

Halfway through 2014, I read a book a month.  My best record ever.  I made an effort because I really wanted to exercise my mind.  I enjoyed it.  I made time for it.  It was the best thing that I could do for myself.  So when 2015 rolled around, I thought, "I could do more."  How many books did I read in 2015?  None. -_-  I did better at the start of 2016, having read two novels and 28 manga volumes but haven't finished anything since July. 

I've been very restless.  I'm reading two books at once (actual books, with pages. Not listening to them.) because apparently, my mind doesn't know what adventure it wants to be on.  Some days it wants to hang out with a group of Conures on Telegraph Hill, while on other days it wants to read Isak Dinesen's, Last Gothic Tales.  I detest this feeling.  I hate being in between two stories.

At least with Audible, I'm finishing books.  I listen to them on the drive to work, or whilst cleaning, in lue of listening to music.  Because let's face it, my music choices are dated.  I don't listen to the radio anymore; that's a lie.  I listen to the radio sparingly because they play the same four songs.  Every once in a while, I'll check it out to see what's been going on in the music industry.  Ruth B, girl, you have me tearing up with Lost Boy. (I wrote a post about it.)

For the most part, I'm not impressed with what's "hip," so I go back to my Billie Holiday, or cycle through Breaking Benjamin's "old" stuff.  (My music taste varies.) Being able to alternate music with listening to a book has really been a good move.  ::high five::

However, having to listen to someone else's voice for 9+ hours is a chore.  Some people are meant to narrate and some people, plainly speaking, and I mean no offense (but having said that, I already acknowledge that I'm saying something degrading.), shouldn't.

So, I've purchased three books that famous people have written because they do the narrations, and I already know I like the sound of their voices.  Only one of the books was read by someone I didn't know. She could be famous? She sounds like she should be famous. However, she was made to narrate.  I really enjoyed listening to her.

 I think at some point in the new year; I'll start reviewing what I've listened to.

The bottom line is that I think Audible is definitely worth a gander.  Especially since they offer a 30-day free trial and I think sometimes they even throw in a credit or two.  I also like that they offer different plans.  You get a certain amount of credits, depending on your membership plan, each month that you use to buy books.  Regardless of if they're $30, or $11, each book costs one credit. (As far as I can tell.  All the books I've wanted have only been one credit.)

The plan I chose only gives me one credit a month.  But that's fair for me.  I listen to a book, then get back to my music.  If you're a person that doesn't care about music and would rather listen to books, you might want to get a plan that offers you more credits, unless you don't mind paying the $30 for the book.  

I also haven't run into any problems with selection.  Pretty much anything that I'm  interested in has been available as an audiobook.  Having said that, though, I feel like Audible can do a better job with how you can search for a book.  I feel very overwhelmed when I go on their website.

Which reminds me!  You can't make purchases on your phone app.  Purchases can only be made through the Audible website.  I'm not sure what the reasoning is behind that, and in all honesty, I don't care enough to look for an answer.  I have access to a PC daily.

So, that's really all I've got to say about Audible.

I should be thankful.

I should be thankful?

I should be thankful that I can watch cute videos of otters swimming, while other people are getting beaten for the color of their skin.

I should be thankful that my main concern is what I’m buying for whom this holiday season. While other people’s homes are being bombed.  They don’t know if their loved ones are alive or dead. Meanwhile, I’m fighting with one relative or other because they hurt my feeling back in 1999.

I should be thankful that I get to fill my belly excessively, while some poor stranger starves to death in an alley somewhere in the same town.

I should be thankful that I get to sit for a moment and doubt the existence of God, while someone else fervently prays to Him for help out of the nightmare that is their life because God is all they have.  God is the only one who listens.  God is the only one who tells them that everything is going to be alright, despite the shit around them.

I get upset at the thought of dying alone because not one man I loved, chose me.  Ignoring the fact that some girl, still a child just got sold to a man she’s never met, forced to live as an adult and act like an adult when she should still be playing with dolls and dreaming of unicorns.

I should be thankful that I get to walk around with my tattoos exposed and short sleeves on hot days, my hair getting windblown and tangled when the winter winds come howling, while another woman gets beat half to death for showing her hands accidentally while trying to make a purchase. 

I should be thankful that I moaned and complained about having to go to school and learn, to better myself so I could be something one day. While another little girl is banned from attending, yet she holds onto that dream of “one day.”  If she’s lucky, her parents are supportive and teach her quietly behind closed doors.  Maybe she'll have a chance.

I should be thankful that I live in a country where I don’t have to live in fear.  

I should be thankful that the color of my skin offers me more freedoms and choices than others.   

I should be thankful that even though I’m struggling, I have a better chance of making it through. 

I should be thankful.

I should be thankful.

But I’m not.  I’m not because I’m ashamed of my privileges. 

I’m ashamed of my liberties and my freedom because I take them for granted.   

I’m ashamed that I get to “forget” and go on living my life with the certainty that everything is going to be ok, regardless of if I pray or not. 

I’m ashamed that I’m pitying people who have more strength than I’ll ever have.   

I’m ashamed that I’m helpless.    

Getting Serious...again

I avoid writing/talking about important issues, especially on the internet.  It's not because I don't care, or are completely oblivious to what's going on in the world around me.  It's because everyone has their opinions.  It's very easy to misconstrue what a person says/writes based on how you interpret things.  How you may interpret things is based on your own personal feelings on the subject.  I've noticed that I do this.  As an unenlightened human, it's hard to separate personal feelings with truths, especially when they're not in your favor.  I get defensive and angry when the truth isn't something that I want to face. 

I touched briefly upon these issues before but didn't go into detail.  I'm not sure why I feel compelled to now. I guess because I feel helpless. 

I'm talking about racism.  I'm talking about discrimination of all kind.  I was listening to someone I follow on YouTube a few months ago.  She was talking about Black Lives Matter, and how she knew that they didn't need another white voice to defend them, but she had things to say and wanted to give input and insight on what other white people could do to be helpful.  I've read some comments, and there was some negative feedback about her "white privilege" and how they didn't need her to say anything at all. How they didn't need any white person to say anything at all.

This bothers me.  I acknowledge that as a white person there are a shit ton of things that I'll never understand.  I'll never know the level of discrimination that other people have to endure on a daily basis.  My only "problem" is that I'm a woman.  Sexism is an issue, but not one that I personally deal with daily, being a recluse.

How are we meant to destroy racism/discrimination if we're not allowed/wanted for that fight? What am I supposed to do to remove the hate from the world?  How can I stand up to the injustice of it all?  I can only do what I'm doing now...write about it here and hope that it matters to someone.

It's embarrassingly obvious that white people have done horrendous things throughout history and even present day. It's never been something that I could wrap my head around.  It never made sense to me that one person thought it was right to own another person.  It never made sense that people justified killing other people because of the color of their skin or religious beliefs or sexual orientation.  I used to think we lived in an educated world, but sadly, with all the killings and hate crimes that are happening now...we don't.  It's scary.  It's frustrating.  It's sad.  It's a real issue, and it's one that needs to be tackled and obliterated.

But it's not just white people.  Humans, in general, can be full of senseless hate.  Why?  Why do we think we can hurt other people? How do some people find it so easy to do?

Part of the beauty of the world is our differences.  I've always been interested in other people's cultures and religions.  I try to educate myself because I believe that in our core, we're all the same.  We have the same basic needs, regardless of if we have the same color skin, or pray to one god or many, or none at all.   We love.  We want to be loved.  We want to succeed in life and be happy.  There's absolutely no reason that we need to put other people down to do so.  There's absolutely no reason why we should belittle someone else to feel good about ourselves. 

So, I say to you, regardless of your skin color, religious belief or lack thereof, whether you're gay, straight, bisexual, transgender, asexual, if you have a disability, and any other label out there that I missed or don't know about, YOU ARE IMPORTANT.  You are beautiful.  You matter.  You can achieve greatness, and I hope that you succeed in life.  I hope that whatever hardships you've had to endure only make you stronger.  Your voice matters.

We have to be better than our past.  Better than the negative people that surround us.  We have to believe in ourselves and believe in each other and walk away from people who try to bring us down.  We need to stand together and hope that enough of us join hands to hold the line.  We'll be a sickeningly powerful forcefield of positivity and love.  We need to help each other rise above social constraints.  We need to encourage each other. We need to acknowledge that even though we may have some differences, we can be on the same team, we can close the gaps that other people say should separate us. 

These Boots

I've had a pair of boots sitting in my closet for I don't know how long.  If I had to guess, I'd say two years at least.  They're ankle high with a boxed heel around 2 inches high.  I loved them but didn't like the way they looked with my skinny jeans, and I wasn't too happy with how they looked with my boot cut jeans.  Plus, as I mentioned, they have a heel.  (I'm not one for wearing heels.) 

The reason why I purchased them in the first place was to satisfy my half-assed fashionista craving that occasionally plagues me if I spend too much time on YouTube. Sometimes I get the urge to dress up and look like a "proper lady."  Don't get me wrong; I don't dress like a slob.  But my shoe collection is predominately flats or flip-flops and that one pair of Bear Claw boots.   I can't walk in high-heels (I did recently purchase a nude pair...for the future.) I'm awkward...have I mentioned that?  I walk into walls...on my own...in my bare feet. Me walking in heels would be entertaining, to say the least.

Anyway, back to the point.

One morning, as soon as the cooler weather forced me to pack away my beloved flip-flops, I saw these boots peeking out from the back of my closet as I tried to figure out what shoe to wear to work.  With a sigh, I picked them up and put them on. 

"Hmmm," I muttered, turning this way and that way.  "These look really good with these jeans."

I felt like a fool walking down stairs in them.  The clop, clop, clop of them hitting the tile, put me in mind of a horse walking on cobblestones.  I smiled.  I like horses and the sound of them walking on cobblestones.

Yes, I'm that simple at 34 years old. 

I wore these boots to work and instantly felt like a supermodel.  Seriously.  I noticed myself walking taller.  I felt more confident.  If there had been a breeze and my hair was out of a braid, it would have been a scene from a movie.  You know the one, where the hot chick is catching the eye of everyone she passes as she walks in slow motion, like a runway model.  "These boots are made for walking," was the theme song of the day.  It was glorious.

Except, no one was out and about so early in the morning except me, so, it was a very dramatic walk to my car for nothing.

I didn't think that a pair of shoes could give me so much confidence.  I've worn them almost every day since then, and the magic hasn't worn off.   I can't even imagine the sort of euphoria I'll feel once I can wear those new heels!  Watch out world!

One Year Blogging!

I only know that I've been doing this for a year because I was looking for the post about autumn being a reflective time of year so that I could link it to this post.


I'm proud of myself.  Seriously, if I could pat myself on the back, I would.  Oh, wait...I can! :)

This is a big deal for me.  As I stated in post #1, I have a habit of starting blogs and deleting them.  None of them ever made it a year, and none of them had as many posts as this one does! 

I can't believe I actually stuck to something...you guys, (because there are so many of you reading this.) a celebratory cake is in order!

I'm proud of myself.  I don't care if anyone reads it or not. (Though it would be nice one day to be talking to someone other than myself.) This is a monumental moment!

Way to go me!  :: High five::

I love Autumn

Autumn is my time of year.  There's nothing that the season can do wrong. (In my eyes anyway.)  It's perfect in every way. The changing of the leaves, with their vibrant colors to tickle the senses and appreciate.  Absolutely beautiful.  (Let's forget for a minute that it's because they're dying!)

The air is crisp, and when you breathe it in, finds a way to refresh your soul.  It comes alive again.  Possibilities become endless and attainable.

Pumpkin-spiced everything!!!  Yes, I'm a huge fan.  Pumpkin donuts, pie, coffee, candles, ice cream...what else?  I love it all!

It's a reflective time of year I find.  I'm not sure if that's a "pagan thing" or not.  I mentioned this a little bit here.

I'm a lot of emotions in autumn, mostly appreciative of what I have and what I had.  I'm very lucky. I reflect on the world and my place in it, constantly trying to find my purpose or a use for myself.  We all have a purpose after all.  (At least I hope so.)  Sometimes it's a struggle to keep that in mind as I waste my time with mundane and nonsense things.

Half-Assed: Morning skincare routine

I watch some beauty gurus on YouTube and marvel at their routines; they've got them for day and night.  Spring and summer.  Fall and winter. Traveling on a plane or just staying home and doing nothing.  Sure their skin looks beautiful, but c'mon, there's got to be people like me out there who can't stick to that level of commitment?  I laugh when they have the "Quick" routine.  A half hour isn't quick.

As I already mentioned here, I'm not one to take the time out of my day for personal pampering. Maybe there's an underlying psychological reason for it; I don't know.  But it annoys me when I need to leave a face mask on for 15 minutes.  Probably because I have to remove my glasses and can't see. Haha.

I believe that the most important thing you can do is find the right product.  Sure it'd be nice to be like those other women and have all the serums and night creams and hydrating what's-it-called, by so and so boutique.  Maybe one day I'll get to that level, but for right now I'm fine with my method.

I have combinations skin.  Either I'm super oily or super dry, so finding a product that can help me with my breakouts and general troll-ness was a real issue.  I happened to be watching Marie's Bitsandclips channel one day, and she had mentioned in a video that she used Body Shop products. She said that they really cleared up her face and she was very happy in general with the products.

I've had to put up with acne since fifth grade.  I tried everything.  Proactiv, store-brand acne medications, dermatologist recommendations. I had an actual face cleansing regiment that was freaking ridiculous!  But no matter what I did, my skin was sh*t.  So, I figured I'd try out what Marie did.  I'm not sure if what I have is the exact product she uses. (I think it is.)

Can I tell you, what a difference!  I still have some spots and will break out on occasion. Hormones and stress and all that crap contribute to it, but my face has gotten so clear that I don't need to wear foundation!  I'll have to put on some concealer but that's it.  I'm so happy that I finally found something that actually works! 

Face Wash ($12.83 Amazon)

When I first started using this product, I wasn't too keen on the smell.  It's more perfumey than I thought it would be, considering it's seaweed, but it doesn't bother me anymore.  I find that since I'm prone to blackheads, I do have to use a face scrub to help with those. This is the only downside. (Though, I should mention that I would use a blackhead facial scrub daily prior to this. So it must even be helping those a little bit.) My skin does feel refreshed and clean after washing with this cleanser, and it looks brighter too.

Toner ($15 Amazon)

The toner has a cooling effect that I like.  Before I got the whole The Body Shop Seaweed ranger, I was only using the cleanser and moisturizer. I was using witch hazel as my toner because I had a huge bottle of it.  Once that was finished,  I got the brand's toner to try out and am quite happy with it.

Moisturizer ($14.58 Amazon)

I was disappointed with the moisturizer at first.  I had started using this regime during my skin's dry time.  It's a lightweight moisturizer and I didn't feel like it really moisturized my skin.  But it did.  A few days after I started using it, I noticed that my skin was looking happy. I also found that my face isn't suffering from the dry time much.  Though, winter is coming *GoT theme music plays in my head everytime that phrase is uttered.* ^_^, so we'll see how I do.   I like the fact that it's lightweight now because the other moisturizer I was using felt heavy and weighed my skin down too much.  This moisturizer also doesn't leave my face feeling greasy as the day goes on, which is a HUGE bonus!

Night Treatment (Got this as part of the trial kit. $24.72 Amazon)

 I'm going to be honest here, I don't use the night serum all that much. Mostly because I forget about it.  It's very light on the skin. It doesn't feel like you've got anything on and your skin can breathe. Which I appreciate, and my skin appreciates. (When I use it!) But I'm not really sure that is necessary for a night treatment. I feel like at night you would want something more hydrating and heavier. But again, I don't use it all that much to review it properly.




I should note also that the other reason why I switched to the body shop is because they're a cruelty-free company.  One of my life's goals is to not have any makeup products that have been tested on animals, nor support companies that do.  I'm not a vegan or vegetarian yet, but I'm working towards this goal.  I'm not going to lie, veganism intimidates me. I may never get to that level.  I wrote a post about this a while ago. Cruelty Free.
 

This routine is what I do on the daily for work and takes me all of ten minutes. Which is perfect because I hate waking up in the morning!  Not that I hate waking up, obviously being alive is awesome. I'm not a morning person is what I'm saying.

Anyway, this is how I keep beautiful and wanted to share. ^___^

Half-Assed: Foot care

I'm not one of those women that spends time doing facials and baths and what not.  I don't treat myself to those things, partly because I'm lazy, and partly because I never think about it.  I'm a jump in the shower, get the job done and get out, sort of person.  Well, truth be told I do stand under the hot water for a number of minutes to soothe my aching joints.  Calcium. That's probably what they need.  Don't get me started on vitamins.

My point is I don't have a beauty regimen. I take my makeup off with baby wipes. *gasp* and rarely moisturize at night. *double gasp*  No, I don't wonder why I'm still single!
The problem with being so nonchalant about pamper sessions is that I'll take a look at my skin randomly during the day and notice how dry it looks.  My feet especially.  It's flip flop season and let me tell you, ain't nothing ickier than having a look at your feet and seeing how dry they are!

I got a sample of Burt's Bees, coconut foot cream as a gift.  It was part of a holiday set,  mind you, no one was throwing hints at me. Or were they?!  Hmmm...

Anyway, I love this stuff.  It smells of a tropical island somewhere far away. I can imagine myself sitting under the shade of palm trees, whilst gazing out at the glistening ocean. The gentle roar of the waves, lulling me into a state of peace.  The sun slowly sets as I drink a nice refreshing Guinness. *Sigh* My idea of heaven...minus the tropical beach bit. (Though, I do love the roar of the ocean.)  I'm a forest type of gal. I much prefer dirt underfoot than sand. 

Back to the point!  This foot cream is thick and greasy, so, what I do, and what I recommend, is it be applied at night.  Wear socks to protect your sheets and help keep the greasy gold on your feet where it belongs! (My brain is taking help and keep and turning it into kelp. At least it's keeping with the theme!)

The next morning your feet will thank you!  I know mine will.  You'll notice the difference right away, but if your tootsies are severely dry, you'll have to reapply again.  I mean, I'm sure it's a product you could use every day.  As I stated earlier, I forget about daily lotions and sh*t.  I'll do this until my feet are back to being soft and supple. *Feet can be supple too! Something I didn't realize until I used this cream.*

Halloween Costume Rant

Every year, since reaching adulthood, I've struggled to figure out what the heck I was going to be for Halloween.  Part of the problem is the costume selection for women.  Ok, most of the problem is the selection.

First of all, I'm not a thin girl.  I'm on the chunky side, but I find that the sizes don't mean anything.  Even trying on costumes 3x bigger than my normal size is much too small.  What the hell us up with that? How did they figure out their sizing? Then to have a person pay extra when they get into bigger sizes, even more ridiculous.  If you'd make the sizes fit correctly, then I wouldn't have to look into ten sizes larger than what I am. Because I'm telling you right now, I'm not going to pay the extra money.

Another problem is that all the women's costumes are labeled as "Sexy Superhero," "Sexy Witch," "Sexy police officer," "Sexy Nun." ( Which is just wrong.) Etc...etc...etc.  I'm not sexy.  I'm awkward.  I don't "do" sexy or seductive.  If I want to be a policewoman for Halloween, I want a regular flipping costume.  I don't want my tits hanging out and my ass exposed.  No one wants that!

So, apparently, my only costume choices are "bacon" or a "coffee."  -_-

Not being heard but afraid to speak.

I always feel like that kid who everyone ignores on the playground. No matter what I do, they turn their backs on me and pretend that I'm not there.  Like I'll go away if they wait long enough.  Well, I won't.  I'm an annoying little gnat who's constantly buzzing around, looking for validation.

If I'm talking, people have the habit of speaking over me or finding something else to do while I yammer on about this or that.  Not everyone does this mind you, but enough to make it eat away at me. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I even think that I'm "too much."

I used to give up on it.  I would literally stop talking mid-sentence if I saw that people weren't interested, or if they busied themselves. (Which is rude by the way.  When someone is talking to you, you listen and make eye contact.  If I have to listen to their sh*t, even if I find it inane, then they should afford me the same courtesy. It's just being respectful of another person's life and interests.)  I used to talk to one or two people and that was it.  Communication was never my forte anyway.  There are reasons for this that I've discovered only recently.  Sometimes I want to be social. I want to be intriguing and I want people to want to listen to what I have to say.  It would be nice to have interesting things to talk about.  It's very rare for me to share an opinion, so when I do, I expect people to want to listen.  But they don't always feel the same.

I still try though.  I'm an adult for crying out loud.  I do have valid opinions and thoughts and will share them even if  they get buried under someone else's voice.

It's annoying having this problem.  Sometimes I find it difficult to talk to my friends.  Thankfully they lead more exciting lives and can carry on conversations for hours on end.  But, it would be nice if I could just "get over it," and just say what I want to say and not have to feel irrelevant.

I'm hard on myself too.  Half the time I stop myself from speaking because I don't think that it matters. My opinion doesn't matter enough.  I put myself down a lot...as you may or may not come to find the more I blog and share my personal struggles.  I'm not ashamed of these faults.  I'm working through them. Hence this blog. 

I had wanted to talk to my dad today about starting my own business.  I wanted to ask his advice because he owned his own business.  I wanted to get his input and wisdom.  It's a daunting task trying to figure out where to start.  But I couldn't bring myself to start the conversation.  What if he thinks I'm stupid?  What if he puts my idea down?  I'll give up on it.  I struggle with it as it is now.  But I can manage my self-sabotaging thoughts.  I can tell myself to "Shut the hell up and let me live for crying out loud."
But if my dad laughed at it, well, I couldn't say that to him.

I've told two people about my idea and part of me thinks that they don't believe in me.  They've been very supportive, but I don't know, maybe it's my own insecurity, sometimes I feel like they're thinking that I'm not going to go through with it.  They know that I have a habit of starting things without finishing them.  So, I wouldn't blame them for thinking that now.  But I really am trying to get this started up and moving.

It seems like such a sad place to be in mentally. Having all this self-doubt weighing on me, while knowing how much potential I do actually have within me.  Will it always be a struggle?  Will I never have enough confidence in myself to defend my own ideas?  Will I always be half-assed about everything?  Hopefully not.  This business venture excites me.  It's making me think that it's possible for me to be successful.  I would make myself proud; knowing that I've accomplished something, even if I didn't necessarily succeed. At least I would have tried.

Too much rests in not knowing.  I'm trying to have a little faith in myself.

Why didn't I become a paleontologest?

Do you ever have those moments in your life where you're doing something random, and suddenly a thought hits you out of left field?  This is exactly what happened to me the other day.


I was reading an old National Geographic Magazine.  (March 2003 if you're interested.) It has a beautiful image of a mechanical replica of Tyrannosaurus Rex on the cover.  Which is why I saved the magazine to begin with.  Dinosaurs excite me.  Ever since I was a kid, I was that odd girl who was obsessed with them.


I used to have a book; I think the actual title of it was simply, Dinosaurs. I treasured that book and would look through the pictures and wonder about all of them.  I loved them all of course, but I had my favorites.  T. Rex, Velociraptor, Brontosaurus, Triceratops, Pterodactyl...the list goes on, literally, because there were so many.


Of course, pint-sized, half-assed me, didn't do a lot of reading up on these dinosaurs.  I created my own ideas of these creatures, even back then, my desire for everything to get along made me imagine that all the dinosaurs were friends and they ate something other than each other.  The T. Rex was just misunderstood, obviously.


Then Jurassic Park came out. My 11-year-old heart fluttered with excitement and fear.  The Velociraptors and T. Rex nailed it.  I loved everything about that movie. (Shame on me for not yet watching Jurassic World by the way.)


Is it weird that the sound of a T. Rex makes me insanely happy?  Possibly, but I don't care.


On visits to museums I would be overwhelmed (in a good way.) with the thought that these creatures actually once walked the earth.  They existed.  Muscle and flesh covered the bones, and I was that idiot human smiling up at them wanting to be friends.  (My imagination has always been epic, and the one good quality I have.)  I still get that way. 


So, why then did I not pursue a career in paleontology? 


Only intelligent people can survive and thrive in careers in science.   (Upon reflection, I noticed that most of my interests are in that genre.)  The sad truth is that I'm not smart enough to hold onto the information.  I can't pronounce some of the terminology used, let alone spell it or know what it means.  Even the names of the dinosaurs are just "out there." Sinornithosaurus, Confuciusornis, Aucasaurus, Einiosaurus, Styracosaurus.  I mean c'mon.  You know the scientists gave up when they named Giganotosaurus. 

But the truth is, I didn't think about it as a career choice.  I wanted to be a Veterinarian.  I wanted to take care of animals.  Then I wanted to be an Archaeologist, then and Egyptologist.  Math got in the way of all these careers, as well as my general lack of ambition.   I'm not a scholarly person.   I like a lot of things but don't delve deep into the subject matter.  So my half-assery extends to all aspects of my life.

As I get older, however, I find that I'm more apt to research things.  Mainly because the invention of the internet makes it a heck of a lot easier to get the information.  I'm always googling.

I have a problem retaining the information, and that upsets me.  I don't remember half of the things that I read in the National Geographic article.  I don't know why.  I was enthralled while reading it, but as soon as I was finished and tried to ask myself follow-up questions, it all left my brain.  I've always had this problem, hence my bad grades in school.

Ah well.  What can I do?

Starting "fresh."

Things are precious to me. I've noticed that about myself, especially now that I'm older and trying to act more...responsible?  It doesn't matter if it's a half-filled notebook, or a scrap of paper with beloved names written down, or a faded receipt from when I purchased my first betta fish over 15 years ago. These things aren't just "things."  They're sacred words written down. They represent different times in my life.  They hold the power of remembering.


Despite this, I decided as I was trying to command order of my room, that it was time to let go.  The half-filled notebooks are worthless now.  The information that I wanted to learn has long gone from my mind, and I'm not going to spend the time reading notes.

 I'll start again.

I had mentioned the other day about how I'm a half-assed sort of person.  I want to know about a lot of things, but I never complete my "studies."  What I didn't realize was that keeping these old notes aren't helping me.  I don't review the things that I've already written, mainly because I forget that I've already written them down. So, I pull out a fresh notebook and start again.  So why keep the old ones?  They only take up space and are subconsciously hanging over my head, overwhelming me.  I've got enough crap that overwhelms me on the daily; my interests should never be part of that problem.

So, I made the decision to throw out the old notes to make room for the new.  As an adult I'm more organized *laughs*, than I was when I first started out.  I think that I'm capable of keeping better notes and being more detailed.


I've also thrown out my Daily Reading notebooks and looseleaf papers that were scattered in all sorts of places. They don't mean anything to me now because I didn't write anything detailed. I'm in a different place now with tarot than when I kept those journals.  I'm not a professional and I wouldn't even call myself experienced, but when I take the time and really focus, I am proficient with the meanings.  I always cared too much about the book's definition of what the cards meant and thought that I'd have to memorize 72 card meanings that were already established.  I'm not good at memorizing things, so that never worked out for me. And yup, you guessed it, overwhelmed me.


So, I'll begin my tarot studies again with a fresh eye.  I'll make more progress this way.


I also want to get rid of the clutter.  There are things that I don't need to display but that I don't want to throw away.  I'll pack them up and save them for the future.  I want to minimize the clutter in my home, and hopefully, that will help with the endless feeling of being overtaken by everything.  Maybe it will help ease the restlessness that I'm always feeling.  I already feel a little better having thrown out the small pile I did.  So it seems like a promising endeavor.

That would be awesome!

365 Days of Writing: Day 7

The Rocketship

*Write about a rocket ship on its way to the moon or a distant galaxy far, far, away.*

It hit Sam suddenly that he was living his childhood dream.  In less than five minutes, Albatross I would be clear of Earth's exosphere.  He would be in "outer space."

He smiled at the thought and remembered how he'd use to go around the house pretending to be an astronaut.  He'd draw pictures of the aliens and lifeforms that he'd discovered.  Sam knew that he wouldn't see any of those things now, but his heart raced at the possibilities of, "what if."

The silence once they reached space was overwhelming.  The stars were so close yet remained so far away.  It was breathtaking and beautiful.  There were no words that could express what he saw at that moment.

Jones let out an excited "Woohoo!" and slapped Sam on the shoulder.  The effects were slowed down with zero gravity, but Same smiled and laughed along with his comrade.

After they double checked the ships functions and checked in with command, the two sat back and enjoyed the vastness of the horizon.  There was no end to it. 

They would orbit the moon for a day or so before heading towards Jupiter.   Part of Sam just wanted to keep going.  To Hell with the mission.  How far could they explore with the resources they had? What would they find out there in the great unknown?

Sam thought of the young boys and girls who looked at the night sky in awe.  One day it would be their turn.  One day they would live their dream.  He was jealous of those that would forge ahead and be able to wander around the surfaces of these planets safely.  He marveled at the concept of one day, perhaps hundreds or thousands of years from now, people actually inhabiting these places.  He wished that he would be able to witness that in his lifetime, but even with all the advances in science, living in space was still too far away.

HTML, CSS?

I like to try to teach myself new things.  I'm a very curious person when it comes to how things come together from start to finish.  I decided a few weeks ago to teach myself HTML coding so that I can know how to make changes to a web page, or even eventually build one. 

I haven't gotten that far in my reading but already have learned quite a few basics. I'm excited about actually knowing how to do something that could benefit this blog, and eventually, hopefully, my personal web page for business. 

I should be taking more time putting some of this stuff into practice, but I'm so busy doing other things.  I'll have to make time though if I ever want to understand fully what I'm reading. 

This endeavor got me to thinking about everything else I've started to teach myself and have yet to finish. -_-   I really have a bad habit of doing things half-assed.

If I completed every task I set for myself, I'd be a super-human.


Wish me luck!

365 Days of Writing: Day 6

6. Eye Contact: Write about two people seeing each other for the first time.

His eyes were brown, the color of the earth. He smiled, reminding her of a fox.  The way the sun shone down on him made him almost appear angelic.  Like he had fallen from the heavens.  It was cliche but it was true.  She had suddenly forgotten how to breathe.  Her legs felt unsteady and nearly failed her when he spoke to her.  His voice was even perfectly pitched.  

________________________________________________________________________

She was cute but unremarkable.  She didn't try too hard, not like the other girls.  She wore jeans and a simple t-shirt.  Her hair was to her shoulders and plainly styled.  I don't even think she wore make-up.  If she did, it wasn't much.  She's not the type of girl you'd like twice at.  But I liked her smile. 

365 Days of Writing: Day 5

Food

I love food.  I think about eating practically every minute of every day. I'm not a big breakfast person, mainly because I never get up early enough to enjoy it.  During the week at work, I don't eat breakfast because I'm not usually hungry at such a stupid hour. 

However, I think this weekend I'm going to take advantage of the eggs I've got sitting around in the refrigerator.  Going to work some avocados into that pairing and perhaps some cheese.  Yummy.

I've been trying to eat healthy, *laughs* no I haven't.  I'll eat an oatmeal bar for lunch at work.  That's as light as I go.  Sometimes that fills me, but other times I'm snacking once I get home.

Dinner is my jam, though.  I love dinnertime foods most of all.  I love going out to dinner more than I like cooking, only because it takes less time.  It's torture waiting for homecooked meals to be finished, especially when they make your house smell so good!

365 Days of Writing: Day 4

Dancing

George

I don't know why life has to zoom on by like a runaway train.
You blink, and suddenly you're seventy-five years old at your fiftieth wedding anniversary, dancing cheek to cheek with an angel.

She's still as beautiful now as she was when I married her, my Sarah.  She'll complain from time to time, about her wrinkles and gray hair.  She'll joke quietly about the effects gravity had on her breasts.  A tear will even roll down her cheek as she goes through old pictures of how life was before.

"Look how beautiful I was."

She always says it like she can't believe it.  As if she aged into a completely different person.

"You're still beautiful my love." 

Her response is always the same.  She'll snort and wave my comment away.  She's done that since I met her, even when she was, "young and beautiful."  She never believed me.  Couldn't take a compliment for what it was.

Her blue eyes reminded me of the sky on a clear, sunny day.  So, when I went off to war, I never felt far away from her.  I'd keep my eyes to the sky and imagine she was there.  She's the only thing that got me through.  The only thing that pushed me forward. 

Her eyes still sparkle, and I can still get lost in them, even now. 

How did I get so lucky?

Sure we've had some hard times.  All marriages do I suppose, but we always made it through.  She stood by me even when I didn't deserve her.

How would I ever repay her for that?


Sarah

I always felt safe in his arms.  I drew strength from him, more than he realized.  He's like a great big bear, my George.

I can't believe we've been married for fifty years.  I can't believe that we made it.  I can't believe that he stood by me. I know how hard I am to live with. 

I made his life difficult.  I nagged him and fought with him about silly things that don't matter now.   I suffocated him because I never wanted to be without him.

When he was overseas, I couldn't function.  I felt lost without him. I prayed every moment of the day that he'd come back to me.  I cried constantly.  I never told him, though.  I always tried to make it seem that everything back home was ok.  I didn't want him to worry, not with everything that he had to face. 

We had a lot of ups and down the first few years after he came home.  I wish that I had more patience.  I wish that he would have opened up to me about everything instead of shutting me out.  But I guess, some things can't be understood unless you've experienced them for yourself.
It took me a long time to accept that I couldn't always help. 

I pushed him too hard, out of love, nothing else.  Thankfully, he understood and put up with it.

How would I ever repay him for that?

365 Days of Writing: Day 3

The Vessel

It would be a long journey to get to you by boat, but I know that you'd appreciate the effort.  Do I know that?  No, I only assume, because where you are, is where I want to be.

But, I'm afraid of the ocean; the vastness of it.  It's unpredictable and powerful.  I'd take the chance, though, to be far away from this place.

The desire to "run away" has always been within me.  Anywhere is better than here.  Too many "ghosts" surround me, and I'm not strong enough to ignore them. I'm withering away and losing myself the longer I stay.

My car could easily take me far from here, but I never think of it as a way out.  It's attached to this place, to reality.  I'm always thinking about getting away by boat, plane, even an R.V.  I tell myself that one day I will.  One day I'll just pack up and leave. I'll start somewhere new.
Oh, the possibilities that exist in that magical and mythical "one day."

I lack the courage to escape.  I'll never navigate the ocean to find you.  I'll never buy an R.V. and travel to places unknown.  I'll never hop a plane to some random destination and stay there.  So, I use my mind to travel.  I have journeyed far and through time.  It's the safest way to go in my opinion, much cheaper too. I can wander this metaphorical world with a clear head.  I don't have to worry about money, food, shelter.  I always have everything that I need and come across only the best kinds of people, or none at all, depending on my mood.

365 Days of Writing: Day 2

The Unrequited love poem
How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back?

**This one took me a few minutes to consider.  One of the earliest lessons we learn in life is that not everyone we love feels the same about us.  It's common and happens frequent enough to me even now, that I'm indifferent towards it. It's not the worst thing that can happen to an individual.

Don't get me wrong, it does suck when someone doesn't feel the same.  Currently I'm crushing hardcore on a guy who's got a smile that'd knock you into next week, it's THAT lovely.  Does he like me? Does he know I exist apart from our brief interactions? I hightly doubt it. Does that thought bother me? Just a little. But it doesn't ruin my day. I don't spend my days thinking, "Woah is me, handsome smile guy doesn't know I exist. Life sucks. ::Sobs in a corner::"

To be able to love someone is a gift in and of itself.  Love, my friends, is beautiful on its own.  The idea of it. The feelings it brings into your heart and mind, the person it can change you into; it's all beneficial.  At least, I know this is true for me.

But, loving someone who you think feels the same, then finding out that they don't, well, that's another matter.
**End note.

You know when you wake up from a dream where you've had everything you ever wanted? You were happy, beautiful, and the sun always shined. Then, suddenly, reality smacks you hard across the face to wake you, proclaiming you've been sleeping too much. So, you reluctantly get out of bed to a cold, gray, room, to begin your day feeling like you got hit by a truck?

That's what it was like loving my Volpe.

I clung to every word;
Every lie you uttered was spun gold.
You were sunlight itself come to brighten my dark days.
Life felt magical.
It felt meaningful.
Anything felt possible when I was around you.
You were everything good in a world turned sour by death, loss, and oblivion.

Then the veil parted, and I saw you for what you were,
A shadow.
A ghost.
A wraith, come to pluck at my heartstrings and laugh at my foolishness.
I suffocated and choked on your once healing words,
Frantically gasping for air as you took it away.
Drowning in a sea of my own tears and confusion.
Deafened by my own screams of denial.
I lost the game I never knew we were playing.

Life is less bright now.
Less magical.
You turned what I knew of love into a lie.
You made me doubt the one thing I felt sure of.

Loving you, Volpe...feels like a thousand serrated knives piercing my heart each waking moment I think of you.

The problem with dreams.

I'm not talking "hopes and dreams here.  I'm talking about the ones that we have when we're sleeping.  I think I've talked about this before.  No, it was daydreaming I mentioned.

Apparently, there's a problem with anything that involves any type of dreaming.  *blasphemy*

I love my dreams 90% of the time.  I had an epic one the other night that should be turned into a book or a movie.  It was fabulous. 

Then there are those other dreams.  The depressing, haunting, annoying dreams that make you remember people that you'd rather not. The ones that force you to re-live painful times.

I hate those dreams.  They always manifest if I'm doing well.  When I start to forget people that have treated me badly for no reason. Or if I start accepting that some people will never be what they were, again.

Self-sabotage.  I think that my psyche can't function when I'm at ease.  It doesn't want me to be secure.  I often wonder, why?  The only thing I can figure is that something has been unresolved.  I mean, I know for a fact that it has. For unknown reasons, I never get to express my feelings to people.  They unload their troubles and feelings onto me and then walk away once they realize that I might have something to say.  So, it takes me longer to "forgive and forget." Why then, once I've done this, must I dream of these people and get worked up all over again?

Does this happen to anyone else?  I'm sure it does.  How do you cope with it?  How do you let go of it?

365 Days of Writing: Day 1

Outside the Window

 The sun is shining. You’d think it would be warm, but it’s not.  The autumn came and brought its coolness.  I can almost smell the spiced treats of the season.  It’s the perfect day to sip tea and cozy up next to the cats.    

Autumn is my favorite time of year.  Not just because it's my birth season, but because I'm better suited for the cooler weather.  I'm a sweater and boots type of lady.  Also, I love me some scarves.

It's also a time where I usually reflect a lot over my life.  Over life in general.  It's a time where memories can be felt in my blood, and people who are gone come back to the forefront of my thoughts.  It's a weighty season, but not in an oppressive way.

Days like today, I'm more at peace and more myself than I am at any other time of year.  The air is refreshingly crisp after the long, hot, suffocating, months of summer.

Days like today, I want to be in the woods.  I want to listen to the sounds of the Earth and be "present," in a simple, and primitive sort of way.

"Get back to your roots." 

That's what my soul says; what it longs for.

Today is a healing day.

The problem with Monday

Have I complained about my hatred of Monday before?  I'm sure I have.   Sometimes I feel like it's better to work the weekends, as I used to do.   It's not necessarily the work part that bothers me; it's the having to wake up so flippin' early that makes me mumble insults to the sun. Even the birds weren't feeling up to it this morning. 

Anyway, I feel the same about all weekday mornings. HA!

I'm annoyed with myself today.  Why? I hear you ask bewildered.  Let me tell you, dear friend.

I had all weekend to take pictures that I wanted to add to two pending blog posts.  They're both already written and ready to go, but I thought it would be a nice touch to have images attached, especially since the posts are a bit wordy.

In my defense, I've been sick. But there's always an, "In my defense."

I'm full of excuses.   

Granted, there probably isn't anyone reading this blog, but perhaps the addition of pictures would help?  I know I appreciate pictures.

You know what else I appreciate? I've got 40 posts on this blog so far.  (Including the pending ones.) This is the longest, and most I've blogged.  Used to be, I'd phase myself out after about 5-10 posts.  I'd delete everything and figuratively walk away. 

I'm having fun with this venture so far.  It's not where I want it to be yet, but I'm still figuring it all out.  Eventually, I may even be on a regular blogging schedule.  I'd be happy about that.

Way to go, me!  ::high five::

Yes, I just high fived myself. Don't judge.

Why am I awake?!

Ok, so it's not terribly late...or early, but it's still past my bedtime.  I'm sick as a dog and have been looking forward to bedtime since I woke up.  So, why the heck am I awake?

I'm thinking about this blog.  This isn't something that I need to concern myself with at this very second, and yet here I am.

I want to blog more.  To share my thoughts and all that other good stuff, but I haven't really invested enough time in the process.  I write half-heartedly.  I think that the problem is that I'm not sure exactly what I want to write about or where to focus my attentions.

There are tons of bloggers who have everything covered.  What could I offer to those who enjoy reading blogs? I think I had touched upon this in my first post. I have an array of topics that I'd like to write posts on, and yeah, this was something that I started to keep me writing, so it doesn't matter if I'm writing about what other people are writing about. However, it would be really nice if people enjoyed reading the stuff that I post.  It would be nice if there were people who looked forward to what I post.

I just want this blog to be more organized.  I know  that there is a way I could add drop down menus and the like, but I'm not familar with codes.  It's all very confusing and hurts my brain.  I suppose I'll need to do research and try to figure it out if I want to be happy with this outlet. It bothers me that there's no rhyme or reason to the entries.  I'd like everything to be categorized so that when I want to refer back to something, I won't have to scroll through the list of post titles.

I know I could go to some other blog hosting site and have an easier time of it, but the truth is, I'm not sure how long I'll be blogging for.  I don't mind spending the money if it's something that I can keep up with, but I'm a restless person and flit about from one thing to another. This may last a year, or I could quit it in a month.

I really need to figure out where I'm going with this.  I have ideas, but they'll amount to nothing if I can't sort thoughts as I want to.  Everything I do is always half-assed.  It's starting to irritate me.

Hopefully I'll feel well enough tomorrow to look into some things and maybe even plan out more posts.

Dreams and desires only manifest when we actively work towards them.  I'll never get anywhere if I just sit, and wait, and hope.

Planning and organizing

So, back in May, I wrote a post about Checking in and making changes.  I had mentioned that I wanted to start planning out my time...well it took me a few months but here I am starting to structure my life.

At the beginning of the month, I was in a store and spotted an academic planner in the office supply section.  It's a cheaper and simple Erin Condren-esque planner.  (Let's be honest, who has $50+ to spend on a planner, plus the extra cash for the fun stickers and sh*t? Not this girl.)  *sigh*

It's a start for me.  I've planned out the whole month of August and September, and I have to say, it's been really helpful.  Not that I've stuck to my To Do's that well, it's something that needs to be eased into.  I'm not going to lie, being able to tick off a box after a task is complete is quite satisfying.

One day I'm going to go to the dollar store or check out the craft stores for some cheap sticker packs and other things that could be used to decorate the planner. (No, it's not necessary, but I'm a simple human and therefore get unexpectedly enthused by pretty things.) I've got a limited supply of stickers now, and only because I saved my "collection" from when I was a little one. (Yay for hoarding!  This is why I can't throw anything out! >.<) But they're not the sort of stuff I can use to fill up the pages.

At any rate, the point is, I'm actively using this thing daily and have been enjoying the process.  I'm not an organized person at all, which is a trait I wish I possessed.  Hopefully the more I implement this tool and tweak it until I find a way that makes me efficient, the more I can accomplish.

I have big plans for myself and my future, but none of that can get moving until I organize my life and sort my sh*t out.

Not even worth it...

I guess everyone has their personal torments to live with.  We're meant to face them and overcome them, hopefully with some level of dignity, but probably not.  Being a human is an ugly and awkward business.

We're shortsighted and don't get to see the bigger picture. We get swallowed up by the drag of everyday disappointments.   They cloud our judgment and take control of our minds until we can't see anything else.

At least, I know this is true for me.  I waste a lot of time thinking about things that aren't a concern.  I get bothered by what I can't control.  I try to be accepting of the things that happen, but it's not always easy.  I worry over everything, and I'm at the point now where I realize that none of it is worth the trouble.  None of it is going to make one damn bit of difference in the end.  It will work out or it won't.

I hate not knowing.  I hate the unknown when my world grows dark, and the light is harder to find.

Everything will be ok. I tell myself, but the truth is that I don't know. It's another lie I tell myself to get through a day.  I don't know if life is going to work out for me.  The worst I could imagine is me being the same frivolous thinker on my deathbed as I am now.  I'd be a huge disappointment to myself if that happens.  Even more so than I already am.

They're harder to hold onto when you reach a certain age and have nothing to show for your years of living.  The hopes and dreams I mean. The world was a wide and welcoming place when I was five; full of possibilities and endless adventures.

But, I've done fuck all with my life.  That's my fault.  I'm sure I had the opportunities but lacked the motivation.  I got caught up in my feelings of worthlessness and insignificance.  I allowed myself to be simple and not strive to achieve anything more than what I thought I deserved. So, that great wide world grew smaller and smaller.

That's the horrible and sobering truth.  This is my fault.  I'm miserable because I hold onto shit that's useless when all is said and done.  I want things that are trivial and not worth the effort it takes to try to make them stick.  I ignore the reality that there is a bigger picture and that's what I should focus on.  The rest will fall into place, or they won't.  Either way, they're  just fillers, aren't they? Things to fluff out our years and give life a little more oomph while we wait.  They aren't necessarily important. Regardless of how much I'd welcome them and have a need for them.

I stopped blaming everyone else, though. Whatever they did to me, I allowed. I believed in their low opinion of me because I didn't care to see the difference.  I was in a constant state of "waiting."  I should have been out and about making my dreams come true instead of wasting time wishing on stars.

It's not too late for me to make something of myself but the question I ask myself is, "Is it worth the effort?"  "Do I want it enough?" 

No.  It's sadly easy for me to admit it.  All the things that I want would involve me succeeding and in succeeding, I'd have to be out in the open and vulnerable to the world.  I'd have to surround myself with people and be social. I'd much rather hide away in a hole somewhere, a place where no one would find me. 

I'm a coward. I've always been. 

I'd go mental and live the daydreams.  Which doesn't bother me, I'm half there already.  But I know deep down that it should.  A person shouldn't be ok with becoming crazy.   That's not an acceptable life goal.  It just seems easier than having to deal with liars and self-absorbed assholes who judge you because they don't understand.  They'll always know a lot more than me.  No matter what I say, it's never enough, or it's never right.  I'll never know anything.  To some people, my opinion isn't worth the air I've wasted expressing it.  It's my fault, though, because I never prove them wrong.  I just get angry about it and feel like a fool.

I know what I'm capable of.  People seem to think that they know me better than I know myself, and when they make such statements, even cryptically, I can only roll my eyes and make my arguments inwardly.

 I lack the desire to make a difference.  I lack the confidence.  I've abused myself more than should have been allowed.  I've beaten myself down more than is acceptable.  I keep myself so low to the ground because I've started to believe the lies I've told myself.  I contradict myself daily, because even with all of these negative thoughts I have about myself,  I am worth more than all of this. 

I know that the first step I have to take is finding my way out of that cycle.  I have to let the doubt and self-hatred fall away before I can embrace the possibilities.  It's just not something that I find easy.  No matter what tricks I've tried.  My mind turns on itself like a scorpion surrounded by fire.