Saturday, January 28, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Walking into something which feels a bit like the coyote and road runner... I'll probably end up hanging over a cliff
I'm not entirely sure what I'm walking into today. It could be a pistol whipping gun show or possibly a sappy romantic comedy, or maybe a firework show so glorious that the oohs and aahs play accompaniment to the bangs. Or maybe I'm walking into a deafening silence and my heart will beat it's rhythm so loud and fierce that words won't be needed.
I guess any way it seems to happen, I'm going.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Tattoo cravings
I'm craving a new tattoo. I'm not sure if it's because I want something new and meaningful or because the pain sounds nice right about now, but either way I want one.
I have this theory that the Beatles song "All You Need is Love" is the quintessential truth. That if we all had so much love for one another, be they friends, lovers, partners, strangers, husbands, wives, family, then life would work out the way it is supposed to. I get that this is a naive thought, I really do. But if we all acted out of kindness and selflessness then maybe there wouldn't be any bad, and my relationships that keep ending because of someone being busy, or hateful, or whatever other reason, wouldn't have had to end. We could go on loving one another. I would never have lost a friend, my mother wouldn't drink too much or be depressed, children wouldn't be killing themselves in school parking lots. None of these terrible things would happen if love were all we needed.
But this was all to say that I'm trying to decide whether to get the Beatles' "love is all you need" or Walt Whitman's "some people are so much sunshine to the square inch" tattooed on me. My ultimate tattoo would be a garter belt with a little gun tucked in, but I think it's going to cost too much.
It's going to have to be after I go to Mexico anyway so that it doesn't melt right off my side into a puddle of dirty ink, or flake off into the ocean.
My ultimate goal for the night: paint my nails and try to stay warm.
I have this theory that the Beatles song "All You Need is Love" is the quintessential truth. That if we all had so much love for one another, be they friends, lovers, partners, strangers, husbands, wives, family, then life would work out the way it is supposed to. I get that this is a naive thought, I really do. But if we all acted out of kindness and selflessness then maybe there wouldn't be any bad, and my relationships that keep ending because of someone being busy, or hateful, or whatever other reason, wouldn't have had to end. We could go on loving one another. I would never have lost a friend, my mother wouldn't drink too much or be depressed, children wouldn't be killing themselves in school parking lots. None of these terrible things would happen if love were all we needed.
But this was all to say that I'm trying to decide whether to get the Beatles' "love is all you need" or Walt Whitman's "some people are so much sunshine to the square inch" tattooed on me. My ultimate tattoo would be a garter belt with a little gun tucked in, but I think it's going to cost too much.
It's going to have to be after I go to Mexico anyway so that it doesn't melt right off my side into a puddle of dirty ink, or flake off into the ocean.
My ultimate goal for the night: paint my nails and try to stay warm.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Not a good excuse
I had one of those days where getting out of bed seems near impossible. I laid there for three hours, just thinking about how I should be up, before actually peeling myself up.
It really all boils down to a guy (doesn't it always?). Maybe more on that later, but right now it's too fresh. But just one comment, I would like to say that saying you have too much shit going on is not a good excuse, because seriously friend, who doesn't?
Between bills, debt, loans, school, lack of school, still working the same job you worked in college, friends who leave you at a bar, not being pretty enough, being too pretty, being too short or tall or too fat or skinny, between break-ups and dating and too much of the bad sex, and not enough of the good sex, dry skin, cracked lips and elbows, not having enough time for sleep, having too much time for sleep, broken blower motors (it's a car part perverts), drunken mothers, car crashes, mental illness, insurance, or lack there of, overdrawn bank accounts, maxed out credit cards, graduate school applications, seriously, after all those things, who doesn't have too much shit?
But it's when all those things are colliding at you, when you feel broken and overwhelmed, that you should pull the people in your lives around you like a blanket, warm and like home. I promise, dear friend, it is so much easier that way.
And now, after I sound all preachy, I will say goodnight, and that you are lovely.
It really all boils down to a guy (doesn't it always?). Maybe more on that later, but right now it's too fresh. But just one comment, I would like to say that saying you have too much shit going on is not a good excuse, because seriously friend, who doesn't?
Between bills, debt, loans, school, lack of school, still working the same job you worked in college, friends who leave you at a bar, not being pretty enough, being too pretty, being too short or tall or too fat or skinny, between break-ups and dating and too much of the bad sex, and not enough of the good sex, dry skin, cracked lips and elbows, not having enough time for sleep, having too much time for sleep, broken blower motors (it's a car part perverts), drunken mothers, car crashes, mental illness, insurance, or lack there of, overdrawn bank accounts, maxed out credit cards, graduate school applications, seriously, after all those things, who doesn't have too much shit?
But it's when all those things are colliding at you, when you feel broken and overwhelmed, that you should pull the people in your lives around you like a blanket, warm and like home. I promise, dear friend, it is so much easier that way.
And now, after I sound all preachy, I will say goodnight, and that you are lovely.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Why I feel alone in a crowd of people
I’m not sure I could pinpoint it exactly, this feeling of
being surrounded by people and being utterly alone. It’s strange. Like no
matter how many friends I have and how lovely and amazing they are and no
matter how much I know deep down that they actually think I’m lovely too, I
can’t shake the feeling that I am just completely unlikeable. I can’t even
fathom why given the choice anyone would want to spend their time in my
company.
And I guarantee you I’m not saying this to get a bunch of “but you
know I like you”’s and “you’re amazing”’s. It really has nothing to do with my
searching for compliments. I just
genuinely feel unfit to be around people. I feel like sadness leaks right off
of my skin and sticks to others, until before they know it, they’re sad too. I
know reasonably that this is not the case. I can tell myself all the pretty
words, and I can smile and laugh along. And you can tell me I’m funny and I can
tell you you’re great to be around. I can play along. But really I’m anxious
that you’re judging me, thinking “why is this girl talking to me?” Wondering if
you’re thinking I’m weird and awkward, thinking that I’m a flake, because I
make all these big plans to go out and then I get home and I can breathe, and I
didn’t even realize I was holding my breath in the first place.
And I am uncomfortable being alone, because I wonder if I am
alone because I’m unbearable to be around. But then when I’m around people, I
am generally wondering the same thing. So really this is the reason why I can
feel alone in a room full of people. And you can call me weak, and say that it’s
all in my head and just to get over it, and I would say, oh I would if I could.
Because being lonely is getting so old.
blog origins
I got the idea for my blog title from the poetry collection Astrophil and Stella. Astrophil means star gazer and Stella means star. A star and her gazer, and in this collection the gazing is done from afar. I'm not entirely certain why I like the idea of a star owning another star. In the poems Stella never knows of Astrophil and his love for her, so I always wonder if she's gazing at someone else, in love secretly. This string of unknown adoration. And he would be her star, as she is the star to Astrophil.
It's a romantic idea, and I am nothing if not a hopeless romantic.
I was told a couple weeks ago, twice in the same day that I needed to be writing. And my best friend challenged me to be honest about the depression I have battled with ever since I can remember. So here, dear readers, I am going to be candidly honest. Not always beautiful, not always lovely and sweet, but honest.
It's a romantic idea, and I am nothing if not a hopeless romantic.
I was told a couple weeks ago, twice in the same day that I needed to be writing. And my best friend challenged me to be honest about the depression I have battled with ever since I can remember. So here, dear readers, I am going to be candidly honest. Not always beautiful, not always lovely and sweet, but honest.
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