((The word "goodbye" holds no significance in my reality anyways.))

One day, you're going to see it my way. A light bulb is going to flicker on and you'll finally understand what I'm talking about.
But until that day you'll just continue to annoy me with your constant misery.

My problem with you doesn't lie in who you are or what you do. It's who you're trying to be and what you're not going to do. You're miserable. You're unhappy. You hate where you are and on top of that, you're fake and insecure in the worst of ways. Your problem lies in your inability to get over things. You dwell and dwell and dwell until whatever's bothering you consumes you and takes over, ruining not only your day but everyone elses. You're running on some sick, masochistic, drive that feeds you misery in return for attention and the more attention you're giving it, the more miserable you're getting. Its a correlation you're never going to acknowledge and the Freud in me wishes you knew what it meant when I say, "You're letting the Id control you." It only bothers me so much because you're living, breathing, walking, talking, crying, bitching, moaning proof that misery loves company (and quite frankly, you're cliche enough as it is).


To avoid dwelling on such a miserable subject, let's talk goodbye.

The verdict is in, and I've decided saying goodbye is worse than someone just leaving unannounced.

You see, when you say goodbye you’re forcing yourself to be okay with someone going away. You’re trying to make yourself ready for something you really aren’t ready for. Now perhaps they just leave without saying goodbye- without setting a date. Just up and gone! Now you really think you’re a mess, because you “didn’t get to say goodbye”. But really, I think this is the way to form a healthy attachment to someone; If you say goodbye, you’re leaving no room for a struggle. Both people feel like what’s done is done and learn to move on. But if you don’t say goodbye, then there’s a lingering attachment that leaves you striving to stay connected. To always want and need this person to be just one call or text away. Without saying goodbye, you challenge yourself to have hope and to see someone again.
This is how you say “see you later”. This is how you say “stay in my life”.

I suppose my little theory doesn't work well when it comes to people dying, but thats an entirely different cup of chai. I believe I've done enough ranting, though I'm not sure this blog will suffice for a month of absence. I'm getting used to this writing-all-the-time-thing again, and with so much to say I often find myself saying nothing at all.

I'll work on it.

[no subject]

I’m working on re-discovering my grace with words.

A self-proclaimed writer, I pride myself on the words dancing off my fingertips. Only now that my words have found themselves off beat and dancing on the wrong foot, I’m not quick to tell the tales I have to tell.

My love for my own verbal offspring is completely conditional and I can openly admit that.

Something here is obviously dysfunctional and not good for the family environment I’m trying to mimic. This renders every thought I have mutated and socially unacceptable. As the motherly figure in this horrible metaphor, I’m slowly being reduced to tears as I slide a leather skirt over my razor burned thighs and walk the literary streets of shame.

I’m doing everything I can for this family, but I just need a little bit more compassion and compliance from these god forsaken children who just don’t seem to understand the trouble I go through every night. Slaving over the key board as though it’s a burning stove, I’m sweating and trying to cool these third degree burns without wincing. I’m strong, I keep telling myself but I know it’s only a matter of time before I get so fed up I take a drive out to the ravine and take care of things the old fashioned way.

"After this I shall think nothing of falling!"

And so the pessimist returns.

Her hair is unkempt, the circles under her eyes more prominent than ever. She seems to be walking a little bit slower, but that could be caused partially by a recently relived injury. For some reason she’s been dedicating most of her attention to the weather other than focusing on more important things like when the last time she ate was or the time of night, but it’s okay because “it could be worse”, right?

Now, Our Lady Unlucky knows there are more tragic things going on in the world. She knows her recent troubles are nowhere near as seismic as those other things, but she can’t help but grow tired of waking up every morning knowing something to top off yesterday’s misfortunes is waiting for her in the hours to come. Just in the past two days her injury has been enhanced, she’s run out of medicine, she’s got a point at work for something beyond her control, she’s grown to hate her job, and she’s homesick beyond all reason. (But really, when you leave a place like she’s left you would be too). So this obviously leaves Queen Cry Baby near, if not at, the end of her very tattered rope. In an attempt to soothe the pain (both physically and emotionally) she spends much of the day thinking of where she’d rather be. She’s come up with plenty of escape plans and alternates to where she’s at now, but for some reason she’s reluctant to actually pick one to go through with. Perhaps the uncertainty of what she’s picking. Or perhaps she’s fallen so far down a morose rabbit hole that she doesn’t want to find out what else can go wrong. Whatever it is, she’s in no mood to figure it out. She’s come to a point where she’s annoyed with it. She’s annoyed with not being able to really tell it to anyone other than [almost always] herbally enhanced best friend. Princess Pessimist isn’t looking forward to much more of anything anymore, and what makes the entire situation harder for her is she’s unsure of how to even present herself anymore.
And now that it’s been said, we’re going to pretend we never read a thing and we’re going to move on.

Let’s see if we can entertain your already tired eyes. Let’s talk vices. With plenty of time to sit, think, and observe people and their vices, one eventually realizes vices go beyond substances, so we’re going to start with a more fascinating vice- sexual projection. I’m not sure you understand what that means, so let’s elaborate. Everyone puts off some sort of “sexual vibe”, whether it’s absolutely risqué or pretty much non-existent. And here in sunny Florida, there are plenty of people with varying “vibes” but the ones that stand out (of course) are the louder and more sexually suggestive ones. At first we tend to assume these sorts of people are comfortable in their own skin and maybe really enjoy connecting with people. But after really thinking it out, you have to wonder if maybe there are deeper motives. If you’ve ever had the opportunity to be close with one of these people, then you probably know what’s really going on. These are the people who don’t want the attention, they need it. It makes them powerful. It feeds their ego; gives them something to brag about. Of course we don’t always approve of their bragging, but that’s okay to them simply because it goes from being a power thing to being an edge. Of all the vices, I really think this one is the worst. If you’re the one with the vice, you never really know what people really think of you or if the people you’re “projecting” yourself towards really like you for who you are or what you do. It’s much worse than substance abuse, maybe not in the medical sense, but at least in the personal sense.

Let’s leave it at that. If we dive further into the ocean of vices we run the risk of endangering ourselves. We run the risk of drowning in our own hypocrisy and damaging those close to us. Let’s say goodbye and promise to talk about this later (because we all know the chances of anyone bringing this up again are very slim).