Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Everyone is graduating.
Cousins, friends, everyone. 
College, high school, graduating; success.
And here I sit on a bus.
Not in high school, not in college, not graduating. Unsuccessful.
Do they call this state of being failure?
Am I suffering from a prolonged state of nostalgia?
Last night I filled up my gas tank for the third time this week.
I didn't fill it up all the way, of course. Increments of ten. Baby steps.
Come on people.
What more can I do with a paycheck for less than enough? Sure to be my last paycheck, in fact.
And I can't tell you how much that hurts. Broke; jobless in a small city with small people. Traveling in a car that could be, in fact, more broke than I am.
So, at this gas station I find every spot occupied by people who seem to be traveling in the same group. Loud, excited, party animals, if you will.
They seem to be enjoying life even though they do look ridiculous.
Hey, I'm the one with a close to worthless debit card in my teeth, too lazy to refill the steering fluid in my car. Too broke to fix the problem that forces me to refill the steering fluid once a week.
I survive off lettuce and rice, for Christ's sake. Coffee and creamer.
Cigarettes and steering fluid.
I can't sleep without a light on.
I can't sleep without saying goodnight to someone.
I can't sleep without my fucking stuffed animal.
Hey, I've made it this far.
I've survived more than a few months supporting my meaningless existence in a city that can swallow you whole.
I hope this doesn't mean I'm giving up.

Monday, February 18, 2008

Oh, Robert.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
- Robert Frost

I swear, this balcony is a muse. Not only to my thoughts, but it's also a muse to the activity leading to emphysema. Scared? Not much.
Let's talk about the kitchen. It's supposed to be clean, right? No. Let's all watch Jas slave over cleaning the kitchen, then contribute to the mess piling up for days and days until Jas cleans again. It'll be fun. Seriously, let's do it.
I'm hella down.
I'm counting the days until my macdaddy is in my arms (Mac book). My dreams will come true. And I will know of nothing else beside the Macdaddy.
I don't know.

Monday, January 28, 2008

Je ne sais pas.

Windy, rainy, and cold. That's what it is outside. Outstanding weather, I must say. Ideal for a mug of hot chocolate, in my opinion. It's a shame there's no milk around here. I'm dying to finish the book I'm reading, and what a better compliment to a book than a mug of hot chocolate? What a better compliment to this windy, rainy, and cold weather than a lack of warm clothes? What a predicament.

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Me c'est, la mort.

It was around 9pm when I left the apartment in Hollywood. I vaguely knew the directions to where I was supposed to go, and 10 minutes into the drive, I realized I passed my exit. Quickly, I got off on the nearest exit which happened to be a dark, desolate, and very scary area. Speeding and becoming very upset, I went back in search for the freeway. It happened to be sprinkling. Nothing bad, but it was sprinkling enough. I found a ramp to the freeway, so angrily and hastily, I stepped on the gas to hurry my exit. It was a three lane on ramp, and there were about ten cars behind me when I found I was going too fast. I tried to turn a little, being in the far left lane, I was about to hit the side of the ramp. My car's back wheels began to jiggle back and forth violently until suddenly my car practically launched itself sideways. I spun around a few times up the ramp until I finally stopped, facing opposing traffic. I damn near died. I got really lucky, but damn.
I'm okay, and luckily I didn't get hit, but I'm pretty emotionally messed up. I was trembling and crying practically the whole way home. I came home to tell my story, but no one really cared. Apparently Family Guy is far more important.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Ahhh, c'est si confortable.

It's usually around 8am when the alarm clock will go off, and when you're that tired, 3 minutes really does count. So you reset the alarm for 8:03. You close your eyes, and, as it seems, a second later, the alarm clock buzzes happily next to your ear again. And, when you're that tired, 5 more minutes really does count. So you reset the alarm for 8:08. As you may have guessed, these steps repeat and in the end, you wake up at 9:25. This leaves you stressed and running frantically out the door with a beanie on, mascara all over your face, and teeth that have not yet been brushed.
Moral of the story is: Wake the eff up!
Is it really that difficult to do? Yes. The answer, my friend, is, yes. Yes it is.
Luckily, today has not a busy schedule, and I have not work. I shall bask in the lovely circumstance of inactivity and friendlessness. Maybe I'll take a shower, maybe I won't.
"Brush your teeth at least 2 to 3 times per day, and floss at least daily." (I don't floss. Never have.)
I think maybe I'll explore my surroundings for the first time in 4 months. Honestly, I'm just assuming my major mood swings (and inability to wake up) is due mostly to being homesick. I've gone 4 months without a trace of homesickness, and alas, here it is, knocking on the door of my heart. *sigh*

Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Be still, my heart.

I'm beginning to really question myself now. What am I doing here? Am I making something of myself? Am I being the best that I can be? Am I living in the moment like I say I am? What do people think of me? What do they expect?
Can people see my true colors? If they do, are they good colors, or bad colors? Am I even colorful at all? Damn.
Amidst the unanswered questions, I always come back to those comforting thoughts: Soon enough, it'll be my day. My month. My year. Everyone will look at me and say, wow, you really did it. You're really something. Look at that. Wow. Yeah, I'll walk through the extremely heavy Starbucks glass door with a quad shot iced latte in my hand and I'll chuckle to myself, because I am better, and I am highly caffeinated.
Coming back to reality, I know that it'll take time and lots of dedication, but I can be what I want to be as long as I really want it. Everyone who tells me I can't can suck it. (You know who you are. Damn you.) This concludes my first official online blog. The end.