Cusp of a New Year

For someone who claims to be artistic, I spend a lot more time avoiding making art than anything else (with the exception of singing in a community choir)!

So here’s something new: we’ll try it again. It’s always a good time to start to make changes. And there are changes I could benefit from. For now, I’ll start with a post.

2018 was a bitch of a year, to put it lightly. I think I spent most of it stressed out by my job and missing out on some of the more fun things in life. But when I look back, I can also see progress and that’s something to be celebrated.

I don’t think I completed much self-discovery this year. And though there was a little, I doubt it’s visible to strangers on the street. I don’t feel like I’ve reached a person I want to be forever. And with my 27th birthday around the corner, I wonder what magic and wonder I can work into this next year. What sort of person will I become. Where can I go?

For now, I’m going to go out and attempt to have a good time with some great friends. Another New Year’s Eve without a kiss, likely, but really, it’s been 26 years. What’s another one?



Where Did I Leave Off?

We know how I do this thing. I write fairly consistently for a while and then disappear for months on end. The only sign of my existence is the updating Twitter widget on the side of this blog where all my neurotic thoughts, tragic events, and exciting news updates many times a day. How have you been?

I came here to write and save poetry in the drafts portion of WP, but I find myself writing an actual post. This is the most writing I’ve done in a while. My poetry was off and on for April 2015 for National Poetry Writing Month, but also faded just as quickly as the month did. I miss saying something. Whether people are reading it or not, it was always nice to feel like I said something and said it fairly well.

I’ve been living a lot of life, and quite a few things have changed since my last posting in September 2014. I’ve moved. I loved and lost. I’ve been gained a job twice, and quit a job once. I’m planning on moving again. I’m attempting to go on dates with guys. Sometimes I really feel like I’m living a life, and many times I feel like I’m wasting away. I think I may be doing it a bit wrong, this building/crafting/living a life. But I’m doing it and I’m very proud of that. Doesn’t seem like it often enough, but it’s amazing what I’ve begun for myself.

So it’s been a good minute and this definitely isn’t the most eloquent of returns, but I think I’ll be showing my faces around here some more. It’s about time I got back to writing.


.28 What Do I Think?

I can’t decide if I’m a complete person searching for someone to share this life with, or if I’m one half of a whole eternal being looking for it’s match. I’m both and I’m neither.

I’m the one to admit that I’m falling for someone and deal with what comes from confessions later, but I’m not the one to believe that I can’t do fine all on my own. Would having a man around be nice? Hell yes. Do I need him around for me to make the decisions best for me? Definitely not.

These feelings suddenly overwhelmed me and my emotions are kind of running rampant. I can’t tell which feelings are good ideas, so I write them all off as weapons of mass destruction: no man is right for this moment. As much as I’d like it to be time, this is not when someone will walk into my life. I need to make sense of everything I’m doing–everything I want–before I can entertain such a thought.

I continually find myself on the wrong end of feelings for guys at the wrong time, in the wrong place regardless of what I know. This is the story of my life.

.27 Wishing

It’s been months, but I still think about you all the time. Every night, I still hope that you will wake up the next morning wanting me.

It sounds pathetic and, truth be told, it feels pathetic too. But you are unmatched. You are refreshing. And you are not mine.

Things in my life aren’t quite balanced and put together, so I can’t expect something so lovely to stay a spell. I know love will come when love is supposed to come. And even if I have to wait, I hope it’s you that finds me when things have fallen into place.

.26 Why

I don’t want to speak to Him until there is definitive proof, without any doubt, that I can exist in that space without wanting to set it on fire or feel like I’ll personally be set on fire.

I still can’t understand how I’m supposed to want to talk to someone(?) you only hear to give hate, or praise something(?) you only know to make you out to be a monster.

God is love? Sure, I can see that. When you’re problems are the same as everyone else’s problems. When you’re already part of a body of believers. If you don’t fit this, then you’re doing it wrong. If you don’t know this, you’re not ready.

If He knew what you all claim that he does, why can’t he talk to me in a way that would, I don’t know, Work?

.25 Hypocritical

I’m the friend that always, without a doubt, says “Don’t give up hope.  Life is about risks.”

To this day, I still stand behind that. Shit happens and people are assholes and we bruise ourselves all the time when we think we’re being careful. I don’t know how and I wish I knew why, but we don’t. It just happens. And I find myself balancing on the line between hypocritical and taking my own advice.

My trust has been breached a few times within the past couple of months. The levels vary, but they all add up to me feeling as though I will never be able to trust someone new; all the people I have feel like all the people I’ll ever have. Back in March, I had a dramatic life change thanks to someone I was getting very close with. These many months later, it seems as though they were lying and knew much more that they should have shared with me than they did. It hurt then and now it still hurts. But now last night, someone I’ve been chatting with (in a mostly platonic sense) confessed that they’ve been lying about their age. We’ve met in person and it wasn’t a large lie so I wasn’t upset about the lie itself. I mean, if we haven’t already, we probably will lie about our age to someone. Human vanity. BUT this lie just took me back to the previous person. If they were willing to lie about something so simple as one year difference in their age, then what else could they be lying about? I had to try to explain upon waking up today that I don’t mind the lie, but it worries me that he could be keeping more important things a secret.

I don’t know how to continue trying to trust people, when I’m repeatedly being shit on while I’m being completely honest about everything. I see where my friends have struggled, but I don’t want to give up. I’m just a bit scared to keep going.

.24 Intention vs Reality

You say you’re providing me with ample opportunities to open myself up to whatever wonders may be in store for me by forcing me to church every Sunday morning. In reality, you just cultivate the anger within me to where I’d rather shut down than try.

Is my reaction healthy? Probably not. But neither is force-feeding me something I should be able to decide for myself as an adult.

You say you’re helping, but I just feel shafted and hurt.