I Need To Write More

I need to write more.


So I'm trying to. Even if I have nothing to talk about, or anything in particular I want to write. I need to make it a point to write more. At least 30 minutes a day. Hopefully this will lead to something. Im unsure what. I know I'm a talented writer. So I should make use of said talent.

This Is New

I've been dating J___ going on 6 months now. Though it's not an amount of time I've ever considered long, I--actually we, feel like it's been forever. It's not too strange when you think about it though. We knew each other for at least 3 years prior to dating.

Upon further thought I realized how easily we sank into each others lives. We have this crazy ying and yang effect that I'm finding really hard to ignore. It's a strange yet nice feeling. I've seen how happiness with someone in the first few months has played out way too often with friends so I gotta say I'm not interested in rushing it. I can't help wonder though where this will take me. Either way I'm enjoying the ride. Slow and steady wins the race.

He makes me laugh, but more than that; he makes me giggle uncontrollably, like a child would if being tickled (embarrassingly enough). He kisses me everywhere: my hands, my shoulders, even my feet. I would say he has successfully planted a kiss on every part of my being, including my mind and soul. When he embraces me he breathes me in and tells me how wonderful my scent is. Even when my hair smells of chlorine after I've come back from the pool, he comments on the loveliness of my pheromones. When he touches me, he remarks on how soft I am, how wonderful it is to be near me.

He is strong and of good build. His voice is deep with gravelly hints, but not so much to take away from it's sweetness. It's appealing to my ears.

Geez it's embarrassing to say, but... as masculine as he is, he amazes me with his gentleness.

We're both emotional people so we take turns falling apart. Sometimes when it's my turn he wraps himself around me and soothes me with his words; those words calm in such a way that all I can do is believe him. So I do.

Today was one of those word-soother days. He looked at me and asked if I'd been crying. I hadn't, but I had been holding it back, which was apparent from the tears in my eyes it seems. Before my face even had the chance to crumble he slid in bed with me and held me close. He used so many words, some of which he said before, but today he said something different and it stuck with me: You're a beautiful woman. Both inside and out.

less than a minute later he repeated, "You're a beautiful woman."

Him calling me beautiful is not a strange thing, in fact whenever he does say it I quite enjoy it. But this was different. I watched him intently as he spoke: his eyes, the seriousness in his expression, his hand stroking my arm lightly to comfort, I watched him. And in that moment I believed him completely. And now that the moment has passed I still believe him.

Outside of family, I don't think I've ever had someone say that to me and fully believed they meant it. Both the beauty and being a woman part.

This is new.

I like it.

The United States of Wastfulness

I work in a place with a bakery. I learned last night that EVERY day they throw away trash bags full of bread. GOOD bread. One of the janitors has a good rapport with my coworkers. I spoke with him and he said, "Yes, everyday it's like this." He leaves it out on a counter so people can take it home. "I feed my family with this bread."

In the United States of America we throw away so much food. We throw it away because it doesn't look uniform, perfect. We throw away food because some of us have too much of it. We throw away food because it's the end of the day and it didn't sell.

There are actual people starving across the street, and we're putting full loaves of bread in the trash.

The bakers make sure to only place bread in the trash bag. That way they are following company policy of throwing away day old bread, but allowing others to salvage it. I made toast this morning with a cranberry walnut loaf the janitor showed me. "It's perfectly good bread."

It was.

It's A Long Long Long Long Long Long Way Coming Down

Long time no type. 

I went on vacation and when I returned I took a nap, got up cooked two meals, and then when it was time for bed, balled my eyes out for three hours. 

Wash, rinse, repeat.

I've been down this road before. It isn't the most pleasant. I find myself often nostalgic for something I've never had; looking above for some answer and hearing silence. But I try my best to keep on trucking-a-long.

It's hard.

That's life.

It sucks.

Maybe one day it won't feel this way.

Discouraged

I write this during another insomnia episode. Maybe it's the stress from having to live with roommates who do not cherish the sacredness that is home, or that my period should be starting any day now and I'm super hormonal, but I am very discouraged at the moment.

I  just, at this passing moment no less, broke down into tears. I want to go to sleep so badly. I have to wake up and go into work an hour earlier (something my boss likes to wait until 4pm to ask of me), which is normally not a problem.

Forgive me if my thoughts bounce around as I write this; I have so many so often it's hard to keep up with myself sometimes.

I'm discouraged because for over a year now--not religiously every month, but definitely religiously 92 percent of the time I have been looking for new work. The job I am at currently is doing nothing for me but sucking the soul right out of my body. I don't know how people work in offices. I don't know how people work in offices that produce terrible things. I don't know how I'm still working in an office that produces terrible things.

For a year and a half I have applied applied applied, and have had no more than three actual interviews, maybe four. They can't even follow up with me to let me know the position is taken. Or even better, I get an email three months after applying for something saying they are no longer looking. Thanks, I kind of figured that three months ago when you never got back to me. In fact I forgot I even applied so what really is happening is you're reminding me of my failure. Great.

And I'm tired. I want to sleep so badly and I can't. I want to look for work, but I'm so tired and emotional and frustrated and I can't.

I haven't felt this down and out for a while and my fear is that it's the onset of something worse: my cycle through depression. I don't think it is though, my ovaries are starting to cramp a little to much for it to just be that. But the fear of going into another cold winter still working in this office makes me want to step in front of traffic, no joke.

My inability to get interviews, while my coworkers go on interview after interview after interview, weekly, makes me feel inadequate. I've re-worked re-written re-blahblahblah my resume so many times now I have a folder on my desktop titled "My Resumes."

It doesn't help that I still have no clue what I want to get into. It doesn't help that I don't feel like I'm really all that good at much.

Even the things I enjoy doing I can't see myself doing for any long period of time.

I have no idea what that means. I have absolutely no idea what that means for my future. And the uncertainty in that makes me even more anxious. I spent a good few months learning to relax and not worry so much. I've spent a lot of time feeling grounded and okay with my current situation; why not? I am doing everything possible to change it.

But maybe I'm not. I feel like maybe I'm not doing enough. But how can I do more? When can I do more? Between working, working out, trying to eat right, working on my side projects, and trying to keep my apartment from becoming an actual shit-hole, I hardly have time to eat, sleep, and take showers.

The more I think about it the more hopeless about my work situation I feel. I really really hope that I'm just being hormonal, but I'm sure it's more than that. I've spent a year and a half-- A YEAR AND A HALF-- looking for work, looking for a career and nothing.

I don't even feel like I'm all that good at anything at this point. Whenever I do something I think I like, eventually I lose all passion, and I feel empty, like the work just sucked all of the joy out of me.

And maybe that's the real deal with work. You're miserable, but you have to continue living somehow so you press on in your miserable life finding outlets via an escape, a hobby, a bad habit. And once you settle into that miserable job you settle for a miserable person to be miserable with you; and because you are afraid of dying alone you marry, and you have children, and they grow up to be just as miserable as you and then you die alone anyway.

That's not the life I want to live. I really do feel like I've grown a lot the last few months for the better, but my insides are falling a part.

I don't know the future. Maybe in 24 hours I'll meet the love of my life, get an amazing job doing something I care about, be able to take care of myself and my offsprings--though I'll still die alone because that's just life, you die alone (God, I am a very depressing person).

Or, I'll continue having small shards of my soul taken away until there is nothing left but that shell of a being necessary for me to live a very boring, unsatisfied, regretful life.

I don't know.  According to the clock I won't be sleeping tonight. That's nice.

God I hope I'm just getting my period today.

Fast Approaching Nothing

I feel like a captain who has lost his ship; afloat on top of a piece of drift wood in a vast sea.

It's not very often I find myself  making a decision that is "the best for me" but at the same time complete and utter misery. I found myself doing this recently. And as I predicted, I gained my freedom from the world I was living in, but lost everything else-- though I thought I'd be oh-so-happy to let go of it.

I'm not sure what I was expecting to come of it.

Was I expecting a last grand gesture? Or maybe that immediately following all would be dandy and I would be well on my way to bigger and better and brighter things? Not to say that I'm not. More so to say maybe I wouldn't feel as shitty as I do right now or that my world still feels like it imploded. 

Contrary to my beliefs-- or maybe not-- It still did. I realized last night that even when I don't run away from problems, even when I take a stand and make a well thought out decision, I still lose. This is going to sound really depressing so forgive me in advance, but life seems to be a lose-lose kind of deal.

Though.... The wounds are still fresh. Everything seems miserable when you just cut off your finger. Now what if you cut it off because you had gangrene? Would that make your misery any less applicable? Not really, but in the long run you'll be fine. Right?

I want to believe I made the right choice. I want to believe that all of these feelings are just blinded emotional shades that will eventually be lifted off of me. I want to believe that so far this year I've cleaned out my closet and then some. I want to believe things can only get better, even though right now it feels the worst.
\
I wanted to end that last sentence with "so I will" but I know myself. I won't. I will wallow. I will beat myself up. I will cry. I will crave. I will try and build myself up, only to breakdown. I will harden slightly only to completely soften at the perceived sincerity of the next. And I will fight internally whether to fully trust another person or to keep my guard up. But by then it will have been too late.

I'm just miserable.  


 

Giraffe Parts

I wasn't going to say anything about the Denmark zoo things but then.... I had to log this CNN news story and was like, "UGH." So I'm writing America an open letter of sorts:

Dear America,

Listen, could they have given Marius the giraffe to another zoo? Maybe. Would that have been a happier ending for that poor giraffe? absolutely. But guess what?

Before we can be up in arms about a giraffe in another country that is not only known as one of "the happiest countries" in the world and who seem to have their snit somewhat together... maybe we should be up in arms about Jordan Davis; about our veterans coming back from war unable to find work and begging on street corners.

Maybe we should be outraged by the MANY chemicals mixed into our food, the antibiotics fed to the animals WE eat and feed our children; into the lotions and products we use everyday.

Let's be mad about the fried chicken and watermelon lunch for "Black History Month" and the piles upon piles of debt students have after being told you HAVE to go to school if you want to get a good paying job only to get out of school and find NO work.

I'm not saying to forget about the rest of the world or the treatment of animals. I'm saying If you want to be upset be upset about Syria. Be upset about the treatment of the Roma people. Be mad about what's happening in Somalia. Be mad about how Japan dumped TONS of radioactive water into the sea that will affect your food supply, your children's food supply, and your children's children's food supply.

I know it's hard to think about all of those things, but those things are WAY WAY WWAAAAYYY more pressing than a giraffe that is now excreted Lion waste (Less we forget Marius is a tasty meal and could have been eaten by a pack of hungry lions if he were still in the wild.

Wake up.

Do something.

Change the world in a positive way. Change the country. Change your state. Change your city. Change yourself.

*Rant over*