Love and Being Alone

*Warning: This is an extremely long post and it’s sort of all over the place, much like me, it’s just somethings I felt needed to be said and things I needed to get off my chest. Hope you enjoy…*

I don’t think I want to fall in love. I just don’t feel like that’s something I want for myself. That’s stuffs scary and it’s too emotional. So much stress, you have to care and live for another person. I can barely take care of myself, I can barely live for myself. It’s just so hard, I mean in all my 19 years of life I have finally come to the realization that life and the world has been stacked against the individual. Times have changed and it’s harder to live life all on your own. From the economy to the now abnormality of being alone, you have to find someone, anyone, to depend on and live the rest of your days with. At least this is what society has taught me. It’s just so strange. I don’t want to need someone else. I truly do love being alone, I thrive when I’m by myself. It’s so peaceful, I’m comfortable, and I promise you I am beyond happy, overjoyed really. And don’t get me wrong sex is amazing and so is conversation, but do I really need to be legally bound to someone for all eternity for those things? No, not in this day and age. We make it so easy to destroy relationships, and have false relationships, I really just wish to ignore and avoid that aspect of life at all cost. Yes marriage sounds beautiful, weddings look fun, and the idea of a family does seem very nice, but the constant and crushing fear of failure is enough for me to come to the conclusion that that’s not where my life is headed. I don’t and I can’t trust anyone. Everytime I’ve ever trusted someone and let them in they let me down. Or I let them in and they give me nothing so I get bored and tried of have to keep up with the one sided charade. It’s agonizing, it truly is painful and to me completely unnecessary. Honestly at this point the only love I want to find is my love for myself. I want to learn and grow to love myself. Every inch, crevice, stretch mark, freckle, curve, bump, cellulite, pimple, eyelash, finger nail, split hair, and discoloration. I want to become my own person, I only want to depend on myself and only love myself. To be quite honest I feel like I’m the only person who truly deserves my love at this point. And the only person who needs it at the same time. I mean who else will give me what I give them. Honestly no one. I mean we as a species have conjured up this idea that everyone is meant for someone and everyone on this beautiful planet has a soulmate, I just don’t think that’s true. I honestly think there are people out there, myself included, who are maybe just meant to be alone. I think we’re all just scared of being alone. I just don’t understand why. Being alone is so beautiful. It isn’t at all crushing or depressing like love is. It’s blissful, truly, truly, blissful. It’s all I want and need. And I’m going to do it. I’m going to be alone. I’m going to take this year to learn to love myself and appreciate the person I am. I’m going to take this year to figure out who I want to be and plan how to get there. I’m going take this year to restart my life, to rebirth myself. It’s time, time I learned to be myself. I know I can do it and I know I need to do it. All my life I dreamed of the perfect guy and all my life I found time and time again he doesn’t exist. I worried so much about others only to find that they didn’t care so much about me. And previously in my life when I’d came to the decision to live out my life alone, I always thought how cruel that was. I thought I’d have to destroy relationships and be a heartbreaker and saw myself as awful. Then I thought I wouldn’t be able to muster up the courage to do it because of the pain I imagined the other person would feel. I also thought I’d be the one getting too attach and end up crush like all the times before. Previous encounters have taught me otherwise. I’m already detached. I don’t think I can feel an emotional connection with anyone, especially not romantically. I just can’t, I don’t think I’m wired that way. I found that I can move on quickly, I’ve learned I’m very self destructive, and that I’m the only one I truly need, that I’ve never and can never love anyone. It’s sad and a harsh reality but I’m sure I’m not the only person that feels this way. And no this isn’t my declaration of Asexuality, no I enjoy being with others, I just don’t want to spend my life searching for the one and getting my hopes up that they’ll somehow “find me”. I no longer care for that fairy tale or storyline anymore. From now on I’m going to live for myself, support myself, and love myself. I just can’t trust that anyone else ever will give me the satisfaction I’m looking for and I don’t think I can do anything for someone else. So here’s to my future, hopefully it’s full up brightness, happiness, and good fortune. And honestly good luck to any and all the souls who read this, may your journey to self love and discovery be pleasant and fulfilling. 

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Lie to Me

October 24, 2015

Lie to me. Tell me things we both know aren’t true. Tell me I’m beautiful, that you love me, that there’s no one else out there for you. I only want to hear your lies, never any truths. Fuel my ego, I crave the boost in my self-esteem. I yearn for that false sense of confidence. It’s as if the lies are a necessity in my survival. I despise the truth. Such a sad and ugly brutality. The lies protect my heart and my mind. Does that make me delusional? Does it make me crazy? I just don’t think I’m strong enough to face the truth. My teacher says all the time “The truth hurts and lies heal”. It’s true, ironically. I’m too fragile to handle the truth. That scares me. I want to be invincible and capable of handling anything, but I’m not. I’m not indestructible, I’m human. I have feelings, I get hurt, I mess up. Maybe that’s why I need the lies. I’m in desperate need of a fantasy, the imaginative things I create in my mind, and the dreams I dream at night. Perhaps I need them to get through life. That’s why I like lies and being lied to. It took me a while to realize that.‚Äč

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Ms. DuBois

October 8th, 2015

Streetcar Named Desire, reads me so well.

Specially, Blanche.

Oh Blanche. She, she is me, and I, I am her. A number of similarities, as if Mr. Williams model her after me. She craves attention, even when it’s negative, she loves it from men and constantly seeks the approval of others. She is immensely insecure, and at times a bit of a petty bitch, yet has this awkward kindness to her at times. My teacher put it best: “she’s an actress”, he says. “She reads people very well” and then as if she possess some sort of magical shape-shifting ability, she molds “herself into what people want”.

I found every word of his description fascinating, because I identified with it so well. Before this, I use to always say to myself “you’re a sponge, you absorb the things around you, only to eventually become them.” I’d always sit and think how I would act in a relationship (never having been in one before), and it didn’t take long to realize in every scenario I’d changed my personality to match the wants of the guy I’d paired myself with. It’s kind of a scary thought. Like a dangerous superpower. I’m an etch-a-sketch. I draw what you want to see and wear that for a while, then when I’m done with you, I shake away the image and prepare for what the next person wants. Medically I believe the term for that would be Split Personality Disorder.

My teacher said its sort of amazing, Blanche’s behavior. He said “you could either love her because it’s kind of cool, or you could hate her because it’s kind of crazy and dangerously insane”. Is it sick how intriguing I find that phrase? “DANGEROUSLY INSANE”. A tremendously enchanting ideology. That one simple human being can possess character traits that are “dangerously insane”. To have this sort of power, I don’t know it excites me. Is that awful? To think that I, could and can manipulate people better than they try to manipulate me, gets me excited for my adult life. Like everyday I can put on a new personality and be someone different to so many different people. Oh boy! I guess that’s why the ideas of dressing up and cosplay and makeup, truly entice me. I mean if you’re unhappy with who you are now, then why not be someone else, someone who not only you, but everyone will adore. I think life is better that way. Blanche taught me something today. Fuck everybody. If they can’t see you for who you are, be something they’ll love to see. Something they’ll never forget. I think I did that today.

A boy. I’ve read him as very materialistic. He likes to look good, so that everyone will see. He stays up to date on all the latest lingo, and I feel he’s a bit arrogant, in more than an annoying way. He’s the true definition of a fuckboy. I felt as though he’d appreciate a more friendly and bubbly type of girl, you know the type that looks at you as if you’re some kind of deity and she’ll do anything for you. Now mind you I’m not the prettiest flower in the bunch, especially today with the ginormous bags under my eyes today, but nevertheless I figured a big bright smile, a few quick flashes of the tongue, and a bit of eye batting with doey looking eyes that said “I want to please you, Sir”, would go a long way with Mr. FB. And boy was I right.

You see the weakness for guys like this is some good ol’ fashioned ego stroking. In other words compliments. I fully believe males love compliments just as much, if not more than females do. For this boy all I had to say was “Nice shirt” while he passed by. And then the next time “nice shirt”, followed by, “you always dress so nice”. His eyes get happy, he likes it, he responds “oh thank you, you know I try” with a nice teethy smile. So I go further, because you know, I’m Blanche I like the attention. I go “are you going for best dress?”, and he keeps it going, he mentions he nominated himself after others told him he should (like I told you before, FUCKBOY, looks good so others will see, and I guess his efforts did not go to waste). Then the situation got even more entertaining because my beautiful distant friend is a Stella. She likes to compete with others over everything. She enjoys possessing the objects of others desires, no matter what they are. She has taken an interest in the fact that I’ve taken “interest” in this boy. Little does she know, my interest is just temporary and false, a charade that will fade by the end of this very class. The most interesting fact for me though is, that she has a boyfriend and she still wants to go tit-for-tat. I don’t mind it. I get to mess with them both. I get to mockingly boost this cute little boys ego, and challenge my “friend” and see how much I can make her do for this boys attention, which before this week she couldn’t have care anything about. People truly amuse me. They really do. And they never cease to amaze me.

Holy shit I just realized, this boy is a sadder version of Stanley.

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