New Landscapes

I feel at peace now.  

I feel fairly happy.

I feel like myself.

I never know if that means I'm at the right place at the right time or if that means I'm supposed to start over, now that I'm stable enough to move, etc. 

Where would I move?  What do I value after all?

I'm getting school out of the way so that I'm not tied down to any one place.  But come May, my options are open.  I know I don't want to stay any one place too long.  Maybe I'll save up money and fly North for a week or two, before I decide.  Just to see.  Next summer.  

I have no idea where I'll end up or what I will be doing, but I'm excited to find out, and content to be here in Shreveport for a little while until then.

You know.  I'd like to know what I'll think when I look back two years from now on this time.  If I'll say I should've done everything within my power to be all right and forget.  Or if I'll applaud myself for waiting on something.  I don't know what I'm waiting on.  I can't convince myself that it will all be better in two years.  I mean, it will be better.  But I think a piece is genuinely missing.  It feels odd to just subconsciously hand out something that I hold so dear to me.  Do I think it's something to be chased--what left me? Do I think it's better in the long run?  I can mostly honestly say, "No."  Does that make it any easier?  Absolutely not.  I don't want to forget about it.  I don't wish it hadn't happened.  I don't know what would make it better.  I just don't know.

Sank You, Sank You

I honestly kind of dreaded posting on here just now.  For some reason, I'm sort of ashamed.  Whether that be shame at my embarrassment for not posting in two months (sorry :/) or because I don't really have anything worthwhile to say or for some unspoken reason (which is the reason I'm leaning more towards honestly), I'm not sure... I don't want to talk about it.

I signed on just now with this sense of retreat, this shame, like I was returning to some familiar vice due to the horizon not turning out quite as intriguing as I thought it looked. However, I saw that I had nine views today.  Some of you are in Russia and could be using a translator right now to read this post because it looks so interesting....  Actually, you probably know more languages than me and can speak better English than I can.  (Sorry, little Russian friend, whoever you are! :) )  But just knowing that there are still people checking up on me--though I've been largely mute over the last two months--was encouraging for some odd reason.  So thank you, so much.  You made me feel like the retreat was welcome and that my absence was missed.  You all are awesome, whoever you are. :)

Okay, enough gushy stuff.  Honestly.

There is a point where one starts looking ridiculous, by the way. I don't know which braid was the one that just put it over the top, but uh.

The Intermission

What to say......

Feelings aren't stupid. But they are stupid.

I want to write something that says I don't care. That I'm happy. That I don't get hurt. I wish I were that person.

I can't fake certain things. I can't fake them enough to believe them. I want to retreat. I want to hide. I want to run back to things. I want to move. I want to cling. I want to quit. I want to start fresh. I want to start writing. I want to stop writing.

I want something.

I just want everyone to be happy. They have their gangs that they cling to. The frickin crew. I was never a part. I was never invited. And that's okay, but I can't say it hasn't always bothered me. I try so hard, but I'm just different. I don't have a problem being different. But sometimes, I do feel very, very alone. The thing is, I just want a close friend. I want a best friend. I feel like everyone has left me, and in the process, I'm not really sure where I stand. What I stand for. Who I am. I believe so much in friendship and love and beauty and fun. I just want something that I don't have. I have a lot. I have more than I realize, and I realize this. I just feel alone. And I see no way of changing that.

Rarely, do I need anyone. But that open knowledge makes me feel very alone when I do need someone and no one is there. I seem to have run everyone off; I seem to have tons of acquaintances and hardly anyone that really is that close to me.

I don't know what I am doing or what I want to do.

It Always Happens

I am a closed book when it comes to telling other people's business. I didn't realize I'm as good as I am, but I guess I've been proven to be the frickin best. I have so many ridiculous amount of secrets from many of my friends that I wouldn't dare even think about telling. I mean good secrets, some of them. The way I view it is that if they trusted me enough as a friend to tell me something that close to them, I'm gonna hold that to the grave. (Unless, of course, it could be hurting someone else, etc.--there are exceptions, but I would tell the person before I blab.)

Anyway, I cannot tell you how many times I have had people spread stupid half-truths about me. They're funny, silly stories from my past with different friends--relationships they don't understand at all. But yet, they go tell people all these horrible sounding things about me. That is the one thing I cannot stand in a relationship of any kind. Trust is HYURGE to me. I don't want to have enemies for friends. Aren't we supposed to care for each other and keep each other's best interests in mind? I understand that I am more comfortable writing about serious things than I am talking about them, so I've been trying to give humankind the benefit of the doubt in these types of situations.

I really think I'm an awesome friend. I'm sorry if that's wrong. I treat others how I would like to be treated. Only my best friends treat me that way in return. And that's why they're my best friends. That's what separates acquaintances, friends and best friends--the trust level, for me. The closeness.

I would never try to start something with someone by telling something they told in private. My mind doesn't work that way at all. I don't understand it.

I don't know if I should say something and possibly lose a friend over it or just stop telling stories all together.

I don't think I'm that bad of a person. I think gossiping with intent to cause friction is worse than being free-spirited and goofy.

I'm trying to see it from your side of the picture too, but this isn't the first time this has happened. I'll still count you as a friend, but I'm sick and tired of coaxing myself to be close to you and give you another chance. Because I really do like you and I enjoy hanging out with you. But I just feel like I'm on eggshells with you.

Right when I feel like I'm starting to like where I am, I start to feel like everyone's against me.

I like hanging out. But I'll never tell you anything again. :( I feel like I lost a friend out of it either way.

I just trust people too much, and I have a big mouth. But only about myself. And only about things I think are funny. For instance, I'll never tell anyone that you hurt me when you do stuff like this. I'll just convince myself it's not a big deal. And eventually, I'll probably believe it. I'll learn to be more standoffish. That's not always unhealthy, I guess. It just sucks because I like having close friends.

90's Brit Panty Party

I want to live in Great Britain for a while in a couple of years. I wouldn't look like a tourist. I'd get a job, learn French, work on being able to hold onto my American accent and still conform to a British accent. (I pick up accents extremely quickly. I just like listening to accents and I start subconsciously imitating the sounds I hear. When I go to Tulsa or St. Louis, I come back talking like I'm from there. It's odd. Oh, and when I lived in Baton Rouge, I lost my southern accent. Which is odd since Baton Rouge is south of Shreveport. I noticed that I started totally messing up words that were easy to say--words like "forward" or "over," for no apparent reason. I think it was because my accent was changing and I only noticed how I was changing when I said words that I normally rarely said. I would only speak with a southern accent when I called my family on the phone; then all of my Baton Rouge friends would make fun of how southern I spoke. They all have no accent at all, which is odd.)

I'm also making a girls' 90's/early 2000's playlist complete with Will Smith, Vanilla Ice, Britney Spears, Tony Vincent (childhood swoon), "Bruises" by Chairlift (semi-current swoon), etc. It's probably the girliest guilty pleasure thing I do--the new house must be christened. Dance panty party. Probably with wine in hand. Yes, please.

Proofreading Rant

Let me just say that the point of proofreading other people's essays is to give specific examples of the errors in the essay. Saying "I noticed unnecessary commas" is not helpful. It makes you look like you skimmed the essay and are providing a blanket reply; it makes you appear lazy instead of helpful. Ctrl+C. Ctrl+V. That's all it takes to give specific examples. Not hard. Please! Tell me what I did wrong. I want to know.

Reviewer: "I think you have great overall ideas about Banksy's Boston artwork. They are cohesive and supported with strong evidence from the painting itself and other outside sources. However, is it from one of the two museums that Dr. McCray required us to choose art from (the Smithsonian and the Museum of Modern Art)? If you did, I think you should probably site it in your paper and works cited page."

Secondly, I would like to say that it is impossible for one of Banksy's pieces of street art to be located in a museum. (dumba$$) If you'd actually read any of the essay or possibly used 90% of your brain, you would have noticed that, dear. Also, a link to the piece of art was in the works cited page. Your question was answered twice before you even asked it.

My passive aggressive reply: "As it is street art, it is not in either of the two museums that Dr. McCray asked us to choose from. But I did ask his permission to do this art piece.

I'll read over the essay again and see if I can find any of the run-ons and unnecessary commas you are referencing. Thank you for your comment!"

Raer.

I appreciate mean people more than I do tattle tales and youngest children style personalities, especially in writing. Just shoot me straight. "I'm not sure that that piece is in a museum."

Stupid human.

WHEW!!!!!

I'm just a peach today. You'd love it. ;)