Self Pity is Poisonous.

Certainly the most destructive vice that a person can have, more than pride (which is supposedly the number one of the cardinal sins), is self pity.20130803-110629.jpg
Self pity will ruin a person.
Will ruin a relationship.
Will ruin a friendship.
Will ruin your own metal stability.
Self-pity is the gift that keeps on robbing. The Black Plague of attitudes, a poisonous leech attached to one’s heart.
It is an acid which eats holes in not only your happiness, but everyone that associates with you.
Self-pity takes away the strength needed to escape the predicaments you’re in.
I’ve never been one for expressing self pity. Truthfully one of the biggest peeves I have is watching someone flounder in their own.
Complaining about where you are in life is the first toe-dip into the wide world of self-pity.
Make some damn changes.

Right now in my life I am struggling with something I don’t fully understand.
Yet when I do come to understand it a little better, I’ll be back to dig deeper into the cause and meaning of this struggle.

But for now, I’ll continue to open up to friends I don’t know, and men I’ve never met.

Can’t sleep alone.

I’ve not slept in four days.
I can’t even think, I can’t form words to express how I feel. My mind is cluttered with nonsense.
Tears fall from my eyes, without emotions behind it. Everyone upsets me, everyone frustrates me. The tiny pet peeves I have that I choose to turn a blind eye too, now stands out like a searing burn.
My head throbs. My heart aches.
I blow up over the smallest things, and nothing makes sense.
Why can’t I sleep.

Communication Me.

I fixate on my phone screen. Scrolling through the slew of notifications I had received within one hours time.
First I started with my phone calls, listen to the short voicemail.
I check Instagram, Twitter, and if I’m feeling good, maybe even Facebook.
I open my text messages, I read them all. Yet reply to non.
I close out my phone and return it to the wall charger.
I turn on music and drift away from digital social life.
And I ask myself. Are all these new forms of communication really helping us communicate?
Yesterday I spent over 4 hours on the phone with people I thoroughly enjoy talking to.
In one of the conversations I had with a sweet gentleman from Tennessee, we discussed communication today, compared to when we were younger.
We are both in our twenties, and so we got to see both sides of the spectrum.

Talking for hours on the house phone with your best friend, pacing in a corner because the cord would only give you about two yards of leeway.
Today your bestfriend is the person you posted a meme on their Facebook wall, and LOL at.
Things change.
Usually for the worse.
Do we still know how to communicate?
Do we know how to have long conversations?
Discuss everything, and nothing.
No spellcheck, or editing.
Just our lips. Just the first thing that comes to mind.

Lets open up.
Lets dig deep into our hearts.
Lets talk about it.
Lets talk.

Be a Man.

I ask of one thing from the males I come in contact with.20130611-132536.jpg Just be a freaking a man.
For Gods sake it isn’t that difficult.
The initiative if for you to take. TAKE IT.
Please do not expect me to chase you for your attention.
If you want a woman to be a part of your life, grow a pair and pursue her.
Women want to feel wanted, and it is not the woman’s job to take the initiative.
That is for the man to do.
Haven’t heard from her all day? Text her and tell her you miss the words that fall from her lips.
Be a man. Be a strong man.

Dear Man Across the Room.

Dear Man Across the Room,
It was a pleasure to make eye contact with you. I like the outfit you decided to wear today, and you have an incredible smile. But please don’t come over here.
You see, even though we both enjoy looking at each other, I sincerely don’t want to waste your time.
Thank you for asking for my number, it was great talking to you, I truly believe you’re interested in me.. but I don’t want to waste your time.
You see, sweet Man Across the Room, I’m a lost cause, and even though my father told me not to let my heart grow cold, I believe I already have.

Why don’t you believe me?
Okay, lets just say there is a spark between us, lets just say we date, lets just say you start to call me yours, and I call you mine.
You’ll come to learn that I’ll never let you say the word “forever” around me.
You’ll tell me you love me everyday, and I’ll never reply with the same.
You’ll never get to make love to me.
You’ll talk of marriage, and future, yet everytime I’ll laugh and change the subject.
I won’t let you get close, you’ll try, and you’ll fight, and I’ll sit in silence and you’ll walk away in disgust.
This is who I’ve become.
And the day you realize that, and the day you tell me, “We will overcome this cold silence”, is the day you will never lose me.

Because all I ask for is true effort.
True, unwavering, passionate, effort.
But we will never find out if you will give me that effort, because I will never give you the chance to prove yourself.

But thank you, Man Across the Room. I hope you find what you are looking for in someone else.

When it isn’t right.

DSC_9687I will not let you become infatuated by me.
I will push you away as soon as you decide you want to be close.
I have come to realize that I am completely emotional unavailable. No matter how much I want to be in my head. Being available sounds like such a great idea, in theory.
No I am not ready to admit I care for you. I don’t even know how to care for someone anymore. Why do you make this so hard.
My heart is somewhere else. I don’t even truly know where that somewhere is, but it isn’t here. It isn’t with us.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.

A Quick Listen.

I’m sitting down today without much inspiration to write to. I find it difficult to be inspired when I don’t have something I feel necessary to complain about. I realize that now I am settling into a place I love, with all the happiness I could ask for, it will take a toll on my writing.
What do you write about when everything is astounding? It’s interesting how I dont like to brag about my life, yet I have no problem complaining. In writing, that is.
It has been 7 weeks since I’ve been in a relationship.
It has been 6 weeks since I kissed a man.
And it has been so long since I was seriouslyinterested in anyone romantically.
For some, this seems like nothing to make a big deal about. But mind you, this is the longest I’ve ever gone without an emotional tie to someone. I’ve learned through experience that jumping from one relationship to another is just not giving yourself time to heal.
Time to figure out what went wrong and how can you avoid it.
It’s important to have that alone time, and to focus on yourself and no one else.

I’ve come to learn this in my mistakes.

Was it real.

DSC_8550People would constantly tell me, ” Wow, I had no idea you guys were struggling. You’re an incredible actress.”

They said these things because all they saw were loveless pictures, such as this one.

What they didnt know was that the majority of this day I spent holding back tears.

I remember the silent drive home, and crying myself to sleep that night. I was so unhappy and depressed. And he wasnt bothered by it.

Thats all I remember when I look at these pictures.

Were we even happy, baby? Was it all for show?

Home is where the bullshit is.

For a substantial number of years, I have been living out of my car, or a suitcase, or on a couch, or in someones spare bedroom. For the majority of my adult life, I have chose to live in these conditions. I have never minded it, no matter how sad it sounds.

I’ve just always been running away.tumblr_mnerwn17OQ1qk1jiqo1_500
Driving away.
Putting more distance between me and my emotional tie I had with a man.
Constantly on the running from a relationship I ended.
Why am I like this? Why do I love to run away? I can honestly say I don’t even understand my own reasoning.

I moved out of my parents house when I was 17 years old, and since then I haven’t managed to spent more than 11 months in one place. Even the last home I lived in, where I was suppose to let myself settle and make a life in, I had to force myself to hang things up and try and get comfortable, because I knew I wouldn’t be there long.

Home is where the heart is. Home is wherever I’m with you. This is a house, not a home.

Do you know how many times I’ve fed those lines? How many times I’ve NOT felt at home. It’s unbelievable that at 21 years old, I am still living out of a suitcase and boxes…

… and I’m not on tour.