So I'm currently reading City of Ashes, the second book in the Mortal Instrument series. I'm also struggling to find the right words when I write. I have "Human" by Christina Perri on repeat and I am eagerly awaiting for June 6th to come, so I can see my baby again.
I'm learning to deal with annoying siblings, rowdy dogs, loud noises and immense bundles of dog fur embedded in my leggings. I'm watching it turn from Spring to Winter in less than 24 hours. I'm missing Mackenzie and wishing to be with her. I'm wondering, where has all my time gone? and better yet; what am I doing with it?
I'm refusing to watch Frozen because I hate being "late to the parties", but hey at least Catching Fire won the MTV movie awards. I really love Niall Horan's face--our ship name is Nose. Yeah. Everyone picks it. (You seriously can't deny that). I'm also really loving Josh (Hutcherson's) blonde hair, and I kinda can't wait to publish the book I finished last year. But of course I keep forgetting about it because I'm working on other things; like procrastination. And stuff.
I'm missing our ye old Super Nintendo and our Yoshi's island game. And our Zelda game. And that one game with this guy that had a flute and punched bad guys with it. I never won that game. I could never get past the guy with the big red hands. Because he cheated. I also never won the--what was it, again? Oh yeah. The Lion King game we had. Yeah. Never won that either. Stupid bugs and tricky giraffes. They never know when to keep their heads level. All the little cub wanted to do, was be king.
I'm messing up my relationship with my younger sister. My brother is "getting older" and he's now jacked up on testosterone, so we have to let him vent it. So I allowed him to wear boxing gloves and wrestle with his friend while I made cookie dough and wished the rain would go away.
I love how long this post/passage is getting but I hate how random it is. You probably don't even know what I'm saying but sometimes I need to get these things out and I don't know how. I can't cry. I can't scream. I won't allow myself to do that. Words are there for a reason. And I need to learn how to handle them with an ease, no matter what it is I'm feeling.
I want to work at a bookstore. But my mom was like hey I think I found this job for you. And I was like, "oh yay, will there be people?" It's a job where I would serve people in a hospital their food. So, I'd be surrounded by the smell of death and sterile germs all day. I doubt they'd even hire me. But even a small amount of cash is better than no cash flow at all, right? I mean, I'm sixteen. College is coming. Life is ready to hit me hard. I haven't started working on how to drive. I'm just letting the driving book thing I have to read, sit by my bed, under a stack of books I'd rather read. Like City of Ashes. And Extras. And How To Write A Book In A Month.
I feel as though sometimes I really suck at being myself. People tell me, "We love you. Don't change. Just be yourself", and all that stuff, yah know? But--and as cliche as this sounds, due to the contest I'm hosting--I don't even know who I am. I know the things I'm not. Like I'm not awesome. Or flawless. I'm not always happy.
I kinda just think I suck.
I don't have all the things I want but I can't give away the things I don't need. I tend to work through and complete a project but only after I go through this mental game of "you're never going to complete this" so it just ends up sloppy in the end.
I wish I had something inside me that made me stand out. Like, I want to be able to walk down a street and feel good. I think I crave attention but when I get it I hate it. I want people to look away, or stop talking about me because I'm so under confident that I can't even bear the thought of myself being thought of by you. I'm ranted to about how I shouldn't beat myself up and I know I should stop but why? Because I'll hurt myself? Isn't that the point?
I'm afraid I'm getting fat. I can't do the things I used to be able to do. I was lean and muscular and I almost loved how I could move but now that my dancing days are over I can't bear to look in the mirror before taking a shower. But I do it anyway and I stop. And I stare. And I judge.
It's almost easy to like yourself when you're in a good mood, right? Because it doesn't feel like the whole world is against you. The world isn't against you. What if the world is against itself because it's as doubt-filled as I am? What if it's not me doing this to myself, but the world's negative flow that affects me?
I don't know.
I still think I'm pretty messed up.
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Thank you for reading this. I know it's long and depressing. Plus you probably didn't understand anything I said. But since you're reading this, it must mean you read the whole thing. So thank you. You're awesome. <3