September 2011

Pursuit of Happiness

Current Location: My carpeted corner
Current Mood: discontent
Current Music: Kid Cudi – Man on the Moon

People tell me all the time that I shouldn’t be such a good person. When i think about it, I cant help but wonder, is it the fact that I’m always cheerful and positive that irritate people? Or is it their own insecurities because they don’t trust or care for anyone unless a stranger gives them a reason to?

“Nobody would be there for you. And if it was really about trust, they wouldn’t run away from you when things got tough. People don’t give a shit about you in this lifetime. They are always looking out for only themselves. So why bother looking out for them? You need to always put yourself first and be selfish. That’s why I don’t give a fuck. I don’t care who I hurt, I do what I want to do, when I want to do it.”
That is the best advice you have to give me? I can’t ever help but shake my head in silence.

It’s conversations like these where you have to be patient. People aren’t hard to read at all. You hear people always saying, “I can read people.” or “Trust me, I know people.” or “I can sense vibes.” The truth is, every human can do it. Congratulations, it’s called being mindful and paying attention to your surroundings. So you wonder why you think like that? You don’t let yourself be happy. And you question my smile? Everywhere I go, people smile and wave at me. Strangers come and talk to me all the time. I have an approachable face and a warm energy (so I’m told). People tell me I am their favorite because I listen and I care. I give a shit. People call me with their accomplishments and complaints. I am the person my friends vent to. I am the friend who is friends with everyone. I don’t see labels and for God’s sake, I see animals as people! I see people everyday try so hard to be a good person for selfish reasons, and they wonder why their world is constantly falling apart. It’s not good to start a charity foundation just so you can get recognition and have more opportunities to get free stuff, sorry Tony, but it doesn’t work like that. You can’t use people for years on end for money and expecting your stick thin, good looks to get you by Chelsea. It doesn’t work like that.

Henry David Thoreau once said, “If misery loves company, misery has company enough.” Why do I have to be put down for my happiness? Is that even fucking real? Who tells people, “You’re too fuckin happy, man. You gotta frown and push people around every once in a while?” WHY WOULD THAT INTEREST ME?!
If this about me being naive and blinded by ignorance, I will be fine settling with that fact. I would rather be ignorant than arrogant any day. So what if I give homeless people money and hold open doors for a swarm of 12 people? Who is going to object me picking up the trash that four drunk people just dropped walking up ahead of me? Why should I be judged for helping a random person at the park find their lost kid or giving a girl my one good pair of tennis shoes so she can enjoy a concert? Because let’s face it. I have five other pairs at home and she lives two hours south of the city.

I do the things I do because it helps me be happy. It gives me a sense of fulfillment to make someone’s day or help someone out. Call me crazy and call me stupid. Call me anything you want. Continue your selfish ways and do whatever you think will make you happier. I’m not going to question your reasons of your actions. We are given the opportunity to make decisions for ourselves and there is no right or wrong answer. It’s your own road to happiness. I don’t understand why people just don’t give others the benefit of the doubt. Why do strangers deserve spit and anger? Since when did “fending for ourselves” solve anything?

I’ll tell you what….. You follow find your happiness and I will find mine.

Lovers aren’t the only ones who break hearts.

Current Location: The dreamy boy’s bed.
Current Music: Radio Talk Show

My best friend has been a real shit lately. Lola has lied and hurt many people in the process of her finding her “happiness” and cheating on two different boyfriends, thinking that since they live in two different states they would never find out. Well they have and she continued to do it because she has this thought that being ruthless and a “bad girl” is enjoyable. It’s almost sickening. She doesn’t show any remorse nor any signs of a conscious and her feeling bad. I kept telling her if she didn’t stop hanging out with shitty people then bad stuff would happen to her. Why does nobody ever listen to me? She hangs out with this horrible girl who has been in three different police reports just this summer alone. Actually, within the past month alone. Everyone in our shared circle of friends have all commented on how Lola doesn’t talk to them anymore, myself included. They all comment on how different she acts and how sad and sick she looks. She won’t listen to anyone, but instead, continues to hangout with, Naomi, we’ll call her. This girl is the reason she has been so different. Not even Lola anymore. A girl I don’t even know. A girl I am heartbroken to call my twin. To call my best friend.

She got humiliated yesterday by having the ex-boyfriend from Oakland post naked pictures and sex pictures of her on a public website, as well as linking it to her Facebook profile. More than showing embarrassment of the incident, she called herself the “new celebrity of Salt Lake” and thanking that she looked good in the pictures. You would think that she liked the attention, as she couldn’t stop reading all of the comments. She said that she doesn’t even like giving head, that she only agreed for the picture to be taken because he asked her to. As if that makes it better. It killed me to see the pictures. I care so much about this girl and when she hurts, I hurt.

Today my best friend Peachry and his sister Monique came to my house. Peachry is Lola’s ex boyfriend, who was played with and blindsided by the skinny girl with red hair. Anyway, him and Monique came over today and we talked about the situation, he hugged me and started crying. He cried, literally, on my shoulder. That alone broke my heart. We all three sat in my kitchen and ate cookie dough and shared our emotions about the past three months and how we have all been affected. Our thoughts, etc. We got a lot of it out and left the house each feeling a little bit stronger. He told her tonight that he wanted nothing more to do with her. He went as far as taking her off Facebook, blocking her, giving her all of her stuff back, and deleting her phone number. He really took a big step and I know it was hard for him. I admire him for his strength.

Tonight, my boyfriend was at my house and he was playing a game on the couch while I was cleaning my house. I got a call from Miss Lola and on the other end of the receiver was the voice of Bella. My blood heated and my body cringed a little. I agreed that she could come over to get her waxing kit and her astrology book back; which oddly enough, earlier today I was thinking about taking those two things out of my house because I felt it was keeping some sort of bad energy there; even though I loved that book. So, as if I somehow attracted this odd event, Naomi pounded on my door when she got there, of course. I can’t say anymore than that, because the rest is in a police report and if I typed out what happened, that would be messing with the case. So take my word for it that it escalated enough to get cops involved. Punches, pepper spray, and damages. It’s not even the incident that bothered me so much, besides the fact I fear for the safety of my house. I felt sick to my stomach that Lola had just sat in the car, laughing (for whatever reason) and let it happen. She brought her friend to my house. The one friend I asked her respectively to never bring around me again. She let her assault me. She still has yet to talk to me. So tonight, I made the decision to leave her. To remind myself that sometimes, people can’t be saved.

One thing that stuck out in my mind today was when Monique was talking about how bad things happen to you in three’s. If you think about it, it makes perfect sense. It’s such a shame to see friends fall apart right in front of your eyes. Knowing you have done all you can to help them and they refuse the help. Tonight, while driving, my boyfriend was telling me that sometimes people do drugs because they like the help that other people give them. I think somehow they like the attention, like the rebellious feeling. He said that people who do no good for society or make any useful productivity in communities or the world or anything really should just die off, since the world is already over populated. I agreed with him. We didn’t mean it in a threatening or wishful sense, because that would be wrong. I would never wish any bad on any certain person, not even Naomi. He also told me how the people who are high on drugs, whether it be for help or attention or addiction or rebellion, can only do something when all their crutches leave them. Such as myself, Lola’s family, and her two boyfriends she once had. When all the help leaves finally, they either continue to do the drugs and kill themselves or finally get up and change. I fear for the result of Lola’s life. I can only pray and wish her the best.

My heart got broken tonight by a best friend, a soul I thought was so beautiful and so real and so permanent to mine. Someone I considered my twin and part of my family. Someone I told her I would kill anyone for. You know what I mean when you read this and all the emotions you feel for your very, best, best friend come to your mind. There is no worse feeling. It’s the most disappointing thing to be left in dust. To have drugs chosen over your friendship. To not be cool enough because you’re sober and smart and happy. It makes you wonder, how did it ever get this far?

Life is what you make it. For every action, there is an equal reaction. It’s true. Karma is only a bitch if you are. Karma is real. Respect is necessary. I lost a best friend tonight, who lost me as well. Only I think she will suffer more from it. It makes me feel stronger to have great support by my side. It reassures me that I shouldn’t have to be taken advantage of or underestimated. I hope they can live a better life for themselves. But I just wanted to get all of that out. I am drained, heartbroken, and burning tonight.

I am going to bed now with this amazing boy who saved me tonight. Because without him, I would have ended up in the hospital, probably with the girl I faced. So, that’s all for tonight. I will be enjoying the next two days camping.

goodnight<3

First Dream Analysis!

Current Location: The Big Red Couch
Current Mood: surprised/floored
Current Music: Lupe Fiasco – Fighter

I just fell asleep on my couch while I was writing in my diary. I have been seeing this boy who is utterly amazing. One Saturday night when I was sleeping at his house, he told me, “I Love you.”
We all know what those words feel like when we hear them for the first time. My brain vibrated the way it does when I was frying off acid (which is indeed one of the best feelings in the world, it’s the feeling you get before you start to hallucinate) which is exactly what I love about it. My body tingled from my scalp to the tips of my toes and every space in between. He said it looked like I was going to cry, but it’s because my face went numb and couldn’t hold an expression. My mouth was open, I was smiling. I haven’t had these emotions for over four years. I never thought I would feel about someone they way I do about him. He said it didn’t matter whether I said it back or not, because he knew I felt it. And I did. I felt it before he ever had to say it. I’m glad he said it first.
As amazing as it is, it is also the most terrifying thing to do. To use the word without throwing it around. To use it in all seriousness. He is a lot stronger than I am, and probably a lot better at this than I am. But I feel it and I love it. I love him and care about him more than I should. More than we both should. But there has never been any rules on time limits.

So tonight, I had this dream, at the beginning I thought it was a nightmare. It was one of the scariest dreams. I don’t remember the last time I was dreaming and thought to myself, “I’m fucking scared right now.” I don’t have nightmares. I always have good dreams. If not good, they are only weird and unusual.
So here is goes:

I was with a little girl and a little boy playing on a playground. It seemed bright and sunny outside, but there were glorious, dark clouds coming in from the east. The little girl and boy were close, and playing tag. He was chasing her and she was smiling. He tagged her a little too hard and she fell, breaking both wrists on the spot. She was more angry and emotionless than letting tears spill down her face; I remember holding her and comforting her. The little boy ran away and she just stared softly at him as he never turned his head back to look at her.
It flash forwarded to a scene with me, my current age, biking home. I bike everywhere in real life, so the fact that I couldn’t keep my balance on my bike now was disturbingly disappointing. Every time I got up, I tipped over. I couldn’t peddle right and I couldn’t manage the balance between the tires and my own ass on the seat.
“No, no, no! Please don’t do this bike!” I screamed as I tumbled down, to the right where broken cement fell 4 feet beneath me. Only four feet down and yet you couldn’t see the bottom. The fact I couldn’t see the bottom scared me more than the act of falling and scraping or breaking anything. As I fell, I wrapped my feet around the frame of my Trek mountain bike to keep it from going into the bottomless pit; grabbing a skull sized boulder of cement to lift my body back up, thanking God for the strong arms I have. Sweat ran down my face as I moaned and panted my way out of the debris and rubble.
As I came to the surface of the street I saw a black van stopping to the side of the road. The sliding passenger door flew open and two Mexican gentlemen came out and headed straight towards me. Although they gave off a harmless vibe, I couldn’t understand why they were coming towards me. I was untouched from the fall of my bike. I could barely bike away. He walked while I peddled as fast and hard as my body could manage, losing balance and picking myself back up all the way to my house. The big guy behind me managed to keep a solid and stable 3 foot distance to my back. I was panting and fear poured out of my face and my hands could no longer keep the grip on my bike from sweating so profusely.
I threw my bike to the side of my house, not even bothering to put it inside my sun-room. I slammed the door shut behind me, but when I tried to lock my doors, they refused to lock. The big guy sat outside my living room bay window and I closed the curtains. I sat on my house clutching my knees and starting to cry. I dialed Devan’s number with my shaking hands and begged him to please come over because someone was sitting outside of my house and wasn’t leaving. The curtains kept popping open. The unfamiliar face was standing with his back to my window, patiently waiting for something; for me. When the curtains would come open, he would only move his neck backwards to face me in the eye to make sure I was remembering he wasn’t leaving. Not even the shotgun in Devan’s hand scared him off. Devan’s shotgun wouldn’t work against this stranger’s power.
Nothing would work. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to shut it out. It was something about to become apart of my life.

As I analyzed the dream with my aunt, who is extremely sensitive to dreams and the sub-conscious part of the brain, what she said and helped me figure out nearly blew my own brains out of my head. Although it made me feel more secure and safe, I was terrified. Terrified to become cemented to a new feeling; a new lifestyle, after nearly four years of being independent and solitary.

The little girl and the little boy represents the first love I use to have when I was fifteen years old. I was a gymnast and have freakishly strong wrists. I can hold a lot, and when I held his hand, I held it like I never wanted to lose my grip. As if when I would detach our hands, I would lose him forever. After almost two years, he left me and I turned away from boys. Hating them. Hating myself. I built up walls and used guys the way I knew they used girls. We used each other and this lifestyle became comfortable for me, because I never had to worry about the pain from relationships and I still got what I wanted. Pleasure. Only along with pleasure, comes emotions and attachments. It hurt me worse, in the long run. Nobody can be that strong when it comes to fooling your own heart.
Losing my balance on my bike showed me that my life is no longer the same since I started seeing Devan. All of a sudden, we sleep in each others bed’s every night. He lets me take him to work and use his car. I help him with the gas tank. We cook dinners together and invite each other in every event in our lives. He tells me I’m pretty in every aspect of my life and I can’t ever have a frown around him. He has tried to get my attention for the last 9 months and I was oblivious to the fact. I never realized he cared about me longer than I knew what his favorite color was. My whole routine is different. My life has done a 180. After four years of worrying only about myself, I suddenly care about this stranger, so unfamiliar to me… something so new and exciting and, dare I say? Harmless. Which is who the big Mexican guy in my dream represented. Devan. Unfamiliar. Different. Dominant. Calmly aggressive and takes action. Why Mexican? Probably because it’s my heritage and the one thing I could picture and grasp in my imagination.
So who was Devan in my dream? My heart. This boy has unexpectedly filled my heart, and my heart holding the shotgun is my wall. I told myself I wouldn’t let another boy in for any reason. He hasn’t gone anywhere, just like the guy sitting calmly outside of my window. He has been patient. I cried in my dream because I’m secretly terrified. To hurt him and to be hurt by him. They say that everything good comes to an end, but I don’t want us to end.
When I shut the curtains, locked the door, and blasted the shotgun, and nothing happened, it’s because it doesn’t work on him. My conscious knows he’s good for me. My heart knows he is good for me. It would never shut something out that loves me and that couldn’t be beneficial to my life. Devan, in my dream, wasn’t going anywhere, standing outside my window. Just like in real life when he told me he wants to be in my life as long as I will let him.
It is the most amazing and terrifying feeling I have ever felt.

I dreamed out of my sub-conscious worry and through patience and effort and a lot of thought of ability, I have become comfortable with the results. I can’t tell the future, but this dream was definitely a good sign and reassures me that dreams tell you everything you need to know in life. Like when you love something.