Posts from the New BB

I'm all in my feelings tonight. I decided, for an unknown stupid reason, to watch some Frank Ocean videos on Youtube. I like seeing people perform live because though they've probably done it a million times before there's always a chord or note that really hits them. It may be a second, it may be the entire song but there's always a little bit of a real reaction thrown in unconsciously.

Watching Frank perform both a cover of the song he wrote for Beyonce 'I Miss You' and his own 'Thinking 'Bout You' had me not only belting my heart out but feeling heavy hearted. What I feel most is without. Without someone I can confide in. Without someone I can depend on. Without someone I can feel those emotions for.

I am woman hear me roar and all that jazz but it never hurts to have someone ask you how your day was and be truly interested in the response or someone you can share intimacies with (SEX!!! How I miss thee let me count the ways...) because it just feels good to share that with someone.

"I remember, how could I forget?
How you feel?
And though you were my first time
A new feel
It won't ever get old, not in my soul
Not in my spirit, keep it alive
We'll go down this road
'Til it turns from color to black and white

Or do you not think so far ahead? (Ahead)
'Cause I been thinkin' 'bout forever..."

This is the part that always gets me. That fear of being alone forever is so persistent and so concrete sometimes that you convince yourself it's real. You're convinced that this is a real, rationale and logical conclusion you've come to, so when that gets shaken and you realize 'oh it's not a foregone conclusion that i'll live with 20 cats by myself in a run down but paid off 2 bedroom' hearing him say he's thinking about forever, while knowing he's not talking directly to you, is poignant and important.

It's important because we aren't all going to be alone 'forever' some of us will be surprised by the loves we find, some of us will have kids and find a new feel and new love they never thought was possible and some of us may never find a 'one' we may find many 'ones' or just not one significant long term 'one' and that's fine. It's all fine, we'll all find a forever, whatever that situation may be.

Sometimes though you'll be all up in your feelings, feeling without and wanting. So I'll take some Frank Ocean to soothe my fears while I live in that space... At least until morning.

#XD30 Writing Challenge Day 3

She kept saying how they never meant to hurt me. Crying her eyes out as if those tears could resurrect the ghost of our friendship. I hadn't said a word in all the time she took to explain to me how it 'just happened' and THEY didn't expect it or know what to do.

I allowed her to speak because I knew when it got to my turn she wouldn't interrupt. I wanted her to hear every word of what I had to say. But I had no idea what I wanted to say. I had no idea what I was feeling as I watched her crying and try to explain.

As she blubbered on I looked around her apartment and wondered why she opted to let me down easy here. In this space. Her grungy couch which I'd told her to upgrade for years just stared back at me as I tried to avoid making eye contact.

She knew me too well knew what to say to make waver and she was using every trick in the book. "You're more than my friend you're my sister." She knew how that would make my heart flutter, make me not want to lose her as friend-family because she was one of so few that I considered family.

I don't know which emotion to show first. I want to scream for her to shut her lying, betraying ass up but anger was never my due. Indifference is where I shine. She asks me if I have anything to say. I give her the look that let's her know what I have to say she won't want to hear. That shuts her up real quick.

I was staring out her front window when I realized I recognized the car that pulled into her drive way. I almost laughed at the sheer hilarity of the situation. She's begging for forgiveness and he's showing up to... What? Beg for forgiveness too? Or simply offer support? And to whom?

I hear her doorbell ring out and for the fiftieth time since the conversation's start I wonder how long they'd been a they and when did him and I stop truly being an us. She slowly gets up from her chair and ambles towards the door. We can't ignore that doorbell any longer I guess. I shrug my mind's too muddled to think or react appropriately so I'll go with the flow, at the very least this will be interesting.

Knowing that once I'm by myself... I shake my head and the first set of tears away. I can't think of that now. She opens the door and he's standing there, 6ft of nothing but lies and deception. This look on his face is telling me that 1. It's definitely over between us 2. He's a sorry lying ass motherfucker and 3. Please don't kill us.

I sigh and pick my bag up off her kitchen counter. I zipped it shut keeping the secret I'd come to share a secret for now. I pushed passed both of them as they hadn't moved from the door jamb. Waiting for my earthquake is my guess. I'm proud that I didn't give in and tear her apartment to pieces. I'm proud of myself for that.

I feel the sun on my face and the tears start falling. My brain can't stay shut down anymore. No sobs though. Not in front of them, I can't let them have that. "Are you happy?" Comes out of my mouth before I realize what I'm saying.

"Wh-What?" She stutters.

I turn my face up to the sun and close my eyes, I feel it's warmth all the way down to my toes.

I repeated "Are you happy?"

I turn and look at them both. I'd known and loved her longer but he, he was my love. Now they're looking at me as if I just sprouted a new head and a tail.

"I don't know. No. I don't want to lose you but I had to come clean." She answers moving a few inches closer to me.

He never says a word.

I nod once and move towards my car. I don't look back at them.

Posts from the New BB

Apparently the gods of society have deemed it law that if you're fat you MUST be friendly and approachable. Being fat AND unfriendly is a societal no-no because fatness is already a strike against you and you know what they say? 3 strikes and you're sucking face with some douche bag because you're desperate. And fat. Whose deluded notion is it that being fat defines any of my personality traits? I self identify as 'fat bitch' because I'd like it known upfront even before we grudgingly say "good morning" that I'm someone who will tear you to pieces despite the 'fat and friendly' tag you probably labeled me with upon our first meeting. Actually who am I kidding? I'm more than likely to say 'please and thank you' than spit in your face when you cut me off in conversation, even though I'd be justified.

There are tons of 'rules' we fatties have to live by in order to fit in to the size 10 world. Acceptable fat, thick versus fat, hour glass figure versus pear shape versus everything else... I could go on forever. Fuck that. I fit in a world that I've created for myself. Albeit not very easily because almost everything is made for the size 10 and under frame and at an ample size 20/22 I've had to create my own space to survive. I won't even front and say I'm not a pleasant plump person because I am, I'm the nice one. Always have been and I've always been fat but the two don't prove or disprove the other. People tend to try to force you into a particular role because once you're there then they can control their interactions with you and can create appropriate responses to you it makes it easier for them to relate when they place you into their created mental image.

But who says we have to be what people think we are? When I tell people I love yoga and exercising I can see them scrambling trying to fit this new info into the fat frame of me they've created. I like surprising people but truthfully I couldn't give to fucks about what 99.99999999% of society thinks about me. The people who matter to you, who really matter, take you as is. I don't walk around thinking every skinny person is a bitch based on nothing but their frame. I wait for them to say something bitchy and stupid before I make that judgment, which they do 95% of the time (this may or may not be an accurate or truthful statistic).

So fine I'm pleasant not because I'm fat and feel I need to be but because I'm a nice person. My horoscope description is very accurate it says I'm nice, creative, emotional, withdrawn and not particularly happy with crowds not once is my fat mentioned. I'm a winner for tens of thousands of other irrelevant reasons.

Give me my 20s!

Posts from the New BB

Sometimes you just have to slap some pink lipstick on and go to the supermarket. At least that's what I tell myself when I painted my lips hot pink today.

Getting out of bed today was a struggle but in my mind the bacon and chicken nuggets are a genuine need. I'm thinking about my vacation that arrives on Monday and I know I'd have regretted not getting that bacon.

I'm trying not think too much about all the shit I didn't get done today. I keep harping on the fact that I put this bright pink gloss on my lips for a 10 minute trip to the supermarket. Trying to avoid the truths that this was the least important chore for the day. And definitely not analyzing why my brain justifies this trip as a success when I literally didn't do shit else today. Including but not limited to not bathing, not brushing my teeth, not helping my Mom with the laundry and not working out.

I really, really need my vacation on Monday maybe that'll shake my ass up.

S/N - Oh I'm participating in XD's (thexdexperience.one3six9.com/blog) 30 day writing challenge so here's my first foray. We'll see if it works out. Day 1 down.

Posts from the new BB

That everybody deserves a second chance bullshit has been running through my mind lately.

The truth of it is people fuck up all the time. I can't even begin to count the mistakes I've made in this short lifetime. People fuck up because we're not perfect. The smart thing to do is to learn from these mistakes and try not to fuck up in that particular way again. Sometimes you have to lay your shit bare especially when your fuck up negatively affects other people. You have to bear that weight of asking them to forgive you.

If that were the case and the all the bullshit was laid out on the table for us to sift through and find the truth I'd be willing to put away all the fuckery we've endured over the last year or so in order to have my friend back in my life. That however is not the case.
Continued pretense of life being great can only last for so long before you break. If you'd been real with us you'd have someone there to help when that break happens but that was not your choice. You chose and your choice was not us. That hurts, still, sometimes. Not as often any more. Just a twinge, like a forgotten bruise that accidentally gets bumped reminding you of it's presence.

Several times we've been asked to give a second chance. How can we when you've never asked for it?

Posts from the New BB

I think the lightening and rain just woke me up to read that message. An old friend of mine from school, great person, will be moving to France for work. She sent an email to let everyone know. Even though we haven't spoken in years she sent me an email to let me know.

A dream of mine has always been to get a job in a foreign land. I'm happy for her, very happy, because she is such a great person and her sincerity and kindness and intelligence is what we all want to spread across the world to show that we Jamaicans are more than the few parts shown on international screens.

I'd be lying though if I said I wasn't jealous. I have my own plans for later this year and I had previously considered the programme she's a part of but the resources I'd need to participate in it just aren't there so I've chosen a different path. I've chosen it and have been sending nothing but positive thoughts into the universe hoping against hope that this wish, this dream of mine will come true.

I was sound asleep when the thunder woke me. I don't know if I should take it as a sign that this dream I'm cooking up, this seemingly impossible dream is going to come to fruition but reading her email gave me hope. I don't feel as fucked as I did before. I guess the rains brought me hope to this deserted dream deferred. I'm hoping that's the case. Now it's brought fertile thoughts to my mind and I can't go back to sleep.

Posts from the BB

I've been up since 5:40AM thinking and not thinking about this interview I have today. I forced myself to do some yoga and to eat and to keep my mind as relaxed and as far away from the words job and interview.

The interview's at 3PM and the closer I get to the time, the more nervous I become. I'm just short of real panic. First real panic of the day was trying on the outfit I had picked out and hating it. So I rummaged through my mother's closet for something semi appropriate.

Trying on clothes made me realize that I have indeed lost weight and I have no real interview clothes. So I threw something together, hoping that my stellar personality and intelligence will get me through... Bwahahahaha. I couldn't keep a straight face while typing that. My confidence is shit. My goal right now is to not vomit all over these people.

Job interviews are always stressful, I'm concentrating on some deep breathing exercises to keep me calm and awake. I'm also hoping I can put all the bullshit aside and pull out a stellar performance.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure." - Marian Williamson

How do I save myself?

How do I save myself? Where can I swim, where can I jump? Where does it feel ok? I read that there are portals on earth that transfer to the sun. I wondered seriously if a person could be transferred. I'd die in a nanosecond. What a way to go. Is that the spot where I feel ok?

How do I save myself?

Posts From The New BB

It's hard feeling unlovable. It's hard craving a certain type of love and not being able to source it. It's a difficult life when you imagine the next 5 years and though you see yourself fulfilling some dreams you can't help but notice the emptiness.

Sitting here another summer, another set of dreams, another set of realities that I have to deal with. I'm stuck again. Between feeling feelings and trying to suppress them or let them loose I'm still uncertain. Every year I break down I guess it's that time of year.

I have this uncontrollable need to list my 'I nevers' I never did this, I never did that, I never went here, will I ever? The more I list the more I remember and the longer the list grows. Headache now.

I'm tired of hearing how far I am or how odd I am, how fat and ugly. I'm tired of telling myself all this bullshit that don't mean fuck. No esteem. How does anyone get any? I fake that shit with people I don't care about. Which happens to be 99.9999999999% of my current immediate population. Then I treat the people who mean something like shit. Awesome life.

I'm not DTF. I'm not desperate in any way. I'm alone and lonely and I scream for affection but I don't want to be degraded. I'm looking for someone to fuck me as I cry and have that actually mean something. Sure it might scare the shit out of them. Yet they don't chalk it up to 'bitches being crazy'.

Shit I'm looking at the next 5 years of my life and I can't see the sunshine for the rain.

I can't even grow my fucking fingernails.

Posts from the new BB

I've always hated when people say I listen to 'white people music'. It bothers me that by their standards I have to listen to a certain type of music or laugh at certain jokes, or watch certain programs to be 'black enough'. Well I'm plenty black and I'm damn sure 'black enough' whatever the fuck that may mean.

I refuse to apologize or justify to anyone the things I enjoy doing, the person I enjoy being and the people I enjoy being with. Whether my choices are 'black enough' or I'm 'acting white' is foolish, bigoted speech which frankly should be forever outlawed. Pray tell how does one act white? How is it ever possible for a black person to not  be 'black enough'?

When will we start realizing that who we are is enough? Just enough. Never less than we think and certainly more in most cases but we are enough. Whether I feel connected to 3 Doors Down or Vybz Kartel, whether I speak in proper English or release my patois roots I am more than enough. It's so stupid to ever  judge someone as not 'something' enough by your standards because it's bullshit. Why would your standards be more important than my own? When would your opinion be more valued than my own? Oh let me answer that for you never.

How does my listening to music genres not deemed 'urban' define my existence? I am the daughter of a black people, granddaughter of a black people, great-grand daughter of black people, great-great grand daughter of black people. I will forever be 'black enough' as it is my existence, it is who I am and who I will forever be. If you use material things to prove and disprove who you are then one can argue that you are nothing more than a passing fad. You are nothing and will never be anything. Society has fucked so many of us up.

We are always enough. I am enough and so are you.

Posts from the new BB

I started having panic attacks in high school. The first time I literally thought I was going to die and I did not have any clue what to do. The depression started in my teen years as well, the double whammy almost knocked me out of this game called life. Many years of suicidal thoughts, feelings of inadequacy and emotional upheavals followed where I tried to keep it all a secret.

I only have my grandmother, who raised me, whom I love and I know loves me but the generational gap was too wide and we don't have that connection where I can tell her anything about what's really going on. She's old school traditional too so any psychological issue can be solved by two scoops of church and a handful of Jesus.

My friends did not understand why I would just bust out crying without any preamble or warning and had no clue what to do when I'd have an anxiety attack. I always kept my suicidal thoughts a secret because I felt for sure if I ever told anyone they'd have me institutionalized. My greatest fear is being locked away and felt no one would understand me or my disorders.

I remember I was walking home from work one day and out of the blue I was in it I was literally trapped on the sidewalk. I couldn't go back I couldn't go forward. I was just stuck there and needed help. I called a close friend but she was unavailable. I think I called her 20 times. So I became irrationally angry at her. How dare she not be there to help? So I was terrified out of my mind in the throes of an attack and livid that she wasn't there to help.

Reliving that now and those feelings are just the worst. A few years ago I was having panic attacks almost ever week. I wanted to die. I hoped I didn't live, I thought there is no way people can survive feeling this way. I haven't had a full blown attack in about a year or so, I have little reminders, now and then, that I'm still fucked but I've learned how to get through them and I can 'manage' the small attacks.

I won't even lie and say I don't have thoughts about giving up because I do, sometimes it's daily, most times though I look forward to another day and everyday seems a little better than the last nowadays which is amazing. Even that glimmer of hope is something I never thought I'd have.

Posts from the New BB

I lost some friend-family last year which totally messed me up. It derailed so much of my plans, I literally fell into grieving and could not escape. I was not aware of it a majority of the time until I really evaluated why I was so sad all the time and why I just couldn't find my happiness.

In losing them I lost a part of myself, my childhood officially ended and I was thrust into this newness that I was unfamiliar with and so afraid of. I didn't discover that, though our friendship had died, I was still whole until the latter part of the year. After noticeable weight gain, several depressive episodes, anxiety attacks and suicidal thoughts. To say it was difficult would be an understatement.

I'm better now. Finally able to see some light ahead. Finally pulling my ass out of one of the worst periods of my life. So as I look forward to making plans and seeing those plans through and living my dreams and bringing them to fruition, I finally feel hope.

Hope is such a dangerous emotion. Too much and people become blind and naïve, too little and you're a cynical skeptic. The balance is so difficult. I'm scared shitless about the plans I'm putting in place in the next few months.

Fear grabs hold of me sometimes and makes it difficult to breathe. Through all of that I still have hope. Enough that I'm as equally excited as I am fearful that it will all be ok and I will be ok and just enough to still give me that edge that ensures that I prepare myself for whatever success and failure will surely come my way in the next months.

I'm hopeful and I'm going for it. Fuck that YOLO bullshit, I'm going for it because to not is to have wasted every good grade I've ever received, every minute of my Mother's worry about feeding us, every hour of study I ever did. My Mom's hope for me has always been for me to be happy if I don't go for it I'd disappoint her and myself.

Above all else I'm doing it all for me because this is who I am and what I want and I don't want to waste another second of this amazing life being anyone but me.

Posts from the new BB

Reconnecting. There's nothing more eye opening than reconnecting with someone after a few months or years and realizing how much you've changed or how much the person's changed.

You kind of expect them to be the same or at least a little piece of you expects that. Depending on how the connection ended in the first place you may wish and hope the person has changed.

Initially it's awkward, whatever groove you had developed before is never the same. In a weird way you'll grieve the loss of that. This part of you and them has died and you'll miss it, you'll be sad. You may never recover that groove you may no longer be as close friends as you were before or the opposite e may be true. Your bond may be stronger than it ever was before.

I've always argued that friendships and romantic relationships have the same tenets, the same issues, take the same amount of work and can cause irrevocable damage if the end or get broken. My friends have been my family in the absence of such in my life and those relationships have been some of the most rewarding, most painful, most amazing experiences of my life.

We've grown apart, we've grown together, we're growing up.

Posts from new BB

I may not look it but I am competitive type of bitch. I'll work my ass off to do good especially at things I'm interested in and passionate about. I'll go without sleep, I'll do double triple overtime to ensure that what I produce not only achieves the standard but surpasses it. But…here's that bitch word but. Once I lose interest I don't give a fuck about it. I don't even give it a second glance. Unfortunately this is what's happening to me at my job. I'm over my current position. Like so far over it I'm flying to the fucking moon. As I'm over it there's nothing in it that captivates me at all. In fact I'm just working for the paycheck because other than that this job holds no mystique for me at all. I wont go so far as to say I hate it but it doesn't stimulate me intellectually at all.

 

This and only this can explain the abysmal score (in my eyes) that I received for the last observatory period. Usually my score exceeds expectation without much effort from me but as I have placed even less effort than normal my score is simply an achieved. UGHHHHHH!!!!!! Yes of course it's my fault. I understand that without any effort my score will fall but I just feel less and less enamored with the position than ever. I have been searching and submitting my resume for other positions with no luck. Instead what I will do is re-invigorate myself and put more effort into this position. I don't want to get fired so I'm going to pump it up.

 

My plans depend on me having a job where I can make a nice enough living that will allow me to save to make those plans come to fruition so I've got to do better. I guess starting today I will be.

Maybe I am a Gryffindor after all.

If all things go as planned *crosses fingers & prays* I will be embarking on a different path in my life by September of next year. I'm scared out of my mind. Genuinely scared that I'll fail but without having tried that's an automatic fail.

I never saw my path, which ironically was staring me in the face, until fairly recently. I thought I knew what I wanted to do and be but passions change and I need to start living my true passion now as I have no idea how much longer I have left.

Over the past few week's I've felt so alone and lonely. I haven't been living for myself and as I have been slowly opening my eyes over the last few years I am starting to see the light. I have needs and wants and dreams that I'm leaving unfulfilled because of what I deem as my responsibility to others. But if I continue this way I will wither away having given my life away. That's not what I want for myself and that's not what the people who love me want for me.

I'm trying to snatch those dreams while I still can. It matters to me that I live a full life, that I find true love and get my heart broken, that I bet it all on black win big and hopefully lose small but if I lose big I hope I leave with lessons that will propel me into the next big score. I'll surely fall, no one is ever 100% accurate at life, I will surely fall and fail but I hope I have the strength to get back up every time.

So I'm taking a new path, a path that will surely lead me into places I've never been and people who will both fascinate and infuriate me and yes I'm scared but my excitement is beyond capacity so much so that I'm pushing past my fears, using my fear instead to make sure I'm prepared for what may lay ahead. I guess this is bravery? Maybe I am a Gryffindor after all.

Posts from the new BB

I used to buy a burger and soda from Burger King almost every Friday in high school. We were definitely living in the poor bracket. My Mom was the only source of income and though my parents tried sometimes, often and in most instances we didn't get help from them. Those who have lived at this level and lower know how much that fucks with you. You find many outlets to express your frustration.

Lots of creative and expressive people rise from the ghetto. This upbringing made me both unhappy and creative. I vowed to never be there ever again and I would read anything I could put my hands on so that I could escape. So that I could live someone else's dream and life. I wanted to be anyone but myself and anywhere but where I was.

So every Friday what money I had saved and not used to buy new books I would go to Burger King and buy the tiniest of burgers and a soda and I'd go home and savor it. I would be so happy in that moment because I felt like everyone else. I felt normal. It didn't matter that we didn't get running water til I was high school or that we didn't have in door plumbing. I was just like any other kid who could afford to eat a burger.

We all have these moments and things we use to make ourselves feel better. This memory makes me sad sometimes and makes me really think about all the other kids who don't even have that even this simple a dream. Makes me want to scream for those, especially kids, who have less than I had. Who don't have a burger on Fridays to look forward to, it can make one go crazy.

I wonder what I can do to ease that even for one child.

Posts from new BB

I miss watching HBO's Def Poetry Jam with my friend on Fridays. Miss sitting as close to the TV as possible with closed caption on so I could hear and see every word. We would watch together and discuss afterwards. The good, the hilarious and the bad. We would discuss the feelings they brought up and what had inexplicably change within us from the art we had witnessed.

I remember we talked about the overwhelming love we felt for our mothers one night and the struggles and hardships they went through but would never show to us. I declared that there was nothing I would not do for her and I cried for her. For her youth, for her son, my father, for the opportunities an chances missed and gained. I cried so hard for her. In that moment I cried and I healed and we cried together and it was good.

I miss being this with my friend. I miss knowing who we were together. I miss the nights spent laughing and prophesizing and building plans for the everything we would do together. I miss our vibe together that we were so funny and fun together.

I miss who I once was sometimes. As fucked up as she was the pain was all masked by a kind of forced joy. As flawed as I now realize she was she had a 'fuck it all' attitude that I just don't partake in now. Right now the joy I feel is different, I'm different. My happiness is not a mask for deeper more unhealthy emotions, but I do miss the abandon of youth.

I miss that me sometimes. Miss her ease of laughter and lack of cynicism. Her total lack of awareness, her naivete. Before life beat that shit out of me I used to dream the dreamers dreams. Grandiose plans for my life and my future. Sure I didn't have a clue what or who I wanted to be but that didn't stop me from flinging things out like a 7 year old. 'I wanna be a lawyer, no a therapist, no I wanna be an air force ranger." Ha. I was fucking hilarious. I still dream and I dream big but my dreams have purpose and power now. More structured but still free. I dream the grown up dreamers dreams.

I've found that since we all change and become more of ourselves people tend to put down their old selves never admitting to liking who they were because who they were totally contradicts who they are now. I look back fondly with no regrets and encourage everyone to do the same.

I've never been more clear about who I am today and I figure tomorrow will bring even more clarity. Look back and reminisce but don't regret that old self and that old self's choices. There's nothing you can do to change the past, look back and try to find the lessons hidden within these memories. Learn from what the you back then is trying to teach. Pay attention to yourself.

Blurb from the new BB

My earliest memory is waddling into the shower where my father was bathing. I remember it was an outside shower and I remember feeling curious thinking 'What's this? What's that noise?' I don't remember seeing him naked but I remember the sun on my face and opening the door but I don't remember seeing anything. I also remember everyone laughing. It's one of my fondest.

Posts from the BB

I'll be 26 years old in 24 hours. Amazing shit to think about because I still vividly remember walking to Primary school. I've technically been an adult for 8 years now. That's hilarious to me because I still feel like a kid.

I may have my moments where I think "Damn I'm getting older..." but I definitely appreciate the fact that I am able to get older. That I am able to experience new things and people without trepidation. I turn 26 in a few hours and I'm happy about it.

Am I where I want to be at 26? No. Do I still have weak moments that make me question my life and my choices? Yup. Growing older is not easy. Living your life is simultaneously the easiest and the most difficult thing in existence. I can't say I'm happy but I'm not unhappy either.

My prayers are filled with keeping my family, my Momma safe and healthy and wishes for continued blessings. I've been blessed to live these last 26 years as tsagrednerp. Here's to another 26 and beyond.

Posts from the new BB

I'm terribly self absorbed. I like to analyze my feelings, look into myself and try to work on those issues within that prevent me from getting to happy. This tends to sometimes bar me from reaching out to those closest to me to find out what may be happening in their lives.

Five times out of 10 I will ask usually I wait for you to tell me. Hate forcing people to share when they aren't ready to. This I've found is something that has changed as I've grown. When I was younger I was all about putting me last because that's what I felt my position was. That mind set has definitely changed. Apart from my Mom, my happiness comes first. My sanity comes first. It has to or I will never survive.

This doesn't mean that I don't care about people or refuse to aid or assist in any way I can. It just means that I can still help, I can still be there for the ones I love while keeping a piece of me for me. I find that a lot of people either throw there all into someone, shit I've been guilty of, or they don't give a fuck about people. It's a crazy balance that you have to find for your own life.

It's an interesting journey trying to figure out who you are as a single entity. It's also misguided to think you can really know who exactly you are being really young. Youth is meant to be enjoyed and mistakes are meant to be made. We discover as we go along. The person you think you are now is not the same person you're going to know in 5 years.

It's a difficult thing, this growing up. People often use the term to mean becoming more responsible. Fuck responsibility. Growing up is just getting older. There is no average age for anyone to stop learning things or developing their personality.

Life is too fucking short to live by anyone else's rules and you have to pay attention or you will miss it.

In short - love yourself first, love others and never stop learning.