Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!

I hate everyone. That needs to stop.

The other night, I slept next to my friend, because we'd been up all night rehearsing a dance piece-- and I had the worst nightmare about her. She became Mr. Hyde (or whichever the nasty one is, Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde) and I woke up so freaked out about it that I just had to get out of there.

...That always happens with me. I think people are truly out to get me; that they've got agendas.

I hate being paranoid!

I think I just need to get over the fact that I made really awful friends in the past who, one by one, fucked me over (for lack of a better term, sorry) and accept that it was my fault for not seeing it coming. That way, I can take responsibility and realize that now I'm wiser (haha, I hope!).

Now, my friend in the city wants to get an apartment with me this summer (Central Park view for only $1000 - $1200 a month!!!!!!!!!!!!) but it's going to cost more than my commute to Armani offices and my mom just doesn't want that at all. I don't blame her. My friend in the city can be pretty... well... adventurous to say the least-- I mean, she's not a whore or anything like that, she's just very extreme with everything. And she's got awful taste in men. At least she knows fashion. And she's fun. But, fun can be overrated, especially when I want to be more calm and centered--especially with my Armani internship!

...but I do keep thinking that it's just 'cause I don't like her lololol

See?

In other news, I discovered through research that chiropractic adjustments can cause strokes in younger individuals, too much alcohol mixed with medication can cause seizures (all these things I just never seem to think about in the moment), and... there's that cute boy in the village bookstore who I never went back to see...

Bet he misses me. Oh well. He'll have to fight against the city boys this summer, won't he? :)

p.s. my tattoo is healing. my grandparents were oddly OK with it. Maybe it's 'cause they're just too cool, being Colombian and everything. It's funny, I told my nana who I went and got it with, and she immediately yelled, "The drunken girl with the tattoo on the inside of her lip!" and I said, "yes." Her eyes burned with disapproval after that. My nana forgets nothing I tell her, does she?

Very weird! I thought I'd never change my mind about this one person. It's like I had to pull myself out of quicksand (that's not even possible, right? ah well, in my head it is). But, alas, now I see things more for what they really are:

You weren't malicious or powerful, or even strong enough to touch my heart. You were just lame. LAME, LAME, LAME. Yes, lame even between your legs, and you think I fell for all your lies and excuses. You're not alone because you're better than anyone else, you're alone 'cause you're just a skinny, ugly pothead who takes everything too seriously and can't be his own man. Get over yourself. You're no demon, you're no Lucifer. You think you're so hot? I finally see through you. Now I know why you don't have friends except for, like, three delusion losers and one wacko prostitute.

And me? I fell for it. I fell for the whole craziness of it; I thought you were unique and special. Good acting on your part! You're just messed up and you've got no balls to truly care about anyone. This is all my doing; this was my chaotic side running circles around you trying to get something. You've got nothing--nothing but the dirty resin you like to smoke. Smoke away your dreams, you fool. I've got so many better things to do.

But, in the end... thanks. Thanks for not trying. Thanks for not caring at all. Thanks for taking advantage of me, and if anything, turning the tables and calling me manipulative. Thanks for stringing me along only for me to find out you're just a stupid, frightened little boy who takes only what he can get when he wants it. If it had not been for you being such a pathetic, pretentious asshole, I NEVER would have realized so much about myself and my worth. So, I don't regret you at all. Consider that my final gift to you, in place of that kiss you wanted.

<3

K, AVOIDING ALL H.W.

I had the worst date in the world -- no, that's wrong.

There are worse dates!

But, anyway, I had a really bad date the other night with this loser.

( rant rant )

I feel majorly fucked up.

My head seems to always be in a thousand different places.

I don't want to do my marketing 131 paper!!!!1111

I don't. It's a waste of time. I hate marketing; I'm not even in marketing, I'm a public relations major!

I have to write a 15 page paper on the medical lab industry and then design 4 ads for Quest Diagnostics.

I DON'T WANT TO MAKE ADS. I'm not good at this shit! I hate it, I hate commercials, I hate advertisements, I think it brainwashes us to the enth degree.

...and it's all about making profit.

My paper last term for Mkt 101 was harder, yes. But I was in a better frame of my mind! I wasn't crazy and insane like I am this semester.

I hate this. What's wrong with me??????????????????

I need a cigarette.

FUCK.

Let's talk about boys.

Boys suck.

Hard.

Let's talk about sex.

Sex is overrated.

Big time.

Let's talk about love.

...

. . .

yeah.

Augustine of Hippo has beautiful things to say about love of God in his Confessions:
Then he asks, "where can I find you, God?":

(Silly us who fall for that.)

The temptation is outrageous. It's like trying to resist creamy strawberry ice cream with chocolate crunchies, rainbow sprinkles, sliced bananas and a big dollop of whipped cream with a candied cherry on top and choosing, instead, a granola bar.

It makes me want to cry.

Those wide-eyed, magical boys that float to you with their luggage of trouble and their heads stuffed with psychological disorders, but who are so beautiful and irresistible in their smiles, their hair and their lips against yours...

:'(

But, in the end, I, me, yo will have to settle with a good ol' straight-edge, morally correct, Christian business-man who makes $100k a year, and who probably won't like to dance/smoke/drink, will listen to Billy Joel and have a tummy.

...because he will (somehow) make me truly happy.

*crawls into a corner and hides*

One thing I've noticed about perspectives is this:

Everyone is wrong.

But, not wrong in the same respect. In other words, if you say carrots are orange and I say they're purple and everyone else says they're purple but they really are orange, then the others and me are wrong "in the same respect."

I'm talking about the fact that if I say they're purple, Harry says they're green and Lisa says they're blue.

...and those who say orange are seen as crazy just as much as those who see blue say I'm crazy about purple.

Because the carrot really isn't orange, you know.

^_^

No, I'm not high on anything. Yeah, I know it's "Matrix" thinking.

But, I believe the theory that absolutely everything is up to you.

Sucks to think that way, don't it? 'Cause then you've got no one to blame!

News: I got a 78 on my mysticism midterm and a 77 in advertising. WTF.

Now, I can rant and rave and make excuses as to why it wasn't fair or how it sucks that I suck or some other such things!

But, the truth remains: 77 and 78.

Could've been two 100s. The advertising could have even been 108.

Well.. hey, while I'm at it, I could've been president of student government, valedictorian of my high school, top editor of the school paper, national prize winner of X award for biochemistry!

Why wasn't I?

Idk, I didn't want those things. I promise you I didn't!

'Cause if I had, I would have gotten those things. There's nothing out of reach.

So, I didn't want the two 100s. Oh well.

Don't get me wrong, I'm no loser. This year I worked with Seekrit Service on one of the most historical events in American history at my school. I write for the University newsletter, newspaper, do charity work, blah blah, my average is about a 3.8 (...though now that'll probably drop.)

(Note how I don't refrain from self-advertising. It's to feed my insecurities)

So, yeah I can get up there but I'm never good enough you know?

It's quite sad the way I think.

In other news: Sarah Palin was prank phone called into thinking she was speaking with Nicholas Sarkozy.

If I were as stressed as her, I would start believing the prank phone calls too. I'm surprised the woman hasn't collapsed by now.

...and they say she's incompetent.

I realized I've never actually written a post. Interesting. I used to have a xanga where I'd write all my thoughts and feelings once... but I then realized it was kind of silly to pour my heart out to the internet where anyone could read.

But, I should tell you... it's cathardic. Sometimes I want to scream and yell and tear my hair out because I believe no one hears what I have to say, nor cares.

Online journals help you do that.

I'd like to yell about how fragmented we all are! I'm talking to a computer! I want a face, I want a voice, I want to sense a person's reaction, smell them, feel their touch.

I don't really talk to people much. I used to. I used to be the prettiest, most popular girl anyone knew. All the guys liked me, wherever I went (haha, even the girls!). I always had people around me, and people embracing me and smiling, laughing at what I had to say and complimenting me on my sweetness and charm.

That seems to have gone. And I'm still so young. I'm only 20! Ten years ago I was ten.

What happened?

...I met the wrong person. I met someone who longed to suck the life out of me subtly, slowly.

And I let that person kill me! I let him into my head and my heart; let his words simmer in my brain until I began to believe that all those friendly faces around me, all the love and light I received from others... was false. It was an agenda. "Everybody's got an agenda. That's why I don't trust anyone."

At first I thought this person was crazy. But, then, my pride took over and suddenly it felt good to think that others were selfish and only wanted something from me for themselves.

I became calculating and distant. Suddenly, I challenged people, testing their intentions.

I relied on Mr. Self-destruct, who encouraged me to "be my best person" and do whatever was right for me and me alone.

Now, it sounds like I was pretty stupid to fall for all this and not realize the pettiness of these thoughts. But, it was so subtle, so deceiving, and so tempting. It's like giving your worst fears and paranoia all the credit they want and puffing yourself up to be "filled with truth and honest intentions."

Sheep in wolf's clothes.

Needless to say, here I am. Alone, afraid, beaten by my own demons, and reactionary to every little contact I have with anyone.

That person? I broke away from him to save my sanity. Then I tried to help him see his own behavior. He turned on me, and worked for months on distancing himself from me. I obviously was of no use to him anymore if I didn't want to act his protege. I meant nothing more than that to him.

But the poison remained.

So, every day it hurts to wake up and know I have to face a world full of people who want to hurt me. You'd never think so if you met me. I still try and pretend I'm the happy, loving person I was... the person who really cared and wanted to give people chances. But, it's a shell. I think people see through me after a bit. That's why I don't have anyone really.

Who would want to talk to me.. me who trusts no one and expects agendas, lies, and selfishness from others?

...

It can get better. It will get better. I don't know how. But, if I lose faith?

If I lose faith, I lose everything. I won't have reason to do anything. I won't let that happen.

Hear this:

Miracles can happen, even if they seem like they never can. My worst enemy is my own head. My head doesn't want me to find love or happiness. I want it. I want freedom, mercy, and love.

I'm gonna find it. NO MATTER WHAT!