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Jan. 3rd, 2014


To finally be at ease after the anxiety of school is a masochistic victory. I am feeling my mind sinking into old habits, feeling like a regression into thought processes I've come a long way to undo. Yet, I almost miss that silly misery. My silly pinheaded thoughts from 3 years ago are all returning, but I've got a new set of eyes to behold them with. I am proud to say I've written off a lot of my trivial self-involved thoughts. But still, I feel as if I have confidence and self-absorbed confused with another. One does not equal the other.

A lot of my journeys are past due as far as the proportion to the expected age goes. But there is no one way to encounter obstacles in life. There is no "right order". "Late bloomer" is an easy way to put things. I have always been that way, as far as social encounters and in physical senses of fashion. I am happy to have made the progress that I have.

I need to start believing people when they say, "You've come a long way."

I am happy to be free of the monotony of school, and am now reaching out for whatever is out there. I like the concrete logic of Business, and I'm happy to try new things. Most of all, I am glad I am at peace. I didn't realize how anxious I really was until I came back home after completing my courses. I was electrified before with constant goosebumps and anxiety attacks that were seconds long with a passing thought. I can finally sleep wholly and peacefully again. I don't have to fight to sleep.

Still, my recent new experiences make me understand I was truly missing out on the simpler things in life: Human Contact. I now recognize the comfort of not sleeping alone, of constant contact, of casual contact. Touch has always eluded me, either my fear of not touching correctly or of it altogether. I'm afraid of less things as life goes on. I'm coming home to parts of my past that used to scare me and able to conquer them with flying colors. I have grown. I have changed.

I love what I've lost and what I've gained. I am so grateful I have the gift of not getting angry so easily. It is so hard for me to hold a grudge. I have always loved those things about myself. They are certainly coming in handy now. But the damage is not a big deal, and I can confidently say it is because I have been through worse. I paid dearly for the growth I've yielded during my time away.

My new years resolution? Get a new place. My place. But not in Orlando or somewhere awful. I want a place in South Florida. I tried my venture far away and got nothing rooted there, so I am back to my roots where I like to be. Where I belong.

If that makes me pathetic, fine. I don't care anymore. I am glad I at least know the coordinates of where I am at my happiest. I must be true to myself and do what truly fulfills me. Delight fills me as I look forward. I'm ready for someone. I'm ready to be a grown up in ways that used to scare me. I am filled with hope again. Things aren't so bad.

It's going to be a great year. I will make it so. Bring it on, 2014.


Aug. 26th, 2013

HOW BIZARRE, But I like it...

Guess it is possible to run into heart shaped situations the old fashioned way! Without dating sites, awkward messages, and misleading profile pictures. When a guy meets a girl through a mutual friend. This friend was an AMAZING wingman. Like, amazing. Numbers were indirectly exchanged. And yes, I bit first. I texted first. We met again to watch the guy do his music thing. He's a drummer, a very talented musician. Known as the infinitely nice guy among the mutual friend and more.. The best part? HE'S NOT AN ASSHOLE. He's sweet, corny, loves stupid comedy, and is very sweet. He's awkward, but that's never stopped me before. He's hardcore italian.. To the point that I can call him Guido. Never really knew a full-hearted italian other than Dane, but I don't really count him because..ewwwwww. Anyway, it's been going so classy, so slow, and so sweet. He hasn't even kissed me yet. Only limited hugs and sitting close to me. He'll scoot closer when I'm around, seek me out and keep me company over his peers. He has more friends than me, but I don't care. He has the same frame as Adam, which is hilarious. He shares many of the same components as a fictional character. His fave animal is a fox, which was the animal component of the significant other of a character of mine. Even shares the same name... Charles. I have come to call him Charlie fondly.. and he lets me get away with it. I like it. Shit, I like him. And it's so innocent, so chill, and so adorable!

He can draw, has two sisters, and comes from Naples. Ohio before that, which is odd. Buuut whatevs. He's got a full head of hair which is SUCH a fucking plus it hurts. Not much of a bum, but I've dealt with that before and have had no problem. He has these deceptive dark blue eyes, which I didn't even realize were blue until way later. He doesn't snore, which is nice. Nor does he move around a lot in his sleep. He has an adorable face that reminds me of a warm creature. He's adorable, timid, but still forward when it counts. I like the amount of flirty he's been. He's trying so hard to prevent things from getting uncomfortable. I love how slow we are being.

My hormonal and aching body wants to speed things up, but this is the wiser choice. We even told each other we fancied one another, which I also initiated. But the timing has been all too beautifully eerie, since about the time I confessed was the time he was going to. It's a good thing, to be on the same page with somebody on a romantic level. I am so giddy about this whole thing.

With how scattered this entry is, it is clear I'm infatuated. I'm so proud of myself, and excited for things to come. Is he a flower sort of guy? I know he's filled with sweet words and is delightfully laid back. I got a crush. Okay, more than a crush. A like? I don't know. Bad pointers are that he lives in a dormitory on campus, and that he's... well... young. Same age as my last, Kristian, but he turns 21 on HALLOWEEN. OH YEAH, HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY IS ON HALLOWEEN. :DDDDDD

I'm so excited that he's creative, not sarcastic, and seems to be a generally harmless guy. I'll finally get to see what the nice guy craze is all about. This is genuinely exciting.

Anywho, my excited self is off to expect my friend. Celebrating my re-entry back into the workforce. Today is a good day!! :D

-Smitten Moof-

Jan. 29th, 2013

It's the period. I swear to god, it is.

Some girls are bitches. Some girls cry on a dime. Some girls are aggressive and nags. I am insecure like hell. And have a tendency to be moody.  VERY MOODY. This is my last day bleeding, about, and.. jesus. Every little tease and joke hurt. I take them literally, seriously. No matter how much I know it's a joke.. I get hurt by it.

I'm not very good at insulting others. I laugh at disses, I love them on the outside looking in. But whenever I let loose and begin..I go too far. I never know what's "too much". So.. I don't do it. Because unlike most kids in my age group of 24-30 year olds. I still have this annoying thing called guilt. GUILT. GUILT.

I feel bad at the first sign of wrongdoing. I feel bad very easily when I say or do things. So here I am, wanting to cry because of how "shitty" my boyfriend can be with his obvious-jokes and banter... And I don't know what to do. Harmless diss contests are never victories for me. I don't think that way. I do, actually, but I don't say things out loud. Because I am mean, not rude. I actually think very horrible things very easily. I am an ugly person, under all my niceness. Because I am made up of extremes, never middles. Never mediums. 

Blehhhh why do I want to cry right now? Oh yeah. Period. Stupid lady-bleeds...

I want nothing more than to find a quiet place and just cry huddled against a wall. BUH.


Jan. 24th, 2013

Nothing but giddy.

( You are about to view content that may only be appropriate for adults. )

Dec. 10th, 2012

Livejournal's can never be "too bored" to deal with this.

I have friends that tire of hearing me rant and ramble, and even the trusted ears that I keep close to me grow weary of my banter. But here, I can post this. I can express it now. For me to look upon for later.

Too perfect. Perfect. That is what he is. A new he, since that's how dating works, but the one that blows all the others out of the water. There's nothing that turns me off about him. Even his slight imperfections come to me as a comfort. It reminds me that he is just human. A human that I can enjoy in ways that are so simple and hard to convey. I just feel that those around me grow bored of me easily when I start talking about me. And when I start talking about him, primarily.

God. Good lord. Small features I fixate upon are met to a tee on every front. His laugh is gorgeous, his looks are phenomenal, his eyes are fantastic. His smell is godly. Fantastic rear end. Visible, much? Oh, but it gets better. What's inside is just as good as what is inside. Even better, there is a mutual attraction. How it worked out this way is something I don't fixate upon, but am thankful for.
Many frustrations have come and gone, with a fatal flaw to weigh me down and make me walk away. And there is a flaw beyond this. Which is the same fucking problem. DISTANCE. But I don't care. I am too selfish. It feels too good right now to be rational and walk away now. I should, I know that, but I will not. I don't want to. He's just that worth it. He's fun, hilarious, and just the right amount of debonair to make my eyes roll to the back of my head in bliss. Cannot handle it. But I want to. And I will.

So much perfect. Almost too big to fit in this livejournal. Surely, I will not post it all in this post, but it will come up. His kisses are spontaneous and hungry, but can be gentle and sensual. He touches me the right way, just by caresses and how he maneuvers his hand around me. Very new, and lovely. I love it so much.

But I am secretly wounded that I know that there is a negative attitude towards me from an ex. Sure, it's mutual, but nobody likes to hear that they sucked. No matter how even that makes the score.

I keep thinking it's a dream. Or maybe it's a well designed nightmare. All I know is that I want more. And more. And more. The greed wants to take me away from myself. Fuck reserve, fuck rationality. I am going to let it. I want to be happy. And I am gaining happiness from this... I love it.

I got my lotus flower necklace from Wyatt's mom. I LOVE IT. And thanks to my tipsy brain, this will be a fickle, but sincere post.-M
 Can't win them all.


Dec. 5th, 2012

Good god. WTF?

I don't think I've ever really felt like this about someone. I just.. want to see them. Be with them. Listen to them read names off of a phonebook. Anything. I miss him very much, and I know it's too soon to unload all this crazy on him all at once. They'll come out as confessions, which I am fine with. I just.. can't believe how much I like this guy..

It drives me mad. Literally. This is like no other thing I've felt. The rush is pure, and complete. It's mutual, my god.. that's a first. I am beside
myself that it has worked out in my favor, and enjoy so much about it. His face fills my daydream, his laughs are at the epicenter of my smiles. I just.. am filled with so much. I want to give him so much more. Not just sexually. Not at all, in fact.. I hate saying this since this is too bold to put out on the internet for my taste, but.. I think there's a chance we're going to make love. Not fuck, not have sex. The intimate portion. The actual thing I've never experienced.

His tenderness gets me drunk, and his way with handling my skin makes me warm in the cheeks. There were no awkward collisions, just smooth and effortless accuracy at every step of the way. And this is a big deal that he'll never understand. I called him. I AM USUALLY TERRIFIED OF DOING THIS. I found the courage to call him. It.. was something I loved to do. I was scared, hoping he wasn't busy or in the middle of a final. I also realized this is the first man I'm seeing who is also a college student. Super strange and sad. 

The other man that was kind of sort of competing with him was just.. awful. And he ruined it by blatantly asking for oral the other day out of nowhere and not even realizing he had never re-scheduled a movie date to see Wreck it Ralph. Not the kind of man that I want, he's dense. And I have had enough of clueless men. I have been blunt. I have been honest. I have been nothing but bold lately to make sure he gets it all. He's getting everything. And I don't know what to do. He's not motivating me or distracting me from my finals. He relieves my anxiety. He makes me laugh, and smile and so filled with joy when he laughs. 

He hasn't told me enough things that he likes about me. Sadly, nothing too specific. Lips, hair, and being gorgeous. Yes, I love these things, but my greed is too great. I was starved of this for 4 years, and longer after that. I just.. I just want so much and finally got the courage to ask for it. To require it. To feel it. For it to actually be there. How badly I want him is unable to be written, but it's only been two dates. I know we're seeing each other, that much is true. But we're not an item. I really wish I was his girlfriend. I get queezy about it, but the good kind that has me dizzy and happy. I can't even imagine it. Oh wait, yes I fucking can.

But yeah. I'm scared. He's in fort lauderdale. RIGHT BY MY FUCKING HOUSE. God, why do you love and hate me so much? Quite a sense of humor you have there..


Nov. 20th, 2012

Unhealthy Appetites. "It's just enough."

I want to give myself to someone. It was an accident. I didn't even know it was happening when it was under my nose, every second passing me by adding just one more piece of me to wanting to be given. It was never about attraction, not in the beginning at all. I just wanted to be a good person. But after a while he brought out the better person in me. He sees so much  within me that constantly inspires me.

And his words drive me mad. How he can just say the correct combination to drive me up a wall nearly burning. I'm drugged when he is around. He is open with how he feels and is somehow very classy the entire time when he shows me the rawness of himself. Slowly, he got into my head. Crawling inside with every hug, every twist of his fingers in my hair. Every gaze of his that I could feel. It made me feel like I was a vixen, some sort of goddess. I am trying to make myself feel that way, that's a gimmick of mine, but the man just.. makes it feel true. Isn't that beautiful? I cried when I realized that he made feel so enslaved.

My intentions weren't very pure to begin with, though my means was. I just wanted a 'serve. A pain killer. A man to make me feel good about myself with a text or two. But he became more than that. He reached for me, really reach led into me and found what was meant for a select few. Yes, very much like Indiana Jones. I just feel like I am at his whim, with his knowledge, but with the good mind to not take advantage and "ruin a good thing". I want him so much, but cannot have him. It is always that, the richest of joys given only with the condition of impossibility. Like a tease to a soul.

But enough dramatics. Bottom line, he makes me feel like a woman. He tells me so many nice things all the time with a confident sincerity that makes my knees weak. He is unafraid to say what he feels to me and proudly. He makes me more comfortable with myself, giving me more confidence like a one sided chemical that had no bad side effects.

I was wrong. There is always a side effect. No exceptions. This time, it got turned around. Turned around and torturous with an even diffusion of good and bad fate. It is toxic to me, I know it is bad for me but I must have it. I must have that feeling again. The feeling he makes me feel is like no other.. I thought this shit only happened in shitty romance novels. Again, fate makes me look like a jackass. But I am enslaved by how I feel about him. I don't just want him. I want to give me to him. Because he gave me himself.
I was a chosen one. The one he kept. And not as property, though secretly that drives a part of my desire for him. He made me above them. He made me see I was above them. The truth, the beautiful truth. And I feel like the greatest woman in the world. I supposedly make him a better man by listening to his every word without judgment and with unwavering understanding. I didn't mind at all. It is so easy to give this man anything. 

It's so physical and emotional. He whispers dreams in my ear and tells me that they are only dreams in my head. That reality was what he was telling me everyday. And his lips were secretive, everything just the right amount of bold and modest. A hand lingered here, a kiss to the cheek there, a breath to the neck after a hug. Hidden chess moves that slowly crawl deeper to introduce its toxin to more of you. I do not feel played, or used, or kept. I feel... wanted. I feel appreciated. I feel special. To him.

And I deal with it and bear it until that day where all of it will be gone. It's coming sooner than I want to admit. Life is tragic. In its defense, I did ask for something like this in prayer. Something so unreal and wonderful to happen to me. I just gave an incomplete wish.

Anywho, I'm pretty emptied now of some of the stuff that has been choking me lately. Thanks Livejournal for being a forgotten place I am comfortable enough to post this stuff on.

Feb. 21st, 2012


THAT'S IT. That's why I'm so pissy at her all the time. It's why she's crazy off-the-wall nuts and insecure and rude and harsh! It's because she's open with her feelings.

I, however, am not. I try to be, but I have always been taught to hide. It's unsightly to cry. It's rude to yell. It's too attention-provoking to scream at someone or to be openly angry with them. Somehow, by my mother, I was taught it was best to hide whatever bother I had and deal with them. That was easier, to my mom. It saved a lot of grief, supposedly. 

I have never been able to pinpoint why I had so much anxiety, or so much pent up anger. Or why I have difficulty "letting things go".

Because I was taught to conceal myself as best as can to maintain appearances. 

And now I am confronted with someone who doesn't hide their feelings, confronts others with qualms she has, and remedies things with open discussion. I just have had such difficulty keeping up, and its damn near exhausting not to conceal every little thing.

But that's it. That's the reason. We are really so, so different.

There isn't a measure of quality over here, but I wish I had been taught to be open with my emotions. I now get why.
Nobody really knows the real me. I see my feelings as inconvenient, a burden, and mismatching with my intentions or the situation at hand every time. It's why nobody has anything clear to say about me. I am unclear. Very unclear.

I am hard to read because I had so many pages that leave a distorted story of fragments and fractured plots behind. This isn't something emo, but something I have just learned that make a mess of sense. 

Wow. I think even less of myself as I did before, but at least I'm informed. It's a wonder nobody respects me.



Feb. 10th, 2012

Anger and Ranting, Perhaps a confession.

I'm not sorry. But I have this problem. 

I have noticed that I have an all-or-nothing law with attention. And that more often than not, if my attention is not ENTIRELY focused on the person I'm talking to, I slip out of paying attention without realizing it.
It is annoying to some, offensive to most, but that is how my brain is. It's why I insist on eye contact, and for people to wait for me to finish what I'm doing before I talk to them. I'm a one-thing-at-a-time type. If I try to do too many things at once, something gets neglected. Which is in most cases paying attention to a conversation.

It gnaws at me whenever I'm caught. "You're not even listening." It's like a slap in the face to remind me of my... problem. There's nothing I can do about it, and it will happen from time to time. It's an impairment of mine. It makes my stomach prune, and twist and I feel completely awful. Like I've let them down. I hear disappointment in the tone every single time. And just once, I'd like some consideration.
But here's my other problem. Many other girls share this. I tend to surround myself with people who don't appreciate me.
  • They are often suspicious of my motives
  • they are insecure about my loyalties
  • they -never- believe me.
  • And my problems are never taken serious by them, simply brushed aside.
It hurts me.

And another thing. I am getting -sick- and -tired- of people constantly talking to me about how to be understanding toward others, yet any time I make mistakes, do something stupid, or say something that might not have been received right,  I get torn into relenetlessly.

I am sick of  high expectations. I can now see why others hide their noble qualities to maintain low expectations. To reduce that strain. I've lived that with a long time.
  • Who stands up for me? Who rationalizes what I do and talk someone else out of being upset with me? Nobody.
I am valued for not being judgmental towards others. And I am oddly surrounded by people who do nothing but judge me and my actions cruelly and with no shred of compassion. I hate that. Why have I been so understanding for so long when I've gotten little to nothing in return?

And "treat others as you want to be treated"? Please. I think I'm the only person who abides by that rule. Because I am constantly bombarded by those who want to treat me like crap. It's like they want me to treat them like garbage, but I can never bring myself to be cruel to others. Not without dissonance infesting my innards like a god damn stomach ache. 

For me, it hurts to be mean. And to be rude.

I think I'm arriving to that plateau that is called "Jaded." "Bitter" and "resentful."

Too often am I not treated like an equal. I'm discarded. I swear I have to roll over bleeding for people to be like, "Oh man! She might -actually- be hurt!" Why would I lie about being hurt? For some reason, people doubt my every word.

It's like they -want- me to be a liar. To be angry. To be mean. Or that I meant to be.

I cry. A lot. About silly things.  I'm too afraid to tell others, because they will always cast judgment.
People are cruel, and think they have the world figured out. 
I feel alone, all the time. Because a great portion of my day is literally spent alone at my 1-1 apartment in a town where under 10 people even know my name. I don't have roomies, which may seem like a dream.. but it isn't. It's not as glamorous as it seems.

I have had many battles with coping with it. And I have had problems which nobody else could help me with even if they wanted to because of my isolation from my family and friends. I am trying desperately hard to make things work, to meet people and make more friends. But it isn't easy being new. And even after a year of living here, I am still struggling to reach out to the world and have something snag.

I just don't know what else I need to do. I've tried everything short of holding a sign around my neck saying, "I am new here! I live alone. PLEASE BE MY FRIEND!"

It's a lot to bear. And I've cried more often now than I have in my teenaged years... 

I just want to be happy again. And all the uneven pressures from others just rubs in the fact that I am in fact still miserable.

I thought that improving my self image would lead to that. I thought that feeling good about myself would be enough. But it isn't. 

Valentine's day is creeping close... and that will be a sad, sad day..

A day I will probably spend crying again, naturally. Last year, it was because someone I was with let me down for the first and last time. And this year is because there is nobody at all that can be with me on that day that doesn't have to be with their someone else.
I don't know why it all still hurts so much.

But it's okay, nobody cares. Or it's just "small peanuts" compared to their nonsense. Well, fuck you. How dare you try to label my personal agonies as foolish or "not good enough". It doesn't matter if they measure up to the expectations of yours. Fuck your expectations.

I hope I don't cry myself to sleep tonight. It's looking like a pretty good possibility.

I hate February.


Jan. 30th, 2012

Twisted Perfect, From Dust to Fog.

It was doomed. And yet this child is ruled by my world of no still. I am just a rain cloud to his unrealistically optimistic world. It may have kept him alive, but I don't need that kind of naive sensibility through Monica-colored lenses. I have had my fair share of romantics, and turning them into lunatics, and fanatics. After me, being with me, destined to be with me. I fear I might have destroyed another unintentionally. It is not my fault that they are driven to such unhealthy relationships of addiction to me. And if it was, since I am the common denominator here, I don't know how   I keep doing it.
But, there is some good news. I finally met someone who is definitely real. A definite bread-winner, but still gentleman enough to weigh down the fact that he is okay looking. He's not ugly, not at all. He's a mechanic, this one. For the dealership. I won't mention which. He's lived, he's learned, and he's real about it. Very polite, but realistic. And above all, respectful. I have never been treated with such openness. The man is usually dominating the conversation or locking it into one sect of being trapped. 

I like him a lot. He seems nice, and I could talk to him for hours. First date, we hung out from 8 PM to 4 AM. And no, there wasn't any fooling around. No horizontal monster mash on the first date. I swore to myself, and kept to it! And it was easy to. He didn't pull anything fresh, didn't make a move. But admitted he wanted to. I like how he spoke to me. How he treats me. And I love his height! He's a giant. 6 foot 4, bitches. I'm definitely intrigued, a little taken with him indeed.

We shall see where this goes. Our second date was much the same as our first one. We sat on the couch and talked all night, watched movies, had a greet sweet time poking smot too. *Wink.*

Life is good at the moment. Anxiety's at an all time low. And only now that I am coming down from it did I realize that I had goosebumps all the time. Neurotic, literally! I have nerve issues, probably psychologically based. I'm happy at the moment.

That's the most I can ask for. It's all a super casual thing. Very chill. Which is comforting. And he's a gentleman. He definitely has that going for him. He snuck a "babe" in our last rendezvous. Which I found adorable. Oh, and a kiss on the forehead.

He really is a gentle giant. And I'm definitely having a good feeling.

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