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“As far as I could see, life demanded skills I didn’t have.”

— Susanna Kaysen, Girl, Interrupted

Absence makes my heart forget.

Out of sight, out of mind. 

I am getting bored though.  It’s time to spice things up a bit. 

He acts like I have him under some kind of spell.  Perhaps, it’s because I let him believe he has one over me.  But, he doesn’t have anything on me.  I not fourteen anymore.  I can stand my own ground.  The way he touches my face makes me think he wishes things were different.  It’s an on going chase.  I let him get close, then sprint ahead.  I don’t know why I’ve let it go on this long.  I’ll get around to ending it at some point I’m sure.

I want to move out.  I don’t like lying to my parents, but I want to do what I want, ya dig?  Yeah. 

He’s extremely hard to read.  For a day or so I was thinking he could be gay.  But oh no, he is most definitely not.

Well, I smell like fried rice.

ketchup

I haven’t written in a while.  I’ve been to busy being a wild child, apparently.  I’ve been flying, having a few drinks, and sniffling.  I say that as discretely as I can just incase my tumblr begins to get visitors. 

I recently discovered I do not need to take more than two shots of vodka.  I threw up once after three, and I threw up so many times I can’t count when I took four.  I had so much fun but I’m not all that sure it was worth all the getting sick.  I had my first drunken video taken of me Saturday.  I didn’t even remebmer it.  I just heard about it.  It was pretty funny.  I kept apologizing for getting so wasted, saying I promise I didn’t mean for it to get this far.  Then I fell back words, sat back up and said, “let’s get laid!"  It was really funny.  I didn’t like being so confused and sick in the morning.  And I had plans of revenge that night but I got to wasted to carry them out.  Luckily I am pretty sure now that I will have another few chances. 

I could pay attention in this class but to be honest I really don’t think it would help me.  Reading the chapter myself is much more sufficient.  This teacher is about 75 years old and admitted that he’s only teaching again to see if he can do it.  It’s becominf obvious that his retirement, God bless him,

But come to think of it I do need to study for my next class, bye.

“That was the thing about secrets—you had to carry them with you forever, no matter what the cost.”

— Kass Morgan, The 100

“Let me tell you this: if you meet a loner, no matter what they tell you, it’s not because they enjoy solitude. It’s because they have tried to blend into the world before, and people continue to disappoint them.”

— Jodi Picoult, My Sister’s Keeper

connect

Tonight my rich friend Jenn was supposed to do her buy with Big Sam. She said she wasn’t feeling well and the bank wouldn’t let her withdrawal the remaining 700$she needed in order to have the full amount. Jessie notified Sam and he his so pissed. Jess said we might have lost a good connect over this. He is definitely a good person to have on your side but they come and go. I doubt I’ll feel the same way when it the time come that I need something. We rescheduled for tomorrow. That should make us about 175$. I hope she gets me this job. 11.50$ an hour is really good for me. Especially considering it’ll be a normal 9-5 job. I’m meeting Jenn when she gets off work at Pat’s and were going to hang out there until the boys get off work. She’s seven years older than me and calls me her “bestie”. I never quite liked that word. I wonder if she’s sure of my age. I suppose I seem mature to her somehow? I’m not though, just old souled. Dear God, please keep Jessie out of jail. Thank you. I love you, amen. I’ve been speeding about five nights a week at Jessie’s. I’ve really started to get comfortable with the long term idea. I just want to wait until I have a job. I don’t like having to ask Jess for money every time I want something, which is unfortunately often. I just got an idea, love you bye.

“There is always something left to love.”

— Lorraine Hansberry, A Raisin in the Sun

more on unconsciousness;

I am so fucking pissed.

How could he?  How could anyone be okay with that?

I hate you.  Everything about you screams scumbag.  I wonder how many girls you’ve drugged. And every one at Heritage thinks you’re just the sweetest little male cheerleader with your poor cracked skull.  Oh, give me a break.  You probably only cracked your skull because you stole my medicine.  You are a pathetic excuse of a gentleman.  How could any girl in their right mind even use your name and that word in the same sentence.  I will figure out someway to make you regret this.  I remember the day I asked you what you did that night because I was hurting so much when I woke up next to you.  You replied, “Oh, don’t worry about it sweetheart, you’ll be fine.”

I’ve gone from rage, to hysteric tears.  I HATE YOU.

nineteen, again and counting, again

Things are okay today, almost. Everyday has it’s enemies. Sitting, waiting for the opportunity to take everything you’ve worked for, whatever that may be. More or less, it doesn’t matter because you worked for it. The miracle of this new lifestyle is I can choose not to play in the shadows with my enemies. I’ve been testing this new theory that if you come out of your room every once in a while, you meet new people. I’ve been trying not to be so shy. I find myself feeling stupid more often than not but, I also find myself laughing more than I have in a long time. Maybe, just maybe, it’s worth the trade off. I know if nothing else I need to learn to be comfortable with who I am and what I say, how I feel and how I look. I need to learn what is appropriate to be said as well, though. Doped up anything you say or do feels like flying so much so that you don’t give shit about those below you. All of a sudden, I care what people think, how I make people feel, what’s right, and what’s wrong. The beginning of this journey, you know “to recovery”, is going to hurt like hell, if I do it right. I have to let go and trust that through the pain I’ll unleash working the steps will come true serenity. I want peace, for the first time in my life. I want to be okay with being alone while at the same time being sure that’s not the only thing I do. Having fun with people in recovery but still keeping in mind that the 13th step will always be in the rooms. It doesn’t matter how sweet he’s talking, how great of a listener he is, or how many secrets he tells you. He’s still a candidate, whether he knows it or not. And of course that doesn’t mean they’re all like that. It just means its best to keep your shirt on, at least until, well actually I don’t know. I just have to be careful, at all costs. I need to focus on me. I need to attend more meetings. I need a job! And I need to let go of the resentment I’ve gained against the directors here. Whether or not it’s right doesn’t matter because they’re only trying to help me stay clean. And clearly, I can’t do that very successfully on my own. My boyfriend, or lack there of, is becoming more and more complicated. He wants sex and hell, so do I but I am in a halfway house! I say that so many time I could type it in my sleep. It’s like he forgets and all of a sudden thinks I’m refusing to see him. There is a side of it that is my fault. It takes me a little while to warm up to him when we hang out. I’m not sure why, mostly because I’m completely sober, but also perhaps it’s because I am far from comfortable with my body. He mentioned the other night hoe much better I look than I did when I was strung out, under weight, and so fucking lifeless looking. I have a hard time accepting that I might look better then than I do now but I’m trying to work on myself physically/mentally while remaining content with who I am at the same time. Regardless, I love him so much. And I’ll let you know if that ever changes. He got me this beautiful necklace for Valentine’s Day. We’re going to be okay. That’s it, for now.