2012 hasn't even started, and it's already beginning to unravel bit by bit. I'm saying sorry to way too many people that the word has lost its meaning for me - I can't be sorry for something that wasn't possible for me in the first place. I'm just sorry you had such unrealistic expectations, and I'm sorry I was the person that had to carry them through. And everyone's so busy nowadays that just saying "sorry, I'm busy" doesn't cut it anymore; and that SUCKS, because I really am too busy for most things that don't happen according to plan. Maybe I'm just too methodic, and I tend to plan my life out on a 2-dimensional road rather than some 3-dimensional topsy turvy maze as it should be. Maybe. Or maybe I should stop involving myself in things I'm indifferent about, and instead start focusing on what really matters to myself - that's a thought. But I'm knee-deep in everything already, and it's too late to back out. But you know what? It's only knee-deep, and knee-deep is probably the deepest I'll ever go. I don't have the energy nor the time nor the talent nor the confidence to completely submerge myself in one activity or passion, so all I do is dabble my toes here and there, never fully committed, but never fully negligent. That's why I'm labelled a slacker, I guess, then. The girl who's here one moment but gone the next, starting her work but never really finishing it, all gung-ho in the beginning but scared in the end. Don't think I don't hear what's said when I'm gone - I've just stopped caring. Maybe not stop caring (god that makes me sound so cynical), but more like I've stopped letting it affect me. Words can do a whole lot of damage, but they only damage you as much as you let them. Still though, my shield's not perfect - little things manage to get through and hurt me, and it happens all the time.
And honestly, every time I write posts like this or complain to someone about my terrific life, it feels like some self-righteous call for pity. What's scary is that sometimes I want it to be - I want someone to tell me they understand exactly where I come from, and that all these bitches that criticize don't know what I'm going through. But that's pathetic, because I honest-to-god know it's not true. Everything that happens, happens on my watch. They happen because of my actions and my words and my attitudes towards what I do. And whoever tells me otherwise is either a good friend who wants me to feel better about myself or someone who just wants me to stop whining. But what's truly rare are those friends who tell me "bitch, you got yourself into this mess; get yourself out of it." And I always want to slap them for being so rudely blunt, but then I want to hug them and kiss them because at the end of the day, I need words like those to pick myself up. If you've never had anyone tell you that, your friends aren't being real enough. If you have, you're blessed - don't ever take them for granted.
- crazy thoughts from a crazy girl at a crazy time in her life.
2012 hasn't even started, and it's already beginning to unravel bit by bit. I'm saying sorry to way too many people that the word has lost its meaning for me - I can't be sorry for something that wasn't possible for me in the first place. I'm just sorry you had such unrealistic expectations, and I'm sorry I was the person that had to carry them through. And everyone's so busy nowadays that just saying "sorry, I'm busy" doesn't cut it anymore; and that SUCKS, because I really am too busy for most things that don't happen according to plan. Maybe I'm just too methodic, and I tend to plan my life out on a 2-dimensional road rather than some 3-dimensional topsy turvy maze as it should be. Maybe. Or maybe I should stop involving myself in things I'm indifferent about, and instead start focusing on what really matters to myself - that's a thought. But I'm knee-deep in everything already, and it's too late to back out. But you know what? It's only knee-deep, and knee-deep is probably the deepest I'll ever go. I don't have the energy nor the time nor the talent nor the confidence to completely submerge myself in one activity or passion, so all I do is dabble my toes here and there, never fully committed, but never fully negligent. That's why I'm labelled a slacker, I guess, then. The girl who's here one moment but gone the next, starting her work but never really finishing it, all gung-ho in the beginning but scared in the end. Don't think I don't hear what's said when I'm gone - I've just stopped caring. Maybe not stop caring (god that makes me sound so cynical), but more like I've stopped letting it affect me. Words can do a whole lot of damage, but they only damage you as much as you let them. Still though, my shield's not perfect - little things manage to get through and hurt me, and it happens all the time.
And honestly, every time I write posts like this or complain to someone about my terrific life, it feels like some self-righteous call for pity. What's scary is that sometimes I want it to be - I want someone to tell me they understand exactly where I come from, and that all these bitches that criticize don't know what I'm going through. But that's pathetic, because I honest-to-god know it's not true. Everything that happens, happens on my watch. They happen because of my actions and my words and my attitudes towards what I do. And whoever tells me otherwise is either a good friend who wants me to feel better about myself or someone who just wants me to stop whining. But what's truly rare are those friends who tell me "bitch, you got yourself into this mess; get yourself out of it." And I always want to slap them for being so rudely blunt, but then I want to hug them and kiss them because at the end of the day, I need words like those to pick myself up. If you've never had anyone tell you that, your friends aren't being real enough. If you have, you're blessed - don't ever take them for granted.
- crazy thoughts from a crazy girl at a crazy time in her life.
Impress me. Sing along to Bon Jovi and Muse with me. Watch Lion King until your eyes hurt. Laugh at all my jokes. Buy me striped clothing on my birthday! Learn to love my Mickey. (: Memorize my phone number, and memorize it RIGHT. Buy me CD albums for my birthday/Christmas/anything! Never tell me you want to watch me swim. Get me Vitamin Water when I'm stressed. (: Tell me your life story. I'll tell you mine.
