Stewart

I feel so bad. I never stepped back to look at how you're feeling because I'm just this stubborn strongly-opinionated bitch that's living in a world that resolves around myself. I never took the time to appreciate you for loving me when it must be so hard to love somebody that's constantly thinking about their own self, life, and future. But i don't think it's always been like this... I kind of blame you for the problem at hand.

It's so hard to keep our relationship like ours healthy, especially a 4-year one. When I met you, you were a boy that found pleasure in the simplest things in life (I kind of robbed you of that). I've never seen a cute boy, stunting with soooo much fucking swag, with your award winning smile that didn't scream "look at my ego". And your confident introduction, "youz a sexy", won me over. At that point I envisioned you to be a brave man with confidence, that wouldn't let anything get in the way of getting what he wanted. After we started dating, I showed you what success felt like. And in doing so I showed you that I really wasn't your typical girl(Don't blame me for that shit because I warned you from the get-go). You saw me as a girl that would do anything to succeed, and knew how to do it. I appeared to be very well-rounded with my smile and my daily new bags/outfits. You can correct me if I'm wrong but, when you saw that 90 on your report card you knew that I was doing something right. I never thought of circumstances like that to be detrimental to our relationship, but they are. Babe, you let me step into your life and show you how to lead it. In my opinion, nobody has ever pushed you to be the best. The more I fiddle into the way you live your life, the more you back away from it. I'm sorry, I never knew I was silencing you out from the rules of your own life. That's never what I intended to do! In fact, that's the last thing I'd want you to do.I'm just a little controlling because i never want you to stop being your best. I want you to have your own mission and strive for that shit. I want you to have strong opinions, and to back that shit up with smart, factual logic. I want you to have your own dreams, except dream bigger. I want you to work harder than you could ever even imagine. I want us to inspire each other and always try to do big shit, the way all-star power couples are like. Because aren't we supposed to push out the best of each other?

Most importantly, I want you to put me in check. You let me get away with shit that ain't fly. Allowing me to get away with cheating is not okay. And I have a tendency of saying some OD reckless shit. (Although, the partying when you're not available IS acceptable.) You let me get away with that because I say that I'm doing me and I can't change it. I never realized it was my way of crying for help. I want to see if you could outsmart me... to give me that positive perspective of life. The positive perspective I got from your glowing smile. Where did that luster go?

Ironically my negative attitude is like a disease I spread to you, when I envisioned you to be my vaccine. It's ultimately my fault for the way the two of us become--Me: a spoiled brat that never thinks about the consequences of my actions; And, you: a lesser version of yourself. I'm sorry for hurting us, i'm sorry for you constantly telling me this and me not even attempting to listen. I'm sorry for the effect my cheating had on your view of me.

I'm sorry for not understanding why you weren't there after my father's death. I present my life to you in a way that makes it seem like I'm very hard to please. Like, I'm living in my own elite world and you're not going through this shit so what the fuck would you know about it. What the fuck were you supposed to do after my father's death? That shit doesn't even happen like, I still can't even believe that was real life. I never talked to you about my feelings because I was just caught up in myself. I never even realized how it must have affected you. You were discovering the horrible truths hidden in the life of an admirable Indonesian Business Man. I believe that your 2-week absence was my fault because I constantly tell you to let me deal with my issues on my own. I don't want to place a burden on you. All i want to do is just be with you. The boy that knew the right spots to hit (emotionally, sexually, and stomachly) to let me know that somebody cares about me. Somebody that cares to know about me. Somebody cares about making me happy in the smallest way possible. But, in trying to perfect you, all I do is point out each of your flaws to nag you in every possible way. Basically what I'm saying is, if I didn't mess you up we wouldn't be messed up. Because I don't need your perfection, I don't need you to be an anal bitch like me. All I want, and all i enjoy, from you is... you. And I've pushed your 'you' aside. Babe come back to me and give me the spanking I need. Stop letting me silence you out and stop letting me win. You spoil me too damn much.
I love you boo and I'm always going to. You're always what I need to give me that warm feeling in my stomach, not this icebox where my heart used to be. I'm so cold, I'm so cold, I'm so cold... and you're the only one that can light my fire. For real talk.

I really do want to get out of this "elite" mind phase because it's too fucking lonely. I'm getting deeper into this isolation which is causing me to have more deep, hurt, suppressed feelings. The longer we go without having a deep-substantial talk, the more I'm afraid of getting deeper into this isolation bullshit. I miss you, and I miss you caring to try to know me. But, in your eyes, I've lost my appeal as well...

I'm sorry I took so damn long... And thank you for loving me and waiting for me to come to this realization. Only took about... two years? Love you mucho mi amo <3

emo bitch

feeling disconnected from everything at this point... that shit never used to bother me before but now that stewart dont' even talk to me no more this isolation shit's getting pretty intense. my negative attitude kind of intertwines with that isolation shit so i'm kinda in a downwarding spiral rite now. pillz and booze and buddah used to fill the void but my body's fucking worn out.
and my brain/backneck always makes these goddamn sizzling noises. i dont know what that shit means but i don't give a fuck. the girls are going out to the bars tonite but i have a date with my bed and my polsci textbook. peace and love webfolks

Needing Therapy for Retail Therapy

Over the weekend I headed back to Queens for my sibs' birthdays. On his birthday, Christopher told me that he misses my dad and my heart sunk into my stomach. Towards the end of the night we found Christopher's black DS, the DS that my dad bought for Christopher last summer, and I told him that it was a gift from his didi in heaven.
So I'm back on campus now and I finally have a laptop. It's not a good thing. I'm constantly window-shopping via the internet and I'm flat-broke. I'm going to have to find a job tomorrow, amongst a huge number of errands I have to run, so I can buy all the shit I need. I'm kind of obsessed with Hellz Bellz and MTTM at the moment, but we know that will last for a week. I love the hints of female empowerment behind the tees, and I love Lanie's POV's! So I'm adding all these new "fresh to death" blogs on my google reader and during the process I realized that I have a million blogs that I never read. Since I'm trying to lead this NCO life, I had to delete 75% of my blogs. I narrowed it down to blogs that have high-quality photos and high-quality fashion. Although, these blogs don't really have text... and I'm going to miss reading the average bloggers' daily findings/stories/etc. But I'm getting older and it's time to put that petty bullshit aside. Darn.





(I'm still keeping Fops and Dandies, in case she ever comes back to the blogging world from damn Chicago.)

Talkin' Shit

I went out on Tuesday night. Yes, I walked home drunk in the snow. It was a pretty dead night though and my week got progressively worse. For starters, Elizabeth is not the person you'd want in your pre-gaming group. But it's not like there's anybody in New Paltz that could substitute for her. Speaking of the students at New Paltz, O-M-G I hate them! Sucking up is the biggest sport here, and they only play that shit so they won't have to sit alone in the dining hall or go to the bars on their own. Do they even enjoy their company? Well maybe I'm just a Debbie Downer. Also, I'm as sick as a dog. My head, throat, and nose are killing me! Especially the skin under my nose... Puffs is not helping me right now. So to make up for the horrible week, I tried to dress nicer. Because looking good always makes me feel good. Now I just realize I'm a shallow bitch and the emptiness can't be filled with strangers' compliments anymore. I'm not a happy camper right now. Thank God I'm going home to be reunited with my family.
Lately I've been feeling mad depressed and shit. But it's time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself. It's time for me to stop depending on others to push me, especially Stewart. I don't even think he's on the same level as I am and who knows what he wants to do with his life... I don't even think he goes to school since he's smoking all the god damn time. If he can't do time management how can he even handle a steady job? Okay I'll stop whining. The only way I can stop complaining about my crappy life is if I actually do something about it... and I guess I'll start with my grades. Maybe I'll start reading the novels my International Politics teacher recommended................................................Oh boy, let's see how this goes.

Orion Mountain Dreamer

"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
for your dreams,
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain!
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when its not pretty every day,
and if you can source your life from God's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of a lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone,
and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are,
how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the Fire with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself,
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments. "