unnecessary emo post is unnecessary...sorry in advance.

So there's something ridiculously depressing about having something so close that you can almost taste it and knowing that you'll fuck it up.

Yes, kids, it's that time again--time for me to whine about life because it's that or passive-aggressively push everyone away until I have a mental breakdown. Because WOW do I not have time for that.

But anyway, I'm getting to that point again where I'm just feeling really down about myself. I think this is because Darling Roommate is, of absolutely no fault of her own, rapidly becoming the symbol of everything I want and can't have. She's pretty and skinny and completely in love with someone who loves her back, and I know that she deserves everything she has, I know that, but it doesn't stop me from being irrationally jealous of her. DR is fantastic and does not deserve me resenting her, and I feel like shit about it, but sometimes I just want to be like, "Please, for the love of Christ, stop looking at yourself in the mirror and talking about having a 'food baby'. Stop saying how 'badly' you've eaten. Stop talking about Eric for five minutes." And obviously I'm not going to say that because she's wonderful and does not deserve to be slammed like that, but it's just...fuck.

I think the problem is that I'm trying to make up for my ridiculously low self-esteem by being overly cocky. Which probably borders on obnoxious. I digress. I just feel like, despite all the people in my life who I know love and care about me, I don't deserve their affection. I can't get into a relationship because I feel like anyone who is nice enough to want to be with me deserves someone who's not so broken and cynical and fucked-up.

And now there's this boy who's utterly fantastic and I have a massive crush on him that might be sorta kinda returned a little bit maybe? and all I want to do is tell him, but I'm terrified. I'm scared that I'll let someone in and it'll all go to hell again and my subconscious will say "I told you so, I told you so" and I'll be fucked up even more, and it'll be my own fault.

Darling Roommate will kill me for this, but even though I told her I was going to go for him over vacation, I don't know if I can. I don't think I can. I'm too scared, and I'm too insecure, and I hate it, but I don't know how to fix myself.

In conclusion:

Fuck.



p.s. boy, if you're reading this (which I doubt), please understand that none of this is directed at you. it's all directed at me. <3 Read more! Read more!

one of those days

Well, by one of those days, I mean "one of those weekends".

I don't know. Maybe I'm tired, maybe I'm stressed, but I just don't feel good, you know? My hands are shaking and my voice is dying and I feel like I'm constantly on the verge of tears. I had auditions today for various vocal groups, and I know I fucked up the ones I've been to and I'm just going to screw up the later ones.

I wish I could sleep for more than two hours.




I hate feeling helpless like this.
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YOU GUYS

YOU GUYS.

=


I CAN'T UNSEE IT.

so apparently...James Dean = Jensen Ackles? WTF, brain?

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Milk

I just got back from seeing Milk, and I've got to say, it was one of the most inspiring movies I've seen in a very long time. I'll go into details later, but all I can say right now is that I hope, more than ever, that the GLBT characters in my novels somehow serve as role models to people in areas that maybe aren't so accepting of people with differences. I want to make a different, I want to somehow inspire people to know that they're okay.

I'll probably see the movie again before I come back with a lengthy review, but all I can say now is four stars, this should get Oscars, it's amazing, go see it.




...also, there is no way anyone will ever be able to convince me that Emile Hirsch and Lucas Grabeel didn't hook up on set, and I have a really terrible urge to write Cleve Jones/Danny Nicoletta fanfiction. WTF is wrong with me?
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so many levels of fucked up

You know what? I've been hearing that "the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem" bullshit for years. And you know what? Fine. I have a problem.

And you know what's actually getting me to admit to that problem?

I'm jealous of this:


(The characters, not the actors, obviously. I'm totally convinced that he's gay and she's sleeping with Ashley Tisdale.)

Because, seriously. These two ridiculous characters, in a fucking Disney movie, are capable of a more mature and loving relationship than I am. They made it through a cliquey school, a scheming princess diva, and college decisions, and they still ended up together. And yeah, it's Disney, so of course there was a happy ending. But still.

And I never had to try and brave any of that shit. I didn't have to deal with cliques or schemers or college distance. All I had to deal with in order to make a successful relationship was my own subconscious.

But you know what? I can't. I can't come to grips with the fact that I'm totally, completely messed up.

So instead, I project the opposite image. I cuddle and drape myself all over people and talk about how comfortable I with sex and sexuality, when in reality every touch makes me cringe, every lewd joke makes me remember all the times when sex was dirty and painful and awful. I pretend everything's okay when all I want to do is curl up and cry.

When I write stories, be it fanfiction or original, my readers always comment on the angst and hurt and abuse I put my characters through. They tell me "I felt so awful for so-and-so. I'm glad so-and-so was there for him/her!" And the characters are getting all the empathy I didn't. Because people care about the characters. There's an attachment there. People would rather read about their favorite characters being abused than hear their friends' stories. And that sucks.

But it's an outlet. I write about the characters and their reactions and yeah, they're much more realistic and painful than that grammatically retarded shit on fanfiction.net. It's dark and it's gritty and it's real, because life sucks like that.

I know, in the back of my mind, that I wouldn't be the writer I am today without the shit that happened to me. I wouldn't be able to channel my emotions into my writing. I wouldn't be able to make my characters real and believable and human.

Don't get me wrong. My writing saved my life. Without my ability to channel my pain into poetry and prose, I probably wouldn't be here today. And without what happened, I don't think I'd be a bad writer, but I'd certainly be a different one.

And do you want to know a secret?

I'd trade all the writing ability in the world for the ability to be normal again. To go on a date without looking around for every possible exit, every person in the surrounding area I can scream for. To be alone with someone of the opposite sex without being scared. To hug someone without wanting to cry. To be sexual without feeling like I have to.

In the end, I just want to live in a Disney world where everyone gets to have a happy ending.
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HSM in 2 minutes or less

You guys...I wish there were words to describe how awesome this is.

...But there aren't.

(for those of you wondering, that guy is Drew Seeley, who did Troy's singing in HSM1. BBV is not there because no one cares about her.) Read more! Read more!

Oh, BOYS.

Okay. Seriously.

Sometimes...sometimes there just aren't words.

....*gigglesnort*

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