Here’s a list of things I need to do this week:
Clean Living Room
Realize My Self-Worth
And Maybe Shower.
Because showers are such a chore.
You drank the red from my pretty, little face.
And filled my head with whimsy things like, feathers and lace.
Why do I want to?
Oh, why do I want to?
I’m not made of real things, I’m sorry, it’s not me.
La da da da da
I want you to know, I’m made of stardust and the sea.
I was never bright or shiny like fresh nickels tucked in pockets.
Oh mm mm mm mmmmmmmm.
Or anything special like a lovely picture set inside a locket.
But why do I want to?
Oh why do I care?
It’s the way you run your fingers oh so gently through your hair.
It’s how you smile and and see me, like I’m real and really there.
Instead of dreams and silly things, or trinkets on a shelf.
You see me standing there, and smile when it’s me and no one else.
Oh why do I want to?
Why do you care?
Ohh…mmmmmmm la da da da da
You drank the red from my pretty little face.
I went and got a coffee, I went and drove through town.
I went and thought my feelings would better, and somehow come around.
Despondence and distance are things I’ll never understand.
When I can’t even reach destinations with the stretch of my little hands.
Who needs food, when I thrive on the color red?
Like the sunsets that fade over my tiny head.
Shades of tangerine. Glows of peach and nectarine.
Fading to plum, and then turning to black.
Everyone else is thriving, creating, being, breathing the night skies.
And I am barely living, trying, stumbling from sigh to sigh.
These nights are so much more, with tangles in my hair.
When I am stuck here waiting, and it doesn’t feel fair.
I realized why I feel so down. In a sense, I ran out of gas. I got stranded on the side of self-deprication and depression. I just have to fill back up. Even if that means I have to backtrack on foot and retake some steps a few miles to get to the nearest filling station.
Which means, I just need to get back…..but where did I veer off and run out? I’m not sure. It’s going to be a long road. But at least I know where to start.
Are only found in my dreams. Follies and fancies, because being real would be just too good to be true.
I feel stuck. And depressed. Ryan asked me if I was happy. And I didn’t lie when I said, “Not always.” Because happiness is not real for me, it’s just as brief and fleeting as the rain in the desert. I hide behind sarcasm and jokes. I make others laugh, to make me laugh. Mostly I spend my days brooding and stuck on some dream that I wish more than any wish would come true. When I know it’ll never happen. So I get mad at myself for wasting yet another day dreaming.
It’s a vicious cycle. And now I am doing the laundry and marinating chicken. I picked chicken over tacos so we could have tacos on Teen Mom Tuesday. Now it’s Teen Mom Taco Tuesday. And later when the other moms are on, after this season it’ll be Teen Mom 2 Taco Tuesday. Because T is hard for me to pronounce anyway, why not make it oh so much fun?!
The moral of the story is this for today, Life is just this. Deal with it.
Shortly after I turned 25, I wanted to go right back to being 5. My dad cried. He sang me the song he made up for me when I was little in a voicemail. I don’t know how or if there’s a way to load it here, otherwise I’d share it with you. I cried.
And now a few days after, I have summertime sadness, the summer flu. I want to curl up in my sweater and drink tea and wait for the leaves to turn. I don’t like how I feel. Depressed. Alone.
Waiting for autumn.
Always waiting for change. Always wanting more. It’s like a sickness, a self-entitled illness. Because obviously I want things now, this instant. Because I am just oh so worthy of it. Ha. Sarcasm.
But seriously. I really want something big to change my life. Moves aren’t big, new places are scary but not really. Birthdays come every year. And then I fade back into wanting autumn. Like, it should go, my birthday…skip skip skip….BAM October.
I don’t even know what I’m talking about. But, I guess, I just want something more. I didn’t think this would be my life. I don’t know if I like it. I see all my cousins excelling and I get jealous. I see my sister kicking ass and being smart and pretty and lovely and I get jealous. I see friends getting married and having babies and I get sad, depressed, self-depricating and jealous. I see all of these exciting lives and compare them to my safe and boing one. And then think, well surely I am a loser. I don’t do anything remotely cool. Because in all honesty, I don’t.
On a whim I contacted a photographer about being a model for American Apparel, and fantasized about the amazing life that would be, only to be still waiting days later….
My life is complacent. Right now my biggest concern is if we eat grilled chicken or tacos for dinner. FML.
I miss being young, and playing imaginary games until the sun went down, not caring about this stupid existential life. About how well I do socially or financially or as a career. And all of this….it all came just a few days after turning 25. Quarter life crisis. Shit.
None of these will ever probably be fulfilled, but it’s worth a shot.
1. To be famous
2. To have my voice be in a popular cartoon
3. To get published
4. Be a model
5. Sing and not be afraid when people hear
6. Live in LA
7. Be happy for a longer lapse of time beyond a day or two
8. Stop being so critical of myself
9. Realize I’m funny/pretty/witty/smart/lovely….
10. Have naturally long and thick hair.
I’m not going to write much of anything sentimental or existential or how I feel so much more mature, because I really don’t. I’m not going to wax poetic about this birthday being exactly what I dreamed it would be, because we all know, it’s the opposite of that.
But I will tell you that I’m getting ice cream tonight. Which is my favorite food. And I will tell you that I have a new perfect birthday outfit planned. And I feel really genuinely pretty today. Which is the best feeling in the world. I feel shiny.
25 years ago, was 1987. Shoulder pads and permed hair.
25 years ago, the average cost of a house was $92,000.
A gallon of gas was 89 cents.
Prozac was introduced in the US
Ryan Lochte was also born on this day, in 1984.
Basically, today is a good day.
And now do you know what time it is??
I’m at that point where I want to stay up until 1:30 for my official birthday, but I also want to get ready for bed…….Decisions Decisions.