less human than human.

There's no sense in wishing things were different.

My mom always told me not to think about past-tense "what if" scenarios. (This was years ago, probably when I was still in elementary school.)
I'm finally, finally starting to listen.

Longing to have an effect on the past is stupid, but human. Grieving over the things you cannot change is stupid, but human.
Don't feel bad for feeling bad. That's really just stupid, layered on stupid.

Some things are better left alone.
Sometimes, the smallest things open Pandora's box, and we begin the kind of suffering that we can excuse with being human.
We're emotional. We hurt. We regret our actions. We wish we could undo things.

Why not just accept that we are human?


Why can we not just force ourselves to resist temptation in any given situation?
I'd love if desire had an off switch.

fixer upper.

There are not enough movie ticket stubs, or airplane tickets, or Google letters to cover up the fact that there is a hole in my wall. It's been there for nearly three years and nothing's ever been done about it.
And, when the day comes that I, or my parents, or the next owners of the house, fix that hole, it won't take back the night when it happened.

And bad things happen.
And it sucks to get hurt, I know.

But nothing ever gets fixed until you do something about it.

bull.

I stand by my argument that people never really change. They evolve slowly; they take steps forward and backward, and sometimes it's hard to tell the difference between the two.
Should a person pursue what they are raised to believe is true, or should they pursue what their soul itches for? Can a person even tell the difference? At what point do those two things start to seem like the same thing?

Good things do not come to those who wait. Good things come to those who go out and actually try to get them.
And when you find exactly what you want, you run after it, you latch onto it, and you beat the hell out of it until it's yours. Otherwise, you really didn't want it that badly anyway.

It's funny how many things in life you learn that you find you have to unlearn.

Although I don't always enjoy irony, I can appreciate it.

fruitless trees.

I want to start by saying this: I am not wise.
I have no idea what I'm doing. I have theories, but it's all trial and error. Nothing extraordinary. Nothing that the average person couldn't do on their own. I feel as though I'm constantly losing my temper and avoiding important conversations. I have double-standards, and yet I'm harder on myself than I think my friends and family are combined.
Some people have told me that they look to me as a role model, but I'm not sure I can see why. Because I have finally begun to manage my life without emotionally unraveling? Because I'm attempting to fix my problems? Because I'm done treating my life as hopeless?

Hopelessness. I'd guess that I know that feeling just as well as any other angst-y teenager. We've all curled up with it, and cried over the fact that there are things in our lives that we cannot change; there are pains in our life that we cannot escape; we are stuck in these situations forever and ever.
And, no, I don't believe that anymore.

There have been very few things in my life that I felt were wholly mine. I have always been the odd man out. I have always felt somehow distant and disconnected.
I feel as though I'm able to graze parts every part of my life with my fingertips, but never grab onto them. I have this family. I have these friends. I have this boyfriend, that boyfriend. But, somehow, they are not mine. They are not my property. I'm just a cloud, passing over home, hovering over the moon, looking down on a creek and a pirate ship.
I never in my life considered that maybe other people could feel the same way.
I also never in my life considered that maybe other people are the clouds, passing through.

It's useless to try and catch clouds. That's not my job.
It's just my job to continue forward, and so that's what I'm doing.

To move forward, sometimes you have to let go. And yes, sometimes it hurts. Sometimes, it's almost unbearable.
But you know what? I'd rather move forward than stay in the same spot forever and ever.

I am not wise, but someday, I'd like to be.

the diary of jane.

I haven't really been having any trouble listening to what one of my close friends has had to say lately. It just hurts to realize that I'd been doing the same thing for so long myself. And, it makes more sense when you look at it like this:
"The cup is leaking all over the fucking floor! I'm getting rid of it"
But, when you start to make excuses:
"Well, maybe I just washed it too many times."
"I'm just too clumsy with it. I shouldn't blame the cup for being delicate."
"I can just make sure that my hand covers the holes up, and I drink it fast."
... it gets a little bit ridiculous, doesn't it?

The best metaphors for me are the ones with multiple meanings; the ones that people only understand the half of, because then I get the satisfaction of someone listening to a secret while still being able to keep things to myself.

So, excuse me while I just set the cup down and paw at the glass, itching to touch the hand on the other side. The fingers that are apparently not meant to be laced with mine.

Well, isn't that just the story of everyone's life?

I'm not worried. Love isn't life. Life is life.
I am learning to differentiate.
I am constantly learning.

drill.

With a little help from Raychel, I pierced my own ears. It wasn't as bad as they make it out to be in the movies. In fact, I think it hurt less doing it on my own than getting an earring shoved through my lobe at the mall. Figures, huh? They only hurt a little now, and I think it's because I also started stretching my first holes on the same day. I'm a smart cookie.
Don't worry. I'm taking good care of my piercings, so save the lectures.

I also figured out the secret to perfect lipstick. Though, I'm sure it's not much of a secret. I've seen people on Youtube do it; I've just never done it on myself.
Yeah, Cheryl. Boring. Give us substance.

I want to know why I'm forever the bad guy. I want to know why people constantly pin things on me. I want to know why people spread stupid rumors about me, and then attack me when I try to defend myself with the truth.
And when I say "people", I really do mean people, not someone specific. Some of them old friends, some of them just people who only know my name. It's mostly the former that bothers me.
Maybe that's just life. Maybe everyone is the villain in someone else's story.
Man, what a depressing way to look at things.

I rarely ever take pictures head-on because I think my jaw is crooked. Then again, it doesn't seem like anyone else has ever really noticed it, even when I point it out. Maybe I'm just too critical of myself.
Besides, what does it matter if my jaw is crooked? I can still chew and speak.

Why does having flaws have to be a bad thing?


Edit: Don't worry, I'm happy with myself. I just wonder sometimes why other people aren't.

enchant.

I've got no reason to wake up early tomorrow, and so I haven't gone to bed yet. I've been cleaning and organizing. And eating crappy rice.
And now I think I'll update everyone, standard blog style. If you're looking for something fancy and well thought-out, you might as well quit reading.

Fern and I went on a picnic for our eleven month. I've wanted to do that with him since the first time I went to that park. Maybe next time we can have a picnic on the beach, eh Fern? :P
Speaking of the beach, he's going to come with me to Cabo this coming winter. I'm excited. It's not that I don't like to be around my family while I'm there, because I do - it's not the same as being at home where things are stressful and we hardly see each other anyway. It'll just be nice to have someone to go into town with, to parasail with, and to do those other things my parents wouldn't want to do with me.
And get your mind out of the gutter.

I started writing a new story. So far, so good. I'm not really sure what else to say about that, though.

I started talking to/hanging out with some old friends again. It's funny how there are some people that don't forget your stupid fears, and don't forget your favorite color and how to make you laugh when you're down. It's funny how, sometimes, you can pick up where you left off with a person, no matter what happened in between.


Strawberries will always make me think of Fern, and when I made him see Across the Universe with me in theaters. It'll always make me think of his couch. It'll always make me think of chocolate and sugar.
Maybe I'm just being naïve. I get the feeling, though, that I'm not.