Halloween Plans, Day 90

I thought I'd write an entry now or else I'll forget. I probably won't write one tomorrow either because I'll b e adventuring in San Diego. But today I'm going to dress up as a rich woman for Halloween. I got invited to a bunch of things, but ultimately I want to hang out with my German friend who wants an American Halloween experience or so she thinks. Since I know her I know she's not going to feel the whole slutty scene. So I thought I'd take her to a parade instead. Then maybe I'll surprise my friend by showing up to a party after all if possible. I'll be getting picked up at 9:30 pm, and I haven't even gotten started on getting ready. My laptop bag with my wallet is with my friend. Luckily, I bought a bra from a lingerie shop I know well, so I was able to take t he bra home. I'm going to call her with my card info. Ahhhhh!!!!!

What Procrastination Hides in Me, Day 89

I feel like my recent blogs have carried a lethargic tone. It's like a never ending season. We need flowing energy in our lives, and I've been stagnant. As much as I must have bored readers, (assuming I have any), I realize that I've been in this state for a reason. It's good that I didn't conceal it and wrote authentically to my feelings because by focusing and channeling it, it's brought me awareness.

I've never experienced procrastination to this degree before. I've always been such a disciplined person. But I've always been a different person until this point. I suppose it makes sense that when I change as a person so will my habits. There's hidden meaning behind every action. I don't have to decode every single one of them, but clearly it was important that I decipher this because I've been in this state for so long. My mind keeps floating back here.

To discover who I am now, I have to understand who I was because although I'm changing and growing, I'm building from the old me. I used to be so disciplined and repetitive because it was an effective way to avoid my emotions. I was doing it long before I even knew why, and I've done it for so long that I didn't realize what has happening or what it was even doing to me.

Since I've began to break my habit of guarding myself from my own emotions, the very habit that sustained it is beginning to crumble - my self-disciplined "nature". I'm 25 and I'm discovering the challenges of procrastination because I'm not practiced in it. I used to think I was fortunate for being such a focused individual. But I never really was focused, was I? I was just desperate to avoid what makes me human.

I do want to open up more, but it's painful. My procrastination is halting this painful process. Sometimes when I'm struggling, people seek me out. And I don't mind. It's an altruistic relationship for me, too. By helping others I'm able to distract myself from my own problems or mildly help myself. But I've reached a new peak. Helping others gives me an opportunity to look away from my own problems. It may soothe me, but I can't make progress that way.

Procrastination is my body's way of removing activity from my life that I can utilize to distract myself from this process. Helping others is a path I can take to help myself but only from a subconscious level. Helping others is also a path I can take to suppress my own emotions. When I'm not distracted with those things, all I'm left with is my own thoughts.

A Consistent Day, Day 88

I want to complete this blog before the next day! I'm behind on my entries not because I'm neglectful. My days are just long. Today felt consistent. I've been maintaining a sense off lethargy and floatlessness. I want some direction and drive back into my life.

The Beauty in Imagination, Day 87

Some people are adamant that imagination and daydreams are a waste of time, that it makes no sense to live outside of reality. But reality is limited to confines of the five senses (taste, touch, sight, smell, and hearing). Imagination extends beyond any and all of those dimensions. I believe there's value in experiencing things beyond ourselves. We can only do that by escaping what traps us. Imagination is one path and one that's tangible for me.

With that said, my seemingly limitless imagination is powerful towards enlightenment or escapism with equal abandon. So I know I have to learn to control it or else it runs the risk of being destructive, rather than insightful. When I'm unhappy, unsatisfied, under stimulated, depressed, detached, or trying to escape my emotions whether it's intentional or not, I'm most susceptible to becoming a slave to my imaginations and vulnerable to the downfalls that follow. Being so conscientious of that, I was diligent in insuring that I don't fall prey to it. So instead the emotional burdens that have began to weigh on me has manifested itself through my allergies. Since that epiphany, my allergies have calmed. Just like dreams help us to process the daily struggles we face, daydreams are an inadequate replacement. With my sleep becoming compromised, I suppose my body had nothing else to turn to.

In one imagination, my true feelings surfaced. How does that saying go? "You have to find the truth in fiction." Every so often I'll find myself returning to feelings I'd rather not have and thoughts I'd rather ignore. I'll allow myself to surrender to them, but mostly they're too brief for anything meaningful to happen. That's my theory since my feelings are masquerading itself through a daydream.

I went to some celebrity party. I got to wear my beautiful plum colored dress. I met Dean Cain, my first crush ever! I also met Jensen Ackles who's my boyfriend and lover. I used to say that David Boreanaz is my husband, but I've sort of lost interest in that. It was still cool to meet him there. I used to be so obsessed with that idea to the point that I guess it seemed "realistic" to my friends because they began to honestly picture us together. They were devastated as my interest for him waned because they became attached to my fantasized relationship with him. I also met Andrew Keegan, Paris Hilton, Brad Pitt, Angelina Jolie, and P. Diddy. It was very much a Hollywood world experience.

I went "home", not to where I currently live but a place I live in in my imagination. There, also lived my ex, curiously enough. He was grabbing something out of the refrigerator when he saw me entering. He had a sly smile and asked how it was. I must have had that look of excitement and spark in my eyes because his energy matched my own. I couldn't sense my own feelings at this point, but I can recognize it in him, and I knew it wasn't coming from him. So he must've been bouncing off of mine. I was enthusiastic and narrative about the celebrities I met. He said I looked happy.

I've never been much of a celebrity girl other than checking out hotties. Celebrity gossip and status always seemed frivolous to me. But going to an event filled with them isn't an opportunity that comes across frequently. So naturally I was excited and attended. It was a real cool night. It was fun and exciting. I was overly enthusiastic about being able to wear my dress! But really what made the experience for me was being surrounded by that kind of energy. There's something intoxicating and invigorating about being exposed too so much successful people who are confident in that. It's a powerful force. That's what it was about for me. I didn't care about the idea of seeing actors and actresses winning awards for films and shows I've never heard of. I just value new experiences. So I went.

I went on about how I met SO MANY HOTTIES! What's not to love about meeting your first celebrity crush? He asked and by asked I mean rhetorically, "You're totally horny, aren't you?" Confirmation was expressed. FYI: I'm being selectively discreet because the imagination took an erotic path. I actually expressed a word that symbolizes something for us, and I want to keep that ours. It's one word. He says something along the lines of, "Well I can help you out with that."

That's when the direction of my energy shifted, and I remembered his words, "You look happy." I looked at him saddened and said, "You don't know me as well as you think you do." He looked conflicted, lightly guilty, and felt misunderstood. He said that's not what he meant and was joking. Yeah right! But to a degree I believe him. That's not what I meant, nor was that what I was referring to.

I was thinking about happiness. I asked him if he remembered that night when he was over and we were lying on my bed. We were close and his arms were wrapped around me. He said, "this is happiness to you." I didn't realize at the time how much truth there is to that. That night was calm, quiet, peaceful, simple, familiar, comfortable, and absence of any complexities that normally burden me.

It didn't carry any of the energy I felt at the party. The party was invigorating, new, exciting, and intense, but it was also a world I didn't belong in. There was no place for me there. No one knew me. No one saw me. No one felt me. I was a part of something greater than myself. It's important to have those kinds of experiences, but I couldn't find happiness in it. Maybe as I get older and do something meaningful by my contributions but not at a social event where I'm merely there to observe.

It was just a painfully contrasting experience of what I don't have and what I want - happiness. I don't require anything elaborate. I can only find happiness in a familiar setting because I couldn't relax in any other environment. There's comfort and peace in that. It's intimate and personal.

So why do you suppose my imagination led me back to that? I'm saddened by what's been lost. I don't try not to think about it, but I guess I haven't been dealing with it like I thought. Who the Hell wants to think about those things? The more it crosses my mind, the more ashamed I am to have fallen for him. When I think about how long I've known him for it seems extreme, my feelings for him. It seems too soon. Perception aside, it is what it is.

Days Just Pass Me By, "Day 86"

I'm days behind on my post and not because I'm neglectful or leaving it to the last minute. But I've been processing and functioning at a much slower level lately. So I begin blogging at night, and by the time I make a substantial amount of progress, it's midnight. I become too tired to proofread by 1 am. My days begin later than I would like. I'm lethargic and bordering incoherent. It just feels like days pass me by.

Clearly something has to change. My energy level is crashed, so I need to be more nutritious. I don't have the opportunity to hydrate myself as much as I'd like to. My energy is drained from living in a messy environment, which is my own fault. I've just been so tired that I'm unable to organize anything, which is just perpetuating the problem. I spend more time trying to locate one object than I do to ensure that I nourish myself. By the time I find something, I have no time to eat or tend to other responsibilities. It gives me no drive.

Procrastination has been my addiction since last semester perhaps. I've never experienced this before. I have had moments in my educational career when I didn't hand in assignments, but I studied in my own time. I've been doing nothing! I haven't even been indulging in my imaginative, escapist mentality. I just feel like I'm frozen in time, while time is in a parallel universe speeding by.

Purple is Mystical, "Day 85"

I went to Venice Beach yesterday. It was totally last minute and even beginning to feel like it wasn't the most practical course of action. My friend and I wanted to hit the beach, but we didn't leave until almost five pm! Plus, my face is still burned and chronically flaky dry. Not to mention that my legs still have that skin allergy rash, so I haven't shaved in weeks. Sorry to over share. But if I have to deal with the burden, so do you. Sharing is caring. :) My point is that I wasn't at all prepared for the beach. The traffic was awful, and getting there was a major hassle. We were originally going to hit up a spiritual bookstore. We even drove by it as we were trying to get to the beach. I suppose the logical course of action would've been to lounge at the bookstore, save gas instead of sit in traffic for a plan that won't work out because we can't stop the sun from setting. I considered the possibility of making such a suggestion, but something held me back. And I couldn't be happier!

As we were walking by, I came across a PURPLE HOUSE! And you know how I'm a fanatic of purple. I "asked" and by ask I mean politely demanded that my friend take a picture of me in front of it. I didn't put that much thought into what it was or anything. But I realized that it was someone's place as I appeared like I was going to barge in. I wasn't going to, though.

The guy was really cool and friendly. He introduced himself. He took a picture of my friend and me in the purple house. He's a really interesting person, and I'm glad to have met him. He showed us around and we had some bomb Mediterranean food. Later he treated us to tea, too. We had such a good time that we didn't leave until the next day!

We had a bunch of interesting conversations. He thought I was a gemini. He's a gemini, and I suppose I have some gemini qualities. We're both communicators, vocal, opinionated, and open, so it made for really intriguing conversations. It's refreshing and cool to have someone to talk to who isn't afraid to oppose me. I have friends like that, but it was just more productive with him.

I really appreciated his observation that he could tell I'm not the most open person, but it's obvious that I'm trying. It's a habit I've been practicing shortly, so it was really touching to see a stranger noticing that about me. It was cool because he said he liked hanging out with me since he felt he could learn from me.

It was also great for my friend, too, because she was guarded at first even though she didn't feel it. She's been working on trying to be less floaty and having someone to talk to about her own culture with really helped. I'm glad that she began openly up and talking with him more. It was an amazing experience for both of us.

Purple is mystical. :) And I might have found a place to wear my gorgeous Betsey Johnson dress! I also came home with great treats. I'm really beginning to realize that not everything has to be practical and logical. There's value and benefit in just trusting yourself and your intuition.

I'm a progress at work. I've spent most of my life trying to be someone and something I'm not: detached, cold, and absent of any feelings. You can only be someone you're not for so long. It's bullshit when people say that you can't be someone you're not. You totally can and sometimes it becomes you, whether you like it or not. Other times it'll only last for so long until you turn back into a pumpkin.

With that said, I developed certain traits my persona carried. I'm organized, strategic, calculating, high functional, operational, and I have the ability to be objective. It suffocated and was killing a side of me, a side I want nothing more than to possess: creativity. I'm a pisces. I was born left-handed. I should be and want to be creative, emotional, intuitive, and flowing of energy, not stagnant, restrictive, fearful, and emotionally-detached. I used to take pride in the qualities I've refined, but I'm starting to see the damage it's causing. So it's hard for me to appreciate it.

My new friend made me realize something, though. He said I want 20 points, instead of 10. On the one hand, I'm organized and intelligent. That brings me to 7 or 10 points. I shouldn't lose those points. I should hold onto them, while I develop my creativity on the other side. Most people only have 10 points. I can shoot for higher. It was important for me to hear that.

Another friend of mine and I are planning to take violin classes next semester. I'm really looking forward to that. I believe that'll help. I've been creatively stifled and it's harming me. But I truly believe that I'm moving towards the direction I'm meant to go. It all started last year as something in me was beginning to shift. I didn't know what it was. As these changes started to occur, I attracted people who could help me to transform into someone I'm meant to be but have been afraid of for so long.

There's one person who's changed my life. Sometimes I think about how long we've known each other, and it's crazy to think how much he's touched me. I used to have this rigid notion that someone who you haven't known for very long can't possibly affect you in that way. But he has. So I should get over the trip and accept it for what it is because it is what it is. That's a comforting advice from another friend who's also shared some wisdom that I know will change my life and has, to a degree, changed me.

I was told that I need more girls in my life because I need to have people in my life who I can relate to. Most of my friends are guys, and I've never clicked much with girls. One night I had a breakdown breakthrough, and he suggested that I follow through and explore the emotional process by talking to my roommate. I was told to tell her EVERYTHING! I was surprised that I did, and it was amazing!

I started to see value in his insights, so much so that it prompted me to make those changes. I asked a friend to "hook me up" with this one girl friend of his. When he first met her, he actually expressed that she did want to have girl friends. I wasn't against it, but I wasn't as open to it, wondering if I'd be able to click with her. My friend must've on some level sensed it because he never brought it up again until I did.

I just met the girl, but we click really well. We went to see the meteor shower, and she actually admitted to me that she felt this connection between us. That's real cool. It feels like my life is starting to fall into place. My breakdown breakthroughs have brought me closer to my goal: to open up and be emotionally-connected. I have these amazing friends who have come into my life to help me through this. I thank you all. Hope I can offer what you've all done for me.

The Crystal House, "Day 84"

Lately I've been going out and doing stuff, but it isn't the usual stuff. It's not hanging out with friends, eating out, watching movies, or anything typical. Whatever perception typical carries. I've been to spiritual retreats, had deja vus, and meaningful and symbolic premonitions that have led to unique experiences unlike any other. I went to what's described as a Crystal House filled with spiritualists. It's a beautiful and uniquely energized home filled with crystals that attract spiritualists.

Each week offers a new and exciting experience. My friend has had the pleasure of reiki treatment one week and aura picture reading in another. Since we arrived so late, we only witnessed an interesting debate about how much influence we have over our own destiny. I was hypnotized by the generous crystal collection. I spent the rest of the evening talking to the woman who opens her home up. She shared her stories behind what led her to this spiritual experience.

Arriving so late I was unable to get a picture reading of my aura because the camera was already shut off. Apparently you place your head on a machine connected to a monitor that displays colors that represent your aura. I became excitedly obssessed by the idea of knowing my aura. I was suggested to talk to another woman who reads chakras.

This is also the same woman who wore this stunning necklace. It looked familiar and felt like it carried history. My focus just got consumed by that accessory. I'm not sure why. After a while, some of the people present felt familiar and comfortable. It wasn't quite a deja vu, though. That entire evening was interesting. As I saw the house, I felt a powerful connection to it before I even knew which house we were going to. Then the woman wearing the necklace looked familiar, but that feeing was quickly replaced by the necklace I couldn't help be intrigued by.

Another interesting experience I had of her was that she felt different to me than the others who were there. I'm still not sure why. I felt like she was powerful and connected. My focus went towards the source of her power. It didn't feel pure, but it didn't feel dangerous, either. It actually triggered a conversation I had with a friend. He said that I should be careful with experimenting with witchcraft because I have powers, and I can do some harm since it comes from a dark source. I've always had this dark fascination to the craft contained by a sense of undefined hesitation. I'm cautious about the idea of harnessing my powers, but I don't fear my premonitions, although I do believe that it comes from the same source. My friend explained that my visions come from the same dark place, but I have to learn to control it because it's a part of me. No one said I have to use it for something bad.

That memory disconnected me from the woman briefly. As I returned to the present, I felt soft energy and an absence of danger. I beieve that it's possible her powers come from a dark source or has been contaminated in something dark, but she transcended beyond that. I don't know if that's true or not, but something in me focused on her because she was familiar. I find that curious.

Anyways, I asked her to read my chakra. She said my root chakra is fine. For the first time in my life, I have a strong basic foundation. I was surprised because experience has unfavored the structure and solidity of my foundation. Yet I wasn't surprised by this assessment. My saccral chakra is blocked. I was suggested to draw or paint because I'm creatively stifled. Very accurate. As she began exploring my solar plexus, I felt her reaction, a strong sense of knowingness and unbreakable certainty. She said, "God, do you laugh?" Except it was asked in a rhetorical sense with an apparent understanding that the answer is no. I've actually been intentionally excluded from comedy houses because my silent laughter as I call it made others uncomfortable. My roommate joked that she's going to tutor me on funny, and I'm looking forward to beginning those lessons. On some level, I knew that my inability to recognize and function properly in a humorous setting was stifling somehow, but I didn't know it affected me so deeply. I was also suggested to sing as a way to be less in my head. I have to spend more time with the trees, which really spoke to me because active meditation is most beneficial for me. I actually like walking in an isolated area surrounded by trees. She said that I should trust my heart more, that it's important. I also have to stand up for myself. She emphasized the importance of quieting my mind and minimizing my anxiety because I need to refine my emotional control. I have an active third eye, which means that I'm intuitive and am clairvoyant. I get visions through sight, but it's important because it's activated that I learn to reduce anxiety and not overthink as a way to anchor my emotions. She stresseed that a lot. She said that or else it's like a stack of bricks slamming down, and it's too much. She said all I need to do for my anxiety is to breathe more. Even in the next week or two, I should be more conscientious of my breathing.

A friend of mine and the most laid-back person I know suggested breathing exercises for me on a day I was having difficulty managing the overload of visions I was getting. It's interesting because I was experiencing a dizzying amount of visions of him, through him, because of him. The very source that triggered this was also the same source that neutralized it and recommended breathing exercises. I can feel his emotional openness and receptivity. It was the process he used that led him to the same suggestion the spiritualist recommended.

It was great to hear that from a stranger because I felt more secure in the idea of believing in my visions. Everything she said was dead on. She also observed that my friend and I are opposites, which is why we have a balancing effect on each other and why we're so close. That was exciting and interesting to hear because we did bond quickly and we do have a friendship, but that was the second time we hung out. The spiritualist sensed this strong, lasting and existing friendship in us, but we just started hanging out. That was really inspiring and awesome.

So I'm going to put the effort to draw or paint. I can only afford to draw at this point in my life, but I'm attracted to the idea of painting. I have a couple visions already in mind. I'm also going to sing more. As soon as my dry skin heals, I'm going to take more walks along a trail by my apartment that's surrounded by trees. Breathing exercises frighten me, but that's something I'll have to face. I didn't have a spiritual experience; I had a spiritual intervention, but I hope to have one soon.

Built to Survive, Day 83

I had been looking forward to last night for a week. I was filled with anticipation, excitement, and enthusiasm that just washed over me. The instant I saw the space, I fell in love and I just knew that poetry night was going to be a powerful experience for me. I became consumed by it. I mass emailed a bunch of people who I wanted to see there. I was disappointed to receive a bunch of I can't make it emails, and I was particularly disappointed by two friends, but mostly one friend who wasn't able to make it. If there was one thing I was certain about I thought he'd be there.

It didn't help that I had premonitions about that night. I saw a couple of visions wherein one of my friend wasn't there but another friend was in all of those premonitions, so I was certain he was going to be there. I'm not really sure why I felt he had to be there. I awkwardly showed up with rice paper for spring rolls thinking that he would be there only to constantly lose it leaving the trail of an odd Asian girl in what I can only describe as black society.

Virtually everyone who knows me knows that I'm not racist. I roll with everyone. I grew up in San Francisco. I have traditional Japanese parents. I lived in a Russian neighborhood. I know more about Russian culture and spoke Russian more than I did my own native tongue. Hell, my Russian friends' parents spoke to me in Russian subconsciously but spoke English to their own blood. A dialog would go one for about ten minutes before any of us realized what was happening. My first foster home was a black family. I lived with my Mexican friend's family for a while. I lived with my then boyfriend's Nicaraguan family. I found a home with Auntie Glo and Uncle Charlie (Filipinos). I'm friends with everyone - whites, blacks, Asians, Latinos, Middle Easterners. I know that co-existing among other races doesn't make me a part of it. But I've been exposed to everyone for so long and felt at home with all of them that I was surprised and ashamed of myself for feeling out of place there.

I quickly became disappointed by the absence of my friends. But not shortly after I realized how influential they were for me. I've always thought of myself as independent, able to stand on my own. I didn't think my overall mood could diminish because I'm alone. I go into environments all the time whereI don't have the presence of my friends, and I leave after developing new friendships. But here, I quickly felt out of place as if I was invading a territory I didn't belong in and I felt uncomfortable. That was the worst feeling for me.

I was in a roomful of black people, and I felt uncomfortable. The perception of feeling uncomfortable, which I associate with fear, was occurring around black people who are perceived as being dangerous, a threat. It made me feel guilty, ashamed, confused, and disappointed in myself. Did I really fall into social bigotry? I thought I was above all of that. The emotional overload was becoming too much. As I was preparing to leave, the woman hosting the show asked if I was leaving. She could sense my discomfort and tried to alleviate it. She asked kindly if I felt out of place. I openly admitted that I did. I felt guilty admitting that because I was essentially revealing that I felt uncomfortable in a roomful of black people, but she was really understanding and sweet.

I ultimately decided to stay. I'm conflicted about my experience there. Overall, the energy and vibe was amazing! The poetry was really a work of art, musical, and most of all powerful. There was one woman who was introducing each poet, and she just had a magnificent presence about her. She was like refreshing sunshine and it brought light and security. It really put me at ease.

The poets expressed some meaningful, symbolic, and powerful messages. It was truly touching. I didn't agree with every belief system, but overall there was a sense of passion that I can respect. One woman, one proud Black woman, wrote poetry about herself as a proud black woman. She took the time to share that she saw people of all races there and that it represents any and all proud women. I really respected her inclusiveness. Poems are meant to be personal. You should feel connected to it, and of course you're going to draw on your own experiences. She is a proud black woman, so her poem projected that. It was beautiful.

That's the kind of presence and energy I want to be exposed to. But I suppose bad seeds exist in all places. There was this one black guy that really dampened the evening for me. His poems were passionate, well-written, and undeniably the work of an artist, but he was a racist fucking asshole! The evening gets kicked off with everyone grabbing a word from a bag. We're given the choice to go up on stage and express what that word means to us. I can't remember his word, but he began talking about how blacks have to stick together and not in a culturally-strengthening sense but from an exclusivist's point of view.

He began expressing rage and anger towards white America and how they were trying to take him down after talking about the destruction and damage that racism perpetuates, he goes and ignites a fire of his own. He also spews his disapproval of interracial relationships even to the hinted degree that interactions among other races is damaging to any culture. I was overwhelmed by how conflicted I felt about his position. I felt saddened by this narrow-minded mentality and what he's missing out on, while I simultaneously disapproved of his unacceptable racism. It wasn't just my imagination, either, because the same woman who was trying to comfort me looked over at me as this guy was poisoning the energy around me to make sure I was okay.

I didn't notice it at the time, but when I began feeling uncomfortable and I felt a sense of violation, I was actually in close proximity to him. I was picking up on his emotions. I was even warned that I have to be careful about my empathetic abilities because I may begin to feel and experience things I don't understand. I have to learn to be more aware of where it comes from, so I'm not burdened by it. This experience demonstrated the realness of that.

I even texted my only two friends who were planning to arrive that they not show for the very reason that they're white. They're grown adults, and I don't want to make the decision for them to not appear. They would've disagreed with his position but have the ability to maintain their composure. However, the guy talking shit is easily the type of person who would approach them to trigger confrontation. That would've resulted in an unpleasant experience for everyone. So I asked them to not come. It made me feel awful to be in a position that even requires me to make such considerations and evaluation.

A passionate, beautiful, sexy, confident woman and artist recited a poem about her ascendance from being an abused victim to confronting it. I felt her essence, and it was the most powerful experience. It's been a long time since I've thought about my experiences with abusive boyfriends. I've always heard people say that once you experience something like that it stays with you and it never goes away. I feel like that's the natural way, but I left that or I thought I did when it was over. Her poem reminded me of my own experiences and surfaced a lot of emotional blockage I didn't even know I had. I started boiling of rage, fear, inadequacy, resentment, strength, confusion, superiority, inferiority, past errors, pain, desire, relief, and so much more.

I believe I was meant to be there to experience exactly what I experienced, the dark fear that haunts me and my past experiences that keep it alive. I would've never been able to do that if my friends were there because I would've distracted myself the way I always do. I socialize because I'm afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I feel a sense of false security, distraction, and support when I'm surrounded by my friends. My energy is stabilized by them. I wouldn't have been able to immerse myself with the contrasting energies that invaded me and release the toxic negativity I've held onto for so long.

I didn't perform. I'm still not confident as a writer which is so different from a poet. You don't have to be an artist to be a writer. Poets are artists, always. I'm not human enough to consider myself a poet. And I'm not going to lie. The lyrical, rhythmic black poets intimidated me. My underdeveloped progress as a writer exploring the realm of poets with no rhythm filled me with a sense of inadequacy and fear.

But I realized something there. I may never be confident as an artist, but what's important is to not allow my fears to control me. I want to become the type of person who will go up there and recite a poem to liberate myself from the clutches of fear. I don't embarrass easily. I'm just afraid to get started. Deep down, I don't think people will turn their nose at my poem. It's just an irrational fear that prevents me from departing with the negativity that's practically been worn as second skin.

I was mesmerized by the poets. I found comfort in what one poetist said. Poets are tortured souls. That really resonated in me and made me feel more at home with something I love. I've always felt like writing is a world that belongs to the introverts. I'm an extrovert. I co-exist in a world outside of my reality surrounded by people completely separate from myself. I love it, but I've always felt out of place because I don't possess the very qualities that define and produce an artist. But I am a tortured soul. I've gone through so much crap, and I'll continue to because I have a heavy burden of toxic karma I carry with me. All of the awful things I've done in a past life is coming back to haunt me. Those are the very experiences that create writers. So as it turns out, I do belong in this world. I was born through my pain, and I'm built to survive.

A Manifestion of Emotions Through Allergies, Day 82

My body's been screaming at me lately, and all I've done is ignore it. It began with a chronic cough. After a month of ignoring that, my arms and legs broke out in a gnarly rash. It's like my body knows that I'll ignore it, so it's finding new ways to make me pay attention. It just keeps getting worse and worse. Okay, now I'm listening. But my body's gotten used to extreme reactions that I can't shut it off.

I finally got the rashes checked out. I have an extreme case of allergies, not food allergies, just allergies. The itchiness was so intense that I got an infection. I had to take antibiotics for the infection and allergy meds. I completely crashed. I became weak, slow, and incoherent. After a week of that, the meds finally kicked in and the rash is starting to minimize.

With all this commotion over my skin, I started to neglect the original symptom - a cough, which went away with my allergy meds. I held off on taking prescription cough syrup in hopes that the oral allergy meds would alleviate the problem, and it did. But around the time that it treated the cough, I began experiencing chest pain.

It started Sunday. It was a slight discomfort that I only noticed when I ate or drank. After four consecutive sips or small bites, I would feel a little pressure. I only noticed it because I don't usually feel that way when I eat. But other than that, it was mild. It's gotten so much worse, which makes it sound more intense than it is. I feel this pressure all the time now, and it makes eating and hydrating an unpleasant experience and one I've began avoiding. Clearly not the best course of action.

It got so bad that I haven't slept properly for the past couple of days because lying down applies too much pressure on my chest. Part of me wonders if I'm making the discomfort worse by being conscientious of it. Burping seems to relieve it temporarily, but I could barely do that. In the midst of the rash, I totally forgot about the chest x-rays I was supposed to have done. But now I'm getting really scared because I was terrified when I first heard chest x-rays.

It's a common procedure after having a chronic cough for as long as I have. Procedures don't usually frighten me, and the way I quickly "forgot" about it makes me wonder if I'm subconsciously trying to avoid it because I fear what the results will uncover. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating about this whole thing. Maybe my body is just doing this as a way to force me to follow through on a basic procedure.

Either possibility is plausible until I get the chest x-ray and I find some answers. If I'm subconsciously fearful for something valid, I need to rush to get this done. If my body is just crying wolf, by addressing it, hopefully it'll go away. I keep wondering why such extreme reactions are occurring within my body, and then something hit me. My friend checked up on me yesterday to make sure I was okay, even though he knew I was working which would imply that I'm okay because as he put it,"I have my ups and downs throughout the day."

It was an accurate description of how I've been for the past couple of weeks, but it was such an odd analogy for allergies. That sounds more like a manic he's talking about. Then it hit me. Maybe this is my body's way of emotionally reacting. Maybe that's why it's sporadic, random, intense, extreme, and unpredictable. They have all of the characteristics that emotions and feelings carry.

I thought I was doing "okay", okay being a relative term. I accept it. Sometimes thoughts float by. Then they leave. Other times I was telling my roommate how I feel absent of feelings, and it's weird. I guess it doesn't seem natural. I thought I wasn't intentionally suppressing emotions, but maybe I am? (As I was proofreading my writing, I found that I didn't type wasn't in the previous sentence. I wrote out: I thought I WAS intentionally suppressing emotions).

Today my skin is raw red and flaking dry. I have no idea why it's like this. On Monday my face swelled up pink and I couldn't open my left eye. I started to recover as I was talking to my roommate and beginning to feel better about concerns in my life. That correlates with my theory that these allergies are a manifestation of feelings I've been ignoring or avoiding. I suppose awareness of this is the first step, but I don't know how to fix it.

I came home today and the instant I walked in, she asked if I was okay. I felt off, but I can't define it. I still can't, so I lied to her and said everything was fine only to realize that my face is super red. Even if I can't understand why I feel whatever I feel, I think it's important to be aware of it. She said she could "feel" that something was wrong with me. How can others know this about me before I do? Am I really that emotionally-inept? And has it become so problematic that I'll continue to have these types of manifestations?

My allergy meds have left me emotionally dead and I'm detached from my visions. A mild annoyance with a friend of mine suspended all of my premonitions, and that surprises me. It scares me that he has that kind of power over me, but it was a learning experience. I have known for a while that I'm connected to him and in ways I wish I wasn't at this point in my life, but a suspension over something so trivial is telling. As much as I hate my visions and wish they would go away, I felt like a piece of me was missing when they were gone. Yet I did feel more calmer and peaceful, but it was still unnatural. I'm going to learn have to co-exist in the midst of visions that slam, thrash, or calmly enter my world unexpectedly. I have to find the center of my hurricane because I can't be someone I'm not. I'm not a girl without visions. Sometimes I wish I were, but that's all it is - a wish.

I think it's time I try and set up a session with an acupuncturist friend of mine. If this is an emotional glitch, I can't think of a better person to help me with this. But I hate the idea of asking for his help, even though this is his job and he needs the business. We've been trying to hang out since spring, but fucker's always so busy. I have these visions about who he can be to me or could've been, and I think most of it has passed. Those possibilities no longer exist in this reality because of other events that have occurred. But I'm disappointed by the idea that we finally make time to "hang out" when I need him. My visions suggest something so much more meaningful than that.

I Miss That, Day 81

I wish I can go back to that place. No, I wish I can go to that place now, not the past but the present. As these thoughts seep into my mind and mingles with my heart, my eyes water and tears trickle down, burning my face. I remember to myself that not feeling is the worst feeling. Not comforted by this reality but almost becoming comfortable in this pain because it’s the only time I feel something real, pure and raw. It’s the one place where I can be free and the closest I can now come to feeling safe.

I Wish Upon a Star, Day 80

Last night I had a lot of fun. My friends came over and we had a good time. A friend of mine wanted to surprise another friend of ours with food from her home country, Germany. She's been missing tuna pizza. Yes, tuna pizza. Weird, right? It was really sweet and considerate of him to surprise her with something like that, and he treated everyone. It was much appreciated.

I have this gorgeous amethyst cluster tunnel that's SO HUGE you can fit your head into it! ^_^ I tested it out. So has my roommate and now my friend who came over last night did. A couple mind in the gutter jokes were expressed. :) Anyways......we had some interesting food and coerced an unsuspecting innocent to eat a pickled garlic, and she's only heard of pickled cucumbers. Maybe I shouldn't have rushed her into something so intense. Well, what's done is done! My other friend was sick, so he decided to give his colloidal water a try. It has a really interesting flavor and texture to it. Each person who tried it started acting like we were drugged up. It was pretty funny, but I guess you had to be there. Whatever! I had fun! We had fun!

Instead of playing card games, which I'm actually glad we didn't do because I wasn't exactly in a card game mood, we listened to some poetry instead. I liked that. That jived more with my energy that day. Then we went to see shooting stars! ^_^ It was interesting convincing a friend to go because he's been feeling a little under the weather and needed to get up early the next day. (I hope he's doing well today). He brought his bike, so I brought up the possibility that he might try to escape after we peer pressured him into going. I casually mentioned what a drag it would be to have to swoop him off of his bike from a truck. He said he'd come quietly after I made such a statement. :) I'm good!

It was my first meteor shower, and I saw ten shooting stars! It was so amazing! It was an adventure in it of itself to get there. I brought my two pillows. The three of us bundled up with a sleeping bag and laid on a beach towel. It was so freezing that I wanted to be sandwiched. I encouraged them to get inappropriately close. :P Not inappropriate behavior, inappropriate proximity. Body heat. Ya dig?

It was cool. We decided to lay in the middle, which seemed to make sense in theory. We thought we could see the whole sky, but I guess we should've just picked a left or right corner. Some people would fake seeing something. It was curious how each side cohesively collaborated in either their honesty or dishonesty. We were convinced each corner thought the center people were nuts because we missed so much. We probably missed a good five of them just because we were taking pictures. We weren't able to angle it properly, so a lot of trial and error went into it. But I'm proud to say that I was in all of those pictures, cute and ready for the camera! The picture whore that is me! ^_^

I gotta get those pics and upload it onto my facebook. It's a memory I want to preserve. That night I wasn't worried about my allergies, my health, my financial concerns, my living situation, or other injustices I feel I suffer. I was just a girl hanging out with her friends, having a new experience. But it was still very much a human experience, so a moment of weakness did float by and it passed. I missed him. I wondered what it would've been like to lay on a blanket with him, watching those stars. Would I have enjoyed that? Probably. But I was with my friends instead, and that worked well, too! I just knew that these feelings will come and go, but I'll be okay. My mind will wander, and that's okay.

My Heart Bleeds for Her, Day 79

I finally met someone that I've really bonded with and care for and not in a romantic capacity. I found an unbiological sister. Most of my friends are guys. I don't really bond with girls or even know that many of them. My friends are my family, but I've always been so reserved. Some of my close friends know the private, intimate details of my life, but that's usually because they figured it out. She's the first person I truly opened up to and not in a narrative sort of way. She pretty much knows all of my darkest secrets. I have a sister.

So my heart bleeds for her, to see her go through this pain. But it's necessary. The cold, detached side of me and the tough love in me knows it's ultimately a good thing. The human side of me aches for her. There's nothing anyone can do to comfort her. In fact, that's the worst thing someone can do. I hate the idea that the best way to help her is to have her focus on exactly what hurts her.

How do I help someone who's in pain when that's exactly what they have to go through? I know this is the right thing, and so does she. But I hate that she has to go through this because I know what it's going to be like for her. I went through it; I am going through it. The pain will be unimaginable, spurious yet constant, and perpetuating. I can barely keep it together myself, and now I'm worried for her. I just hope I can be there for her even if I can't deal with my own pain.

I Feel Like a Part of Me is Missing, Day 78

I got a little upset at my friend. I've been having this chronic cough for some time now, and it's annoying when I only see you once a week to hear you say generic comments like, "Are you contaminating the food?" or "You have the plague." Blah blah blah. If I barely see you and I consider your behavior to be mostly annoying, I develop a one-sided image of you. I know he's a good person and he's caring, but those aspects start drown away. Plus I've had this obnoxious cough for a while. You don't think everyone's bugged me about those things? To him, he's just one person who says it for a few hours out of the week. But for me he's an accumulation.

Quite frankly, I got used to the comments. His stifling remarks have just become background noise for a month now. But the last time I saw him I was more susceptible to annoyance because I was medicated. I felt so weak that I couldn't even close a bottle. Forget about opening the thing. Ugh! He distinctly noticed me being weak. I was first my social, chatty self until I took my next dose. Even a friend who was visiting noticed that.

I wasn't able to help him the way I normally do, which was painfully obvious seeing how I could barely carry my own weight. I know it's not helpful when I'm not being productive. But it's not like I was deliberately being unhelpful because he was annoying me, which is apparently how he expressed it to someone else. That really bothered me because he usually gives me a ride home and articulated his concerns about me taking the bus home alone at night.

If the idea of taking the bus home alone at night is such a concern for you, why would you intentionally leave me behind because you interpreted my actions as directly correlated to my mood and interaction with you? I was really disappointed and hurt by that. Or I would've been if I wasn't so medicated. I thought the distance would be good for us, and I felt perfectly safe taking the bus home. So I did that.

I didn't realize how much this affected me. I'm usually getting 24/7 premonitions about this friend. It's sort of annoying. But since that night, my premonitions have suspended completely. Who knew he had that kind of affect on me? That's pretty powerful stuff. My meds have already altered it as it is. I actually started getting less premonitions of him, and as much as I ranted about how intrusive those visions of him were, I started to miss them. Yes, I have psychic co-dependency issues. Wow, just wow.

Ever since I started getting premonitions, all I kept saying was how much I hate them and how I wish they would go away. They aren't helpful. They just give me more reasons to be confused and burdened by, as if this emotionally-inept girl doesn't have enough of those challenges on her own without supernatural assistance. But since my powers got suspended, I feel like a part of me is missing. I mean, it's quieter and calmer up there, which is nice. But it doesn't feel like me. It's unnatural.

I felt like the way to resolve this is by making amends with my friend. But the stubbornness in me didn't want to do that because I do want an acupuncture session with him. I hate the idea of being so annoyed with him and being transparent about that. Then apologizing only after I realize how much this affects my powers. Also, by the way, can I also get a session with you? I feel like it's so self-serving to put aside my differences for a personal convenience factor. I hate that. Plus I'm not ready to accept that he up and ditched me because I upset him. Yeah, I think I'm overreacting, but I can't deny that this is how I feel.

UPDATE: We just missed each other. He waited for me but saw that I left. That was the only thing holding me back.

Life Happens, Day 77

For better or worse, life is what it is for me. It doesn't matter if I'm excitedly happy or suicidally depressed. Life happens. It never stops and will keep going until I die. But if you ask me, life continues and maybe even begins more after death. I'll leave that speculation there, though, because that's not here in the now.

Here in the now, I hate where I live because of the people who hold the power. I'm upset because a socially inept, mentally retarded foreigner who can barely communicate yields the power to determine where I lay my head at night. I shouldn't have to tell someone that this eviction notice with the reason I'm psychologically and emotionally troubled isn't legal because you're not qualified! I don't see a court approved psychiatrist validating this. School's not going well. Money's tighter than it should be. My allergies have taken over my life. My meds make me feel like I'm possessed by laziness that flirts with death. I wish things were different.

I feel all of these things, and they're valid. But these valid desires can only carry me for so long. After a certain point I just have to accept that life happens and will continue on even if I want it to stop or end. It won't. And my life is a roller coaster. I wish it weren't, but I'm where I'm at. All I can do is make the best of it. What are my choices? Be a part of it or die trying to escape it.

Day 75 and 76

Obviously there was no blog on these days. i was heavily medicated and incoherent. I still am, but I plan to blog today because I don't find it acceptable or excusable to neglect this blog, something, I've committed to simply because it's a challenge. I feel like maybe I should surrender this time. I have to know when it's best to step down, but I don't want to. Besides, being too weak to express the burdens of my life isn't my way. If I don't release it somehow,some way it gets trapped in me. Even if freeing it is a pain, it's worse to keep it in. So today I'm ready to rip!

Day 74

Today I didn't go to school. My meds make me loopy. I do have thoughts I want to express, but I'm not going to tonight. Good night!

The Doctor Visit, Day 73

I went to my doctor's appointment today. I was so freaked out. I even considered ditching. But the more I contemplated the idea of not going, the more real the idea that something really is wrong plagued me. Is that something I can afford to ignore? It was one thing when I didn't have the financial resources to be told that something was wrong. I do feel that everything happens for a reason. It's been so long since I've had money that wasn't designated to a rigid budget that I'm sort of bummed out that it got spent on something so boring and technical. But it doesn't change the fact that clearly this can't go ignored.

A cough that people have become accustomed to is entirely different from a rash that's spreading like wildfire all over my skin. When I can't even manage to get to school in a timely fashion and I live across the street because I'm too busy itching, it's a problem. I look like I should be quarantined. The rash on my face swelled up so badly that it was hurting me last night. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to open my eyes to make it to the doctor's office. That's not something that should go ignored.

I have had a case of skin allergies in the past before but not quite like this. It took me a couple months to get over it, and I had to hide my legs. This is completely different, though. it's been confirmed that the rash all over my skin now is allergies. I've been prescribed allergy medications and antibiotics for the infection. -____- I take both meds every eight hours. Fun!

There's a couple of disconcerting information. The fact that my cough has lasted as long as it has followed by a rash can mean a number of things according to my physician. He says it's urgent to get a chest x-ray, which scares me the most. But he's telling me to not worry too much about the cough or the chest x-ray, as the cough is starting to subside. The main concern at the moment is the rash that should be addressed immediately. Since he wants me to spend the least amount of money possible, he's hoping that the allergy medication for my skin will relieve my chronic cough. If it doesn't, then I'll have to buy prescription cough medicine.

I, unlike others, dislike the idea of being heavily medicated. I don't like the loopy feeling. I like being in control. I'm no longer attached to my thoughts, but I don't like the idea of being hostage to chemical substances, either. God, you know what I just realized? If I wasn't so afraid of losing control, I'd be a bad ass with drugs.

Anyways, I have allergy meds that I took at 8 pm. I have to take them every 8 hours. I should've taken it at 10 pm, but now I have to wake up at 4 am to take another dose. Ugh! I have to take my next dose of antibiotics at 2 am. Can you say unstable sleep pattern? Luckily, my friend is going to text or call me at 4 am. Hopefully, I can stay awake until 2 am. I really should've taken the meds a couple hours later. Oh well.....

The meds run the risk of making me super drowsy. I hope I'll wake up in time for my chem class because I was given a deadline to take all of those accumulated quizzes by today, but I've had trouble logging into it. I haven't gotten a chance to get that resolved. I emailed my poetry professor who was adamant that I stay home until I get better. She even seemed against me hanging out with my friend who can hand in my homework assignments for me. Whatever, though! At least I'm covered in her class.

I'm Really Terrified, Please Help Me, Day 72

Words can't express the fear I'm experiencing at this time. I've had this chronic dry cough for over a month. It started around the first fire, so I thought the fire triggered it. But now it's no longer a valid reasoning. It makes more sense if it's allergies especially since I have intense bouts of sneezes, too. I'm clearly not contagious because I have a ton of roommates and am exposed to a lot of people. No one else seems to be getting sick.

I resisted going to the doctor because I genuinely wasn't concerned about it. Plus the cough has started to minimize in intensity. But my friends, one in particular, has finally convinced me about the urgency of going. Part of me made the appointment just to shut him up, but I'm starting to get really scared. I'm not usually afraid of going to the doctor, which worries me that maybe something is wrong with me. Why else would I be terrified about something that never scared me before? Is this why I have avoided going for so long, and I've busied myself to not face my feelings and fears behind my procrastination?

It isn't an obnoxiously loud cough that scares me, though, although maybe it should. I just started getting this severe rash all over my skin, and it's spreading like wildfire. I believe I started getting it Wednesday night. Friday night I was completely panicked, desperately trying to convince my friend that my skin feels uneven as though the rash is spreading. It wasn't very visible, but I could feel it because I know my skin.

A moment of weakness and vulnerability washed over me. I wish he (not my friend I was hanging out with but someone else) was there. He told me one day that he would be able to recognize my face just through touch because he's touched it so many times to recognize it. (Is that really what casual is to him? Either he's lying, or I wonder what serious is to him). I wanted someone who knew my face well like that to see if the rash was spreading, but mostly I missed him. It's annoying, desperate, and lame that I think of him at any opportunity. It's creepy! I want it to go away! I bet he's able to move on with his life. Why can't I do that?

Back to my point, I'm really scared. What is this? By yesterday it was undoubtedly spreading, and I have rashes over my eyelids. What I'm afraid of is what if it gets so severe that I can't open my eyes? Obviously I'll have to go to the doctor's then. But how will I get there? This isn't normal. What am I so afraid of discovering? I'm more afraid of what I'll learn than my eyelids being shut.

I'm the One Who's Never the One, Day 71

I hate to hear girls bitch that no one likes them. It feels so bleak, self-pitying, exaggerated, one-sided, and takes on a self-defeatist tone. But after an established pattern exists, it'd be neglectful to ignore the possibility that you're a factor in this equation. He was right when he said that after a while it's time that I stop looking at others and look within myself.

It seems like I'm the one who's never the one. Most of my friends are guys. They treat me and act like I'm one of the guys. They call me James for short. On occasion I'll meet someone who's interested in having sex but not in pursuing a relationship with me.

I went dancing with a friend last night. He said he had a hard time believing that I don't have a boyfriend because I'm pretty, I'm interesting, and I'm smart. He questioned whether I socialize or not, even though he knows I do. That's how much he was in disbelief. He assumed that guys at least find me sexually attractive. Very rarely. Then he just assumed that I reject guys but that they're there. Wrong again. Yet what I find interesting is that he's in disbelief because when he first met me he wanted to sleep with me, but he admitted that he never liked me. That still rings true. So why is it so hard to believe that other guys carry the same perspective? He thinks I can't find someone who's looking for the same things as me because I'm limiting my exposure to guys who are exclusively sexual, and he suggested that I try interacting with older men. I know many guys of all ages and backgrounds and different desires.

It's one thing if I surround myself with guys who are only looking for sex and that's all I get. But I don't do that. I have a diverse exposure. They just aren't interested in me beyond a sexual capacity, if even that. It makes me feel like a cheap date. What is it about me that makes my peak just sexual? What's worse is that I won't sleep with anyone I'm not with, so there's no benefit whatsoever.

There's a possibility that a friend had a crush on me. Assuming that was even the case, he's clearly over me. I have another friend who's married. He admitted that he once liked me a lot. If his feelings for me were that strong and that deep, why didn't he pursue me? He chose work over me. I wasn't important enough to make a priority in his life. It seems stupid to dwell over them because I'm not interested in either of them, but I do dislike feeling inadequate.

There's one guy who's opinion of me matters greatly. He either lied to me then or is lying to me now. That means that he did have feelings for me at one point and lost interest in me as he spent more time with me. Or he was never interested in me and lied to me and used me, which means that he never cared, ever. Or he does and/or did have real, meaningful feelings for me. But they aren't important enough to pursue.

I've resisted writing this blog entry, even though this thought has been circulating in my mind strongly for the past couple of days after a recent incident. It's not an insecurity I want to address. I also feel like expressing it will make these concerns more real. I'm relieved to experience a sense of release. I don't feel like a lame loser like I thought I would.

Knowledge is Power But Power Can Be Destructive, Day 70

I've always known that knowledge is power. Either I've experienced it. I've had it flowing through my veins, and I could feel it. Or I observed it and witnessed its power. But all that I've seen and felt before was ruthless, one-dimensional, intellectually thirsty power that's consuming. I thought that's the only knowledge there is. Maybe it is. But I'm realizing that's it's not enough.

There has to be balance in life. Feel with your heart. Think with your mind. The mind can never compensate what the heart can offer. It's an inadequate source. Even knowledge has its drawbacks especially if you crutch onto it. It'll start to paralyze your feelings. When that happens, you stop being human. You don't know how you feel. You don't know how others feel. You don't know what to make of what you feel or don't feel. Who do you trust? Knowledge will never offer you those answers because it's cerebral.

I fear that the more "knowledge" you have, the more power you have. But not every power is good. Some is destructive, harmful, painful, ruthless, heartless, cruel, mean, suffocating, and devastating. Yet you feel so little of it when you need to, when you should. I realized that last night as I observed my roommate persistently, diligently, and kindly re-iterate information optimistically in hopes that the contents of her message will be delivered. After a many grueling hours, she succeeded.

I don't think her kindness and care was deserved. But I suppose that's not the point. It isn't about what other people deserve. It's what you can offer. She's the kind of person who will give that to someone because that's who she is. Is that who I am? Is that someone I can become? Is that someone I want to become? Or will I just be trapped in this destruction of knowing which leaves me hardened and callous towards people I know will be vicious long before it occurs. It makes me cynical. It keeps me safe. It prepares me. I saw someone's vindictive nature deeply hidden within him long before he even knew it existed. I knew it was beginning to surface. I can feel us contributing to its manifestation. I felt it being conceived. I saw it grow. It keeps me sharp. But it also stifles me.

My Outlet, Day 69

Lately I feel like all I do is spill of emotions and premonitions. All I do is feel, but I don't always understand. I wish I can believe what I feel. How can I not believe what I feel? That makes no sense to me. I honestly feel like I'm learning to, though.

Someone said something that counteracts what I've observed, feel, trust, and experienced. Who do I trust? Am I honestly supposed to trust myself when all I seem to do is live in a whirlwind of doubts to avoid trusting? Am I honestly supposed to trust the person who said that I could trust myself, whom I believe, and trust myself when that same person tells me that I can't trust myself? I was crushed. But I didn't feel surprised, even though I'm in doubt about it. I've never believed in fairy tale endings or that candy-coated la la happy thoughts. But for the first time I've discovered that sad endings are still better than no beginnings. I even told my roommate that I feared things would end badly, but the experience is still something I want to have. No, the memories. I want to remember them fresh in my mind.

I don't understand why I don't hate this person or why I'm not mad at him, but I'm not. I can't be. I don't understand. After what happened, it's the logical thing to do. It's what makes sense. He says it's because I'm growing. I'm learning to understand and feel, so I see where he's coming from. It's allowed me to empathize. It's ironic that I don't understand because I'm starting to understand. If I understand, I feel like I should understand. And I don't. But I think he's right.

Technicalities aside, he knows that he's betrayed me and lied to me because he knows me. I have a hard time believing what I heard today and not because it isn't what I want. I have difficulty because I feel it's a lie. That doesn't change what he's ultimately decided. There's nothing I can do but respect it. I wish if he lied to me today, though, to make it easier that he would admit that. I'll still respect his wish, but I want to know that I can trust myself.

I feel like since he's betrayed my trust, my feelings should just go away and that I should guard up. I know that's not how it works. But why not? Feelings and pain drive people to do horrible things. If our bodies were trained to be numb, we could be better off in some ways. Instead I tell him that I'm ready, even still after what happened, to take down some walls around him. And I did, some major ones. It was the most naturally painful feeling I experienced. I wanted nothing more at that moment than for him to hold me and everything else just disappear. No time, no school, no people, no pain, no hurt, no complication, just that moment. I'm sure there are better moments, but that's what I wanted.

I felt so guilty, manipulative, and weak for wanting that because although I wanted to be comforted, I wanted him. I wanted to be in HIS arms, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted to be close to him, I wanted to feel him, I wanted to squeeze in any moment I can with him, I want to pretend even for just a second that being that close to him meant we were together. Why can't I just hate him? Why can't I just slap him? Why do I want to be wrapped around by the arms of someone who did that to me? What's wrong with me? Why do I have these thoughts? Why won't they go away? Why are they controlling me? Why am I so inappropriate?

When I admitted how inappropriate it was that I wanted him to hold me, he said that it wasn't. And he was right. I knew how much I missed him and how safe he made me feel. It was more than just a friend comforting or at least it was for me. Maybe it was for him too. All I remember was that I wanted everything else to melt away. But one more thing rang through. He was honestly being a genuine friend. I know this because the way he was holding me was the exact way another friend was holding me in a vision.

This friend and I were together in some future possibilities, but in one of them he was just a good friend. He was honestly there to comfort me. It wasn't intimate or romantic, just caring. How devastating is it that I know it wasn't inappropriate for the guy I want nothing more than to be with was just being a friend because I can reference a vision I had of another friend doing the exact same thing in a reality where he wasn't interested in me romantically, either. I turned to him because I know I can count on him from my visions, but that's not who he is yet.

"I don't know how to put it in words. I'm confused. I feel things I don't understand cuz I've blocked emotions for too long. I feel like I'm drowning. I feel selfish for bothering you with it. I shouldn't rely on my visions, but I know I can talk to you. The only person I feel I can talk to is someone I never hung out with based on visions. Pathetic." That's a text I sent to him. He said that I'm a great writer and I should use it as my outlet.

I've had this chronic cough for months, and some friends have been all over my ass about getting it checked out. One person has finally motivated me to go. I've also been exhibiting these rashes all over my skin today, too. I just found out that my rent is going to be raised in an unreasonable capacity. There's bullshit speculation that my rent was always more than what I've been paying. It's ridiculous. They're lies, but I don't have time to entertain them. I have to move out. My expenses have officially exceeded my income. I can't afford anything. I completely broke down today only to realize that I'm tired of trying to make things happen. I can't force anyone to be friends with me just because my visions show us being close. But even worse I can't make him have the same feelings I have of him. I can't make my visions go away. I can't make my feelings go away. All I seem to be able to do is make the one person I want to be with to not be with me because I'm not important enough, good enough, or I'm not really sure why.

Every aspect of my life seems to suck. I can't even enjoy that I'm growing as a person. With my home being in jeopardy. With my finances gone completely haywire. With my health completely in shreds. You know what's on my mind? He is. All I kept thinking today while all of this was happening was that my life sucks so badly that I don't even have time to miss him, to be sad about how things turned out or how it didn't. When I finally got some time to feel everything that's happening, all I can think about is him. Why him out of everything that's going on in my life? Because he was the one who could've been....but I guess I was never his.

Emotions, A New and Foreign Language for Me, Day 68 Again

I've had some difficulties with my "official" property manager and the oblivious, foreign tenant who was manipulated into taking over the responsibility of managing some of the units. My utility is included in the rent. I feel bad for the person who's now responsible for paying for the cost of utility who has to pay the excess remaining balance that isn't covered in the rent. But I can't afford to pay for someone else's mistakes.

And, quite honestly, the cold bitch in me is firmly against it. No one ever coddled me from my mistakes. If anything, they kicked me into a mistake and gave me crap for not getting out of it quickly enough. Clearly these are my personal issues I shouldn't transfer over, though. And I try my hardest not to, but apparently I've been unsuccessful. Even if I conceal it, I shouldn't put myself in that situation where I reference the past in relation to me.

That aside I've discovered that how I come off and my intended delivery can be varyingly different. It's been brought to my attention that my firmness is interpreted as aggression. That's not my intention nor my desire, but I'm not really sure how to change that. If your communication skills are weak, and I tell you slowly but not condescendingly how things are, I don't see how that's aggressive.

It was expressed how important it is for me to not lose my identity as I try to be more receptive to the feelings of others. That's honestly not a concern of mine. I think my identity will be intact. And more than likely, I'll keep that same edge and approach things similarly to how I do now. But I also want to be aware of the consequences of my actions and understand my observations. That means I have to learn an entirely new language.

A Writer Who's a Girl or a Girl Who Writes? Day 67

I've become interested in writing because it was a "safe" way for me to express how I feel, but I think I've come to the realization that writing has crippled my ability to feel in a healthy, functional way because it provides me with the opportunity to filter out certain emotions. Instead of letting my feelings wash over me, my writing keeps me focused on some thoughts more than others. I over think to a dysfunctional degree. With so many thoughts piling up, I feel like certain emotions escape me so to speak.

I'm not saying that writing is negative, or anything, but I finally realized that writing doesn't define me. I define what writing is for me. It's like I have this idolized idea of what writing is only to realize that it's not true. Just as writing has the ability to help me process my emotions, it also has the ability to stifle it like water. Water is neither good or bad. It's neutral. How you use water determines whether it's beneficial or harmful for you. Writing is my form of water. Water conveys emotions for me.

I Hold onto Anger, Day 66

People who know me know that I can be a resentful, vicious bitch. So yeah I can hold onto anger. It’s a natural state to be in if I wanted to be. It used to be. That’s not how I instinctively react anymore, but that habit still exists in me. My fault lies in not being fully aware of it. I’m no longer outwardly angry, so it’s as though I’ve eluded myself into believing that the anger no longer burns inside of me, that the fire has been long dead. Yet it remains.

I don’t want that anymore, and I think that’s the first step towards correcting it, letting it go! By pouring all that excess out, I can invite new energy in. I thank the people in my life who help me to realize that every day. I love you all, but I’d like to become the person one day who can do this on my own without someone putting a mirror up to the obvious. I want to reach that kind of self-awareness. I’ll always need people in my life to observe what I can’t for myself, but this is something I should be more connected to.

I feel like releasing the anger is a step towards the right direction. Obviously. In the past, I wasn’t ready to. I think it was one of the few constants in my life. Then so much crap happened that I didn’t have the time to direct anger out openly, but I must’ve still continued it on a subconscious level. I just assumed something in me changed. Then the anger felt absent, so I thought I was over it. I don’t hear the frustration in my voice because it’s been a part of me for so long. It’s evident to others, though. I have to stop seeing things as trivial.

An Altruistic Process, Day 65

I have a friend who triggers an insane amount of premonitions for me. I had some more of him today. He's an acupuncturist, and I saw visions of what his practice would be like. It was actually pretty cool. I shared some of it with him, and he related to a lot of them.

Being able to do that put me in an altered state. It actually made me feel empty. It's like my thoughts poured out to let new ones enter. After I finished sharing those visions with him, I was still left with an empty mind that allowed my thoughts to wander. I broke down and tears burst through me. It was enlightening, painful, and educational. Who knew the words, "This is happiness to you," would have such a powerful effect.

The Dualistic Nature That is Me, Day 64

Last night was an experience that made me realize that I have the ability to not just trust others but trust myself. Yet I clearly struggled with it. But there's something to be said that I went through with it. I didn't think I had it in me. Being so cynical and distrusting for most of my life, I can't ignore the "signs". Habits, moments, and experiences that I nitpick and focus on as evidence that I can't trust anyone. I'd like to one day not be that person, but it's quite possible that I'll struggle with that for the rest of my life because it's so deeply ingrained within me.

I don't want to indulge in that possibility, but when my mind addressed that concern, something clicked. I don't know what my future holds. I may or may not become that person. Right now I'm not that person. That's in the here and now. I want to change that, but in the meantime I do struggle with it. I don't trust people the way I should. I trust, but I have doubts that shouldn't be there. I can't deny them or pretend that it isn't there because it's dishonest, unhealthy, and the very thought process that's rooted in my issues, whatever those are. I have excess thoughts, and they aren't going to go away overnight. So all that I can do now is trust myself and focus on what really matters. I've been feeding my insecurities and doubts for far too long. I have to trust that there's only one truth, which makes the other a fallacy.

Do I trust? I believe so. Are there doubts? Yes. In life, there are no guarantees. I view "trust" as 100%, and that's not what it is, which means that until my mind wraps its head around the true meaning of trust, I may have doubts. I just have to make sure that they don't consume me. I used to push these fears into the back of my mind until it ripped through. It's better that I inventory that this feeling exists, whether it's just residual paranoia or something real. I can no longer look away.

My dream showed me that last night. It's been so long since I've dreamed. Last night I was picking lice out of my hair. I kept parting and diligently removing the lice and collecting it in the palm of my hand. I was removing the lice from my hair by using a mirror. According to dreammoods.com, seeing your own reflection suggests that I have pondering thoughts about my inner self. The reflection in the mirror is how I want to perceive myself and how I want others to see me. I may be contemplating on strengthening and changing aspects of my character. The last part is unquestionably true. It's possible that I want people to see me as I saw myself in the mirror, not the way I should be and yet working towards correcting that. I had lice in my hair which proves that I'm contaminated, but I was also removing it. I'm sucking the poison out of my life.

It was a rather brief dream but very vivid. I wonder if my distrusting nature manifested that dream or if the dream was merely supporting my distrust because there's legitimate concern. I can go back and forth in an attempt to figure it out, but that only stunts the process. I feel that I can trust. I see things that make me question it. I feel like I always see those things, though. Those interpretations don't define reality. That's as far as I know now, and as far as I want to take it.

The fact that I can accept that is tremendous progress for me. I don't want to be egotistical by over emphasizing it, but I do want to address it. My problem has always been that I focus on the wrong details, and I don't see the full picture. So as I run the risk of being egotistical, I toot my own horn for the baby steps I'm taking. Speaking of baby steps....

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I'm going to learn how to ride a bike. The idea of riding a bike is a long, painful, torturous story about my past. A detail I'll keep to myself. I thought it was a life's passage that I escaped and one I've wanted to escape for so long. But with many things for my past, it's catching up to me. I'm scarred by it, but I don't think to such a degree that I can't overcome it. I've had a couple of really good friends offer to teach me. For some reason, it's not been something I've been interested in pursuing until today! :) It's actually a new friend who offered to teach me. I'm really surprised that I trust him seeing how I just met him, but I had this feeling that I should tell him I don't know how to ride a bicycle. When I told him, he said that he thought it'd be funny but would love to teach me. That totally works for me. I'm not really sure why, but who cares! I've actually become more and more interested in the idea of it lately, but I hadn't found anyone I trusted enough to want to pursue that. It's also me, though. I wasn't ready until now.

I titled this blog Dualistic Nature because so much happens in my life that I spend so much time trying to figure out which aspect of my life I want to blog about. That's when it hit me. My life will probably always be a roller coaster. Maybe by embracing this, I'm jinxing it. I don't know. But this is how I feel. This is what it is now. All I can do is either let it take hostage of me or adapt to the circumstance I seem to have little control over. That's the key to having control. That and sometimes learning to let go, one of my greatest struggles. I'll always have choices. I'll always feel burdened because choices invite burden into our lives. I'm not willing to eliminate choices, though. So all I can do is make the best out of what I have, which means choosing what I want to focus on in my life. I can't ignore things I'd rather neglect, but I can define which ones are my priorities. The dream I had and my decision to learn how to ride a bike are the two priorities I want to focus on.

Emotional Attack, Day 63

The past few days I've made more progress in my emotional growth than I have my entire life. Opening up to my roommate lifted this burden and was a real eye-opener. I even stood on the right side yesterday, which is a huge deal for me. I like being on the left side. I've never been on the right for as long as I have. When I was on the right, it made me so uncomfortable that I felt shaky. That's not a normal reaction was what I kept thinking. And it isn't. But I'm missing the point.

I was on the right side! That's amazing! I deliberately put myself in a situation that made me uncomfortable as a way to deal with it. Standing there, I realized that I have habits that I'm not even fully aware of. I was fidgety. I knew that day that I was going to stand on that side as a form of practice. I kept going back and forth, though. I didn't realize it at the time, but switching back and forth for my ease was burdening my problem on my friend. After I was specifically told to not dump my problems on any of my other friends, I wasn't even aware I was doing it until someone else showed me.

I love that I have friends that'll be my eyes when I need them to be. But it's also crippling. I need to observe these things and be aware of them myself. I feel like I've had emotional attacks. I woke up yesterday morning being smiley happy, and I couldn't define it. It felt weird, but I liked it. And I went with it until night came and I worked through what I was afraid of. Even as I type, I find myself fluctuating between being happy and having that awkward goosebump feeling. Variation has always been a part of my life. I need to embrace it internally.

I realized that these emotional attacks aren't actually attacks. My body is just responding that way because it's foreign substance to me. I don't want it to be. I want it to be a part of me. It is. I just need to accept that. Sometimes I have this feeling that I should be alone, and I'm consumed with trying to find someone, anyone to hang out with. That insistence is weird, but I never questioned it. Some time between Thursday and today, it dawned on me that those are the days I'm most receptive to my emotions and myself. It scares me.

I'm Going Through Hell :) Day 62

That title and smiley face must be baffling, right? It would confuse me, too, but something amazing happened to me. I got the second chance I've been hoping for for so long. With it came new lessons even more powerful than the ones I had before. I ran into my ex, and we had this long, painful, cathartic talk. I was going through Hell. I didn't fully realize it at the time, but it was one of the best things that happened to me.

I didn't realize how resistant I was to it at first. But as my walls came crumbling down and I saw the debris and what it exposed, it was so painfully obvious what I was doing. How did I not know that? I'm a social person, and how I feel isn't well hidden. So I assumed that I was an open person, but I'm far from it. I'm guarded because I'm afraid. That fear is so deeply embedded in me. It's such an old scar that I've forgotten that it even exists. Guardedness just became a part of my identity.

The conversation may have initially been about our relationship, but the focus eventually shifted onto me and my problems. It no longer became about what he would and wouldn't put up with or how he refuses to get hurt again. It was about how I needed to change for myself. It became painfully evident when he put more effort into showing me that than I put in the effort to see it.

My vision was honestly obstructed because I was blocking myself from it, but I'm also the same person who put those barriers there in the first place. I may have been setting myself up, but I have no one else to blame for that than myself. As what he kept saying over and over, which is painfully cryptic (show me you've changed, show me you've changed, prove to me that you want to change, prove to me that you want to change, you're not showing me, you're not showing me....) finally made sense, I broke down. I started crumbling, crying, shaking, and it was a devastatingly vulnerable experience. I hate feeling that way, but that's when I finally made progress.

Apparently that's one of my processes. In order for me to open up, be receptive, be self-aware, and trust myself and others, I have to break down. That's the only way I know how to do it. That's why I was finally making progress. I felt something changing in me, but I didn't understand it until it was pointed out to me.

It wasn't until it was pointed out to me and I felt vulnerable that I even knew this. I'm not trying to excuse myself, but I couldn't help myself when I didn't even know it was there. I blamed him for things that weren't his faults as a coping mechanism. I was awful. I never want to put him or anyone else through that again. I appreciate so much what he did for me, to be on the phone with me for as long as he had, tolerated me, and helped me again, but I don't want to make this about him because it isn't.

One last comment about him, though. He said that I had to go through Hell to get better, so he wishes that I go through a lot of Hell. It's twisted but in a sweet way. He doesn't wish this method on me, but it's my process. He suggested that I invite more girls into my life because I need that kind of energy and people around. I don't know too many girls, and I certainly didn't know any I could talk to at midnight or so I thought.....

He was adamant that I talk to my roommate. He was confident that she'd be able to help me, but he doesn't even know her. All I told him is that I moved. I live in the living room now and share the space with a girl, and I get along with her. He seemed impressed and happy for me. I also explained that she gave me attitude when I didn't finish her bread. It was so vague and minimal the amount of information I provided of her, but he persisted that she obviously cares about me and wants me to be happy. So she would help me. He told me to talk to her, to tell her everything. And I actually did. I think that's the first time I ever opened to anyone like that or at all. I've explained details, but I was really exposed and vulnerable.

I had to get off the phone before I changed my mind, but I knew that it was the right decision for me because I was scared. Fear is a familiar reflex I experience when I know I have to approach something. When I was on the phone with him, I was crying and shaking, and I was really scared. I had no idea what to expect from this conversation. I just knew that I had nothing to lose, that she's a good person, that I have no reason to not trust him, and more than anything I didn't want to be afraid anymore.

She wasn't bothered at all about being interrupted. She was there for me and listened to me, but it wasn't this awkward silent thing. She shared, too. I was surprised by how open and how comfortable she was by my reaction. I kept having these thoughts racing in my mind about what she thought about me. What if she was worried that I'd always do this to her? She just moved in, and here a stranger is dumping her problems on her. What if I'm bothering her? Who would actually admit it? Would I freak her out by saying this? It was natural. She even expressed that she was glad to see this side of me. And here I was worried that it would freak her out. It was a relief for her.

How did I get so much so wrong? I was wrong about her. I was wrong about him. I'm wrong about myself A LOT! All I really know is that I have to go through Hell to get better. As much as I hate it, a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do! Wish me lots of pain and Hell!