It’s not working is it? An inconclusive rush :me:

I don’t think trying not to expect much is working for me anymore. I don’t think not getting my hopes up is effective. I don’t think this is the right way to approach my life. I don’t think it’s a healthy way to live.

I used to have dreams and ideals and excitement and plans. I used to romanticize and imagine. Now I sit and wait. Smiling at everybody around me and thinking that I have it as good as I’ll ever get it. Content is better than loneliness and unhappiness. It might not be totally happy but what is that anyways. Why do I always feel like it is a few steps in front of me? Why do I feel like if a couple more things fall into place I will be living in the bliss I always dreamed of? Why can’t I be content with where and who I am. Who I’m with. Who I chose. Doubts cloud my mind constantly and drown out the chances at happy thoughts over and over again. I’m getting weary, tired of trying to choke down my thoughts, my what ifs. My if onlys. If only I could accept my life at it is right now. If only I could be strong enough to hold on. If only I could look into the future with hope rather than see it as a daunting cell. If only I could do all these things.

But in those moments I don’t say I after if only. I say he and she. I blame and try to correct others. Like the cynical, perfectionistic, unsatisfied, ungrateful person I have become. If only he cared enough to try. If only he understood and tried to hear my point. If only he did what that guy is doing right there. If only he was here. If only she was nicer. If only she wasn’t so close minded. If only she listened to me without shutting me down every time. If only. If only. If only I could shut up and see that I’m the one holding myself back from my happiness. Because I am. Aren’t I? That’s the only explanation for how I feel sometimes. And by sometimes I mean all of the time in the back of my head. In the dark cavern of my mind where the guilt and anger and dissatisfaction reside. Festering and eating at me until they finally consume my thoughts and I can’t hold it in anymore. If only I really was good. But everyone has good and bad together. I don’t know what I’ve been suppressing but it is knawing at my thoughts. Do I want to be safe or happy? Can I have both? I ask too much. I’m too demanding. Too dissatisfied. And for what reason? To what end?

I have no idea.


Post class thoughts “me”

It’s funny how dancer’s begin to flourish in their different niches. Sometimes I feel like I’m floating in limbo. I’m not a very good performer or choroegrapher, but I like to move so that’s something. One of these days I’m going to be to broken to move, so I should try to enjoy it while I can. In the meantime I   try to stay positive as I search for my niche. Try to stay positive. Try to be confident.

4am rant on racism and where I feel the world is headed. (take it as you will, I am sharing some very frustrated thoughts)

One day elitist people who think they have the power to put people on boxes are going to find themselves in quite a predicament because the world is a melting pot and whoever might be “breeding” within their race to keep their line “pure” is inevitably going to be “tainted” (unless they decide to inbreed in which case disease will end that promptly) and then we are all going to be mixed. And you can’t put mixed people in boxes unless you plan on having every single person in their own damn box with their own slew of traits and descriptions because we are all different. We are all individuals. It is eventually going to be impossible to really keep track of who is 1/8 Chinese, 1/2 Russian and 3/8 African and who is 1/4 Haitian and 3/4 Australian and who is whatever mix of whoever decided to get together to make the person you see there. Does it really matter? No it doesn’t, because they are their own person. Do people think it matters? Yes because unfortunately some people have their judgements and others have guns and a few out of those have power and the worst is when they have all three and they think they can decide someone’s fate.

If you want to be close minded, then go about your day thinking whatever you want and represent whoever you think you should. But don’t you dare think that your opinion gives you the right to affect someone else’s life. It doesn’t, it really doesn’t. So stop putting people in boxes and stop abusing your guns and power, cause everybody has the right to live their life in society. And we are all going to be mixed together one day so really, what is the point?

(Sorry for potential run on sentences, excessively long paragraphs, and any general grammatical issues. I wrote this on my phone rather late at night.)


Time has been my enemy for so long and I have no idea how to make it my friend.

Why do I always feel like I’m battling with time? Its as if I’m in an endless argument with it. I feel rushed because I don’t have enough of it, I feel depressed because I’m wasting it. Its moving too fast, moving too slow, never at peace. The little time I have, I never can put to any use that makes me feel satisfied.

I don’t usually include too much about my personal life in my writing other than whatever you can assume based on the emotion and content of my writing, but I am in a relationship that is considered “long distance.” Because of this, I have a very interesting and almost obsessive relationship with time. I’m stuck in a place where I’m constantly measuring time, and unfortunately my happiness is a bit tangled up in it as well.

At a month until we can see each other again, I feel terrible, hopeless. The light at the end of the tunnel doesn’t seem to exist, and I shift between being in a vaguely good mood and in a severely depressed mood several times every day. Each endless, passing day. At the end I realize that I spent the entire day wishing it was over and then I regret the time wasted. I feel terrible for being too silly to take advantage of the day I had, and by the time my rational mind has enough power to make me realize this, it is too late. Too much time but still not enough, simultaneously.

A few days before we see each other I’m elated. The days drag on but I don’t care anymore. I don’t care because the ultimate prize is waiting at the end of the tunnel and I am so close to the light I can almost feel it on my cheeks.

By the time we finally are together, a countdown starts somewhere within the recesses of my mind. I’m in the light, but the next tunnel is coming faster than I want it to. I find myself already dreading it. The dread weighs me down and makes it harder to enjoy the quickly disappearing light. A few days is barely enough to outweigh a month of darkness. They come and go too quickly, and I feel like I never have a chance to really enjoy them before I am back again, alone, with nothing but days to count down.

I catch myself wishing that we could just hold hands and not worry about how much time we have left to do so. I want to fall asleep and not wake up thinking that this is the last morning we have before being apart again. It is really messing with me and I have no idea how long I can take it. The worst part is that when I map my future, this will be my situation for a long time to come. I’m only in the beginning. It seems so ominous. I have years to go before I can have any relationship that is a little more free from the constraints of time. It seems like too much time. But it’s only too much because I don’t have nearly enough.

My problem rests with this.
I cannot escape this situation that I’m in, so the only option is to suffer or learn. I’m trying to learn, but all I feel is the suffering and I don’t know how to flip the switch. I have yet to figure out how to mend my terrible relationship with time. Meanwhile, it seems to only be interested in ruining me. How can I get myself on the same side as time? It looks like my enemy when I really need it to be a friend.



Insomnia plague

Tonight as I sit in my bed and wonder at how the world works, what the future might hold, and why me… I eventually flutter to a stop on an idea.. Is insomnia a new thing?
Let me explain. Insomnia is an inability to fall asleep despite being tired. It is considered a disease or “condition.” But how long has this “condition” been a “thing”…? Did cavemen lay awake and stare at dark walls and wonder what the big old future holds? Or were they satisfied enough with what they know and what they have to the point where they could actually sleep at night? Is insomnia a “condition” or a side-effect? If you’re wondering what I am thinking it could be a side effect of, take your pick. It could be because of stress, contaminated diets, unnatural lights, overuse of electronics, lack of exercise, lack of nutrients, an overdose of caffeine, an overdose of thoughts. Thinking plagues everyone nowadays, and what better time is there to think than at 2am when you’re alone in your room and supposed to be asleep. Even if you aren’t physically alone, there may be someone next to you in your bed. But you’re alone with your thoughts. You’re alone with your conscious. You’re alone awake. And you can’t make the world quiet enough to get a chance to just knock out. I would love to just knock out. But I think I am almost scared to. I’m scared to because if I go to sleep, then tomorrow comes even faster and nothing is more terrifying to me than tomorrow. If anyone shares my speculations, please share. I would love to know that I am not the only person who thinks in loops like this.


*please excuse any grammatical errors, my fingers are barely keeping up with my brain as it is, and I think writing this out is finally helping me slow down and maybe even sleep. If anybody is reading this, thank you. If not, at least its therapeutic for me to deposit some of the thoughts crowding my mind into something that I can return to. *

Bitter thoughts, reality, and my belief in pointlessness.

In highschool all we’re focused on is preparing for college. In college all we’re focused on is preparing for a job. When we have a job all we’re focused on is preparing for retirement. When were retired all we focus on is grand kids and eventually dying. I can’t have fun without feeling guilty. I should be aspiring to be a doctor, working on different languages, and doing absolutely anything productive. Fun isn’t productive. But, as everyone says, as long as you have a roof over your head, it’s a good life.

A late night rant in lowercase words.

So i have not been posting recently, mainly because the class that i made this blog for is finished (i got a great grade, in case you wondered) and i have been finding it a bit difficult to find time or inspiration to write. But then i find myself clicking on the small, blue “wordpress” icon and scrolling through endless titles about subjects that might have never crossed my mind. The writing is so wonderful and i feel that the unique community on this website is made up of people who are so free-spirited, willful, and articulate that i should (and can) not let myself drop this discovery just because the semester ended. So, i am really sorry for the lack of posts (if anyone noticed my lack of posts) and if youre reading this, thank you so much for sticking through this dead patch. I will be posting more in the future, and i have confidence that the world is full of inspiration that i have just pretended to not see or feel. Oh, and the reason why this entire post is in lowercase, except for the first letter of every sentence, is because i am typing this on my phone, at 3:30am, under the covers. (When i was little i slept under the covers because i was scared, now it is because its a habit, though i wont deny that the monsters are still out there and apparently my covers are magical and can protect me from anything!) Well this concludes my rant, i apologize for the millions of grammatical errors i have probably made, and i hope that you all have a wonderful evening/day. Goodnight wordpress!