overflow | ramblings

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I really do wonder if it is normal to feel like this. I don’t remember not feeling it.
It’s funny how at the end of an apparently good day everything will just turn around. It’s a sudden overflow. As if, all at once, it’s just too much to hold in. Yet, throughout the day, all felt lighter. Was it all just buried until now? Or is there no real reason behind this? Could it be, that I am my own saboteur?
Whatever it is, I don’t wanna feel it anymore, I wanna sleep it off. Just stop the world for a minute so that I can catch my breath.
Tomorrow I’ll be better. I’ll wake up with renewed energies, a slower heart pace and I will have forgotten all this things that I feel too much. Tomorrow is a brand new day. I can be scar free then. I can’t wait for tomorrow. But I still don’t know what to do will all of this from now.
I know I felt this before, but I don’t remember what I did to overcome it. I do question if I have been handling it well, because it keeps coming back.
Have I become too much of a pessimist to recognize what being alright is like? Or have I really not been alright for so long that I forgot how it feels?
This unwillingness to be awake is a feeling I’ve become too familiar with, yet the existence of this feeling is so loud it keeps me wide awake.
I’m drowning, someone push me up or let me go. I can’t stand this overflow anymore.

can and will be used against you | february

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People will stay things that will stain you. Just because they said them doesn’t mean they’re true. I know that now. But now, I can no longer wash away the damage. I’ve tried (have I?).

I know that because I’ve heard said things and I know that because I’ve said such things.

Things were said to me that I haven’t forgotten. Words that came out of my mouth once still stab people I care for. That’s a knife I can’t remove. There is nothing I can say that will undo the fact that I’ve said them aloud. To someone else.

I’m one to think you are entitled to your own thoughts and opinions, but when you chose to say them out loud you become responsible.

Way to often I’ll refrain myself from speaking my truth, simply because it is only my truth. My perspective will always be tainted by my experience and that makes me untrustworthy. As it should. I’m one to think you should always take my words with a grain of salt, because I know very little about an immense amount of things. In order for me to speak openly (I rarely do so), I have to be comfortable (I never am). Usually, my words are measured, but even I, sometimes fall into comfort and share my thoughts. These words come from a place of vulnerability. Whenever I catch my self thinking out loud, I regret it instantly and these words become something I can’t ever bare to hear again. If I could go back in time and take back things I’ve said, I would without a blink. The idea of minimizing my existence is a pleasant one. If I could just be a slight breeze, I would. But we must all be hurricanes sometimes.

I used to have someone in my life that would use my vulnerability against me. I made a promise (an unhealthy one) to my self: I would never be caught off guard again. From then on, I would stop wearing my heart on my sleeve, I’d simply keep it on lock down. My heart and my mouth. So I did.

Hearing the words: You’ve said that … will always shake me to the core. No matter what follows. The fact that someone was paying attention is quite scary. The fact that someone can memorize what I said and potently allow it to taint their life makes me want to never speak again. For good and bad, I couldn’t never be permitted to have such a responsibility.

Seeing the damage my words can make will always burn me more that the things I’ve been told. I can shrug off the things I was told, sure I can’t always forget them, but I can minimize them. However, the responsibility that comes with blatant honesty is not something I can carry. Also, the backlash, it’s not something I can handle. The things we say are often boomerangs that eventually come back to hurt us. The fact that someone can hold that the of power over me is not something I can live with.

I still have scars from the words that were said to me, but the wounds that remain open are the ones from the things I said that ended up being used against me. Things I said in what I taught what a loving, safe environment were all were thrown at me at some point. And if you feel a sting on your chest when someone says something hurtful, wait until someone uses the words you shared when you were vulnerable against you. An entire crater will open in your heart.

 

This is the type of nonsense I shouldn’t be aloud to think. But I do. In retrospective I can see that it’s insane and wrong. I couldn’t acknowledged that it was nonsense because I was keeping it inside. I guess. It’s not something I should be thinking. But I am. It’s not something I should live my life by. But I do. The words you say can and will be used against you. Sonner or later. This isn’t just something I’ve been told, it’s something I’ve been shown. How could I forget that?

Two AM | february

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2 am and she calls me ’cause I’m still awake
Can you help me unravel my latest mistake
I don’t love him, winter just wasn’t my season

She texted me after work, asking if she could come by my house. I made us tea, wrapped her in a blanket and held her till she ran out of tears to cry. She’d been bruised, not in a way that you could see, still when she told me it hurt, I believed her every word. We have a type of bound I haven’t heard of before, it’s more than understanding, I feel her pain as if it was my own.

Yeah we walk through the doors, so accusing their eyes
Like they have any right at all to criticize, hypocrites,
You’re all here for the very same reason

When I got there she’d already been lost for a while. I asked where she was, they just shrug. Everyone is just doing their own thing, apparently there had been a fight, she was no where to be found, and that was that. They all seemed so accepting of that as a fact, I didn’t knew whether to be mad or disappointed. I wanted to yell at them, to let them know that’s not how you treat her, that she deserves better than to be left wandering alone in the streets during the night. They would never understand.

I didn’t knew where she was, I would have been just as clueless as them, if I didn’t knew where I would go if it was me. It took me a few minutes, and there she was, curled up, sobbing helplessly. I run to her and wrap my arms around her. We didn’t talk, she stopped crying. After a while she started making small talk. Everything was gonna be alright.

‘Cause you can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable
And life’s like an hourglass, glued to the table
No one can find the rewind button girl,
So cradle your head in you hands
And breathe, just breathe.

More often than I would like to admit, I’ve found myself feeling on the verge of losing it. When that happens and I find myself sitting in front of my locker failing to hold back the tears or sitting on the bathroom floor struggling for air, she’s the one that comes to mind. When I cry for help she responds in a blink. There’s not a lot that can be said but she always finds the key words. I feel a little bit less insane when I talk to her. I can’t bring myself to voice thoughts so freely with anyone else.

May he turn twenty one on the base at Fort Bliss
Just today he sat down to the flask in his fist,
Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.

He’s sitting in front of me at caffe, tears in his eyes, he’s almost whispering but the desperation in his voice is loud. I always know the right thing to say but I can’t bring myself to say what he wants to hear. “She wants to break up with me“. I’m at loss for words. Let her, you’re gonna be fine, it’s the best thing that can happen to you. He’s way to in the dark to see that clearly. He will someday, I know (in hindsight, I was right). Yet he’s breaking in front of me, asking for help, and I don’t have the tools to help him. For once I can’t help and it frustrates me to the bone.

Here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But my God it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him, maybe I’ll just sing about it.

Once again I’m at a caffe in the middle of the afternoon with a boy on the verge of tears. But from him I never expect this. He was always my support, the one I knew I could tell everything. Yet, while I gave him every word, he always gave back very little. Whenever I pointed out this discrepancy he would say that was simply our dynamic: he would help me with my issues and I would distract him from his with mine. I didn’t like but I could accept it. Because of this it was surprising when after a couple years without seeing each other, he texted me saying that he was in need of a friend.

Vulnerability was not a trait I ever though I could see in him, but I was there to hear his struggle and to help out in the best way I could. I always think of the first thing he told me when we sat down: I’m sorry if this is unexpected, I just needed a friend to talk to and you came to mind.

There’s a light at each end of this tunnel, you shout
But you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out
These mistakes you’ve made, you’ll just make them again
If you only try turning around.
We were in the middle of rehearsal, laying down on a gym mattress. While everyone ran around wildly we were looking at the ceiling, talking.
– I think I should break up with him.
– I think so too. What he’s doing to you isn’t right.
– I don’t know if I can.
– You’re gonna be fine. I’m here for you. You’re not gonna be alone. You can do this. I promise you’ll feel a lot better after. What you’re feeling now isn’t what you’re supposed to be feeling.
He did for me what I couldn’t bring myself to do for him. I never expected him to say that so bluntly. I thought I would feel betrayed after hearing that, funnily enough, I felt safer after those words. If before I had believed that that relationship was all I had, he made it known to me that I had a safety net. With just short, straight forward conversation. Turns out, that wasn’t the best relationship I could have, in fact, it was far from it.
Two AM and I’m still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, its no longer
Inside of me, threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I’m naked in front of the crowd
‘Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you’ll use them, however you want to
So breathe, just breathe.

blackout | february

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Was wondering if I could steal you for a little bit. It won’t be long, I promise. If I fail to keep my promise you can stay a bit longer to complain. I won’t mind the company.

They said memory will break into fragments before it fades away, while I have you here, we can try to glue the pieces together. I understand our work is ill-fated, we are domed from the beginning, nevertheless I’d like the chance to fight. We can’t win but we can bruise. I’d like to leave a mark, so that when fate arrives we can face it with our heads held high. I’d like to avenge the memory of you.

You run your fingers trough my hair as if there was nothing but love in you, yet I know you’re struggling. You would adore me to the bones if only you could put together the letters that form my name. It is all right, I know you misplaced it somewhere, don’t worry. Sooner than I’d like, you’ll mislay your affection too. Torment can find me then.

They said it will get worse and never better. You’ll catch some beams of light every now and then, but time will bring you complete darkness. I wonder how many sunsets you still have. Are your days still sunny at all? Or are you living in a foggy winter? Are the flashes you see occasionally sun beams? Or is it just happenstance? I’m curious because that’s all I have left to be.

Life is slipping away from you and you can’t remember to grab it. Let me steal you for a little bit, I’ll reverse the clock, we can go back to summertime. Share your burden with me, I’ll help you find the letters to all the names you no longer remember. Whenever I fail to live up to my task, stay a bit longer to complain. I won’t mind the company.

 

The introvert’s introspective tales| ramblings

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It’s December. Time to be merry, festive and bright. It should be a natural state, there’s jolliness in the air, you can’t avoid to inhale it every time you go out. There’s no escaping Christmas spirit. The street lights peak through the windows, they’re colorful and blinking, there’s a warm white tone in the streets at night, even the cold feels cozy.

It’s shouldn’t be this difficult. I’m a firm believer in Christmas spirit, I own a shameful amount of Christmas socks, I put up my tree at the beginning of November, I pretty much force feed Christmas to everyone in my life.

It shouldn’t be difficult to be merry, but this year something feels different. It’s not that I’m not cheerful, I’m probably still a little bit more excited about Christmas than your average human being. I’m just not me. Whoever that is. I’ve been struggling a little with myself for the past few months. Not quite sure who to be while being certain of who I am. It’s confusing. I just can’t shake off certain things. They linger onto me and I can’t seem to get rid of them. Some days I can’t even get out of my head and I’ll find myself not being able to maintain a conversation. On others, I’m so out of head I’ll became light and unattached, some would even say I’m in a good mood. I came to the conclusion that I’m more pleasant when I don’t keep up with my thoughts.

Maybe I should stop thinking so vividly. Being introspective is not a bad thing, but when you start to lose your ability to interact with others because you’re so damn lost in your own mind, it might be something harmful after all.

Not to say I feel unwell.

But if I’m being honest… I think I do.

I look at my self a lot. I do. It’s like a sort of emotional vanity. I don’t mean to say I only see good things. One will look in the mirror a lot too when the reflection isn’t the one desired. I often don’t like what I see. I write about myself a lot too. I’m writing about how much I write about myself in this very moment. This can’t be healthy and for sure this isn’t helping anyone. And I don’t even do it as an ego stroke, it’s actually more of an ego beatdown. Someone has to keep me humble. But I guess it’s time to let someone else do it. Trust that I’m surrounded with people who will be quick to put me in my place whenever I start to wonder off my usual path and just stop the beating.

It’s time to let someone else become my enemy, I can’t take the number one spot at all times. I’ve been doing it for a while, and I might have become too good at it. I need to make emends with myself and let someone else hate me instead. Maybe it’ll be easier to be inside my head after that happens. One can only hope.

What better time of the year to start forgiving than December? May it be merry, festive and bright.

A tale of three girls | ramblings

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She had curly hair. I remember thinking her hair was really pretty. She was also short, never chubby but a bit on the fuller side. She smiled like she was hiding something, and looked like she was above everyone else. Whether she actually was or not, I don’t know, but it seemed like she felt like she did. I wouldn’t trust her. I never had the chance to talk to her, so I wouldn’t know what she was like personality wise, I have this feeling we wouldn’t be friends. I saw her from afar and made my judgment from there.

She looked nothing like me. It made me insecure how little we looked alike. They went on to date for several years, I thought they would get married and it fucked me up a bit that I would be the last girl before The One. Aside from that, I didn’t care much that they were together. I wouldn’t call it heartbreak, it was upsetting, sure, my first big break up, but I managed well. I was surprised how little it bothered me to see them together.

The second girl was taller, had long straight hair, a cute smile and was very nice. This one looked a lot like me, everyone would say so and that only made things more awkward. She was way more outgoing which was surprising, cause he wasn’t. We could have been friends. We almost were actually.

This one bothered me a lot. I was blindsided by it completely. One day he was into me and the next he was dating her. This was the first time I was putting my heart out there and he simply walked all over it. The worst part was that she looked so much like me that it could have been me. Was I not good enough to be The One? Luckily they broke it off after a while.  For years I would think of him as the one that got away. Not anymore. Guess I’m finally cured from that curse.

I never got to meet the third girl. Never even heard of her. She seems nice I suppose. It’s funny cause she looks like a mix of the girls before her. She has straight hair, chubby cheeks, a wide smile and looks like she is immensely happy at all times. I wonder if she’s quiet or outgoing. She seems … easier to be around – easier than me. He is really found of her, it seems. They’re still together – as far as I know. This one is the one that cut the deepest. I was completely caught off guard by it, I never dared to believe he would have fallen straight into her arms so quickly. Jokes on me for breaking it off, I guess. He was long gone before I sent him away though. I always wondered if he had already started falling for her and I think it’s because of that doubt that this is the one that hurt the most. She might be The One for him.

None of it really bothers me anymore. All six could get married, go live in a closed community and join a cult, for all I care about. What stings is how they made their way through my life as if I was just part of the landscape. I guess everyone suffers from that a little. But this specific pattern made me very insecure. I can’t bring myself to fully trust people anymore. I’m always cautious, for all I know, they could move onto the next best thing tomorrow. And I will be left blindsided, not knowing what I did wrong, what happened or how I could have prevent it. People are really that temperamental, one day they’re here and the next they’ll simply be gone.

I obsessed about this so much that I found myself falling into the pattern and reversing it at the same time. I became the goner. Turns out, I’m really good at goodbyes. Blink and I’ll be gone. If I go first, they can’t leave me, and I don’t have to get hurt, because I’ll never get attached to begin with. Also, there’s not enough time to see the flaws.

I can be very tiring, all this insecurity get old after a while and people will just be done with me one day; and I’m also immensely flawed, which is why the deeper people get to know me, the easier it becomes for them to leave me.

I can’t blame anyone for wanting to leave me, what I can do, however, is beat them to it.

boyish charm |ramblings

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I’ve always been a sucker for a boyish charm. You know, when a guy is not only charming but also so aware of it that he becomes borderline arrogant. He’ll talk like an ass with an endearing smile, leaving you wondering if he truly believes what he’s saying or if he’s just aiming for a reaction. You often won’t know for sure if you should be annoyed or attracted. It’s a sweet struggle.

I like a good train wreck, as most girls do. I think everyone has that specific type of person that they’ll find themselves attracted to despite knowing better. My thing is a good old boyish charm.

Most of the boys I dated, or found myself attracted to, were really confident. Looking back, some of them didn’t had a lot of reasons to be (that’s not mean, it’s just painfully true), but they were nonetheless. And I was always attracted to that. Now, I’m not the most confident girl, so there were some moments were I would also be kinda of intimated by it, luckily (luckily?) it never really stopped me from pursuing them.

I dated a really sweet boy for a little bit. He was really sweet. Don’t think I’ve ever had any sort of romantic interaction with a sweet boy like that before, it was interesting and new. However, he lacked that slight arrogance. I would find myself getting bored of him at times, which was never fair to him. – Notice how I can say that all the others were assholes, but this one was really sweet so I feel terrible for saying he bore me. – I don’t think I’m suited for sweet boys, I’m already sweet enough. I need someone with a bit of spice in my life. A guy has to be at least a little bit of a imbecile for me to even consider being interested in him.

Falling for someone that has that unexplainable boyish charm will bring you inner conflict. It’s a given. Most of the days you won’t know if you want him close enough to hold or just ship him to another country. But that’s the fun of it. It keeps you on your toes and makes life more interesting. It’s definitely a frustration I don’t mind suffering from. I don’t know what this says of about me or my under-covered issues, I’m really not interested in finding out to be honest. But I do know that it’s a given and I can’t escape the true: I’m enticed by pretentious guys with playful smiles and an slightly insolent attitude. Bare with me if my description seems harsh, however I’ve been infatuated by – and even dated – boys like this my entire life, I’ve seen them up-close and I’m entitled to be honest. Doesn’t mean I like them any less and I wouldn’t have it any other way.