Daydreams & Lipstick

I start my day by daydreaming of when my day will be over. I force myself out of bed, still exhausted, and start to make myself look like the girl I want others to see me as. Tired has become a permanent part of my personality. I pick out my clothes, furiously, because nothing looks good on me. So many clothes and I despise all of them. Can I wear all black forever? Makeup, hair, perfume. No part of me cares, but at the same time, every part of me does. When I can smile and know that my cheeks are rosy and my lipstick is on, somehow I feel better. I feel better knowing that everyone around me sees something more than just ‘me.’ The real ‘me’ is sad, anxious, quiet, awkward, withdrawn, exhausted, and somewhat hateful; the real ‘me’ wants to do nothing more than sit inside, alone, for days at a time. The real ‘me’ also wants to get drunk, have sex, spend lots of money, paint, binge watch Netflix, cry, and write things most people deem as depressing. None of that is helpful. So, here I am. Twenty-three years old, going on twenty-four, and I’m a wreck. I’ve accepted it, because frankly, I don’t see that changing any time soon. There are things that are out of my control that make my life a million times harder than it should or needs to be. Can I be carefree and enjoy my young adult hood? No way in hell. So, I will continue to wake up every day dreading everything. I will also continue to do my makeup, fix my hair, wear clothes that I sort of like, get my nails done sometimes, and smile until I feel better. Everyone needs something to get them through the day.

-I started writing this and had no idea where the post was going. It ended up being about makeup, which is something I’ve never written about before. Weird.-

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Love is to Blame

Better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all?
Better to have found your one true love or realize they are your downfall?
Would you rather be alone or cry yourself to sleep a thousand times?
Would you rather have never known love or to believe deceitful lies?

Go to bed alone and wake up the same
If that is all you have ever known, then love is not to blame
Love is not to blame for your heartache
Love is not to blame for all of your mistakes
Love is not to blame for you feeling alone
Love is not to blame for your jealousy
Love is not to blame for your trust issues
Love is not to blame for your insecurities
Love is not to blame.

For me, I have loved and I have also lost
I have been happy and loved, but now I pay the cost
For me, love is to blame.

blue-eyed view

I believe I see the world differently than most – for what things are, not what they seem to be. It is difficult [impossible] to make friends, especially ones that last. I see through the meaningless words and the petty [heartbreaking] lies. Genuine is an endangered species. Some [most] keep up with ‘celebrities’ rather than their family and friends, and this is the current sadness of the world. Fuck keeping up with the Kardashians. I am guilty, though; keeping up with ‘celebrities’, comparing myself/others, jealous thoughts – but the conscious effort is currently being made to admire and keep up with what is real in my life. I am worth being compared to only my past self. I am worth being loved for my soul [who I really am], rather than being loved for my body [which is merely a shell]. My skin is a casing which encloses all of which make me who I am. Who judges a present based solely on the packaging? My words, my art, my tears.. they are all a pathway into the deepest part of me. Are you ready for the journey?