photography, sketching, antiques, classic rock, over thinking, and most importantly; breakfast for dinner.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
A list of cliches, whining about the same old shit, and empty promises to myself.
I’d like to take this opportunity to make my annual “I’ll do better” post.
Here’s the thing: day in and day out, I become disappointed in myself at varying degrees. Even now as I type this, I’m worrying about my grammatical errors and general syntax of this post. Was that a sentence fragment? I feel like I’m at my peak of ever gaining any more intelligence, and that frightens me to no end. (I also feel like I’m using “I” too much, but this is an introspective post so I guess I’ll go with it.) What do I have going for me? I’m a middle class, 6/10 on the physical attractiveness scale, very mildly artistic, high school educated female. This isn’t a pity party, and I don’t hate myself, but I am curious as to where I fit in. It’s hard to write something about myself without feeling guilty of hideous cliches and laughable “problems”. I can’t seem to finish anything without worrying that no one will care about it, including my blog entries! My BLOG ENTRIES, how asinine is that, what has become of mine and future generations (cliche #172 of this post)? Another question I have for myself is, “do I care too much about everything or too little about everything?”
I can’t seem to figure out if I’m suffering from corrosive apathy or debilitating neuroticism. Is it a combination of both? I think the two are related, which is why I’m debating.
*SIDE NOTE: I just lost interest in what I was typing because the TV is on. I watch way too much TV, and it saddens me. I love reading, but I’ve lost touch with it over the years, mostly because of TV and movies.
Here’s another thing: I care WAY too much about male attention. I’m always finding myself looking for someone to make me happy, someone to want me, someone to accept me. I don’t have “daddy issues”, so I don’t know where this all stems from, but it’s been this way for a long, long time. I’m making my life about guys, and I’ve lost my dignity in many ways doing so. I know people think I’m pathetic, and that I’m insane, you name it, and the truth is, I am! Again, I’m not pitying myself, I’m remorseful about who I’ve become………… I don’t regret what I’ve done, I can’t add regret to my repertoire of insecurities. I’ve let guys use me sexually, with the internal hope that it will lead to something more. Fact is, I am a romantic and I live in a dream world. It’s sad that the only way I can start over and meet new people would be to move away. Actually, no! I’ve met people here that I’ve never met before and don’t know who I am, but my previously mentioned neuroticism overhauls the situation. I’m exhausted.
Where I’m going with this, is that I need this year to be about ME. I can’t keep doing every little thing in my life with the fear and concern that someone won’t approve. It’s going to be difficult, and it’s going to take a while, but I want to try. I can’t say that I’m going to fulfill that hope 100% by any means, but it’s a nice idea. Maybe some day, I can do something with 100% of my effort, but for now I can only promise myself a good try.
Remember that time I was a photographer? Yeah, me too, that needs to be how I’m known. I don’t want to be known as a selectively artistic poser, but I don’t want to call myself anything I’m not. There are so many things I want to do with myself this year. My OCD (the obsessive part) won’t allow me to go into detail about what I want to do, but I have realistic and unrealistic goals.
Let’s liven this up a bit, shall we? If you read all of the previous nonsense, I admire you on your commitment to either boredom or curiosity. Here’s a list of things I want more and less of:
- more exercise, less laying around
- more healthy food, less empty calories
- more for me, less for guys
- more coffee, less alcohol
- more music, less TV
- more books, less sitting around and worrying myself sick!
- more good deeds, less selfishness
- more cooking, less fast food
- more drawing, less texting
- more optimism, less whining
- more learning, less stagnancy
- more glitter, less hiding
- more truth, less shame
- more innovation, less slacking
- more cleaning, less mess
- more commitment, less flakiness
- more exploring, less sleeping
Less hate. Less sadness. Less fat. Less cowardice. Less monotony. Less anxiety. Less OCD. Less worrying.
More smiling. More amends. More frivolity. More positivity.
(Source: westoodtransfixed)
IM GOING TO START UPDATING AGAIN
SORRY TO *~*~*mY fAnZz -n- L0YaL fllwrz*~*~*
haha thanks! i would wear one every day
While browsing through the family photo album, Lisa notices that there are no baby pictures of Maggie. Homer explains by recounting the story of Maggie’s birth. In 1993, Homer hated working at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, and had a dream of working at a bowling alley. After he received a paycheck that cleared him of all his debts, he quit his job at the power plant, and went to get a job at the local bowling alley.
When Homer and Marge “snuggled” to celebrate this development, she became pregnant. Marge knew that the news would end Homer’s new lifestyle and affect his happiness, because it meant he could no longer support his family on his bowling alley salary. Marge kept her pregnancy a secret as long as she could, but Patty and Selma, eager to ruin Homer’s life, spread the news quickly around town.
Homer was not happy when he found out about Marge’s pregnancy, and was completely unenthusiastic about the impending birth. Because of the financial problems caused by the pregnancy, Homer was forced to make a sacrifice and go back to the power plant. However, Mr. Burns made Homer beg for his job back, and placed a large plaque in front of Homer’s desk reading: “Don’t forget: you’re here forever”. Homer was once again unhappy at his work, but as with all the Simpson children, when Maggie was born, Homer instantly fell in love with her. Back in the present, Bart and Lisa still do not understand what that has to do with Maggie’s photos. Homer merely mentions that they are in the place where he needs them the most. The scene then cuts to his workplace where all of the photos of Maggie are positioned on the plaque on the wall, which now reads: “Do it for her”.
BRB CRYING
(Source: wordsoftakumi)
