instantnotebook

[instantnotebook]

0811

life sucks so fucking bad today.

[instantnotebook]

1510.

I think the word I'm looking for is 'contempt.'

It's not happiness yet; it has no aspects of sadness. It's the peaceful, quiet, self-loving inbetween. My mind is resting. It has the calmness of good days. I went back to yoga and it helped - knowing I have the ability to sit down and shut my brain off if I have to, knowing that I can learn it, it helps. 

Days have been good. The bads have been good, because they were legitimate bads. What hurts is when I get irrationally sad/angry about things, because the emotions I feel get so uncontrolable I feel like my own mind is escaping. What can you do if you can't restrict your mind? What do you become?

I had a conversation with a friend about this. He is one of these few, few people I have met who have a 'turn off' button, and think of emotions as actions they can start and stop as they will. I admire this, in a caged animal way. I find the idea of such a power over one's own mind intriguing and frightening. To me it is impossible, most times.

Days have been good. Kisses and sleeps and walks, laced fingers, hours sat together barely touching but cherishing each other's breath, glances exchanged when we are living different lives, passionate smiles and quiet breaths. 

I am not yet capital-h-Happy, not fully. It comes in colourful surges. The colour of us.

[instantnotebook]

910

Some days are good.

The point is to remember that life doesn't end when night comes but that there is more, there is a tomorrow to be looked forward to and enjoyed. This is applicable to any situation. There is always another second, another minute, another hour, and whatever feelings take over you, they will likely be gone.

Ultimately only the good ones matter and remain. When I woke up this morning, I remembered ordering pizza, crossing things off my to-do list, all our future plans coming together, smiles; the tough stuff is back there, having a rest, leaving me alone. 

Of course there is a danger to feeling like things are going up, because they might be going down. 

But some days are good.

[instantnotebook]

610

I pretty much live writing.

There is so little I do that doesn't involve jotting down words on a blank space. I write at work, I write in class, I write my papers, countless emails, I write news articles for my journalism class, more emails, I take notes, I cover my room in post-its, I write dates in my diary and feelings in my journal.

Is it good or bad, is it neutral, does it help me? Seeing all of these things that make me who I am and are such a big part of who I am staring back at me gives me a feeling of being very closely observed. There's no hiding.

I like words, because you can make them say what you want. Things go from beautiful to ugly in the twist of a sentence. Words are so powerful, and knowing how to play with them is a gift I cherish. 

I like my words true. There's no hiding. I think it helps. Acceptance might be the single thing that keeps me sane; that and chocolate and my mum. I don't turn around telling myself: no, this isn't real. I know what I feel and I write it down and I say it.

This makes me powerful, more powerful than the cracks trying to break me. I know the cracks. The ones who love me know the cracks and accept them, they are willing to fill them, or help me find how to fix them, little piece of tape after little piece of tape.

I am lucky. I am lucky I have words.

[instantnotebook]

1. Are her lips like the hot chocolate your mother made During the winter months when you were seven? Or have you not tasted her well enough to find the fine granules of cocoa that lightly come with each kiss? 2. Do you know her favorite songs? Not when she is happy, but when she is sad. What music reaches inside her ribcage and softly consoles her heart? 3. When she is sad, are you on the phone or are you at her door? Words do not wipe away tears, fingers do. 4. Do you know all the things that keep her up at night? Do you know why she has gone three days without sleep? Do you know of the insurmountable waves of sadness that wash over her like a tsunami? 5. Do you know the things to say that will calm her heartbeat? The places to touch? The places to love? 6. Everytime you see her do you kiss her like it’s the last time but love her like it’s the first? 7. Do you love her? 8. Do you love her?

"Things I Want To Ask Your Boyfriend" - Nishat Ahmed (via modernmethadone)

[instantnotebook]

410

Things I am feeling today that I need to make available for others to see, just not those who care about me:

- Life is hard. 

This sounds very 2006 MySpace emo but I think this might be the most accurate description of life. Others include: beautiful, intense, worth it, scary, unique (list non exhaustive.) But hard has to come first; I don't anyone gets to anything, whether positive or negative, without a fight. 

- Feeling like it's gotten better doesn't necessarily mean it's gotten better.

Life has been an alternation of bad days after good days, after bad days, etc. Today is bad. Yesterday was good until 8pm. I thought I had gone past the bad days; not past the actual conflict just just away from the lows and into being ok. I think I might have been wrong. (I am still giving myself a chance.)  The five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Denial is long gone. Anger is omnipresent, it's eating me out. I hate it, which only makes me angrier. I have been doing a form of bargaining, I think; sitting down and breathing slowly and thinking 'wait and see, it'll get better, you don't have to solve this now.' It's not working. I don't want to get into depression. Depression can't have me again. 

Acceptance. Here we are not talking death-related grief. I have accepted the situation. I have no choice but to accept it. Why are all the stages mixed up? How do I get to the final, happy, healthy, peace-of-the-mind stage? 

- People you love will disappoint you and hurt you.

Sometimes they will kick you when you're down — it hurts more when it's not on purpose.

- You will disappoint people who love you.

Obviously. In this instance, the point of the matter is that people that love you so much they think you have a legitimate chance of reaching the stars will discover that, actually, you don't. They will tell you you get to try again because they love you. You will then disappoint yourself for doubting them. 

- I am not strong. I am not tough.

The only way out of the labyrinth is through.

[instantnotebook]

I am not the first person you loved. You are not the first person I looked at with a mouthful of forevers. We have both known loss like the sharp edges of a knife. We have both lived with lips more scar tissue than skin. Our love came unannounced in the middle of the night. Our love came when we’d given up on asking love to come. I think that has to be part of its miracle. This is how we heal. I will kiss you like forgiveness. You will hold me like I’m hope. Our arms will bandage and we will press promises between us like flowers in a book. I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin. I will write novels to the scar of your nose. I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used trying to describe the way it feels to have finally, finally found you. And I will not be afraid of your scars. I know sometimes it’s still hard to let me see you in all your cracked perfection, but please know: whether it’s the days you burn more brilliant than the sun or the nights you collapse into my lap your body broken into a thousand questions, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I will love you when you are a still day. I will love you when you are a hurricane.

Mouthful of Forevers – Clementine von Radics (via februarypoem)

[instantnotebook]

1809

Today:

Stop being a selfish bitch.

You're in the wrong. 

You're hurting everyone. 

Why are you so fucking stupid.

Why can't you get over yourself. 

I hate you. 

You're ruining everything.

These are but a few of the lovely things going through my mind right this second. And every other day. And every single time I am sad. I get sad and I put myself through more pain. All the blame is on me, why would it be on anyone else? Of course they didn't do any fucking thing wrong, did they? Of course I'm the only fucking problem.

I think that's why I've been so open about being sad and jealous and hurt; it's because I want them and NEED them to feel only half as much pain as I'm feeling every time because it's so. fucking. unfair. 

[instantnotebook]

From Here To There: A growing map of Manhattan made only of directions from strangers on scraps. 

[instantnotebook]

me, every day, forever.

[instantnotebook]

[instantnotebook]

1102

I don't really have a secret place where I can write anymore.

This is the problem when you start accepting yourself enough that you actually want to share all of you with the world. The good, the bad and the online bits. Well, I don't think 'the online persona' is a thing; on the contrary, I believe it is as much a part of me as the rest. Everything is real, no bullshit. It took me a while to get there.

But that's not the point.

The point is that I have always been a writer and writing helps me because putting my thoughts and feeling into words helps me figure out what's going on. I'm a writer and I like being organised; I make lists and ticks things so often I wouldn't be surprised if I had OCD. So yes, feelings need to be listed and ticked off as well. Except I used to do that online and I know I feel like I can't anymore because I don't keep my online self a secret anymore. But I still need to write about my feelings.

I am confused. So fucking confused. And overwhelmed. It's like a giant wave of stuff had been building up for days/weeks/months (unsure) and has suddenly come down and I am so very drenched but it's like this sort of magical water and I am just fucking dripping. Which might explain why I've been so sick; lolz look at the joke I made with my own metaphor. 

So much stuff had been going on, so much, so many things and my life had never been better and it HAS never been better. Best it's ever been. But it's exhausting. It's all worth it, of course, the work and the essays and the endless research and phone calls and all the drunken nights with some of the best friends I've ever had. And then there's more, and that's so worth it as well except, except it's so confusing. I don't understand. I've been so incredibly good my whole life at advising my friends with relationships, really. I wish it could be a LinkedIn skill, then everyone I know would recommend me and praise me for my wise, wise advice. And yet, somehow, when it comes to me I have no fucking clue what to do. 

Which obviously doesn't help me focusing on the rest of my very exciting but ahhhh so bloody busy life. 

And this was quite useless. Feelings are still confused. Maybe the internet just won't help anymore.

[instantnotebook]

[instantnotebook]

There is no worse hell than to remember vividly a kiss that never occurred.

Richard Brautigan (via loveyourchaos)

[instantnotebook]

By Kyle Thompson

[instantnotebook]

understanding the concept of multiple selves too well. while one's trying hard to be confident and strong and brave another one's ultimately going to fuck everything up and turn things back to a fucking state of mess just to make it look like it's important. it's not. i need to learn to let go.

[instantnotebook]