Not that I'm begging or anything...

I'm writing this on my boyfriend's laptop while he's sleeping. Originally I was going to look up a music video to show him, but since I have no idea who the artist is or what the video is called, or anything else that would help me find it, I ended up googling things like "singer in forest with a drum and she ends up in a mirror tent-raft in the middle of al lake somewhere+sounds like Feist," until I bored him unconscious.

Also, if anyone knows what that song is called, I will write a 1000 word essay on why you win at life, and I will send it to the editorial section of whichever newspaper is your favorite. Or I'll put it up on the internet somewhere, and that shit's eternal. In 500 years, people will still know how awesome you are. I am totally serious, because I fucking LOVE that music video.

AND sleep.

Huzzah for self-confidence!

*I wrote this when I was in Nottingham, and incredibly homesick. I was in a very antisocial and destructive period in my life, and I was so afraid of my friends finding out how very badly I was handling everything that I stopped talking to them completely. 

Anyway, after some intense self-pity, and the realization that no one really knew anything about me at all, I decided to write down a few things I knew were true about myself. 

I think I might have submitted this to a student zine, and I think it might have gotten published- I can't remember, but I miss the girl who put out that zine. The zine was called Artemis, and I think her name was Cathleen. I do remember she had blue hair, and was an amazing musician/singer. I definitely had a bit of a girl-crush, but she intimidated the hell out of me because she was so damn cool. An English singer/songwriter who dyed her hair blue and published her own student magazine? Who the hell was I?

I'm not gay, bisexual, or even bi-curious (I am, however, open to suggestions after the proper amount of alcohol), but I'd like to think I've gained enough self-confidence that if I met her again, I'd buy her a drink or two just for being fucking awesome.

And if she happens to read this, Cathleen, you probably have no idea who I am, but you're still one of my role models, and I wish I'd asked you more about Artemis and your music. I hope you've had a fucking awesome life so far, and that it just keeps getting better ;)*

***

The Things We Lie About

***

I’m not antisocial. People frighten me.

No, I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.

I’m   terrified of money. I haven’t checked my bank statements for 5 months.

I wish I could start over again with my mum.

****

I finally learned how to stand up for myself two weeks ago.

If I had more confidence, I think I could make a really good Goth.

I think skinny jeans are the worst thing to happen to women since Hugh Hefner.

I feel incredibly shallow sometimes, and I can’t help it.

Yes, I am afraid of dying alone.

***

I envy people in relationships.

I’m afraid of commitment.

I think the only way changing room mirrors could be more depressing is if someone had written a list of your personal failures, your weight, and your student debt down the side before you stepped in front of it.

I’m afraid of being the least successful person at my high school reunion.

I hate it when people ask me if I’m okay, because I know they don’t want to hear I've just finished crying over something stupid, or that I really miss my parents.

I miss my parents.

I'd rather cut it off entirely, to be honest.

AND I'M BACK.

(insert clever comment here)

In other news, I mangled up my arm pretty good. And then again a few more times. And now I think my bones are infected. The orthopedic people at the hospital agree with me. 

God, narcotic drugs are fantastic. 

Oh yeah, fuck you, Karma. You goddamned axe-wound. 

I sometimes wonder how many orphans I'd have to save to not come back as a fucking Banana slug in my next life.

I wish I could show this to the entire world

Well, they *have.*

Poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese.

- unknown

As long as I'm dreaming, I'd like a new bike.

“I don’t fail. I re-define success.”

.

.

.

I'm going to pretend I was the first person who said that. I'm brilliant, I know. I'm also going to pretend I have a hat that magically fills up with $100 bills whenever I decide I need more $100 bills. I'll be a multi-katrillionaire, and that'll be a real thing because I'm that damn awesome. 

I'll also be half a foot taller. 

...

Starlight, starbright, first star I see tonight...

Nah. Who am I kidding? I just want to be happy. It's not as easy as it sounds, you know. Not for me, anyway. I'm a lot better at sabotaging the sh*t out of myself. So if I had to pick something I'd wish for, I'd wish to have a life that makes me happy.

That's a good thing, right? No selfish intent hiding behind that. And it's true. 

Sonofabitch. Since when am I honest with myself?

My pajamas are telling you to fuck off.

PHOENIX

You are the phoenix! A phoenix is a giant, magnificent bird plumed and wreathed in flame. The phoenix is a symbol of healing and of peace. The phoenix is calm and serene in all things. The phoenix also symbolizes rebirth as this creature is reborn from the ashes of its death during which it erupts into flame and disintegrates. The phoenix can also be a symbol for faith and for hope.

***

At some point I took an online quiz and was told I’m “THE PHOENIX.” That sounds terribly optimistic. Right now I’d love to believe I can “rise from the ashes,” particularly because I’m so spectacularly talented at burning shit down. I think I can still salvage most of the important things, but I’ve been neglecting so many things it’s a wonder there’s anything to salvage. Seriously, why do people still talk to me?

I’m sitting inside a 24-hour Denny’s right now. I’m drinking chamomile tea and pretending I don’t have to go to the bathroom. I’m also not wearing under-things, because Julie kicked me out of bed and told me it’s okay to go to Denny’s completely horrible-looking because it’s fucking Denny’s, and everyone there is a tiny bit less dignified and clean just for being there at midnight.

Besides, there is something wonderful about not giving a shit at all. It’s like you’re giving everyone near you the middle finger. How can you not feel better doing that?