eh i dont know.
i found myself the other day feeling as if something was missing. everything around me seemed as it should be, nothing too obvious to report. the day was beautiful, my guy was trying his best despite all the reasons i've given him to not, and i was a breathing human, still alive on this earth.
i'm never too happy with where i am. i know this about myself to be undeniably true.
the grass is perpetually greener on the other, impossible side.
if i am cooped up in a loft in paris, there is something or someone or somewhere else calling me.
if i am dating the love of my life, i am thinking about someone else.
if i should, in all fairness, be beaming with joy over my life, get ready...nope. i am not satisfied.
that's not to say i don't have my happy moments of blissful ignorance.
but overall, moments pass like sand through my fingers, and i spend most of my life wondering where it's all gone.
and when i am grasping it, i don't know it.
i spend a lot of time thinking about the me i once was.
i have found myself in quite a conundrum nowadays, a boyfriend who is married on paper,
with two kids by a wife i doubt very highly gives a flying hoot about me or him or the life we lead together.
i live in someone else's house that i'd rather not, in a place i'd rather not.
i love the friends i surround myself with, but feel like i'm getting nowhere fast.
my music is thriving but i can't write a rhyming scheme to save my life that isn't depressing as all get out, and i find that i have the debilitating urge to travel the world (of course when i was travelling the world i wanted nothing else but to be in the states making music, obviously).
i want a life that is at once unbelievably, fantastically, tall-tale-like, brimming with impossible places, daring feats, dirt, travel, characters & schemes. all the while, i happen to be a songwriter.
long island in the winter, heck, even the spring and fall, is someplace i don't relate to anymore.
the east end has lost it's appeal (almost entirely because i have been exposed for a few years now to the actual poverty of adulthood).
fire island is either crawling with assholes or too expensive.
the city is not long island, and it's expensive too surprise.
so i am stuck here. and i am beginning to feel the permanency of this. i am beginning to feel like a loser.
repeatedly saying, "i'm from here. born & raised," almost feels like failure.
no matter how good my music is...i'm here. i'm here, and i'm dangling by a thread.
i'm here and i can't afford to be here. i'm here and i feel like it's a black hole.
i'm here, today, september 2, 2014, and the first whiff of fall in the air sends my seratonin packing.
hell, dopamine is out of here too. you gotta fake that happy now, girl.
i'm realizing my talents and interests are far greater than the things i've amounted to thusfar.
i am not just another girly song on an acoustic guitar.
i am not my voice. i am not just folk.
i am not even that person i've come to be within the past four years.
i am the girl before that, and the one that will hopefully come after.
i dated a guy once who said to me, "i'm not with you for the you you are now. that girl has a lot to work on. i'm with you for the woman i can see you're going to become."
needless to say that didn't work out.
too much waiting, i suppose.
here i am, writing in an online journal i've kept since 10th grade, unable to afford either monetarily or with time & friendship a person that can hear me out & make sense of me, hoping that my own words read back will provide an ultimate answer.
i am empty inside, i am always grasping at straws, i am dangling here completely lost.
i am the only one who knows this. i can't stop thinking about greener pastures, and i am tired of fertilizing the one i stand on, because it keeps dying. i don't know why.
is it my poor decisions? should i have said "no, goddamnit, you're still married and i respect myself more than to get involved with you"?
yeah, maybe.
but i didn't at the time. like, much much worse than now.
i don't know if i identify with the me i am right now. i think she's a pushover. and a coward.
i think she's annoying, and depressive, and has nothing to show for herself. i think she's an alcoholic, and she should quit smoking cigarettes. i think she's gained a bit of weight. i think she's never going to be marriage material, or even worse, mother material. just this floating thing.
i guess i may start guerilla blogging here. this is my first attempt and yes, it is dark and depressing and there's no way out of it feeling better, but maybe in time, it'll feel like im getting something off my chest.
i'm never too happy with where i am. i know this about myself to be undeniably true.
the grass is perpetually greener on the other, impossible side.
if i am cooped up in a loft in paris, there is something or someone or somewhere else calling me.
if i am dating the love of my life, i am thinking about someone else.
if i should, in all fairness, be beaming with joy over my life, get ready...nope. i am not satisfied.
that's not to say i don't have my happy moments of blissful ignorance.
but overall, moments pass like sand through my fingers, and i spend most of my life wondering where it's all gone.
and when i am grasping it, i don't know it.
i spend a lot of time thinking about the me i once was.
i have found myself in quite a conundrum nowadays, a boyfriend who is married on paper,
with two kids by a wife i doubt very highly gives a flying hoot about me or him or the life we lead together.
i live in someone else's house that i'd rather not, in a place i'd rather not.
i love the friends i surround myself with, but feel like i'm getting nowhere fast.
my music is thriving but i can't write a rhyming scheme to save my life that isn't depressing as all get out, and i find that i have the debilitating urge to travel the world (of course when i was travelling the world i wanted nothing else but to be in the states making music, obviously).
i want a life that is at once unbelievably, fantastically, tall-tale-like, brimming with impossible places, daring feats, dirt, travel, characters & schemes. all the while, i happen to be a songwriter.
long island in the winter, heck, even the spring and fall, is someplace i don't relate to anymore.
the east end has lost it's appeal (almost entirely because i have been exposed for a few years now to the actual poverty of adulthood).
fire island is either crawling with assholes or too expensive.
the city is not long island, and it's expensive too surprise.
so i am stuck here. and i am beginning to feel the permanency of this. i am beginning to feel like a loser.
repeatedly saying, "i'm from here. born & raised," almost feels like failure.
no matter how good my music is...i'm here. i'm here, and i'm dangling by a thread.
i'm here and i can't afford to be here. i'm here and i feel like it's a black hole.
i'm here, today, september 2, 2014, and the first whiff of fall in the air sends my seratonin packing.
hell, dopamine is out of here too. you gotta fake that happy now, girl.
i'm realizing my talents and interests are far greater than the things i've amounted to thusfar.
i am not just another girly song on an acoustic guitar.
i am not my voice. i am not just folk.
i am not even that person i've come to be within the past four years.
i am the girl before that, and the one that will hopefully come after.
i dated a guy once who said to me, "i'm not with you for the you you are now. that girl has a lot to work on. i'm with you for the woman i can see you're going to become."
needless to say that didn't work out.
too much waiting, i suppose.
here i am, writing in an online journal i've kept since 10th grade, unable to afford either monetarily or with time & friendship a person that can hear me out & make sense of me, hoping that my own words read back will provide an ultimate answer.
i am empty inside, i am always grasping at straws, i am dangling here completely lost.
i am the only one who knows this. i can't stop thinking about greener pastures, and i am tired of fertilizing the one i stand on, because it keeps dying. i don't know why.
is it my poor decisions? should i have said "no, goddamnit, you're still married and i respect myself more than to get involved with you"?
yeah, maybe.
but i didn't at the time. like, much much worse than now.
i don't know if i identify with the me i am right now. i think she's a pushover. and a coward.
i think she's annoying, and depressive, and has nothing to show for herself. i think she's an alcoholic, and she should quit smoking cigarettes. i think she's gained a bit of weight. i think she's never going to be marriage material, or even worse, mother material. just this floating thing.
i guess i may start guerilla blogging here. this is my first attempt and yes, it is dark and depressing and there's no way out of it feeling better, but maybe in time, it'll feel like im getting something off my chest.