(no subject)
Here we go.
I haven't slept more then four hours in the past three days.
(This is full of sap, introspection and nostalgia, and if you've known me for more then four years, you're probably included)
Introspection is inevitable for me. It's impossible to ignore, endless and seems to go on without resolve.
I've tried now for a while to figure out why I feel so dissatisfied with things.
Not unhappy, or even depressed, mind you.
I think it's because somewhere a long the way, something happened in my brain.
I have always been strangely obsessed with being successful, that's nothing new.
I suppose we could trace it to some sort of parental relationship,
or maybe just general feelings of inadequacy as an awkward teenager,
this is all nothing new,
but somewhere it became about other people's definition of success.
How lame.
So it was like, I looked at myself, and here I was, not filling anyone's expected quota for success.
(which is of course completely false anyways, therefore negating the entire thing.)
But this was happening in my brain, nevertheless.
Yeah, lame.
So then I looked back, trying to figure out when that happened.
Upon looking back, I remembered what things were like.
Before.
Before I started making my model faces in pictures.
When I was chubby, but wore midriffs anyway to stay cool when I was dancing.
Before I decided not to let people in my house when it was messy.
Before it was so easy to be passive aggressive.
Before the Internet began to change the way people communicated.
Before self-inflicted expectations.
Before I decided to care about other people's expectations.
You could say I just didn't know better,
but beyond that.
Before a good night was defined by pseudo celebrity sightings and glamorous after-parties.
(which are still all amazing and totally valid, just...different, and certainly not isolated.)
I never feel like I lost sight of myself, but I let others,
which is just as much of a betrayal.
I remembered what it was like to live with a totally different set of priorities.
I mean, it's really that fucking easy.
Def-i-ni-tion:Noun
2. The act or process of defining what a word of expression means.
I feel content.
I feel successful.
And these feelings
are valid.
So here I am, feeling them
Like a champ.
And it was really just that easy.
Fake eyelash glue in the eyes.
I'll blame my blindness on that.
AND NOW!
THE NOSTALGIA THAT BROUGHT US HERE.
(because you're all still here.)
(yeah, ohmygodsomanybloody pictures, be careful!)
This is a thank you.
It's like a montage!
(I'm not even kidding with this one...)
I have so much love for you all.
There was never a doubt in that.
I haven't slept more then four hours in the past three days.
(This is full of sap, introspection and nostalgia, and if you've known me for more then four years, you're probably included)
Introspection is inevitable for me. It's impossible to ignore, endless and seems to go on without resolve.
I've tried now for a while to figure out why I feel so dissatisfied with things.
Not unhappy, or even depressed, mind you.
I think it's because somewhere a long the way, something happened in my brain.
I have always been strangely obsessed with being successful, that's nothing new.
I suppose we could trace it to some sort of parental relationship,
or maybe just general feelings of inadequacy as an awkward teenager,
this is all nothing new,
but somewhere it became about other people's definition of success.
How lame.
So it was like, I looked at myself, and here I was, not filling anyone's expected quota for success.
(which is of course completely false anyways, therefore negating the entire thing.)
But this was happening in my brain, nevertheless.
Yeah, lame.
So then I looked back, trying to figure out when that happened.
Upon looking back, I remembered what things were like.
Before.
Before I started making my model faces in pictures.
When I was chubby, but wore midriffs anyway to stay cool when I was dancing.
Before I decided not to let people in my house when it was messy.
Before it was so easy to be passive aggressive.
Before the Internet began to change the way people communicated.
Before self-inflicted expectations.
Before I decided to care about other people's expectations.
You could say I just didn't know better,
but beyond that.
Before a good night was defined by pseudo celebrity sightings and glamorous after-parties.
(which are still all amazing and totally valid, just...different, and certainly not isolated.)
I never feel like I lost sight of myself, but I let others,
which is just as much of a betrayal.
I remembered what it was like to live with a totally different set of priorities.
I mean, it's really that fucking easy.
Def-i-ni-tion:Noun
2. The act or process of defining what a word of expression means.
I feel content.
I feel successful.
And these feelings
are valid.
So here I am, feeling them
Like a champ.
And it was really just that easy.
Fake eyelash glue in the eyes.
I'll blame my blindness on that.
AND NOW!
THE NOSTALGIA THAT BROUGHT US HERE.
(because you're all still here.)
(yeah, ohmygodsomanybloody pictures, be careful!)
This is a thank you.
It's like a montage!
(I'm not even kidding with this one...)
I have so much love for you all.
There was never a doubt in that.