(no subject)
There is nothing like writing in your journal with ink on some paper, but sometimes it feels nice just to get thoughts out of my head, period.
The full moon happened last night, last one of the year. And for some reason, I woke up feeling like the worst is over? Maybe it's because my friend Finn dropped off his little chiuahua Tig and she's a little fire ball of energy and love, but I really feel a difference today. Right now I feel like I don't need to smoke anything nor engage in imaginative masturbation with myself. Could this be the effects of rising before 8? Or, could it be because I finally got Ray Charlie out of my hair once and for all????
I can't believe that before this week I was seriously contemplating moving back to the valley to live with my grandmother and attempt schooling of some sort. First I saw it on Facebook, that Mike was back in the valley. Then my mom's weird behavior over the phone the last couple of weeks allowed me to put two and two together. Eventually, this Monday I brought it up to her and she confessed all of the hardships that she's been through just in in that past weekend with my brother. Aaaaayyyeeee!!!!!! Dios pinche mio!!!! Honestly I'm either trying to not think about it or at least stay positive about it if i am going to let it cross my mind. It's not that he's down there with my family that's so bad, but it is what he does to them. Did we not go through all of this shit exactly ten years ago? Well, at least it all started about ten years ago.
Michael was such a great human being, and I'd like to think that some of that greatness is still left intact within him. You see, it was back in 2003, around Christmas time that I first saw him doped up on heroin. That night shifted a lot of things in my life as it brought me to a place i'd never ever been emotionally and mentally. I will never forget that night, especially because before 2004 I didn't smoke any marijuana or drink alcohol at all. Was that the night I began my quest for constant impairment? In high school, unless I rigged things perfectly, I wasn't ever really able to do things like go out and party or much less freely hang out with friends. I spent a lot of time working on the yearbook my senior year or hanging out in my room listening to self-discovered indie music. When I took off to Barry, I immidately incorporated alcohol and weed into being my main manner of coping with things. Really though, I wasn't facing the issue head on and getting through it, I was just masking my emotions because they were too intense for me to feel. Much like what I've been going through the last month, just trying to block out any kind of sadness with things that give me temporary pleasure.
It's funny how our mind can trick us into thinking differently or completely forgetting things altogether. It's like I had forgotten that this all ever took place. Naturally, you want to forget things and forgive people and move on, but where do you draw the line on forgetting what that person did to you?
Too many things on my mind to write about just a few.
Then a friend who lives in the same town calls and you talk for 45 minutes because you don't have time to hang out face to face.
Basically, I feel like i'm reliving 2004. This feels like the universe is saying, " Hey Steph, you really fucked up your life by lashing out at his addiction, so now....you are in the mountains, fully independent, fully on your own (again). Let's see how you do this time, okay?" Is there really a difference other than location though? I mean, I know i'm only partial vegan these days, but the clarity that I am capable of experiencing can sometimes be overwhelming.
I told my mother and myself though, that there has to be a reason for him to be there right now. Whether it ignites something in another family member to take healthy action for themselves or for him, or whether he's home so he can be incarserated or burried, I won't know until anything happens. Jail or death sound synical but honestly, those seem like kind of positive things for a deranged soul such as his.
Fuck my life. It's already 10.
Today is the last day I drag ass in life. There are too many ideas that are still flowing out of me and I have yet to write them down, only verbalize to any friend that'll listen.
I will leave this post with some things that I am incredibly grateful for and should relish in. Domestic animals and the power they contain to make you laugh, love, relax, motivate, and console. 421 1/2 Elk Avenue and my wonderful landlords who have graciously leased their home to me for almost a year and a half. The ex's in my life that have allowed me to see my flaws, strengths, passions, weaknesses and most of all, the lack of self-love that I so desperately need to tend to in my daily life. Crested Butte, Colorado, such an amazing combination of mother nature and community that embraces quirky and unique but will also bend over backwards, sacrificing themselves to an industrious economy so that others can enjoy the Elk Mountain Range.
The full moon happened last night, last one of the year. And for some reason, I woke up feeling like the worst is over? Maybe it's because my friend Finn dropped off his little chiuahua Tig and she's a little fire ball of energy and love, but I really feel a difference today. Right now I feel like I don't need to smoke anything nor engage in imaginative masturbation with myself. Could this be the effects of rising before 8? Or, could it be because I finally got Ray Charlie out of my hair once and for all????
I can't believe that before this week I was seriously contemplating moving back to the valley to live with my grandmother and attempt schooling of some sort. First I saw it on Facebook, that Mike was back in the valley. Then my mom's weird behavior over the phone the last couple of weeks allowed me to put two and two together. Eventually, this Monday I brought it up to her and she confessed all of the hardships that she's been through just in in that past weekend with my brother. Aaaaayyyeeee!!!!!! Dios pinche mio!!!! Honestly I'm either trying to not think about it or at least stay positive about it if i am going to let it cross my mind. It's not that he's down there with my family that's so bad, but it is what he does to them. Did we not go through all of this shit exactly ten years ago? Well, at least it all started about ten years ago.
Michael was such a great human being, and I'd like to think that some of that greatness is still left intact within him. You see, it was back in 2003, around Christmas time that I first saw him doped up on heroin. That night shifted a lot of things in my life as it brought me to a place i'd never ever been emotionally and mentally. I will never forget that night, especially because before 2004 I didn't smoke any marijuana or drink alcohol at all. Was that the night I began my quest for constant impairment? In high school, unless I rigged things perfectly, I wasn't ever really able to do things like go out and party or much less freely hang out with friends. I spent a lot of time working on the yearbook my senior year or hanging out in my room listening to self-discovered indie music. When I took off to Barry, I immidately incorporated alcohol and weed into being my main manner of coping with things. Really though, I wasn't facing the issue head on and getting through it, I was just masking my emotions because they were too intense for me to feel. Much like what I've been going through the last month, just trying to block out any kind of sadness with things that give me temporary pleasure.
It's funny how our mind can trick us into thinking differently or completely forgetting things altogether. It's like I had forgotten that this all ever took place. Naturally, you want to forget things and forgive people and move on, but where do you draw the line on forgetting what that person did to you?
Too many things on my mind to write about just a few.
Then a friend who lives in the same town calls and you talk for 45 minutes because you don't have time to hang out face to face.
Basically, I feel like i'm reliving 2004. This feels like the universe is saying, " Hey Steph, you really fucked up your life by lashing out at his addiction, so now....you are in the mountains, fully independent, fully on your own (again). Let's see how you do this time, okay?" Is there really a difference other than location though? I mean, I know i'm only partial vegan these days, but the clarity that I am capable of experiencing can sometimes be overwhelming.
I told my mother and myself though, that there has to be a reason for him to be there right now. Whether it ignites something in another family member to take healthy action for themselves or for him, or whether he's home so he can be incarserated or burried, I won't know until anything happens. Jail or death sound synical but honestly, those seem like kind of positive things for a deranged soul such as his.
Fuck my life. It's already 10.
Today is the last day I drag ass in life. There are too many ideas that are still flowing out of me and I have yet to write them down, only verbalize to any friend that'll listen.
I will leave this post with some things that I am incredibly grateful for and should relish in. Domestic animals and the power they contain to make you laugh, love, relax, motivate, and console. 421 1/2 Elk Avenue and my wonderful landlords who have graciously leased their home to me for almost a year and a half. The ex's in my life that have allowed me to see my flaws, strengths, passions, weaknesses and most of all, the lack of self-love that I so desperately need to tend to in my daily life. Crested Butte, Colorado, such an amazing combination of mother nature and community that embraces quirky and unique but will also bend over backwards, sacrificing themselves to an industrious economy so that others can enjoy the Elk Mountain Range.