Something needs to change. I keep getting tangled up with shitty people. People that do not fit with me. People who keep me unhappy.
No matter how upset I get I have to remember not to hurt myself on purpose. I just want to intentionally screw up things for myself as punishment. I want to take the hurt I feel and use it to hurt myself. I should channel it into something more productive, but right now I just feel so down. Earth can really be hell for me most of the time. I’m getting stretched so much these days, it hurts. Things are so much better when I’m alone, but maybe being alone needs to change. Maybe being alone isn’t as comforting as I think it is. I want to isolate myself when I get hurt, so maybe I should speak up instead. Okay Have a Great Morning!
Do I dream in color? I thought about this and realized that maybe there is no color…Maybe the plane of my sub conscious goes beyond color. I always assume that my dreams are in color, but then again I can not vividly remember any color being present. I just experienced something, and color had no significance to me at the time. I do not believe the sub conscious needs color. I think that I go into a dream state and I am apart of that state of being. Color is not something I notice. I am so used to seeing it that I assume it must be there.
Having to change my selfish -ness feels so gross. It feels so uncomfortable, it hurts. I feel like if I stop fighting it, and let myself be then something bad will happen. i feel like i get influenced by everybody, and I am afraid that someone is going to ruin me. I won’t even see it coming. i will be bad and not even know it.
I wonder if all people age at different rates?
Remember 2012? That seems so long ago to me, but before that, say in 2013, I would feel like 2012 was still so new. My car had a spankin’ brand new feel to it in 2016, but now it seems old. But why? It has just been time that has passed, and some time seems to pass faster than other times, while some times’ seem to drag. Could time pass differently for everyone? Ages and birthdays are just a way that I choose to keep track of time, but does time actually exist? Is this the reason why certain people look older than their apparent “age”?
What do they think?
They is loosely meaning all of us, all those invisible standards we live by that is ingrained within our own cultures. Standards that develop and redevelop all through the years. I saw a commercial talking about dick size and I wondered what if having a big dick was considered un-attractive? What if guys with big dicks got made fun of for that, and any girl that had a man with a big dick is “missing out”. So I thought that it really doesn’t matter whether the quality you like about someone or something, or anything really, is not what is widely accepted. Because somewhere else that quality is the ideal. Ideals change anyway so its kind of dumb to reject things we like for the sake of reality right?
Today I’m sad. When I first moved to Deer Park to live with my grandparents it was hard to find my place in this small town. I was able to enroll myself into school and get myself a job at the Starbucks right up the street from me. I remember I would go up there everyday until the manager finally hired me. I gritted my teeth and bit my tongue a lot at that store, but I also made some very good friends there. The relationships I have with my coworkers are seriously unique to any other place I have ever worked at. Everyone was passionate about Starbucks, wanted to make it better, and I wanted to be apart of that. I quickly built on my skills and poured a lot of my heart into that place. Before I knew it a year and a half had passed and I was still in love with it all. There was a boy that always came to Starbucks, then eventually worked there, and I fell really hard for him. Things were not so pleasant in the end between us, but even after he quit working there he would still come every day. I’ve gotten another job since then that allows me to work at Starbucks on the weekend and after a few months of this I feel like i need to quit. This boy somehow still triggers some part of me every time I see him. He intermingles with all of the coworkers that I have friendships with and still keeps it apart of his life. Starbucks is hard to let go of. Most baristas always say “you’ll be back” after someone quits in an angry rage, but soon enough they come back with an application in hand and the look of remorse smeared across their face. The relationships you can cultivate there, the work family that you have is really special. You suffer together, you laugh together, you complain together, and you celebrate together. I feel like it’s time for me to go. My place in that little family is starting to dissapear, and it brought tears to my eyes to admit that I knew it was my time. I tried to hold on to the little bit that I could, but its time to let it go. I’ll be thankful for the rest that will come my way and that I will not have to see that boy ever again. But I will miss the experience. I was damn good at being a barista too, but I’m not needed there anymore.