Friday, August 8, 2014

MOIST/The Wrong Side Of The Bed

Today is one of those days where I really want to just punt a small child. An evil small child, good children don't deserve to be punted.

I have morals.

Nothing happened, I literally woke up and on my way to work started crying over a stupid joke that would normally not offend me. I just felt this flood open up behind my eyeballs and this feeling of anger and futility washed over me.

My boyfriend was very confused, and the people around us probably thought he just dumped me.

My family has spoken of my infamous temper that showed its first inklings as a toddler.  My first word was "eso" (in english: that) And i used it conjunction to anything that captured my fancy. I wanted it all, and by golly fuck all y'all I was gonna get it. So I'd plant my feet, raise my clenched little fists and scream/grunt out of my q-tip shaped head :"EEEEEEEEEEEESSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I know if I ever do decide to have children, there will be a major ass kicking from karma for this.

As I grew older, I learned to suppress my anger, especially after I started acting out violently to those I loved most.  I was a spanked child, and after a while I didn't see anything wrong with hitting first or hitting back. This is why spanking is mostly counter intuitive, unless you want to raise a socio-pathic Jackie Chan.

But as the law of energy goes, it doesn't disappear, it just transfers to something else. And it became through my tears.  I just started to leak, at the slightest provocation. And I was mocked, oh boy, how I was mocked.

My family thought I was being melodramatic. Boyfriends thought I was manipulative. Friends thought I was suicidal.

I thought I was wussy.

But fuck them, I'm not.  I may throw tantrums over little things and I may cry when I see a dog die in movies, but I rarely hurt people I love. I have always owned up to being wrong. I have been stoic and strong when it mattered for others more than myself. I have cried with people when they needed to not feel so alone.

So what, am I gonna cry about it?

You betcha, motherfucker.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

The Walking Cliche

I have been 25 for roughly two days, and so far, it's a drag.

My birthday was lovely. Dinner was lovely. Everyone I spent it with was very kind to me and loving and I have never felt more cared for.

Or alone.

Not in the romantic sense, or even the familial sense; but in this all encompassing sense that stems from not feeling I am doing anything with my life other than just getting by.  Knowing another year has gone by and I feel like I have had to let go of so many dreams.  I didn't even know what to wish for when I blew out my candles, so I  made some vague and general wishes that seemed to be appropriate.

I may not believe in God, but I'm still not telling you my wishes, bitch.

I remember the first time I ever decided I wanted to be an actor.  I grew up on Selena and Annie, always performing my little cabarets in front of the mirror in my basement. I was so obsessed with Annie that even when I was turned down for the role in my second grade play I sang her songs backstage with such gusto the kids HATED me for it. But fuck them, they were all assholes.

I also used to pretend I was an orphan and purposely wore tattered clothes, which simultaneously worried my parents and just confirmed my mistrust in Child Protective Services.

Now I'm 25, and wondering what to do. I have little dreams: wanting to participate in roller derby, traveling all over the world, owning several dogs. I then have bigger dreams: Giving an uplifting speech in front of a ton of people (real scientific terminology here), inspiring people to adopt not shop through my own means or a non-profit, and I'd love to receive an award for something. It doesn't have to be anything major, but I haven't received an award since I graduated High School and  I miss the validation.

I'd like to be able to help my parents out when they're no longer able to work. I'd like to be completely independent.

I would like to wake up each morning without palpitations.

Who knows how many of these dreams I'll have to kill?  I already have a lot of blood on my hands.

-Grace #Adulting