Forgot to wear my mask today.

Got up early and forgot to put on my mask. Forgot to hide it all deep down. I'm sorry but I just ran out of time to swallow all the fear and the pain that creeps up in the night. I did my best. I tried to crawl out from under it this morning. There was a sharp pain and I got a slap across the heart.
It's always a prettier day when I put my mask on, my rose colored glasses. I forgot them today, didn't have time for them today.
I tried to see the world in a happy light. I smiled. I said hello. I made small talk. I still feel hollow inside.
I still feel like falling asleep in the snow. I still feel like clocking out early, quitting. I still just want this day to end.

I'm going to be the coolest friend you ever had.

I decided last night that I am going to be the greatest person with a real job that you know! I decided when I have money and a car I'm going to be a spectacular friend. One day I'm going to drive up to Rexburg and tell Merilee to get in the car. I'll go pick up Steven and Martin and then we'll head west. When they ask where we're going I'll tell them we're going to California for the weekend. These are the things that float around my head constantly, but I have neither money or a car. That would be an amazing adventure. Someday.

Stranger than Fiction

There are some stories that speak to the instance of human life. They speak of worlds that dwell inside each of us. Three are some stories that do not delve into the psyche at all. They resoundly dwell outside of the mind, outside of the heart, outside of the soul. They are the meaningless plants that surround the house. Sure they required work and devotion by a person, but that person did not bring the audience to their knees. There are books that so speak to the core of humanity that they cause all the world to change. They cause what was once so solid, so sound, to rattle around inside of you. You feel at once so empty and yet so completely filled by this idea. You feel so encompassed and alone.

I guess that is why love is so easy for me. I have felt it over and over and over again. It comes to me as words on a page, a world in my mind, a book in my hand and love in my heart. There is no way to completely describe the way the written word has affected my life. I do know that love, romantic love, drives me to write. When I fall so deeply in love that the world spins on golden axis I find myself constantly with pen and paper. I find little quips coming to mind, story ideas flooding from the oddest places and literature in what I never thought I would consider. Love pulls me into the world of what ifs and maybes. Outside of love I am a very sensible person, but just as a good book pulls you into a new world, so does a deep love. A solid love. A love that fills you up so completely that you forget to eat. A love that makes your scars ache for that person. A love that tells you that someday, not today, but someday that person will realize they will see it all. It’s not a hope you have, but a fact that Love is telling you. There is no doubt in my mind that someday he’ll realize what we could’ve been. But today may not be that day. Tomorrow may not be that day. Maybe years from now when his wife picks up my book from Barnes and Nobles he’ll realize what he missed out on. Maybe when the class ends and he walks away from this school forever he’ll think ‘man I wish I had gotten to know her, she seemed so cool’. But even if he doesn’t recognize it then, someday he will see it.

Just as someday the best literature comes and finds you and says “Hey! Remember me? you’re going to love me from now on” well just like that he’ll remember me, and he’ll love me forever. So here is to hope and love! Let’s pour one out for fallen comrades and our dearly departed ancestors. I always wanted to go to the beach with a bunch of English majors and root beer in glass bottles. Then we could say things like that and the other people wouldn’t think we were weird. Salude.

Perfect Houses

I’m sick of perfect houses. I’m sick of exteriors that look prestine and tranquil. I’m sick of hiding my emotions. I walk down this quaint family street and see so many silent happy houses. How may bruises were created behind that closed door? How many broken hearts were born there? Our whole lives we’ve been told

Shove it down your throat.

Swallow it.

Accept that no one is going to want to hear about your sob story and go on with it. Really? Am I never going to be understood? Every morning am I going to have to put on a mask? Is this the rest of my life?
This is bull that’s what it is.

Everyone is hiding something. Everyone has got something deep down in their stomach that they fear other people will find out. They’re scared that when they’re friends find out they’ll pull away. They say that the honest are alone. But why!?!

Why the heck do we act like this?!?

All of us are experiencing it on some level or another! Why can’t we share it?

I see these movies where the characters admit the truth and after a bit they accept it and everything is hunky dory. I know life isn’t going to be like that. Life is messy and life is broken and shattered. People mess stuff up and they love and they hate and everything gets jumbled up, but how many times have you wished you could just express your truest emotions to someone?!?

I guess that’s why I don’t belong. Because about 95% of the time what you see on the surface is whats happening underneath. Sure I hide somethings, but I’ll tell you them to your face. What I’m really hiding is the pain. The anger. The scared little girl that is still inside. I can tell you my life story without crying now, but that’s only after years of training. I was taught emotions make you weak. When they see you cry they can hurt you. I think we were all told that. We all hate to cry in front of someone.

I’ll tell you about the abuse. I’ll tell you about the pain. I’ll tell you about falling asleep to the screams. I’ll tell you about my sister, my protector, leaving me behind. I’ll tell you all those things without a tear.

But they hurt.

That’s what I’m afraid to say. I’m afraid to say that I feel. I’m afraid that if I admit that I feel people will turn away. I’m the happy go lucky fat girl. I make people laugh. Underneath it all? Underneath it all I’m just as broken as you are.

But it’s true about happiness too. We shun those who seem overly happy. Those who are genuinely excited about life. Sometimes I just get so happy I can’t contain it. I just have to move to jump to sing. People say I’m weird, quirky, cooky, nuts etc etc. Why is that so wrong?

And I’m surrounded by these girls who hide their feelings. I tell them I want to tell our guy friend off and they say it’s mean or rude or will scare him away. Why do I care? He treats us like crap! Why should I care how he feels if he doesn’t care how I feel? It doesn’t make sense. If we really are friends he should be able to work with it, to understand and move on.

But instead we play these games. We pretend we like them, and sometimes we do, but then when they’re gone we get this knot in our stomach that begs the question why are we still friends with him?

Why can’t I cry in front of you? Why can’t I express my real feelings and keep my friends? I’m sick of all these perfect houses with their doors shut to me. I try and present myself as I truly am on the inside. I try and show you the cracks, the breaks, the sags. But I can not show you how I feel. You wouldn’t love me if I did.

I honestly don't know why we hate on each other

Everyone is having problems. You hate someone because they do something that you think is dumb or because they support something you don’t support. Guess what! We’re all human! We’re all going to believe different things! You want to know something that very few people here know about me?

I’m Mormon, I love my religion, and I support gay rights!

About 90% of people would hate me because of one of the above! But guess what?!? I love myself. I am a walking enigma, things don’t make sense, but guess what! Nothing is supposed to make sense! Things are jumbled up and disorderly because nothing is perfect. So hate on my religion, go for it! I’ll ignore you because my faith is strong enought that I don’t care what you say. But guess what! I also care enough about other people to not feel like I need to pressure them! Some of my best friends are atheists. How do I exist?!? Because I love people. That is what comes first in my book. People. I don’t like to be hurt, why should you? Why should I hurt you? who gives me the right to make you feel guilty because of something you believe in? I don’t have that right, no one does. So I’m not going to hate on anyone. I may ask you questions on why you feel a certain way, but in no way are they meant to be mean or rude. I may hate some things that you love, but I do not feel the need to convert you to my side. You are entitled to your opinion as you are to yours. I do not write about things that bug me because i want to convert people to my point of view. I do it because I need to express it to myself. If you don’t like what I write you are beyond welcome to unfollow me. I am purely myself and I love that!

So here it is: I’m 21, fat, never been kissed, never been asked on a date, Mormon, support gay rights, friends with atheists baptists methodists etc etc, listen to punk and rock music, emotionally abused my entire life, hopeful, romantic, loving. Thats who I am. and so much more. If you want to get to know me go for it! I welcome anyone and everyone. Lets chat on our various ideas. I don’t accept hate though. Sorry.

About the suicides of late due to bullying on sexuality.

My heart goes out to their families. To their friends. And most of all to them. I know they’re safe in God’s arms again.

What I just kind of wanted to say though was that all suicides should receive this much attention. People are saying on here that nobody should feel like they did, that they don’t belong or aren’t worthy. But the thing is a lot of people feel like that. Not just those who are bullied because of their homosexuality. It seems like so much attention is focused on the fact that they were gay and that they took their lives because of other peoples influence on them. Well, I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t understand why the focus has to be on the fact that they were gay. In July a good friend of mine killed himself. The world didn’t stop. The world kept spinning. No one even said anything at school to me. An email was sent out on the school email telling us and when his funeral would be. That was it. I had to work through that with absolutely no support from the people around me. That day was just another beat in the symphony of life.

I guess what I’m getting at is that the tragedy is that they ended their lives. Those bullies were wrong and then need to be held accountable, but I think every life that ends at their own hands deserves this kind of attention.

I have held the knife to my wrist and I used to burn myself severly to get rid of the pain, but I never went through with it. I can not imagine the pain they were in to do that. Thats why I honor those boys. Not because they were persecuted because of their sexuality, but because there was no one there for them. I wish I could be there for every person who feels like that. Every soul that doesn’t feel like it could go on.

I miss Dustin. If he would’ve said anything I would’ve been there. Thats the worst pain I have felt in such a long time. My roommates that semester didn’t even know. No one did.

Note: I do not at all look down on homosexuality and I am a supporter of gay rights. I do not hate people.

So Christmas is Right around the corner!

Here is the list of things I want.

1. Boots

2. Boat Shoes

3. Mr. Perfect

4. The boy I call Stud.

But cash works too.