Summer rolls on in.

I have officially finished my freshman year of college.

It doesn't feel like much right now.
Feels like I can breathe again.
Feels like I can think about the simple pleasure and less about the gotta-do's.

I can make a list of things I want to do,
not things I have to do.

I have so much time now.
So much time to put my heart into everything that I do.
So much time to meet new people.
Reconnect.
Love.
Learn something about myself.

My goal for this summer:
Don't stop smiling.

I want a reason to laugh every minute.
Only cry when I'm happy.
Act on my spontaneous impulses.
Follow my gut instinct.
Hug my friends every chance I get.

This summer is about me being a better person.


This is going to be the best summer yet.

Transcending.

I have transcended caring...
I honestly do not care anymore.

It is just too much work to try and keep up a good face with the whole world.
There are too many people who are just so fucking critical.
Too many people that smile at your face and spit with their nasty tongues as soon as you look away.
Too many people who pretend they care about you.
Too many people who think they have it bad.
Too many people who lead such trivial lives that they will never know themselves.
Too many people who migrate with the largest herd.
Too many people who assimilate to their surroundings and forget who they are.
Too many people.

The friends I had at one time, are no longer there.
They are just people.
People who have let me down.
People who have left me behind.
Too many people.

And that spot in my chest that was hurting for so long...
It is so hollow.
And all I can say about that emptiness is that...


It feels so good.

My Smile.

I think about my smile a lot.

I love smiling.
I believe it is the single most best thing anyone could ever do with their face.
It makes me feel good and lets the rest of my body know it is okay to relax.

But then I think about how I must look when I smile. I see it in a reflection and I get embarrassed. It seems ugly to me. So broad, showing off my gums. Flaunting my gaps. All I can see are imperfections in this smile of mine. And I payed those men to make it right, but they let me down.

I think about how every time I open my mouth someone is probably looking into it with disgust. Thinking maybe I might be in pain rather than happy. Hoping that I will shut my lips soon so they have one less thing to worry about.

My smile is obnoxious and obtrusive.
It reflects who I am.
... and I can't say if I like that or not.

But I will keep on smiling and hope that someone finds it beautiful.

Gossip.

Talking dirt.

Talking trash.

I don't like to do it myself, but I feel sometimes I can't help it. Sometimes I have to hold back from gossiping about myself, revealing information that I have been trying to keep under wraps. I find it easy to hear gossip from other people, that way I don't feel guilty for spreading it, I'm just the receiver.

I have those certain friends that would gossip all day if they could. Tell me every little detail of everyone I ever knew, and some people I didn't know. What drives people to gossip? Whether the information is true or untrue. What do people gain from talking about others? Adrenaline. A sense of danger, of breaking the rules. People get a rush. They feel important for holding information that no one else knows. Powerful. The ability to hold someone elses reputation on the tip of their tongue.


Excitement. A thrill.
Lets speak softly and not worry about the consequences.

Home.

Being home.
It is suppose to feel warm and comfortable.

But I can't seem to fall in to place.

I think I am paranoid. I keep thinking maybe all my supposed friends are avoiding me... making up excuses so they don't have to see me. It's just strange... in high school I was friends with everyone, but I realize now the difference between friends and dependents. I struggle to find someone here that I really trust... that I would honestly count as a true friend. It hurts me a little but also makes me feel better about where I am now. The new home I have found seems that much more strong. I find it is filled with several people who I can count on through the thick and thin. True friends who want to share all of my moments with me and don't hide under rocks when I come running.

Sometimes the things you thought you loved fade out and reveal something truer underneath.

A guilty city.

I have been feeling a lot of guilt this week.

I always seem to feel guilty when everything is really out of my control, or when ever I put myself before someone else. It eats me up inside, to think about myself before another. But sometimes I just can't help it, if I don't do something for me I feel like I am gonna just go crazy.

I feel guilty about how lost he is...
I feel guilty about how I turned her away...
I feel guilty for the almost home...
I feel guilty for liking him so much...
I feel guilty for say bad things behind backs...
I feel guilty for snapping at my friends...
I feel guilty for not forcing myself to act on impulse...
I feel guilty for ignoring my mother...
I feel guilty.

And the guilt hits me so hard every time. It's like I can feel it moving around in my body. That little thing in the back of the mind that is ever present, that just sits there and stews. It makes me apologize when I don't mean it because I just want everyone to like me... I don't like to think about people saying bad things about me. I don't like to think about having enemies. It makes me wonder how many people I have turned against me... how many friends I have lost.

I sometimes think that the very act of trying to avoid disappointing anyone is what drives people away.

I want to be an honest and forward person... but I don't want to hurt anyone.

I get caught in a place where I have no direction. Where do I go from here? And how can I make this right?

Somethings are just meant to be lost, I suppose.

A reoccurring dream.

It's 1:40am.
He just left.
I'm bored.

I made this blog cause I thought maybe it might lead to something.

It reminds me of this reoccurring dream I use to have my freshman year of high school. It was simple enough. I would dream that I started a blog that said all the things I really felt about my boyfriend at the time. How I hated loving him. How I hated the way he pushed me when I wasn't ready. How I loved blaming myself for how shitty I felt... all the things I would never have the strength to say to him. And then I would be sitting next to him when he accidentally pulled up my blog... he sat there and read it for some time, no expression on his face. Then a smile cracked, and he just started laughing... laughing at my foolishness. Laughing at the feelings I had. Laughing. And my insides felt cold, and it felt so real. It felt like my heart was breaking every time I had that dream... and it took me a hundred times before I realized my heart really was breaking.

Dreams have a funny way of letting you know what you are really feeling... because sometimes you are just too afraid to accept it on your own... Sometimes you just need a little push in the right direction. A slap in the face.