Light Years Away

It’s almost like you had it planned
It’s like you smiled and shook my hand and said
“Hey, I’m about to screw you over, big time”

It’s how you wanted it to be
It’s like you played a joke on me
And I lost a friend in the end
And I think that I cried for days
But now that seems light years away
And I’m never going back
To who I was

- MoZella

Sometimes I feel like it’s been too long for me to feel this nagging pain and sense of loneliness. I constantly remind myself that life is too short to give up my days to this hurt anymore, just as I remind myself that there are countless tragedies going on in the world and what I’m going through is incomparable. But I just can’t help it. My brain tells me one thing, but all my emotions keep me from putting things in perspective.
I think I do it to myself. Some part of me wants me to wallow. I don’t know why. I don’t want to detach myself from it because it’s like proving that it’s really over, when it really has been over for quite some time. My heart’s not really in it. When you’re sad, the sadness is comforting and happiness is elusive. But at the same time, I’ve been very happy these past few weeks. It’s just those times when I walk down the streets by myself, sit at my desk alone, lie in bed in the darkness that I think about all that could have been. Though I know that this situation is for the best, I wish it weren’t.

Art

Art is tangible emotional residue.

Art has been such a big part of my life for so long, and I feel like in the last couple of years I’ve completely abandoned something so integral to my being. It’s like I pushed it away for the more immediate, practical things in my life.

But I’m not about to give up on it yet.

Because I don’t really care that my parents think I’m going to live in a box one day for being naive, idealistic, impulsive, impractical. I’m young. Let me learn for myself.

I would say I am the ultimate art appreciator. I love fashion, interior design, music, web design, prose. Writing is an art and I haven’t spent too much time on it recently. I observe, I listen, I take it all in but I never create.

I Got This Ice Box Where My Heart Used to Be

Note: I wrote this entry a really long time ago (like months and months and months ago) but I don’t remember when exactly and I never posted it because it was never really finished. It’s still not “finished” but whatever, I’m taking it out of hiding. Just thought I’d mention that it was written way before it was posted.

Oh what a shame, what a rainy ending given to a perfect day
Just walk away, ain’t no use defending words that you will never say
And now that I’m sitting here thinking it through
I’ve never been anywhere cold as you

This entry is dedicated to someone. Kind of. Not really. After all this time putting all the blame on myself, I’m also past putting the blame on you. I can be mature about this. Bygones.

So today I wanted to talk about an issue near and dear to my heart. And that is the issue of “You’re so cold,” directed to me.

Before you start rolling your eyes and dismissing my every sentence hereinafter with a simple, “You are cold. Don’t deny it,” tell me this: Have you never met a single honest person in your life? I mean, what use is sugarcoating the goddamn truth?

Anyway, let’s backtrack. Many people have told me that I’m a cold person. I know I go along with it sometimes and admit to it, but the fact of the matter is it really upsets me. I don’t want that reputation, and it’s like everything I work for just smacks me right back in the face. I believe myself to be a very sympathetic/empathetic person and I despise making people feel bad for my own gain. And yet, I seem to come off cold.

Maybe I’m just not working hard enough at this “nice” thing. And when I say that it sounds like I just want to be fake nice. But I’m not. It’s just that, I once asked my Xanga audience if a mean person decides they want to be nice, would they be acting fake and going against their nature? I received some insightful yet mostly irrelevant answers. I think that being nice can be inherent in personality, but at the same time some part of it is also very voluntary. So perhaps I just need to be more conscious of what I say/do to people.

There are situations, however, when I admit I do act cold, involuntarily. It’s like a quick reaction to things that people do. My body automatically assumes a “hurt others; don’t be the one to get hurt” stance. All my life I’ve been easily offended, small gestures hurt me disproportionately.

I care too much about what people think of me, so I just express no emotion so I don’t come off as stupid, clueless, or ridiculous. I hate people seeing me as too happy or too sad or too mad, depending on the situation, depending on whether my reaction shows myself in an immature or too predictable way. Being “cold” is just a cheap way for me to avoid embarrassing situations. I just really hate people seeing me as vulnerable or so easily susceptible to human follies. I do it so people don’t see me as easy to take advantage of. When I was younger I was afraid of being a doormat and I worried that I couldn’t fend for myself in society. I think through my experiences I overcompensated and developed too hard an exterior. And yet, this is to some extent still a facade. I’m still that overly sensitive girl I always was. But I guess I’m able to block some things out now as well.

Sorry if this entry sounds self-indulgent. It may seem like I’ve got everything figured out, but really all these entries are just me trying to find things out as I go along. The more I write, the more I can try to make sense of all these thoughts in my head. I guess it’s stupid to post it up for the world to see, my faulty train of thought, but I figure it can’t hurt anyway. It at least makes me look like a dedicated blogger hah.

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