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(no subject) [Apr. 15th, 2013|02:58 pm]
Holy fuck.
I am going through one of the most insecure periods of my life.

The worst part about it is that I am aware that it all starts in my head and that I am responsible for perpetuating a vicious cycle. I am aware that feeling insecure leads to acting insecure, and that nothing looks or feels worse than being an insecure person.

The amount of mental energy I waste on battling this day in and day out is staggering. I could re-paint the Sistine Chapel with the amount of time and energy I spend thinking about myself and feeling sorry for myself.

Last night I laid in bed after what was a pretty great day and still managed to feel awful. How many times am I going to ruin a good day by laying in bed at night mentally twisting and stewing in a bubbling cauldron of bad feelings?

Right now, I feel like shit. I don't have anywhere to go with it, so I internalize it. Later, it will probably come rushing out in the form of anger towards inanimate objects or feelings of dissatisfaction in my relationship. Then I'll feel better, but right before I close my eyes and go to sleep, I'll feel worse. And again tomorrow-- the same.

This is bullshit.
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(no subject) [Nov. 10th, 2012|03:13 pm]
Me cae contra las patas escuchar sobre las relaciones de los demás. Automáticamente me pongo a comparar con la mía y comienzo a imaginar cosas-- cosas que ocurren en otras relaciones que ya no ocurren en la mía. Comienzo a imaginar detalles íntimos. Se me hace una nube la cabeza-- me da vergüenza, me da pena, me comienzo a sentir mal. Es un ejercicio mental torturoso y sucio, pero no puedo detener mi mente. Tomo casi como una ofensa la felicidad de otros-- me perturba y me pone triste. Ya van dos relaciones en las que tengo este hábito y estoy súper cansada de vivir así. Entiendo que nunca debería comparar mi vida con la vida de los demás, que es la primera forma de terminar deprimida. Yo se que no hace sentido imaginar las cosas que ocurren en las vidas de los demás. Pero estoy disatisfecha y no se como cambiar las cosas. Lo peor es que sospecho que no se puede arreglar nada-- que mis opciones son aceptar or salirme y comenzar de nuevo.
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(no subject) [Mar. 3rd, 2012|07:04 pm]
hi Livejournal.

It's been forever.

I'm sitting here in a completely white-walled, empty, sterile room. I've been here for almost 3 hours. I have not worked on a single thing. I made some business cards-- I guess I did that. But I absolutely wasted today. Completely.

Well, I'm fucking miserable.

Oh now I'm completely misusing this room by fucking crying in it. Ridiculous. I hope the man who came in earlier to clean out the trash can doesn't come back. Or the idiots who wanted to steal a study room don't peer in again.

I've completely abandoned LJ, but I always consider it a safe, secret space. My used-up and cobwebby corner. No one reads my shit anymore and that's why I'm here right now-- because I feel like spilling some mad shit.

I fucking hate everyone. I just want to say that.
I fucking hate everyone.
I hate seeing through people and I hate all the traits that make them human.
I hate the endless parade of days that go on and on without any fucking answer.

I want to go home right now, but my stupid fucking roommate is there with all his goddamn noise and annoying habits and self-absorbedness.

I want to go home home right now, but that is an $800 plane flight away, and even there, I hate the society that surrounds my family.

I have SO much to get done and not a shred of motivation to do it. I feel like if I could talk to someone it would help, but seeing as I hate everyone-- well.

My back, right tire is low and I need to put air in it but I don't have any quarters.
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In Austin, Texas [Jul. 30th, 2011|04:07 pm]
Not gonna lie. When I get on facebook and decide to waste my time looking at pictures of Nicaraguans I become indignant. I see these socially acceptable and socially prominent pairings-- such obvious choices of grooms and brides, such logical and practical sanctimonious unions between respectable last names and social positions-- and I get a little angry.

I get a little angry because I am certain that, now that everyone is of a marrying age, now that the family businesses have been passed on to the fertile offspring, I know that if I were in Nicaragua I would be excluded or placed on a sub-par tier of desirable mates. And I think to myself: fuck you! I wouldn't want to marry you, or you, or you ANYWAYS! You are all douches and stuck-up, boring, run-of-the-mill assholes without a single original bone in your body. You are a dime a dozen. You are a boring old chicken in a coop of chickens, completely typical and forgettable. You don't reject me, I reject YOU!

And still. Still I cringe and groan. I'll never escape them. For better or worse, they are a part of my history. They are a part of my culture and background. I'll never be free. I can run away and stay away from Nicaragua for as long as I like. I'll always be connected in one way or another. It will always make me anxious.
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In Los Angeles, California [Jul. 4th, 2011|04:08 am]
"And I thought, now THIS would be crossing a line, which I seem to be doing more and more these days. Because, you know what, the lines are...only in our heads. In actuality, there are no lines at all, which is really fucking terrifying if you think about it." - Brenda Chenowith
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In Los Angeles, California [Jul. 4th, 2011|03:48 am]
In Los Angeles, California, I realize that it's not going to happen.

All the ways in which I think my life will be's not going to happen. It's just impossible. There is no resolution. I'm not going to walk out of this. I am not going to build a plan and watch it come to fruition. I am not going to take baby steps towards a solution.

Because I don't know who I am. All I know is how to play games and bide my time.

I come into peoples lives and usurp a place of meaning. I accept a role that is unwittingly offered to me in goodwill. It's never mine to take, but I take it anyways.

I don't know why I do it. I really don't. I sit there, sipping on my drink, observing the going-ons in these peoples lives. I find the most instantaneous way to make it intimate, I find the weakest link and I make it my in. No one can stop me. I certainly won't stop myself.

I am the worst kind of person because I am so good at what I do. People take to me instantly. I exude some kind of warmth, some kind of ingratiating comfort.

One of these days I'm going to find myself alone, truly alone, with nothing but my memories of deceit. I'll deserve every minute of that deafening solitude. Maybe now it seems sexy and alluring and romantic and the kind of narrative that gets books sold and turned into movies. One day, however, when I'm older and my alluring warmth has died out, when no one is sticking around to figure me out anymore, I'll get what I deserve. Which is, ultimately, nothing. An empty, long, dark shadow of nothing.
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In Los Angeles, California [Jun. 20th, 2011|11:54 pm]
I'd say don't finish someone's cereal without at least telling them, don't criticize the way they prepare and eat their food, don't assume they just "don't get it" when they choose to do something differently.

Yeah, I'd pretty much say those things.
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(no subject) [Jun. 15th, 2011|11:46 pm]
My life is like a thread with so many knots in it. All I want is to straighten it out. All I want is to see it untangled.

My biggest fear is that I'll never have the strength to do it. My biggest fear is that my fear of pain will lead me, time and time again, to give up.

I'm not strong. I am weak and fearful. I will be 29 this year, 30 next year, 31 the next...I will never get there.

I inhale and hold my breath.
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In Los Angeles, California [Jun. 7th, 2011|10:14 pm]
I am alone with my demons. They make a knot in my stomach and a lump in my throat. I suppose I can't complain because I knew this feeling would come.
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In Los Angeles, California [Jun. 7th, 2011|02:29 am]
Secretly, I'm actually miserable.
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