A Rather Improper Journal

I feel it necessary to explain that every time a new paragraph starts with a double space, I come to this document with strong emotion to blurb my thoughts onto the page. The intention was to express myself in a format I could manage and to inevitably post this to Vocal. I was both curious to see my thoughts over a few months, how I can change, and if anyone would be interested in what may be mildly uncomfortable and relatively unfiltered thoughts.

It almost feels like I have to choose between degrading myself by spending time with a creature so self-involved that she can't even be bothered to be an intelligent creature or isolating myself. Even when it's something planned between us, if 001 doesn't ask her, then it seems she finds a way to invite herself. I recently found out that 001 hid that 002 had applied for a job that I requested. Granted, she was doing me a favor by getting me a referral. Though I can't help but think to myself, am I a person in her eyes, or am I a game piece? How can I trust after all of the times I have felt unheard, manipulated, and taken advantage of?

It's donned on me that there is a lack of trust in self, which is the root of my mistrust of people. How could I trust someone else if I cannot trust myself to make the right choice or take the best route? I can't choose to believe everything anyone says; proof is necessary.

I had recently had sex with a man who's wanted me since before I started to feel a lot of shame around my history. After going to the Munch and seeing how those people felt, seeing some of who they were that there's nothing to be ashamed about, and I can't believe I let myself forget that. I am sexy, and I'm confident.

I wouldn't want to change anything about becoming what I am; I wish it didn't have to be so messy. That being said, I wouldn't want anyone to have to pay like I have to be wise. Maybe I am good after all.

I often feel like I don't know how to properly articulate myself without some complex cipher mixed with metaphors and hiding any solid truths. That's what I've always liked about poetry. No one expects an answer. They look for one in your words. (Don't Look Twice-AS)

I don't know what will make me happy, and I'm still trying to identify what doesn't. It's a very tedious process of examining myself and trying actually to understand what is wrong and right to me. I ask myself often, "If I didn't have to do anything, what are the things I would still do?" or in other words, out of all the habits, obligations, and such that I do maintain, what interests me? I've felt a tad hollow lately. I've been seeing videos of people talking about how all they want is peace. It's made me think what peace is to me, and it honestly feels like a threat. Peace to me sounds like consistency, predictability, and yes, of course, to some extent, I would like that someday. However, I hate being predictable; I'm not too fond of consistency with a passion. It feels like a trap. I want to wander and talk with the people in this world, and I want to learn culture and practices beyond my own. I want more, and I have no idea where to start. Of course, a good beginning would be to correct my debt, then save enough to travel. In the meantime, maybe study a language and list all the things that spark curiosity inside. We're all incomplete pieces, yet I've always judged myself as though I've been done for ages. I'm still trying to learn. We all should be.

I miss the warmth of companionship. Something earlier today triggered a scent-based memory; for a moment, it was as though he was just in front of me.

There is so much pain in the world. Almost despite that, more than enough people find peace. When you stare into the dark, don't expect to find anything other than the dark. When you go looking for a light, give it time you'll find it.

001 is throwing her life to the wind again. Seeing this pattern and trying to course-correct is difficult without outright opposing her. Despite giving her multiple options as solutions for her current living situation, she chooses to take the most challenging path to prove a point to her father. If they were isolated events, I would assume she knows what she's doing, but between Lane, Tim, and this cat situation leading her to sleep in her car, I can't help but assume she is making self-destructive choices.

I know she's smart enough to find a solution that lands her in a home, but she's cutting off her nose to spite her face. I want to encourage her act of independence; I wish she would use her resources and not make such a childish choice. Living out of her car to maintain a cat? That is outlandish; regardless of her point of view, the pet's best life would be anywhere else besides a vehicle. She should be made to either put it up for adoption or get a more permanent living space.

Telling her this would be as pointless as screaming your opinion into a void. When she succeeds, all she will see is how wrong I was. If she would fail, then I would be correct, but for what? She rarely wants my advice in these situations; she would prefer that I sit and watch her burn the world for her entertainment.

Hopefully, but choosing not to get myself involved, I will be more successful at creating emotional stability. I expect everything else will fall into place from there. Stability will bring me that much closer to peace.

It feels as though the winds of change favor me this season.