27: I will be happy

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Blogging every day is kinda hard. I’m at 27 now and while there is a lot to type about I don’t know if I really feel like it all the time.

This writing everyday, it’s really good exersize for my mind, but I guess it can be a little difficult. Sometimes stuff happens and you don’t feel like sharing or nothing acutally happens.

Stuff happens I guess. There’s nothing much I can do about it and won’t cry. I’m not exactly the crying type anyway. What’s worse is when things happen and you kind of saw them coming. You feel like some sort of idiot.

I don’t really know if that makes sense but I guess what I mean is something like this. For a person who thinks in worse case senarios, I can say that it henders you a lot when you want to do things or be happy. It’s like some kind of inner battle with yourself before things even happen. The thing that really beats down on you is when what you were expecting to happen actually happens. It loses its surprise or pain.

Part of me is happy for that. Part of me is glad that I morn for a loss before I lose it because everything is lost eventually. It feels less hurtful when it happens. You feel the pain but at least you can face it better. Pain makes you stronger. Thus that makes pain important and good, in a way.

I say that but I also find it a silly and a stupid way to look at things. Pain should be avoided right? Pain is awful and hurtful and can scar people for life. How can such a thing be good?

I should be happy. I really should. Things are going awful but I really should be happy because things are going great for me as well.

Stuff happens and things get in the way but I wont make excusses. I wont say I can’t. I will be happy. I’ll take fear sadness pain anger, I’ll take all of it on and beat it to the ground. I wont lose. I don’t like to lose even to feelings. I wont stop those feelings from happening. That’s impossible, but I will not be ruled by them. I will not cry untill I wish too.

I will be happy because I should be.

22: So We Complain

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I love to playfully complain sometimes. I think it can be pretty cute and it can get a laugh or make people feel better. I guess its silly but I enjoy it because it’s fun. I feel like complaining has it’s place in our life. Complaining is important. I would think that complaining is a show of weakness so I don’t really do it very often. I find that complaining is silly when there is little to be upset over. Many people are lucky and times could be worse and things could be harder. I don’t have the place to complain about my life when others have it much worse.

When something really happens to you though, I find that it gives you a place to be upset. You have a right to feel shorted. Everyone has a right to be upset in this kind of world where people are cheated all the time. I can’t be angry at people who have been wronged and wish to complain. I myself have been very lucky to not have to face truly terrible circumstances just yet in my life so I can’t say that I fully understand. I can say that I sympathize. I can attempt my best to feel what they feel and understand but I know that I can’t completely get it.

When something like that happens, where you are wronged or if something terrible happens to you, I can’t get mad at a person for being upset. I can’t say that to their face. It would be like disregarding their pain. I don’t want to be disrespectful to a person who has faced more than myself. I also can’t encourage complaints. I can’t accept that kind of weakness.

No matter how hard it gets you need to encourage yourself to go forward. Stop dwelling on the past face the present. If it still hurts be stronger. Don’t let that pain beat you! Stare it in the face and be cheerful. I can’t complain because it can get worse and I know that no matter what you are going through it can honestly get worse. It really can. There is no reason to complain. To complain is to be weak. I can’t stand it. I don’t want to accept that people can keep complaining. They really should stop at a certain point. But that is just me.

I would never forgive myself if I complained for things for so long. I would be disappointed in myself. I can’t say the same for others. My standards for my self is extremely high in this point. I don’t want to cry, I don’t want to complain, I don’t want to explain my feelings and I keep them to myself. I can’t say that I expect this from others.

I envy others who can complain sometimes. I wish I could but then I don’t at the same time. Stuff is hard but that doesn’t mean you should disregard something you don’t understand.

When your friends or loved ones complain, sometimes they just trust you and want you to be there for them.

Life here is awful. People are terrible and life really isn’t fair.

It is simple like that.

So we complain.

Related articles

• Every time you complain, a fairy dies. (girlcalledpete.wordpress.com)
• Accepting what is: how to achieve peaceful productivity (olgadegtyareva.com)
• Do not criticize, condemn, or complain. (joannewellington.wordpress.com)
• I Hate My Life (thecolorfulchristian.wordpress.com)
• Stop Complaining and Increase Happiness In Life (easyayurveda.com)
• We Complain to Much (lifesmaze.wordpress.com)
• 4 Ways to Fix Complainers (successful-blog.com)

17: Floating Along Searching Part 1

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I feel like I’m drifting away. I look around and I’m floating on some kind of board and for some reason I’m just drifting along. It feels like a sea of nothingness.

Why am I just drifting? Why cant I find the shore? Which direction should I go in now? I was never really good with directions anyway. The sun is hot and my shoulders are tanned from floating around for so long.

Every time I look up I have hope and I hope some more but I feel defeated every time I look and the shore isn’t there. Where are you shore? How can I get out of the water? I have motion sickness. I can’t swim very well. Why do I feel like I can’t escape this ocean? My legs are tired and my grip on the board is weakening. How do I make it to the shore?

Where is it? My lips are chapped and I feel like I havent spoken in a long while. I havent really spoken for so long that my mouth doesn’t seem to remember how to move anymore.

I want this routine to change. I’m tired of drifting here. I need a change soon. I can’t keep doing nothing. My days are blurring together. I want to be free of this. I want time to move again. Please move again time.

Maybe time is moving but it’s me that’s stuck again. But why? I thought I was over this. I thought that I was done with this problem. How silly. Am I hindered again by something so ridiculous?

Were Is that damn shore! I need to be able to move again. The edges of my vision are turning black again. My head is light and I can’t feel anymore. The ocean is making me feel numb.

I’m not strong right now I am only numb. Being strong is when I can take the feeling and face it but I’m not being strong. I don’t feel much right now. Did I lose it in this ocean?

Is this even an ocean? I thought I would be found by now. Am I not to be saved? I thought I would have been saved and everything would work out good. Why is that not happening?

Nothing happens like that. The world isn’t going to magically pop some answer out of thin air. I can’t depend on that. I have to depend on my self to get to the shore. I can’t rely on something else. I have to be strong. I have to face it and get there on my own.

Snap out of it! MOVE!

Oh! My foot moved. I’m moving. Can I do this?

Maybe if I keep moving, I’ll get somewhere. Look. I’m moving. I can’t cry though. I need to save the water. There is enough salt around me already.

Look at me, I’m moving.

Related articles

• Moving with the tide, rolling with the hills – Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela (travelpod.com)
• Saltwater (beautifuleverydaythings.wordpress.com)
• Back to the basics… (trishborgdorff.wordpress.com)

8: Locked Doors

Image by m thierry via Flickr

Locked doors. Are they not curious? I mean when you see something that’s locked are you not a little bit curious as to whats behind it?

When you’re little, girls especially, have these diaries with locks on them with cute little pictures and rainbow-colored paper. They were fun and interesting but hard to keep up with, at least it was for me. I was looking through one of mine the other day and well, I realize that they were pretty lame. It’s hard to realize how silly and unimportant the things in your life was back then. Even only a year ago, something you thought that was important feels pretty insignificant now.

We lock things because we find them important enough to hide. Maybe its to keep out of our own temptation or maybe the temptation of others, but what ever the reason there are locks out there.

Sometimes we want to hide things but other times people use locks to protect whats precious to them too. Feelings and thoughts that are for one person alone, those are important and priceless sometimes. Those feelings can be embarrassing and are private, no one wants to be revealed.

Things that are locked inside of us are harder to open. You can’t force open those inner locks. Keys for something like that are even harder to find and harder to use.

Secrets and hidden things are important for people. It gives them a sense of security with themself. Nobody want’s to be figured out so easily, nobody want’s to be vulnerable.

It’s hard to open up and trust. It’s hard to take off a lock and hope that a closed-door is enough for people. It’s hard to trust someone with a key and hope that they don’t misuse it. Trusting is difficult. It takes time to feel comfortable with it.

Maybe I have too many locks but I hope that’s understandable. It’s not a big deal is it? To want to protect myself? Sometimes I don’t pay attention and forget. It can be frightening to look up and realize someone easily got through.

You curse yourself for your silliness and then the person has to start all over again.

I’m sorry person.

Some people are guarded like me. Give them a chance. It takes time. When they pull away, they don’t really mean it to be harsh. They are just hiding because they are scared.

We are all really just scared.

7: Looking up from Nothing

Late night blogs are always the best and most dramatic and angsty. I don’t know what it is about the dark that reveals so much in your heart. Whatever it is, I tend to write really well when I can’t get an idea out of my head. Here it is that’s kept me up.

It’s a weird feeling. Like when you lie down for too long and when you get up, you’re vision goes black and you head turns light. You feel as if you weigh so much that you are about to fall over. That feeling of falling over without much of an ability of being able to stop it, that is similar to this feeling. My heart feels heavy and I feel like there is something inexplicably wrong with me. I didn’t realize this feeling for a while though.

I didn’t realize how much it hurt and what it meant. I didn’t know what it was. Now I do. It was me realizing that what I thought I had turn out to really be nothing. My head had processed it in the back of my mind and I, like an idiot, finally realized it. I was searching so hard for a label for what I thought I had.

I tried on many, donning them like outfits, articles of clothing or jewelry that could easily be removed, but I realized that they just covered up what it really was. It was makeup. It is a mask that I had created for myself yet again but this time instead of tricking others to hide what I wanted I tricked myself.

I tricked myself, what an awful feeling. I hid something from myself, it was shrouded in darkness and now it feels like that mask was ripped off like duck tape over a mouth. I can hear it screaming at me. I feel betrayed but it was my own fault for creating something I thought was real while in fact it was something so small.

That doesn’t make it insignificant or any less important but like a childish ignorant girl, I took that and blew it out of proportion in my mind. How could I be so cruel to myself? I hurt myself and I am dealing with it.

There is no label for what I had because it was Nothing. I thought it could be something but I distorted it so much. I can’t blame it because it was always Nothing. Absolutely and completely Nothing. Nothing is happening and Nothing happened. I misunderstood and kept running with it. What an idiot I am. How stupid was I that I actually . . . . . . .

This is the part where I sigh and cheer myself up. I need to become hopeful because that is all I have going for me. I see the world and am cynical but I must be hopeful. I can’t spiral out of control.

I am strong.

I realized it and will learn. I won’t stop hoping but I also won’t fall for my own allusions no matter how convincing they are.
For now the label for what I have is Nothing but it has potential. Maybe now isn’t the best time seeing what’s ahead, but it still is possible.

Anything is possible.

I won’t miss label things. I won’t be upset anymore because I understand what I have.

Nothing is actually a seed in my hand. It is nothing at the moment, it can’t give shade and it’s not helpful, it doesn’t give me fruit nor is particularly useful but it has potential. It can grow and it could become something amazing.

I have to believe and hope. Hope is the very best thing to have when you have Nothing.

When you have Nothing beneath you all you have to do is simply look up and there is still potential right above you.