I'll come back to this

It's funny, this feeling of enjoyment or this feeling of pain or anything. I never get caught up in the moment because nothing lasts forever. And it's funny, I guess, because people attempt to extend the expiration date, or even worse, expect it to maintain. Why is that? They say insanity is the process of repetition, expecting a different outcome. But from experience, shouldn't we get it by now? I'm not sure what to think of this, this futile process. Does this define us as humans, faith in the slim chance of breakthroughs? Or is it our downfall? I don't know.

But I'll come back to this, again and again.

I get so stupid when I'm drunk.

Alcohol and guarine and taurine and caffeine and.. and.. and...

it hits me to the dome.

I contradict, I know. But you know, they don't leave any room for growth or mistakes or mistakes or anything. Then they wonder why I don't say shit. Then they beg and deplore my attitude of confidence, little do they know. So I come at them like missiles, blow by blow I tell 'em.  I'm just like you, I may not go through the same shit, the same divorce, the same abuse, the same dangerous love, the same insecurities, but it's all the same. Except I see the future, I have that peek. I acknowledge the narrow door that's slightly open, but most importantly, I acknowledge the importance of opening it and getting through it. The shit within me that's a constant battle is something good. They say, "We're just trying to understand you." Well then get that I was trying to maintain what society is supposed to make of me, but it's not what I really want at all. It's that steel door that you can't melt that hides the deformities, but the steel door is a deformity in itself. Your deformities is the qualities you try to conform yourself into. What I'm trying to get at is fuck those conformities, what really matters to me is what everyone else claims are the deformities. That's what I've been trying to make, what's real is what pains you, and ultimately that pains me. Why am I pained by what drives me? What drives me is what sets me apart from you and you and you and you.. Almost a year ago, better yet what I was four months ago, is something I can barely recognize. You asked me of my beliefs, and I told you the contrite. I'm sorry, that's not me. It's like my whole life I've been working for that degree, that invite that says, yes you made it Jess, this is it. But what I've been working for my whole life, that kind of acceptance, isn't what I'm looking for anymore.

I hear her say things like I need him to tell me that I'm what he needs. I hear him call me princess, you're my princess, I'll give you everything. Fuck that, I'm not that. Hearing those things make me cringe, but at the same time I'm so patient because I'm nonqualititatve. I'm alright with that and I recognize that I'm not on the same step that you're on, I'm okay with that!!! Nonqualititative, you say, what's that? Think of someone that was just paralyzed and had to use a wheelchair for the first time. They see a ramp and they gotta make themselves up the ramp, but they're not used to it so their strength only takes them so far that their weight brings them back a couple inches, a couple feet. Me, I'm not inching the ramp anymore, I'm on stairs. I was on crutches, but now I'm healing and I gotta make myself up step-by step. I'm on the second level or I'm on the first. I'm on the tenth or I regress back to the eighth. The top is a light that's barely visible, but it's enough to attract me to get to it.

As much as this sounds go goddamn miserable, damn Jess you're so pessimistic. But how? I'm trying to be better and you're taking it as Jess, you think too much. So what, just because I don't have to go through as much bullshit to see what's real, that doesn't make me qualified to feel the way I feel, to think the way I think? I'm tired, I'm exhausted in questioning why I feel the way I do. As the days progress, I've become more and more receptive to the way I've discovered my own epiphanies. And I know God, this is one of the deadliest sins, pride is one of the deadliest sins. But I come to your house every Sunday and tell you, "Don't worry about me, it's them you have to worry about." I'm trying to be an instrument, but who's oil do I use to tune me up, theirs, Yours, or mine?

Oil and Water

I’ve lived my whole life with the notion that I should repel from anything I don’t believe in, anything corrupt, anything superficial, and anything that connects itself with demoralization. At too young of an age, I realized the degrading power of sex and vowed never to accept advances with shallow intentions. Of course there are slip-ups, but I certainly have kept to it for the majority of my lifetime. I remember the first time that I came face-to-face with torments from girls with low self-esteem, and to watch them mature into the real bad bitches that held a knife to my face if I accidentally glanced at them for more than a split second. I never enjoyed the feeling of that frozen fear and doubting my own character, so I never try to tower over individuals to make them feel inferior. I remember countless, sleepless days attempting to ease the pain of my best friend, who swore to take her own life away due to the actions of some stupid, stupid boy. She taught me to never let a guy play me for a fool. I remember when my mom first told me that in that beautiful wedding portrait we have up in our house, “Those aren’t tears of joy.” From then on I knew that I would never settle, even if I had to walk to the ends of the earth and find nothing.

And find nothing.. The list of oppositions is still growing, and it made me understand that people idealize the wrong things. After a while I’ve come to realize how lonely it is to take a step back and acknowledge what’s really going on. Then I start to question whether it is a blessing or a curse to have been born with a little more willpower to live in this world, but follow a different map, a map that leads to roads barely touched. I live my life anxiously. I can’t say I’m waiting because I’m growing every day. But I live anxiously pacing through where and what I think is right, and as I keep walking, I see less and less people around me. I look back, and it’s tempting to regress and just follow. I keep what I believe in close to me, hoping that if I find my own way, I’ll see why I’m like this. Little do I know, the Big Guy up there doesn’t even know anymore than I do.

Wow, the shit I rant about before I drink. 

There are things in the way, but things happen that way

Classes started, and to no one's surprise, it sucks. I have this one class, Women's Changing Roles, at 8 in the morning. First of all, I hate 8 am classes. Secondly, I hate listening to feminists preaching at 8 in the morning. The other day, I was sitting in this class minding my own business while she goes on to ask the class, "Is anyone in charge of their own destiny?" My class is basically a holistic gradient of the world. There's the oober conservative, "Only God knows my destiny, every turn I take is because I listen to him." Then there's the extreme, "No one tells me what to do, I'm getting out of college, and then I'm gonna be CEO chyeahh." And, lastly, where I believe I fit in, the middle, "Certain circumstances may change my direction, but I know I can certainly flip some of the cards I'm dealt." Of course, my professor takes delight in hearing what we have to say because she can't wait to roll her eyes and say, "Well you're wrong." She took a different approach this time though. 

"You," she points at me, "do you ever want to get married?" 

Caught off guard, I swiftly answer, "Yes." 

She snaps back, "Why?"

I was definitely not in the mood, but I knew I had to make the answer as impressively educated as possible   because I was already 20 minutes late for both times I had the class.

"Well, I'm okay with being in a relationship forever and never getting married. I ultimately don't believe that marriage should change the dynamics of a relationship, unless financially I suppose. However, I do want to get married when or if I decide to have children. When I took Developmental Psych, I learned that, statistically, children who are raised in a normal household with nurturing parents who are happily married, develop to be mentally/physically good kids. Theoretically, I can say that my future child would be confused, being that the ordinary circumstances of family are 'married' and 'divorced' but his parents would be considered 'other.' I don't want my child to grow up questioning anything like that." (pats myself on the back, good answer Jess)

She gives me a satisfied look, "And you just answered my question to why nobody controls their destiny. You see, you relied on what's 'normal' to determine your future and the future of your child. This is how everyone one of you live your life." 

I understood her point, but I guess not really. It actually got me heated. Nowadays, I never get upset over anything, especially if it's caused by people. There is a plethora of people that will be letting me down my whole life, so I make that one less stress. What really gets me heated is when people falsify my beliefs. Basically, the only time I get "angry" is when I'm being defensive. 

It got me thinking though. How much control do I really have over my destiny? I hastily went over the many facets of my life like so... My childhood, I was beat up until I inherited the Bronx mentality which was being reckless and angry all the time, but thank God I decided to let go of that. I always thought family matters were in check until I grew up and realized how fucked up everything is, like big fat LIE status. School.. I was a sped, like every class was in the trailers until my parents literally whipped me into shape. And now I go to a college I really could care less about. My career choice was essentially the result of giving up a battle and heavy insecurities... etc etc. 

I stared at the virtual reality I listed in a cumbersome manner in amazement. Do I not have any control? Today I came up with two things I feel that I am certainly in control of. 

1) My thoughts and my dreams. I made this a two-for-one because they're both ideas that are left in my mind. Even my best friends call me the mystery girl because they're always wondering what's lingering in that dome of mine, but they already know I deal with it myself. My whole life things were taken from me.. my innocence beaten out, my brain trained for intelligence, my allegiance to my family's wishes, everything, the list can go on. That's why I base too many decisions on how bad I feel, how will if affect others, that's just how I was raised. I believe that once you let the world know about anything you care for, it's gonna do it's best to take it away from you. The righteous call it discipline, I call it unfair. I have been taken advantage of too many times and my thoughts misconstrued to bullshit. My dreams, unrealistic and laughable. But I do my best to place what truly matters to me in the right spots, so I can let it grow into something real beautiful. 

2) Finding the right people.. and person to share with. I hate writing about love or anything of the sort, I really do. Because love is not a thought process, it's uncontrollable, it's crazy. That's all I have to say about that. I control the handful of people I choose to share intimate thoughts with. By right people, I mean people I can have faith in, people that won't encroach on what I believe in, people that will truly take what I say into consideration. And the right person.. someone I can feel with and throw thoughts and expectations and philosophies back and forth, but knowing it won't be left unheard. He'll be someone I'm fascinated with and admire. We'll appreciate each other's qualities.. and most importantly, the feelings will be mutual. 

So to my professor, fuck you, because I still have a hold on my life.