It's not going to stop 'til you wise up...

I have the worst time locking doors to my past, keeping them shut, bolting them up. Instead, I allow my past to just walk right into my present and future, giving it full range to come infect whatever I'm attempting to call normal and stable at the moment. A revolving door of crazy and drama is apparently what I have established for my life.

I know this, I see it in action, and I know without a doubt that I have the power to break that revolving door and board up that entry way, so why don't I? Do I feel like I need to just keep bringing on the pain, keep pouring the mass amounts of salt into old wounds? For what? To just become tougher and tougher? Is it easier for me to deal with my past by letting myself become dead and/or immune to the old wounds and painful thoughts? or Am I just too afraid to face my future alone without the opportunity to blame some scum from my past for my present fuck up?

I could wait around for the dust to still....

blip goes the bloggy's heartbeat.

It's been a long, long while since I rambled on here, so here it goes for a hot minute or so.

How is it possible that I feel younger and younger as I get older and older? How is it possible to be actually lost in my 30s while I felt guided in my 20s? I used to have a plan and I knew myself inside and out, but now I couldn't tell you what I desire, what drives me, what I even label as me, myself, or I anymore. So maybe this will help? It used to oh-so many years ago.

It is so bizarre to me how romantic relationships have changed for me, due to my jaded outlook (who wouldn't be extremely jaded after the bad love choices that I've made these past few years) on love and butterfly-causing attraction. It doesn't hit me full on, there's no head over heals game being played between my head and my heart anymore. Though, on rare occasions I can feel a butterfly seep out from the dark, cold place where I keep my heart, but reality usually sends that hope on its merry way.

So is this why people my age have kids? Is it so they can attempt to feel grown up and stop the downward spiral into irresponsible choices and selfish whims? Is it so they can attempt to feel a type of love that replaces and actually shatters the one that disappeared with bitter, jaded feelings caused by one-too-many failed relationships and broken promises?

I never thought tonight could ever be this close to me

I've been in a dreadful funk as of late. All Eeyore-like with my "why bother" attitude. Oh how I wish I'd snap out of it. Not even cleaning is cheering me up! Instead it's just making me realize I might be moving soon or I might NOT be moving soon, because apartment hunting is one major cause of my FUNK! Thus the vicious cycle continues...oh blerg.

The only highlight of my day was seeing one of my coworkers deep throat a banana, by accident. I was just strolling back to my desk after a potty break and happened to glance over into her cube. I couldn't really tell if that's just the way she chooses to eat a banana on a regular basis or if she had just jammed it in a bit too far because I startled her. Either way, it made my day.

from the edge of the deep green sea

Another year slipping by, and nothing to show for it but a different paycheck. I live each day the same as the last, quietly obeying its dull and lonely routine.

I've stopped dreaming.

I grasp at the little shreds of hope I still have that surround him, but they are slipping quickly out my fingers. I ask myself each night as I stare at that bed for 2, but containing only 1, "How did I end up here?" Maybe one night I'll be given the answer.

But i'm still here, And small, So small.. how could this struggle seem so big?

It's been well over a year since I wrote on this thing, so odd to think I once filled it with wordies on a daily basis. Now I struggle to write anything at all, and battle with my mind censoring my heart. I've started a very new, very different chapter in my life. The last chapter took about 7 years to complete, the one before that was a good 4 wonderful years. I wonder how long this new one shall play out?

But I'm at a good age now and at a good place. I feel calmer nowadays. I guess that really is something you grow into and takes a few decades to fully appreciate. I guess age also teaches you what you should value and hold dear in life, as well as the importance of trust and loyalty. I'm not afraid of trusting people any longer, nor do I pull my trust away from everyone when it is betrayed by just one. Everything is just part of the process, you learn from it, you move onwards and upwards.

To return or not to return...

I miss this little bloggy, my little space in the wild web, but am I really able to spew nonsense out once again for the entire world to see? (Well, not the entire world, just those poor random folks that stumble open this place by accident.) But really, am I ready for that again, to put my thoughts out there for others to see, to judge, to agree or disagree with? I look at my life now and realize that I've become a VERY private person in my old age. OR! *gasp* maybe I'm just really dull now and have nothing really to share? Dullness aside, when did this fear to open myself up begin? Is it just something that comes with age, in that the things I fret about now are far more serious and personal than the subjects my post were about years ago? Or is it the fear that someone whom I present one image of myself to will discover the person they know is all a ruse? Or is it just that I've realized no one wants to hear/read my drivel?

Well, for now little bloggy and random people, I shall go consider these questions while I watch QVC and spend my rent money on handbags and Bare Escentuals.

fin.

Poor little bloggy, I have let you die. I have allowed the cyberspace tumbleweeds to roll past and ginormous dust bunnies to collect in all your nooks and crannies.

However, I shall state just a few random things before my bloggy R.I.Ps:

I finally found a new job. Hurrah! Hurrah! So that’s right people, watch those pink porkers fly, listen to the fat lady hit the high notes, and try to find more sweaters for all those people in hell because the impossible became POSSIBLE.

I finally live on my very own in a beautiful tiny apartment with so much storage space that I am actually overwhelmed. Boxes line my walls and are strewn about making a cardboard maze from the bedroom to the front door, all because I just can’t decide on which closet gets what junk. It’s lovely =).

C’est la vie mes amis.