Saturday, June 16, 2012

Real Thoughts

People think differently.  We are all unique.  Everyone looks different, feels different, and thinks differently.  Some people think in a straight line, an event happens and they make a conclusion.  Others think like a tree branch, when an event happens, it becomes the catalyst for several different thoughts, upon with we draw several different conclusions, and we have to trust.  We trust people for their honesty to tell us which is the right conclusion, we trust our own instincts to tell us which is the right deduction, or we trust that even if we do not know the answer, that we will make the right decision.  One single instant becomes the catalyst, the turning point, for all following occurrences.  Each moment defines us.  Often those who see things in many different lights, become very careful with what we say.  We learn early on that it is rare for people to think this way.  We find ourselves observing all other humans, and rationalizing their actions, not judging them right away because surely at some point, something occurred in their life that resulted in them making this particular choice.  We forgive almost everyone, for almost everything.  We talk about our feelings and our thoughts, only when we find a kindred spirit, or we feel it is necessary.  We are misunderstood, constantly.  We are lonely.  We are desperate for anyone who understands how we feel because we are so absolutely empathetic towards everyone we know.  We cry when you cry.  We smile when you smile.  We feel what you feel.  It becomes quite exhausting.  To always have at least a basic understanding of how others feel, but to never have others understand how we feel. 

We are unique.  We are empathetic.  We are thoughtful, compassionate, charismatic, understanding and strong.

We are alone with our thoughts.  We are alone.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012


We work hard, because it makes us feel proud.  Sometimes we do things to make others proud of us.  We try to work hard in school, so our parents will be proud, and do what society expects of us so that others will be proud of us.  We try to do the right thing, so that others will be proud of who we are.  Some people don't seem to do things to make people proud, but usually deep down, you find it is because they had someone in their life who was never satisfied with what they did.

So what happens if you do something, and you work hard at it, and someone is not proud of what you've done?  Do you become the type of person who never does anything expected of them? Or do you continue trying and trying to find new ways to make them proud until you become so broken?  You fall into numbness and just go through the motions, not knowing why anymore  You get excited by the slightest hope of pride in their eyes, and then fall apart when it's nothing more than their own pride in themselves.  You'd do anything, absolutely anything just to have them say the words...and you become so consumed you completely lose yourself.

Can we live without pride in ourselves, or pride from others?

I don't think we can.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

Two Birds, One Stone.

She is your addiction, your disease
But you'd die to please
Constrain yourself, restrain her self,
Masochism that makes you someone else.
Your heart burns for her,
you breathe in the smoke and steam,
You pump your veins; it enters your bloodstream
with her ignorance and distaste it seems.
Get high off of her anger,
smother her and she smiles,
getting higher off her
feminine wiles.
There is no good to come from this
yet it's all you know
Shoot up some more, pop the pills
embrace the pain that makes you ill,
but how much further can you go?
You're so caught up being vain,
with a drug that's doesn't numb your pain.
Time to trip, go to another world
where the people don't torture and torment
but they convey, converse, protect
each other
they smile and apologize
they do not tell each other lies
A world like that seems so far away
but one can dream it up, can't they?
But a place so foreign, seems to be fiction
breaks your trip, you feel the friction
Start convulsing, shudder, shake
The truth of the world, has become fake
the relief gives you no satisfaction,
it's too much to take
Overdose on reality, run and hide
But don't you see the brighter side?
Wake up from your coma, open your eyes
Her drugs have taken you to a world of lies,
the truth is the world isn't so twisted all the time
Give up your addiction, and watch your new world shine.

I don't want anyone to misinterpret this poem.  All I'll say is it is about two different friends of mine, each dealing with their own addictions.  

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do of tomorrow, after I wake up, I will be attempting to quit smoking, cold turkey, yet again. Last time I attempted, I was successful for about 3 months.  I came to the harsh realization a few weeks ago, that I have been smoking for about 5 years now, at about a pack a day for those 5 years.  That is just....too long.

See I have tried to quit smoking before.  Quite frankly, everytime I have decided to quit, my significant other at the time would get annoyed with me and end up buying me a pack of cigarettes.  You see, my withdrawal is pretty bad.  When I finally had a boyfriend who was willing to endure my withdrawal, I spent the weekend alternating between laying in bed miserable, or with my head over the toilet vomiting.  That weekend, sad to say, was easier to get through than the next three months.  Because I had someone with me the entire weekend, letting me snack on junk food and watch whatever movies I wanted, the annoyance of getting sick and feeling miserable, wasn't as bad.  The three months after, when he couldn't be there to watch my every move, where I had to leave my bed, and venture out to the places where I had come attached to smoking, that's where it got harder.

My mother smoked when she was younger.  She quit probably, actually around my age.  Me and my brother were pretty young, but I still remember knocking on the bedroom door and having her respond by saying she wasn't there.  I asked where mommy was, and she said "Australia".  Several years later, I found out that we had a blizzard and my mom had run out of cigarettes, and realized how ridiculously addicted she was.  So one day, my mom's best friend took her out for the day, and my dad cleaned the entire house, got rid of every pack of cigarettes, lighter, ashtray, as well as all of the smoke smell in the house. Then, he went out and rented movies, got her books, hard candy, snacks, etc, and prepared for her to be locked away to go through withdrawal.  She hasn't smoked in about 20 some years now.

Even while dating the guy who had helped me quit, I couldn't handle it.  I was still in college, and there was the simple pleasure of smoking a cigarette on your way to class, or after a long class, or standing outside of the building with your friends who are smokers as well, and talking.  I'm sure he knew that I hadn't truly quit smoking, he caught me on occasion, but I don't think he had any idea of how often I really smoked, and how many of his friends knew that I smoked.  It wasn't really a shocker to him when we broke up that I was smoking again,
so I'm sure he had some idea.  Then I started working in the restaurant, and having a smoke break felt right.  My mom even knew that as soon as I started working there I was going to pick right up with it.  But now, after almost two years of working there, I worked my last day (except for perhaps the occasional shift here or there if they need me).  So now, seemed like the most appropriate time to quit.  No more excuses.  I moved into a new place, so I don't have as many smoking rituals here.  I've started running.  I'm not around my smoking friends as often.  Why not, right?

Mind over matter.  Quitting smoking is like a break-up.  You have to get used to something completely different.  You're cutting something out of your life that played a constant role.  Something is missing.  Places you go, and rituals you did, you can't do anymore, because it doesn't feel the same.  You feel sick, all you want to do is eat and sleep and hide.  You're grumpy, irritable, and part of you wants to crumble and give up.  You need a support system to help you stay strong.  Those of you who have never smoked, will probably never understand this comparison, but it's how I feel, and it's how I have felt everytime I've tried to quit.

I have a support system.  I know my family will be very supportive of me.  My mom, my mom's boyfriend, my dad, brother, and sister-in-law have been trying to get me to quit since they found out I've started smoking in the first place.  Sure, my mother has been understanding, but that doesn't mean she doesn't nag me to quit.  Unfortunately for me, my boyfriend hasn't been very supportive.  I'm not saying that he doesn't want me to quit.  I'm sure he does.  It would save money, I would smell better, he wouldn't be affected by his asthma.  He has helped me get into the running.  But everytime I mention the fact that I'm going to quit, his response is usually, "Oh great, you're going to be so much fun to be around."  To be honest, I wish I could get a bit more support on his end considering he'll be the one I'm going to be around the most, and I don't want to give in this time.  But, I know deep down that the only person I can rely on to help myself quit, is myself.  So...tomorrow starts that adventure.

Wish me luck.