Hah, mira tu…
Chequeando cosas en las tripas de mi blog, encontre varias entradas privadas protegidas con contraseñas y bajo diez mil llaves que escribi en momentos… especiales de mi vida a lo largo de este año, y pues como ya no siento ninguna necesidad de ocultarlas, aqui van.
Fecha: Mayo 23, 2011
Titulo original: Warning
Most people do not realize how easy it is to hurt me. I either must be doing a really good job at keeping my emotions at bay and appearing strong, or they just don’t care.
I am strong, but my strength lies in my ability to smile when I’m breaking inside. My strength is the power I possess to put my best foot forward after the turmoil. I am not weak cause I get hurt – I am sensitive and warm, and my spirit is brave. I will get better because I trust my ability to move on like I always have.
I am a particular kind of human who feels with much more intensity than most ordinary people, and this is not a handicap. I consider myself lucky that I am not dead on the inside, and my heart is filled with colors and sounds and beautiful things. If you hurt me, conscious or unconsciously, I will be fine, but in my heart, I’ll remember what you’ve done and a mark will be made.
Fecha: Marzo 6, 2011
Titulo: Attention Whore, I
Is it too much to ask for a little attention from a person you truly care about and, apparently, cares about you as well? Or am I just too needy and stuff? Cause it sounds like a normal thing anyone sensible would understand.
Some people have called me needy and intense. Okay, point taken. I know I’m not, under any circumstances, laid back or relaxed. But I know why I’m intense and I know I can control it. If things were different, if maybe I had something stable to fall back on, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn’t be intense.
Some others have told me I’m the kind of woman you don’t give too much attention to. Otherwise, I’d get bored, they say. Now, I don’t know how or why they came to that reasoning, but I can assure you, it is not true. Well, maybe partially true. Just a little bit.
Truth is, I’m insecure as it is. I don’t need indifference rubbed in my face to get the point that I suck. I’m aware of this fact every single day of my life. I need attention, cause neglect is my mother’s middle name, and I have issues. So, if you, any of you out there, is interested in making me happy, or at least care about me a little, get this: I need a teeny bit of attention.
I’m not a simple person and I understand that very clearly. I know where my shortcomings fall and where my strengths lie, and I know I’m not the most fucking awesome person you’ll ever meet. I am, however, pretty close to it, and that is something you should know. I am not conventional, and that is sweet. I am not ugly, I am somewhat smart and I have a lot of stuff in my brain. I think, sometimes. I am also [inappropriately] fun and interesting to get to know, and I can make you laugh. More importantly, I am NOT A WHORE and I have no venereal diseases. Let’s see if you can find that mix of coolness anywhere else. So, if you think that could spark your interest, then please, be aware that all of that comes with a price: love, understanding and tenderness. Attention. Show me you care, and I will be the greatest thing that will ever happen to you. Insecurity and all.
And that is fucking it.
Fecha: Febrero 6, 20011
Titulo: I’m Becoming Something Else
Heh, I know I just posted an angry rant and I posted another one just yesterday, but I feel it’s appropriate to analyze the feelings of hatred overtaking me right now. It’s going to be overkill, but after this I won’t come back for a while.
Sooooo much hate. I don’t know why.
No, I suppose I do. I’ve always been a hater. I’m just not happy. Things could be so perfect, yet they aren’t at all. That fills me with a kind of hate I can’t explain. It’s like I can’t fucking think about a single minor thing, cause already, I find something wrong with it and am considering ways of destroying it.
It’s not my fault. I don’t have the kind of emotional maturity it takes to live the way I am attempting to live right now. I’m not capable of letting go of what I care about the most, and I can’t be selfless. I want to have something that’s normal and not special. But, like someone told me, either I get used to it, or I get over it. I don’t think I’m ready for either.
I’m sick of hating and worrying and expecting. It’s not healthy and it’s eating me up inside.
Fecha: Enero 29, 2011
Titulo: Epic Fail
So I failed the exam to get my driver’s license. I failed hard. I failed like no one else failed today. Really, I was a real winner at the failing game. So now I’m pissed off.
I was doing ok and I think I can say I was actually happy these last few days. Bullshit.
I need to talk about this.
I think too much. I overanalyze words and search for meaning where there isn’t any. Sometimes there is, yes, but most of the time words mean what they mean and that’s it. There’s no reading between the lines. Rather, it depends on the person.
Right now I’m dealing with a person I haven’t figured out yet. I don’t know if I should read between the lines or just take their words as they are. Weird fucking person. I have evidence to say that this person wants me to read between the lines. It has happened lots of times. And then shit happens and it’s like it all blows up into a big fart of fail. Then I start wondering if all those previous times were all just in my head.
Seriously, whatever it is, you fucking say it. It’s really annoying to be fucking guessing what every single thing means or what its intention was. It really feels like a setback. Like, when communication is getting better and progress is being made towards a greater good, things crap out and it’s all fuzzy like at the beginning.
It’s also really annoying how life changes from being cool and looking bright for the future to being grim and horrible and hopeless. It’s all probably me thinking waaay too much about everything and being a miserable emo fuck, but I can’t help but think that something has been ruptured in the fragile equilibrium of things around me. Like, the thing about my driver’s license. I am pretty sure, had I not been fucking bummed today, I would have aced that shit. Instead, I nearly crashed the car and now I gotta retake the exam on Wednesday like a loser.
Times like these, all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep like there’s no today or tomorrow or people or bullshit. And then wake up and have everything running smoothly like it was before, or like it should be in a perfect world.
I’ll wait and see. Or talk things through, or over or dead. Talking fixes things, but I’m a big pussy when it comes to confrontation or dialog. Maybe I’ll finally get my driver’s license on Wednesday, and everything will be alright. Or maybe it’s, like, my hormones doing crazy shit or something.
Fuck driving and fuck everyone who pissed me off.
Sera que necesito decir algo mas? Definitivamente no la pase bien este año. La felicidad es algo tan efimero, y a la vez tan valioso, que un momento de ella puede llevarte a soportar meses de desdichas.