Heart-Strutter.org

1 am. I need to sleep. Work ALL day tomorrow. At both Lush and Sephora. 11am to 11:30pm. Honestly, I have no idea why I agreed to pick up the Lush shift. I almost picked up a shift tonight, after having worked for 7 days in a row. I was sick for about 3 weeks, from lack of rest. It took every ounce of strength to say no to today’s shift. I needed a day off. To relax, watch movies, meditate, etc. Impulsively, I will say yes to everything.

It’s too late to take a bubble bath. I get so much reading done when I take baths. That’s the only way I can ~focus~ instead of multi-tasking every which way with the 20+ tabs I have open, with far too many mental notes.

Leonardo Favio has been my jaaaam for over a week now. His music was from the 60s/70s, Argentinian singer. Just listen.

Contradicting statements:

• I wish people were still emotional enough to warrant carrying handkerchiefs with them.
• Emotions are weak.
• I feel like crying for everyone that’s ever been sad, for everyone that’s ever had it rough, for everyone that’s ever been lonely.
• I can’t cry.

No matter what, I don’t want to be emotionally vulnerable. Already I told Sebastian too much about how I feel.

Sometimes I don’t know if I suppress my emotions or if I just don’t have any. The former seems the likely culprit. For so long I have told myself that it is not okay to let anyone or anything affect me that I automatically try to suppress every emotion. And then when finally I allow myself to feel, I feel so much I can’t even breathe. Anger, love, sympathy, caring, hate. I feel them so intensely it hurts.

I’m finally over __. What’s funny is that CBD had to replace __ in order for me to be over the latter.

When someone asks me how I’m doing, I never go into details. And yet I get upset when people blab on and on about themselves and don’t let me speak, as if I would share anything even if they did ask. I always get upset no one gives enough of a fuck to ask for details. If you ask, I’ll answer. But, no one asks anything at all. I think that’s where I get my mentality that “no one cares.” It’s difficult enough for me to “open up” – I get so uncomfortable even just thinking about it. No one even knows. (I’ve made no progress.)

“You can’t even tell me what’s under the stupid tarp.”

I can’t.

My mouth seals shut and I get so hesitant.

People always assume I’m okay, that I’m strong, that I’m ~so~ prepared and fearless, that nothing can bring me down. Look closer, please. It’s all a facade. I’ve never been so weak, so scared.

I start to say what I mean, what I feel, and then I can’t. No one cares.

Why am I such a contradictory hypocrite?

Nobody’s here with me.

[youtube width="225" height="155"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDgBFpzDsDw[/youtube] 1 am. I need to sleep. Work ALL day tomorrow. At both Lush and Sephora. 11am to 11:30pm. Honestly, I have no idea why I agreed to pick up the Lush shift. I almost picked up a shift tonight, after having worked for 7 days in a row. I was sick for about 3 weeks, from lack of rest. It took every ounce of strength to say no to today's shift. I needed a day off. To relax, watch movies, meditate, etc. Impulsively, I will say yes to everything. It's too late to take a bubble bath. I get so much reading done when I take baths. That's the only way I can ~focus~ instead of multi-tasking every which way with the 20+ tabs I have open, with far too many mental notes. Leonardo Favio has been my jaaaam for over a week now. His music was from the 60s/70s, Argentinian singer. Just listen. Contradicting statements: I wish people were still emotional enough to warrant carrying handkerchiefs with them. Emotions are weak. I feel like crying for everyone that's ever been sad, for everyone that's ever had it rough, for everyone that's ever been lonely. I can't cry. No matter what, I don't want to be emotionally vulnerable. Already I told Sebastian too much about how I feel. Sometimes I don't know if I suppress my emotions or if I just don't have any. The former seems the likely culprit. For so long I have told myself that it is not okay to let anyone or anything affect me that I automatically try to suppress every emotion. And then when finally I allow myself to feel, I feel so much I can't even breathe. Anger, love, sympathy, caring, hate. I feel them so intensely it hurts. I'm finally over __. What's funny is that CBD had to replace __ in order for me to be over the latter. When someone asks me how I'm doing, I never go into details. And yet I get upset when people blab on and on about themselves and don't let me speak, as if I would share anything even if they did ask. I always get upset no one gives enough of a fuck to ask for details. If you ask, I'll answer. But, no one asks anything at all. I think that's where I get my mentality that "no one cares." It's difficult enough for me to "open up" - I get so uncomfortable even just thinking about it. No one even knows. (I've made no progress.) "You can't even tell me what's under the stupid tarp." I can't. My mouth seals shut and I get so hesitant. People always assume I'm okay, that I'm strong, that I'm ~so~ prepared and fearless, that nothing can bring me down. Look closer, please. It's all a facade. I've never been so weak, so scared. I start to say what I mean, what I feel, and then I can't. No one cares. Why am I such a contradictory hypocrite? Nobody's here with me.

“You always come home from work in such a happy mood.”

Damn right. I love my jobs!

And I love my family so damn much. Every time we send emails to one another I can feel how close we all are, and how much we really appreciate each other. Don’t get me wrong, we have our share of tough times, but for some reason that doesn’t even matter in the long run.

And o hai to anonymous commenter from my previous entry: This is a blog all about me. Bad as my writing may be, undoubtedly by definition my blog must be self-indulgent. This is a personal weblog, durrr. (: K, bai.

Rain changes things. Some suddenly want to snuggle. Some want to dance in the rain. Some now want to stay indoors. Some become lonely. Some feel like walking past that special spot where you first met. Some feel like crying.

My bedroom is very warm right now. We keep the heater on, the windows closed, the candles lit, the incense burning, the blankets ready.

Sin ti mi corazón
Es un abismo tan profundo como el mar
Y un segundo es una eternidad
Como para no estar junto a ti

Music in foreign languages is so beautiful.

"You always come home from work in such a happy mood." Damn right. I love my jobs! And I love my family so damn much. Every time we send emails to one another I can feel how close we all are, and how much we really appreciate each other. Don't get me wrong, we have our share of tough times, but for some reason that doesn't even matter in the long run. And o hai to anonymous commenter from my previous entry: This is a blog all about me. Bad as my writing may be, undoubtedly by definition my blog must be self-indulgent. This is a personal weblog, durrr. (: K, bai. Rain changes things. Some suddenly want to snuggle. Some want to dance in the rain. Some now want to stay indoors. Some become lonely. Some feel like walking past that special spot where you first met. Some feel like crying. My bedroom is very warm right now. We keep the heater on, the windows closed, the candles lit, the incense burning, the blankets ready. Sin ti mi corazón Es un abismo tan profundo como el mar Y un segundo es una eternidad Como para no estar junto a ti Music in foreign languages is so beautiful.

The cut runs deeper than the eyes can see. No matter how hard I try to express it through my eyes, my face, my words – there is only silence and stillness. From some tragedies we never can recover. Resignation is the ultimate hurt when no other options lie before you. Resigned to resign. It feels like ______. Uncomfortable silence and wordlessness. Should someone reach out to me, a spark of electricity will ignite and set you on fire. Bordering on dangerous land. Just the point before it burns.

This isn’t depression; this is sadness, an altogether much more difficult emotion to explain. There are no premade lists on what ‘sadness’ should feel like and so I cannot express the things that I am longing to say, the feelings swirling within me.

Rarely in my recent past have I ever taken to putting myself down. No one should ever do that. But, I still have to question, what are my shortcomings? These must inevitably be the source of my indefinite bad ‘luck’ (to put it vaguely).

And so I commence a list. The last time I made a list like this I had to try hard to separate myself from the meaning. And I read this list to someone. They had absolutely nothing to say in regards to it afterward. Truth and honesty are irrefutable.

• I am not as tall as most women. Exuding class and appeal are much more difficult when legs don’t go on for days.
• Emotional starvation comes off in my voice when I’m really trying to accomplish something. No one appreciates this.
• I am not as thin as I should be, and thus don’t live up to my potential prettiness.
• Rarely do I divulge emotions. Not many people know me as a result.
• I pretend so much. Pretend to be happy, pretend to be okay, pretend to be strong, pretend to know what I want, pretend to know what I’m doing. There’s so much pretending, if you really knew how I felt you’d crumble inside with me.

Forget everything you saw. “For everybody else’s sake.”

The cut runs deeper than the eyes can see. No matter how hard I try to express it through my eyes, my face, my words - there is only silence and stillness. From some tragedies we never can recover. Resignation is the ultimate hurt when no other options lie before you. Resigned to resign. It feels like ______. Uncomfortable silence and wordlessness. Should someone reach out to me, a spark of electricity will ignite and set you on fire. Bordering on dangerous land. Just the point before it burns. This isn't depression; this is sadness, an altogether much more difficult emotion to explain. There are no premade lists on what 'sadness' should feel like and so I cannot express the things that I am longing to say, the feelings swirling within me. Rarely in my recent past have I ever taken to putting myself down. No one should ever do that. But, I still have to question, what are my shortcomings? These must inevitably be the source of my indefinite bad 'luck' (to put it vaguely). And so I commence a list. The last time I made a list like this I had to try hard to separate myself from the meaning. And I read this list to someone. They had absolutely nothing to say in regards to it afterward. Truth and honesty are irrefutable. I am not as tall as most women. Exuding class and appeal are much more difficult when legs don't go on for days. Emotional starvation comes off in my voice when I'm really trying to accomplish something. No one appreciates this. I am not as thin as I should be, and thus don't live up to my potential prettiness. Rarely do I divulge emotions. Not many people know me as a result. I pretend so much. Pretend to be happy, pretend to be okay, pretend to be strong, pretend to know what I want, pretend to know what I'm doing. There's so much pretending, if you really knew how I felt you'd crumble inside with me. Forget everything you saw. "For everybody else's sake."

I’m in amazing spirits this morning!

There are butterflies in my stomach, though. Whether it’s from not eating breakfast yet or excitement about what today’s going to bring, I don’t know. What I do hate, though, is that my mood is so variable. One small thing can make me sad. I’m riding a rollercoaster.

But I’m sitting on edge. I am waiting for something. And I’ve never been patient. Waiting isn’t my type of game.

(Publishing this several days late.)

I'm in amazing spirits this morning! There are butterflies in my stomach, though. Whether it's from not eating breakfast yet or excitement about what today's going to bring, I don't know. What I do hate, though, is that my mood is so variable. One small thing can make me sad. I'm riding a rollercoaster. But I'm sitting on edge. I am waiting for something. And I've never been patient. Waiting isn't my type of game. (Publishing this several days late.)