And by that I mean THROWS A FIT.

I can’t seem to finish any single post lately. Not even when it’s mostly pictures. I can’t focus my attention on any one thing for longer than like 30 minutes. My brain … and here I literally trailed off for about 10 minutes to crack some jokes at work and then started a list of things I need to replenish. Uhm, hello, brain, stop running off on me. It’s impossible to catch up!

You know, sometimes it’s hard reading blogs where it’s like, “what’s your morning routine?” And the response is usually something like:

Once I finally get out of bed (it takes some convincing), I begin with 10-20 min of yoga to stretch and then wash my face with two pumps of …

First of all.

My morning is like MAD DASH to the finish line. Once that alarm goes off things are no longer funny, there are NO JOKES. There is no ~moment of pause~ or reflection, as romantic as that may sound. It’s all wishful thinking.

For me? The alarm goes off. I RUN, not walk to the shower. And then it’s like every minute is calculated until I have about 15 minutes left before I need to be out the door and then I try as quietly as possible to sneak down the stairs without making the dogs bark, while in loud CLICK-CLACKING heels, breathing frantically that I need to get into the kitchen or else I will not have a good breakfast or a good morning for that matter.

Then the blog post I was reading continues:

I tend to have green smoothies or oatmeal for breakfast. My classic green smoothie: 1 cup almond milk, a bunch of kale (or spinach or chard), 1/2 avocado, 1 banana, bit of spirulina or wheatgrass, good bunch of chia seeds. For oatmeal, I’ll add honey, chia seeds or whatever nuts I have on hand.

And fine, fine. I add very similar things to my smoothie as well. But what posts like these fail to discuss is HOW IMMEDIATELY HUNGRY you will be or how fucking PLAIN oatmeal tastes (even with the addition of fruit stuffz). Have you ever tried a week of oatmeal? You want to murder yourself and the world for the creation of such a plain tasting healthy supposedly ‘filling’ food.

So sure, let’s romanticize healthy living saying you lackadaisically roll out of bed, and partake in an indeterminate amount of time on yoga and then eat this super healthy breakfast like it’s the best food in the world. D:

Maybe I’m hardcore hating right now. HATING SO HARD.

Because for me to ~slowly, hesitatingly~ roll out of bed I’d have to start at THREE AM. Cries.

And no matter how hard I try, it’s not happening. Not even when my 4am alarm clock threatens me with being FAT FOREVER. I equally turn off the 4am alarm that says “Fat Forever” and the 3am “Good morning, sunshine and rainbows!” If I need sleep, I need sleep.

Trying to reconcile all the things I *need/should* do is next to impossible with the things I *want* to do. This, here, has been my epic struggle as of late. In too many aspects to mention.

I start off with the good intention of waking up bright-eyed, starry-eyed, and wide awake. The truth is I can barely open my eyes and find myself practically sprawled on the floor from lack of energy.

According to all things WELL AND GOOD, I should every morning OIL PULL (for 15 minutes ideally), drink a glass of lukewarm water with lemon, meditate for 20 minutes, maybe read the newspaper or listen to the news, and all GOOD people exercise before work. WUTDAFUX.

Motivation and intent are there. BUT WHERE IS MY FOLLOW THROUGH? If life were a game of basketball, I’d be standing right by the 3 point line with the basket clear in sight and forgetting to shoot.

And I get it. If I worked out in the morning I would just shower and get ready for work immediately after. But as it so happens, my social life is jam-packed. Very few days are without some sort of plans. Which then means: speed home, change into exercise clothes – and then here exercise. Let’s pause the routine for a minute into another part that fitness blogs fail to mention:

HOW HARD THE “EXERCISE” portion of your day really is.

It’s this casual, “Oh you know… I bust out a quick 5 mile run with a smile on my face.”


But fitness blogs don’t tell you that. :\

Okay so then I exercise right?

And then I … HAVE TO GET READY ALL OVER AGAIN. It’s like 4am but with the sun out. MAD DASH TO SHOWER (again), blow dry the hair, pick a fucking outfit…

And I feel like this MAD DASH to get ready twice a day is ultimately ~preventable~ but it requires I get up at 3am.

And then yannoe… Feeling all good that I sacrificed the tastiness of life via smoothies, oatmeal, or salad for lunch… I go and EAT BIG for dinner with friends/family/whomever I have plans with that evening. And then it all feels like this EPIC struggle that in the end is just so nullified by one wrong deed.

I was tempted to also start a rant about how I no longer use sulfates…. no preservatives… no high fructose corn syrup… no synthetic fragrances. It’s like BY THE DAY the list of things I have to be wary and insanely avoid increases.


I suppose if it’s starting to feel like a struggle… this sort of lifestyle is costing me too much energy. Maybe I’m overwhelmed.

There are so many things I want/need to do on any given day that I just … don’t have the time.

My friend does her free time/meditation during her lunch break. I don’t really get one of those. We’re working all the time. And I feel like if I could slip some productivity into my working hours, I wouldn’t feel so burdened by having to accomplish SO MUCH in the few hours I have available to me before/after work. I work so fast. Today, for example, I finished all my work by 8am. Usually it’s by 9am though. And then I have nothing to do until about 11 or 12. That’s THREE HOURS of dead time. I can’t exactly bust out a book and start reading. Or put on my headphones and start watching TV.

But the time I waste at work doing nothing… is increasing. And it increases the burden of having to do the ACTUAL things I need to get done into a much smaller time frame.

OK. I’m done. I’m done ranting. I’m going to go eat a chicken sandwich now. Not a burger, a chicken sandwich. Because that’s the healthier alternative right?

forfeit liberty

Shake off the chills, just don’t look into his eyes
(Keep your head down)
Think of all the things
They told you he did that were so wrong
This last ounce of love is what kept you so inspired.

You lost yourself along the way
Gave into temptation
Enslaved by a false list of values
You try so hard to keep to

I miss my old life. I said it then and I still think it now – my life was perfect. Oh someone take me back to April 10, 2012. I would do it all over again. I would just have to know then what I know now. Saddest inaudible sigh of all time.

From one year to the next I’ve grown in so many ways. I’ve evolved. Emotionally, physically, mentally. I have learned a great deal of things. I’m not sure I can even consider myself the same person. Sometimes stepping away can give you clarity. And sometimes experiencing things you don’t want to experience can change you, for the better.

S has taught me a lot about myself as well. I can’t help but to think that some of this positive change can be attributed to him. I know he hasn’t really actively been trying to teach me anything about positive change, but our interactions have made me so much stronger. And by stronger, I don’t mean stronger in personality; truly, I mean quite the opposite. S has taught me patience, learning to wait, learning to speak respectfully and in turn, and so much more. In other words, I’ve learned how to be submissive. My aggression and anger have considerably lessened. My capriciousness has lessened as well, I hope. Well… that’s still a work in progress. I’ve created a set of rules for myself (in a sense) and I find myself feeling quite liberated being under his care and under the care of rules/principles to live by. But generally I’m learning to be pleasing, pleasant. To me, this is one of the most valuable skills anyone can learn: to be pleasing. It’s politeness, really. And feeling pleasure from pleasing. I’m also learning to obey (working on obeying without question).

For example, now, when Mom tells me to do something, I just do it. There is no argument. There is no, “but why?” There is only obedience and feeling okay by completing something small, maybe insignificant, but that will bring the other person a lot of pleasure. Pleasure in my company, in my obedience, in my general agreeable nature.

This is definitely not something I had before. At all.

So I just feel I’m learning.

My present position somewhat uses this ability, too.  There’s nothing worse than an employee that says, “I can’t because I’m doing x, y, z.” Instead it’s far more pleasant to say, “Yes, I’ll do x, just quickly finishing y.” No one should feel the stress you’re feeling even if you’re doing five different things. One other manager always says, “I’m doing this already” when General Manager requests assistance. Me? There is no refusal. You can never refuse your boss. You just adjust accordingly. You need to be able to assist them when they need you otherwise they wouldn’t be asking for assistance! Being invaluable in this way, and being able to get things done is of utmost importance.

The same applied to my previous office job. But I didn’t have the same mindset. I felt like I was being treated poorly when instead I should have considered myself a valuable asset for even being capable of assisting. What seemed like a mindless task that the salesman could have done was actually just a small thing that I could help them not have to think about when they were doing all these other things. But instead I would get angry in this, “can’t you do it yourself?” kind of way. And why yes they probably could have, but if I can be of some value, I will be far more pleasing.

All of these things I have learned over the past few months. It’s taken me from aggressive to submissive. But submission requires strength to put the needs of others above your own in the sense that it will fulfill my needs to fulfill theirs. As in, PAYCHECK, if I fulfill the needs of others, which fulfills my life needs. It’s such a bizarre and new-found freedom to submit to someone else.

Now if only I can learn to command more respect. But that’s a whole other skill that I have yet to acquire. It requires learning how to phrase things so people feel useful, not used. Because not everyone is submissive. And not everyone can realize that just saying YES is a much more positive thing rather than making excuses or not taking the EFFORT to accommodate a simple request. Life would be so much simpler if people just respected one another.

But I feel that I’ve found some kind of zen or something with this new mindset. Because I love the benefits I receive as a result of my submission, I think it will suffice to keep me inspired to continue pursuing it.

Is this really my new personality or am I taking on something that’s really going to be very hard to keep to?

Moonie mentioned to me she wasn’t used to seeing me so submissive (I was with a guy). I think I’m very strong, personally. But when it comes to men… I prefer to relinquish that control I cling onto so dearly in my own life when I’m alone. In other words, I need control exercised over me. And I don’t necessarily have to be the one with that control, though I have for so long. I value Moonie’s opinion over most though. And despite the fact she doesn’t quite label her relationship she’s a total Domme. And her boyfriend is completely submissive. And it works. And it’s really quite perfect. And I love observing it. There’s complete mutual respect but she tells him her needs and he fulfills them, without question. It makes my heart pitter-patter. I want to be able to fulfill someone’s needs just like that.

But all the paper said when I was done is…

Restlessness is one of my signature traits. Maybe fickle. Maybe capricious. Furniture constantly gets switched around in my apartment, my hair color changes more often than the seasons, and my living location is now the source of my frustration. Don’t get me wrong – I love Long Beach. The relaxed beach vibe permeates the city but there’s also this great night life buzz. There is so much going on in Long Beach and I have not even explored a fraction of the city with all its local eats and hangs and entertainment. But increasingly I feel this distance from “the city” – the city of Los Angeles proper. Not that I would want to live anywhere downtown (that’s just scary), but closer to where I feel “everything” is located. Los Angeles is about 30 minutes away, maybe more with traffic. It is still just a simple drive away… but I feel so drawn to it. Even the thought of moving to the very classy city of Pasadena seems appealing.

These cities – Santa Monica, Pasadena, Los Angeles (La Brea area), they all have these special vibes, their own cultures, etc. Once I moved I would only miss or yearn for another city. I know that about myself.

My only constant is change.

The thought that things don’t meet my expectations is untrue. Long Beach more than lives up to my thoughts about it. But I feel so… restless, unhappy with the stability.

My life can always be described with the words:

The Greek word, eros, denotes want, lack. The desire for that which is missing. The lover wants what it does not have. It is by definition impossible for him to have what he wants. If… as soon as it is had… it is no longer wanted.

How many times have I quoted those lines on this blog? Many many many times. I always want and want and want. Not necessarily want MORE, I just WANT all the time. For the sake of wanting. I need these wants fulfilled though soon after it means nothing.

Rarely is something enough. Not because it does not satisfy me… but because the satisfaction is so temporary. My mind craves new experiences all the time. “Accomplishments are transient,” right?

accomplishments are transient
they pull me in unremittingly
just lasting this long, I feel relieved
let repetition save me

I always turn a real-life problem into this lyrical, obscure, vague mass.

Start Thinking.

I like this new WordPress theme because it has the option of going to random entries. Rereading past emotions is… bizarre. Everything that ever happened to me happened so long ago. I grew up, and along with that I stopped thinking. The difference between a 17 year old and a 22 year old?

When you’re 17 there’s nothing to do, just a lot to think about. When you’re 22 there’s nothing to think about, just a lot to do.

I hate that I have stopped thinking. But at the same time I literally have nothing to express anymore. My mother doesn’t abuse me anymore. I’m not as lost, conflicted, and in pain anymore. I’m not loving someone that does not love me anymore. In fact, it feels like I live in an emotionless pit of taking it a day at a time. WORK. SLEEP. WORK. SLEEP. It’s a never-ending repetition of that.

This has got to be the most boring entry ever. I have nothing going on, no dreams, no aspirations, no thoughts.