hi guys. sorry I haven't been around in a little while. it's partially being busy, being tired, and just needing a break. I love writing and blogging, but sometimes I need a second to step back. it's kind of easy, I think, to get caught up in what can become a "fakeness" in blogging-land. like everything is sweet and rosey and look how cute my thrifted outfit is! wheeeee! I mean, it's entertaining for a little while, but then sometimes I just want reality.
reality for me lately has been less than butterflies and unicorns. I want to write/talk about something... someone... but the human in me is holding me back. and I've been trying to write poems about the hurt that surrounds the situation, but I'm blocked. I have some good lines, but in general it's just coming out like crap. and it's really bothering me.
maybe I should just make a list of thoughts...? hmph. ok.
- when you told me you were a taurus rising, I wasn't surprised. in fact, it made total sense. and not because you are stubborn, but because you are self-absorbed.
- I translate "I'm busy" to "our friendship means nothing to me and I can't make time for you the way you made time for me for five years while I was bitching about my life and not giving a shit about yours."
- I'm pretty sure you're not too busy to talk to your other "friend".
- I spend way too much time trying to figure out where I went wrong - like for some reason you dumping me is my fault. I realized that I probably think about you way more than you think about me. because if you thought about me YOU WOULD PICK UP A PHONE!
- sometimes in my mind I try to make up excuses for you - like, you're not a selfish jerk, we just "grew apart". but even I'm not dumb enough to buy that.
- you lie about stupid stuff. why wouldn't you lie about important stuff too?
- I think you don't call me because you think I'm mad at you about something. you don't like conflict. but really, I think you don't want to face the truth. and I think you know what the truth is.
ok, now you see why I can't get that stuff into a poem, right? I'm probably crossing some lines and saying stuff I shouldn't. "you" used to read my blog. "you" might still. I don't know. but really, f' it. what do I have to lose? actions speak louder than words - and "you" obviously doesn't care!
'l'enfer, c'est les autres.' - translated: "hell is other people" - jean-paul sartre, from huis clos (no exit) - best.play.ever!