Just at a different location
Just at a different location
thought up by Shay at 2:39 AM
I'm the type of person that will act like everything is fine. As if nothing that is going on affects me in any way. I'll laugh and joke about it when it's killing me inside. I dont know why I'm like that, I just am. I never vent on FB or go IN on twitter, I just *shrugs* act like I'm content with everything. But lately, I've felt the urge to vent. Because lately all I ever want to do is wrap my blanket tightly around me and sleep. I dont want to get dressed. i dont want to leave the house. I really dont want to socialize with anyone. Lately, I've been snappy. And lately I've felt myself changing into a person I don't want to be. Lately, I've been wanting to tell EVERYONE and I mean EVERYONE to "KISS MY ASS". I'm angry. I go to bed with an attitude and wake up with an attitude.
So what better way to vent than through blogger :)
Here goes ...
I miss Delaware.
I lived there for seven years and the whole time I lived out there I bitched and complained to my dad about how much I missed New York and the first opportunity I could get I was leaving and blah blah blah. Well, I live in New York now and AINT SHIT HERE FOR ME. I mean NOTHING. It's the same as if I were to visit. Nothing spectacular. No weather change, no nothing. I dont understand why I wanted to be here so much. I miss how quiet Delaware is. How I can go to my room and just relax. I can think. I dont hear my thoughts here unless everyone in my house is asleep (like now). In Delaware I wrote ALL THE TIME, here my words dont seem to form properly. I'm stuck -_-
I miss school.
I feel like a loser not being in school. Like my life is not worth shit. Maybe once I find a job ... Nah, I'll still miss school. Because I like learning and I like the fact that I was gonna be better than anyone in my family could imagine. I was a champion in every one's eyes. Now I'm just average. I've never been "average". I'm jealous of everyone whose complaining about professors and classes and roommates. There I said it, I'm jealous.
I miss my best friends.
*sigh* I dont even know why I stopped talking to them. I'm lying, yes I do. Besides the fact they made no effort to come see for my 19th birthday they are a reminder of the two things I mentioned previously (Delaware and school). I was embarrassed by the fact I didn't perform as well as I knew I could in college and I just felt like behind my back they were laughing at me. Like "Tashay thought she was so smart in high school, now look at her.". I miss them though. I could always count on the two of them for a good laugh.
I miss TASHAY.
The girl who did her own thing and shined without effort. The girl who flew under the radar because she didnt like being seen. The girl who didnt try to change who she was to best fit everyone else. The girl whose happiness came from writing and reading. The girl whose life was damn near perfect until everything started falling apart. I miss her.
And I'm determined to find her.
Hope lies in my eyes,
While my nostrils release guilt and innocence finds its way from in between my lips.
I cry invisible tears,
While a smile is projected through my voice
I try to cover up what's real, what I really feel
Out of fear that acceptance won't be in your heart.
Make up covering the bruises my lover gave me
The first time he hit me I swung back like a wild woman fighting for what rightfully belonged to me,
My dignity, self respect and his respect for me
But as the years went on I grew tired of fighting
He broke me down,
Forced me to stare at myself in the mirror and accept what he had done
Making up excuses saying, "he only hits me to teach me a lesson"
I just lay there, curled into a ball
Taking hit after hit, blow after blow
Joining the numerous amounts of battered women in America
Insecurity lies behind my playful manner
Sorrow occupies the same spot that produces laughter
We can dance around the subject,
As you try to avoid looking into my blackened eyes.
But if you ask me I wont lie.
He hits me.
My lover, LIFE, is brutal to me at times.
He knocks me down to build me up
But no one seems to understand that concept.
When I dont fight back, his punches become harder, his kicks become stronger
To fight for me.
I wish he would just love me,
But I understand the fighting is for the better.
To make me stronger both mentally and physically,
So I fight LIFE
And I'm still fighting him,
I won't stop until I'm satisfied with the outcome.
But I'll come out on top.
And eventually we'll shake hands
and part ways
I'll look at the battle bruises,
Consistent reminders of what I've been through
And thank him for every punch and every kick.
I fucking hate you.
Nah, I think I actually hate myself for stooping this low and playing this game that I knew I wouldn't win. But I sat at the table, cards in my hand; determined that losing was not on the agenda. I fooled myself into thinking once the cards was laid out, once I did my victory dance I would walk away with the pot. I guess I was wrong. Like I said before I'm a smart girl making foolish decisions. I should have cheated. But that's not like me. I'm a straight and narrow kind of girl. Always dotting my i's and crossing my t's. NO EXCEPTIONS. In any situation I'm placing my morals and character as my first priority. Never putting them to the side for anyone.
But there's an exception to every rule.
I never could grasp the idea of why girls would be satisfied with being someone's "secret". I looked at it as belitting to who you are as a woman and a low blow to your self esteem. It's like playing second. I always say I'm the oldest child, grandchild, etc. I don't take too well with being second. I want it all or nothing. Why settle with being behind closed doors when you can be satisfied with being another person's everything? Yeah, those were my thoughts. That was coming from someone on the outside looking in. You can never judge someone until you take that good ole walk in their shoes. Cliche I know, but it's the facts.
It's something about late night phone calls, pictures and text messages that have to be deleted right after they're sent, the smile that wants to creep up on your face when someone mentions his name that attracted me. It was fun. And I fooled myself into thinking I was going into this with absolutely no feelings. That was me living in denial. I am an emotional being. I knew my feelings were going to get involved. But I would never tell him that. Never admit that I wasn't satisfied with "creeping". Why? Because that would push me him away of course. #basicbitchtendencies again. If I cant have all of you I'll settle for a part of you? *shakes head* I was playing myself. Losing myself.
Playing my position, to keep his attention.
When I write it out, it's sad. This "secret" took my emotions up in a tornado and scattered them all over the place. I thought something was wrong with me. Starting questioning whether I wasn't good enough. Thought I wasn't doing enough. Everyday my mission was keeping his focus on me . . . There was the "I'm not pretty enough", "I'm not smart enough", "I'm talking too much", "I'm not supportive enough", "I'm not skinny enough"
Oh My God . . .
I was STUPID. And the funny thing is when you're caught up in the situation you think you're playing the game better than anyone has played it. Thinking "If I play my position long enough he'll come around and admit his true feelings for me". Uh huh. Denial.
It's truly sad to love someone who doesn't love you. Maybe he did love me, but not the way I loved him or deserved to be loved. Maybe he just lusted after me. I would have just been just another name in his number game.
What if I would have . . .
Now that I took a walk in these shoes how do I feel about girls being someone's secret? The same exact way I felt when I was on the outside looking in. It's belittling above all. Making you feel as though you will never add up, as if you are less of a person.
But since I'm being honest, I still cant find the strength to cut him off.
Bear with me guys .
It's funny how to our generation, isolating yourself from the world is deleting your Twitter and Facebook. I didn't delete my Twitter, but I did delete the app off my BlackBerry and had a friend change the password for me until further notice. And I gladly hit the deactivate button for Facebook. It wasn't to isolate myself. It was to refocus my attention. To remind myself of my priorities that I let slip away. I needed to figure out ME first. That's why I bought my blog back to life. I tried to remember the last time I was sane. The last time I did something that made me absolutely happy. The one thing I had to myself. And I thought about BlogSpot. This is the first blog post after my evolution. After I fell down, stayed down for a little while, and finally decided it was time to get back up again. I haven't changed. But if I did it is all for the better.
I'm not really a fan of pain, hurt or failure. But then again who is? Some people are able to cope with it. But I can't. I will do whatever is possible NOT to feel pain or hurt or feel as though I failed. When I was a little girl my grandparents bought me this nice pink bicycle. I was about four or five. My mother sent me downstairs and told me to learn how to ride. That's it. No instructions on how to do it, no push. Just learn how to ride. So with one of her friends in tow I dragged my bicycle down the six flights of stairs and walked down to a dead end to do just that, learn how to ride. But for some reason I could not get the hang of it, the whole balance thing threw me off, literally. But before I could fall and experience that hurt and pain that would have hit me from my little body hitting the dirty, concrete ground of the Bronx I cried for her friend to help me off. And I NEVER learned how to ride a bike. I'm no ashamed of it either. I do what I have to do to not fail. That's who I am. I recently experienced a little set back as far as school is concerned. And I felt like a failure. Even though people close to me will say I didnt fail, I think it's bullshit I failed. And I have only myself to blame. I didn't study hard enough, I didn't care enough. I got this sick enjoyment out of FINALLY being the "problem child". There was no more praise, but now I was being scolded. I liked it. So all summer when I should have been looking for a job, looking at how I was going to return to school at the end of the month. I was saying "I know, I know", but thinking "Told yall I wasn't perfect". In some weird way I was trying to prove to myself that I was human. I was not a robot. I was not a genius. I was human. I was entitled to a mistake. And I wanted to see how people would deal with it. But in the process of my little fun, it slipped my mind I was toying with my reality, my future.
Three months of fun and games. Three months of laughs and sinister grins. Three months of acting without thinking. Three months of being COMPLETELY carefree. I am officially back. A little stressed and confused about what I want to do as far as my education is concerned. But I'm a smart girl, despite my foolish decisions, and I know I'll figure it out.
Bear with me guys (: