I posted an Instagram a couple of days ago with the theme 'people are not their pictures; love yourself' - yet I can't still seem to take that advice myself. I can see how this appears like I'm casting my net out into the ocean for compliments, and tbh, a couple of your kind words in response to that photo have really boosted my superficially-driven spirits that tiny bit... but I of all people know they aren't fix-it's for the problem at large. I've got to figure that little conundrum out myself, and despite being logical enough to see where my issue originates, I by no means have the willpower to overcome it.
I oftentimes get called out for preaching "happiness" - for example - calling out people who criticise others by arguing: "what if it makes her happy? let her eat the fucking donut!" But do I take my own advice? Hardly. I wouldn't say being a bigger size than typically aesthetic girls makes me feel lesser than anyone 80% of the time, but there still is that 20% that feels awful. I wouldn't say I'm a hyper-jealous, or paranoid person, either. Yet then, there's moments like right now where I feel like someone out there could probably just do... things...everything... better than me.
Of course there are 100% people out there that can do things better than me. I'm not deluded, I am happy to subscribe to my fairly median place in the world. But it's that below-median feeling I can't shake. That feeling of inadequacy that relentlessly courses through an anxious mind; the persistent desire to shed your own skin gets tiring.
Self-love chants are being mentally written as I type.
Just had to get this out there. I'm a hypocrite, but I'm working on it.
xxxx
M.
Tuesday, 22 December 2015
Wednesday, 2 December 2015
Acquaintances
I have close to 1.8k friends on Facebook - yet, I don't know half of them anymore. In all honesty, I was going to post a status saying "If you don't care about this status/me, please unfriend me for both our sakes" - then realised that would look sickeningly attention-whorey and just plain, well... weird. Seriously though, I'm not sure what to do with that platform anymore (although that's besides the point of this post). I actually came on here tonight to write about change, and I guess I brought up my friends just then because my 'timeline' and 'friends list' on Facebook have recently had a lot to do with my reflections upon it.
I was reading this article yesterday on anxiety disorders and the diminished capacity for sufferers of anxiety to react positively to change. Immediately at first, I was like: 'bullshit, I have always been okay at dealing with with change'... yet then it all suddenly fit together. I got little flashes of this blog, and an actual - almost embarrassing - admittance to myself that in the depths of my downs I am hopeless at coping with change. In fact, I avoided it at all costs at one point in my life. I let my fear of change override my basic preservation of my own dignity. On more than a handful of occasions, I let my fear of change make me succumb into a smaller, less courageous version of myself.
I am never going to be that person who wishes to go back in time and somehow make every bad situation okay. That's not what I want at all - but it is definitely interesting to have a retrospective view of the 'mistakes' you think you made. It's insane to think that i can actually 100% appreciate feeling like an absolute piece of crap 5 years ago if it means that I can feel the way I feel right now. Some days I wake up and I legitimately convince myself that somewhere down the line I woke up a different person, because the way I look at the world feels totally different different. Yet, I know that's not the case. Change doesn't truly cast its impact in revolutions and bounds - it mines away at your life in little increments within every single moment. In that way, I guess, it's super-duper unavoidable - and although that's scary, it's also kind of liberating in the sense that it allows you to accept this: you cannot run away from change, it's happening constantly, and no matter how hard you try, it's going to affect you eventually.
I've felt the pain of letting change run me down; finding it hard to even barely keep up. I know what it's like to look around and have no fucking clue how things got to be a certain way. I still struggle with this run, but I know it's possible.
So, here's my "i'm-having-a-good-week piece of advice" for the future-me who's struggling to put change into any kind of positive context -
Just run with it. Run ahead of it. Steer its path into a direction that makes you feel an internal drive to keep ahead.
Don't freak out.
One day in the future, you'll probably 100% appreciate feeling like an absolute piece of crap right this very moment. Sounds like a silly cliche, but you've experienced it, so you know it's true.
I was reading this article yesterday on anxiety disorders and the diminished capacity for sufferers of anxiety to react positively to change. Immediately at first, I was like: 'bullshit, I have always been okay at dealing with with change'... yet then it all suddenly fit together. I got little flashes of this blog, and an actual - almost embarrassing - admittance to myself that in the depths of my downs I am hopeless at coping with change. In fact, I avoided it at all costs at one point in my life. I let my fear of change override my basic preservation of my own dignity. On more than a handful of occasions, I let my fear of change make me succumb into a smaller, less courageous version of myself.
I am never going to be that person who wishes to go back in time and somehow make every bad situation okay. That's not what I want at all - but it is definitely interesting to have a retrospective view of the 'mistakes' you think you made. It's insane to think that i can actually 100% appreciate feeling like an absolute piece of crap 5 years ago if it means that I can feel the way I feel right now. Some days I wake up and I legitimately convince myself that somewhere down the line I woke up a different person, because the way I look at the world feels totally different different. Yet, I know that's not the case. Change doesn't truly cast its impact in revolutions and bounds - it mines away at your life in little increments within every single moment. In that way, I guess, it's super-duper unavoidable - and although that's scary, it's also kind of liberating in the sense that it allows you to accept this: you cannot run away from change, it's happening constantly, and no matter how hard you try, it's going to affect you eventually.
I've felt the pain of letting change run me down; finding it hard to even barely keep up. I know what it's like to look around and have no fucking clue how things got to be a certain way. I still struggle with this run, but I know it's possible.
So, here's my "i'm-having-a-good-week piece of advice" for the future-me who's struggling to put change into any kind of positive context -
Just run with it. Run ahead of it. Steer its path into a direction that makes you feel an internal drive to keep ahead.
Don't freak out.
One day in the future, you'll probably 100% appreciate feeling like an absolute piece of crap right this very moment. Sounds like a silly cliche, but you've experienced it, so you know it's true.
Monday, 23 November 2015
I think I'll remember this for a really long time
Of
course I’m here when it’s 2AM. I’ve come to terms with a few things in the last
few hours, and it’s kind of funny how random the timing is for these things to happen.
I’ve finally done it. I’ve come to the realisation that I can actually control
my thoughts.
I
feel like a stupid person writing that down here, and look, it’s pretty fucking
sad that it’s taken me 20 years to figure it out – but I’m kinda damn proud I
did it at all. I’ve always had some idea of the ability for people to do it… I
guess wouldn’t really be a functioning human if I didn’t, haha. I just never believed I had the capacity within me. I wrote on here about 4 month’s ago about
searching the world for this magical human who would teach me how to open the
door to ‘get out of my brain’, yet what I discounted was the fact that I’ve
always had to figure it out on my own. How goddamn cliché is that, I’m in my 20s
realising that I can’t rely on others to hold me together.
I
can calm myself down.
I
can tell my beating heart that everything’s going to be okay.
I
can reassure myself of love.
I
can.
I
really fucking can.
I’m
just really happy I know that now.
Sunday, 1 November 2015
Tick, tick, tick
Hey,
I’m back. I’m back because I’m feeling really contented – and it’s truly dawned
on me why. I’ve figured out some teeny part to the algorithm of my own joy, and
I want to immortalise the epiphany by describing it here. Right now, I’m lying
in my childhood home waiting for my dad to finish whipping up my absolute fav
home-cooked meal; procrastinating finishing off my second-last assignment for
my first degree. Not a bad situation at all. Dad is cooking up a storm because
he’s super proud. Tomorrow I get to go on a hospital tour with my dream
University for my dream course in my hometown. In the hospital where I would
sometimes visit my grandma, sit and watch doctors, whispering, “I want to be
them one day, Lola”.
WHOA.
What the fuck. I’m 20 years old and I can honestly say (it still baffles me): I am on the brink of living
out my childhood dreams. Hell, I could almost say I already have started. Why?
I’m about to let you know.
My
dreams aren’t world-changing, or anything. They could be bigger, I’m sure of it
– but I’ve always been a relatively simple girl. I wanted my adulthood to
consist of 3 main things: stability, fulfilment, and passion. I consistently lust
after grand adventures and idealistic impossibilities; but I know deep down I’m
satisfied with the little things.
It
would be absofuckinglutely phenomenal to travel the world. I would work my ass
off for the chance to work for MSF. I want all of these things – but I’m at the
stage of my life where I don’t need them. I am terribly, sincerely happy. I
feel like my brain is finally tired of needing more, more, more. All I want is
to work hard and love what I do. And I’m at this gloriously – almost worryingly
surreal – stage of believing that little goal is in my grasp. It’s totally
within reach. I can feel it.
The
main part of my epiphany was this: I realised that time could fix and heal
anything. I realised time could make amends; it had the potential to create so
many unbelievably great things. It gave me space to re-evaluate my dreams. It
gave me space to re-evaluate my heart. And in that space, I have learnt so
frieking much.
The
last 3 years – my “accidental” swerve off my medical-end-goal path have been
indispensable. I’ve learnt more than I could have ever imagined was possible
for me (because honestly, I’m pretty one track minded – and I’m not proud of
it). I’m not saying I’m some kind of expert; or that I even have any qualified
knowledge of life at all – but one thing I’ve become an expert in is myself.
I’m so glad I got time to get to know myself.
Time.
It’s such an interestingly complicated,
talk-yourself-into-philosophical-circles kind of concept. I love it. I love
where it’s now taking me. I love time because it’s so malleable; so meaningful
– so independent, yet still somehow so conveniently under our control. It’s a
paradoxical thing, and I don’t really understand it – but I appreciate it. I
appreciate that time is really all we have. Life is time; work is time; love is
time.
Time
is the most valuable thing I have. It’s time spent with people that make you
grin from ear to ear like your heart is on fire with ecstasy. Time feeling
loved like no one in the world has ever been loved. Time to rebuild hopeless
romanticism, idealism and solidity within a somewhat weakened soul.
Time
to feel extremely excited for what’s in store next.
I’m
contented because I have had this epiphany – this epiphany of how my life is
going to be great. It’s how I’m going to manage my fears and anxieties – and
although it won’t ever be a perfect journey, I know that I’ve always got
something on my side.
You and I, we’ve got time.
P.S. I can’t wait to spend
the rest of mine with you, M.
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
I've got to tell you what a state I'm in
It's been six years since I started writing on this page - yet weirdly, I feel exactly the same as when I started. It's like the way your parents respond to you, when you ask "what's it like being a grown up?" - the slightly nostalgic, bemused laugh your mum does what she says "you never really grow up, darling. Trust me, you never do." That's what's ringing in my mind right now.
I do a lot of things that make me feel invincible. I am in control most of the time, I think. I have control over my thoughts and actions - to some extent. I eat what I want. I say what I want. I dance the way I want to. Yet, the most frustrating thing I think I'm realising again today (for the billionth time) is that my no means at all do I have control over the way I feel. I've been listening to solemn acoustic songs for the last maybe four hours now and I can definitely confirm this fact as true.
Mum was right. You don't grow up; your heart doesn't at least. It leaps and bounds like a madman - just like when you were a kid jumping two monkey-bars at a time, fearless of the fall. But when you're a kid, it's likely you fell from the monkey bars at least once. Did that stop you though? I know it didn't stop me. I wanted to fly - and boy, did I fly for some time.
So, when my heart leapt from that last monkey bar and fell last time... I was surprised at how much pain I was in. My unrelenting fearlessness suddenly dissipated. I thought - nup, that's it. I'm not getting back on those fucking monkey bars unless someone carries me up there. For a while I sat, patiently, fascinated by my wound healing; watching the other kids have their fun. I thought - hey, I'm safe here. No one can touch me.
I'm invincible because I can't fall from down here.
But then that moment happens. Every single time you think you're happily safe, this indescribable moment happens. Someone comes along and dares you to play; they convince you to climb the ladder back up to that first rung.
It's scary as hell but you do it anyway.
You do it because you all of a sudden can't control the feeling of wanting to.
Then you find yourself standing there, arms reaching out, eyes closed, hoping this time that they don't let you fall.
I do a lot of things that make me feel invincible. I am in control most of the time, I think. I have control over my thoughts and actions - to some extent. I eat what I want. I say what I want. I dance the way I want to. Yet, the most frustrating thing I think I'm realising again today (for the billionth time) is that my no means at all do I have control over the way I feel. I've been listening to solemn acoustic songs for the last maybe four hours now and I can definitely confirm this fact as true.
Mum was right. You don't grow up; your heart doesn't at least. It leaps and bounds like a madman - just like when you were a kid jumping two monkey-bars at a time, fearless of the fall. But when you're a kid, it's likely you fell from the monkey bars at least once. Did that stop you though? I know it didn't stop me. I wanted to fly - and boy, did I fly for some time.
So, when my heart leapt from that last monkey bar and fell last time... I was surprised at how much pain I was in. My unrelenting fearlessness suddenly dissipated. I thought - nup, that's it. I'm not getting back on those fucking monkey bars unless someone carries me up there. For a while I sat, patiently, fascinated by my wound healing; watching the other kids have their fun. I thought - hey, I'm safe here. No one can touch me.
I'm invincible because I can't fall from down here.
But then that moment happens. Every single time you think you're happily safe, this indescribable moment happens. Someone comes along and dares you to play; they convince you to climb the ladder back up to that first rung.
It's scary as hell but you do it anyway.
You do it because you all of a sudden can't control the feeling of wanting to.
Then you find yourself standing there, arms reaching out, eyes closed, hoping this time that they don't let you fall.
Monday, 8 June 2015
Restless smiling sweetheart
That was a douchey blog title, but I'm jamming to the Kooks. Bear with me.
I need to write. Well actually, I need to have a bit more of a cathartic scream into my echoey bathroom tiles - but I'll give my neighbours a rest tonight. They can listen to my Kooks marathon instead (just this one night). Kidding, I don't usually scream much. I only think of doing it.
I'm not doing very well. Like, I'm perfectly fine I guess - but I kind of just don't enjoy being fine. I enjoy being pushed and pulled in every direction. I crave the feeling of being focused and necessary. That's it... It's kind of coming to fruition in my mind as I type: I'm not really necessary (to anyone, anything) at this point in my life. It's as if me being here is relatively useless, and it's shitting me.
It's shitting me as well that I am so unable to motivate any kind of change from this state. I'm just like "hi, wow, this doesn't feel great, yeah, ok, cool'. Ugggggghhhhhhhhhhhh I just want to wish the feeling away. Okay. I'm done with feeling sorry for myself. I had a reason for coming on here tonight. I swear I did :\
Oh right, it had something to do with loneliness. But that sucks and I'm over it now.
I actually am so zoned out right now I can't think of anything remotely insightful to write.
I think I better go now before this gets even more shit.
Night, I'll be back. I think I'll need to write again soon.
xxxx
M.
I need to write. Well actually, I need to have a bit more of a cathartic scream into my echoey bathroom tiles - but I'll give my neighbours a rest tonight. They can listen to my Kooks marathon instead (just this one night). Kidding, I don't usually scream much. I only think of doing it.
I'm not doing very well. Like, I'm perfectly fine I guess - but I kind of just don't enjoy being fine. I enjoy being pushed and pulled in every direction. I crave the feeling of being focused and necessary. That's it... It's kind of coming to fruition in my mind as I type: I'm not really necessary (to anyone, anything) at this point in my life. It's as if me being here is relatively useless, and it's shitting me.
It's shitting me as well that I am so unable to motivate any kind of change from this state. I'm just like "hi, wow, this doesn't feel great, yeah, ok, cool'. Ugggggghhhhhhhhhhhh I just want to wish the feeling away. Okay. I'm done with feeling sorry for myself. I had a reason for coming on here tonight. I swear I did :\
Oh right, it had something to do with loneliness. But that sucks and I'm over it now.
I actually am so zoned out right now I can't think of anything remotely insightful to write.
I think I better go now before this gets even more shit.
Night, I'll be back. I think I'll need to write again soon.
xxxx
M.
Thursday, 21 May 2015
Shadows settle on the place that you left
Weird day, so I'm going to write. Weird everything, really. I'm not sure what I'm doing with anything I've got on my plate right now. It's one of those days where I've been basically zoned out every minute, kinda just making my way around because that's what humans are meant to do. I've always been so determined to force my life into this weirdly-ambiguous direction of completeness, if that makes sense. Like, I've always wanted to be one of those women who's got it all together (even though I never really believed it was achievable). I guess what I was truly aiming for was for people to at least assume I had it figured out, and that's where all my problems start.
For a while I didn't think I needed to talk about this stuff; I thought - hey - what if I just go with the flow and see how things turn out? Kind of like one of those choose-your-ending books, but viewing my life in a way so that each little fork in the road was more like a game of chance rather than some predetermined extravaganza of life-changing events. The premise felt inspirationally spontaneous; maybe through it I would transform into someone who might be able to ditch the habit of anxiously over-thinking everything. So, I did it for a while. I essentially closed my eyes, felt my heartbeat flick in a certain direction, and just went for it. I did things blindly, and probably stupidly, according to most people. I thought it might be some kind of antidote to my head spinning all the time. Like maybe 'chance' was this all-fixing mechanism that would make me less scared of things.
I'm still fucking scared. I'm sitting in the library now kind of squinting at this computer screen through a thin film of confused tears. I'm not exactly crying, either. Well actually, I'm not at all. I'm just confused. I want to figure out what my heart wants from my brain, and vice versa. They're shit communicators, those two. How the fuck to I get them to work together?
You know that super cliched saying "we accept the love we think we deserve"? I can't handle that. It seems true, in so many ways, and for so many people. I mean, I suppose it's true for friendship in many ways. But I just can't think that it is accurate for relationships, because every time I do - I start to realise how warped my perception of everything really is. That can't be right, can it? I can't want to be this confused on purpose? I can't honestly be only allowing people who make me question my own worth into my life? That's fucked up... I'm not that fucked up. Then why can't I stop? Is there anyone out there that won't make me question my adequacy? They have to exist, right?
FFS, please exist.
I'm flailing here.
For a while I didn't think I needed to talk about this stuff; I thought - hey - what if I just go with the flow and see how things turn out? Kind of like one of those choose-your-ending books, but viewing my life in a way so that each little fork in the road was more like a game of chance rather than some predetermined extravaganza of life-changing events. The premise felt inspirationally spontaneous; maybe through it I would transform into someone who might be able to ditch the habit of anxiously over-thinking everything. So, I did it for a while. I essentially closed my eyes, felt my heartbeat flick in a certain direction, and just went for it. I did things blindly, and probably stupidly, according to most people. I thought it might be some kind of antidote to my head spinning all the time. Like maybe 'chance' was this all-fixing mechanism that would make me less scared of things.
I'm still fucking scared. I'm sitting in the library now kind of squinting at this computer screen through a thin film of confused tears. I'm not exactly crying, either. Well actually, I'm not at all. I'm just confused. I want to figure out what my heart wants from my brain, and vice versa. They're shit communicators, those two. How the fuck to I get them to work together?
You know that super cliched saying "we accept the love we think we deserve"? I can't handle that. It seems true, in so many ways, and for so many people. I mean, I suppose it's true for friendship in many ways. But I just can't think that it is accurate for relationships, because every time I do - I start to realise how warped my perception of everything really is. That can't be right, can it? I can't want to be this confused on purpose? I can't honestly be only allowing people who make me question my own worth into my life? That's fucked up... I'm not that fucked up. Then why can't I stop? Is there anyone out there that won't make me question my adequacy? They have to exist, right?
FFS, please exist.
I'm flailing here.
Sunday, 17 May 2015
I just wanted to say
I feel like I haven't done this since I was 16 (and that's probably for the best) but I have this ridiculously overwhelming urge to be nostalgic and unnecessarily loving at least one more time before I get too old and serious to do so. I'm writing letters of gratitude to a handful of my best friends, and each of them will be anonymous, because that's all the fun. Haha, "fun" (I'm mostly kidding) - it's really because I want the sentiments to speak for themselves; for them to read it and feel instantaneously special (because they are). I care about each and every one of you so very much, and this blog post is to remind you why
one
If selflessness was manifested, it would be you. I used to hold you on this greater-than-human pedestal, but now that I've grown up a little bit more, I realised that doing that was probably the wrong thing to do. You aren't just somehow immune to human selfishness; you have the same urges, passions and weaknesses, but somehow your generosity still conquers all of that. I don't know if I would have survived a lot of things without your support, and I'll always owe you more than you could ever owe me. Seriously. Whether that's just someone to talk to, or a friend to make things familiar when you're feeling far away. I want to remind you that I want to know you for as long as I know myself. You make me feel like being generous too, and I never want to lose that.
two
You're the person I can be myself around. I don't think I can be more myself around anyone other than you. I love your laugh, and it's crazy how I know that we both are so accustomed to the sound of each other's happpy-sad-happy-sad laugh/cries all too well. When I dream of my dreams coming to reality, you're always in them. Deep down I feel like I can't do it without you - you calm me, motivate me and remind me to believe in myself so much I think I rely on it. You're one of the only people that I'm not competitive with, because (a) deep down I know you're smarter than me, and (b) I just want to be by your side regardless. We might not have exactly the same interests (and especially not the same taste in men), but we love in the same ways, and we fear the same things. That's what matters the most to me.
three
I think you're insane. Like in both totally great and pathological ways. I love that we're crazy when we're together, and that you can out-talk, out-think, and out-perform me in pretty much anything. Yet even though you're so unreal, you're so goddamn grounded. You understand people - in that beautifully touching way where you can tell that it's truly you putting yourself in others shoes. You just get it. You just get me. I know you do. I'm so proud of your incredible strength and humility (underneath all the outward ego it's what everyone actually sees). Not to mention your absolutely fucking genius mind. I boast about you constantly, I hope you know that. I miss you terribly when you semi-disappear when things get rough. Even though I understand, you better not leave me too often; it's hard for me to cope.
four
Whenever I'm lacking resoluteness, I think of you. I think of how you're so magically outside-of-the-box, but at the same time so comfortable within it. Basically, you are my most talented, logical and strangely enough, my most endearing friend. It's probably because you're cute, haha, but also I think it's because you are so loyal it scares me. It scares me because I feel at times like I'm not pulling my weight to deserve such loyalty. You were actually one of the primary reasons I wanted to do this post. I really want to remind the "rocks" of my life - like you - that I am sincerely, wholly grateful for everything you are to me. For every funny fortnightly musing; every little catch up. You were my favourite person for a long time, and you always will hold that title.
five
It's been a while since I could write a letter like this to you. I think I adored you more than anyone in the world for a fragment of time, but it's crazy how far away that seems now. I cherish your cynical faith in my idealism, and how you still see me as naive (because let's be honest, you know all of my downfalls). You're probably the reason for some of my life's shittest states of mind, but you're most definitely at fault for some of the best. I am so happy we've grown to where we are now. You're usually the first one I think of calling when I don't know who to talk to, and that's saying something.
six
You're a one-woman wonder - it's so inspiring. You literally always know exactly what to say. I could tell after the first year of knowing you that your heart and mine were made of the same stuff. We've spoken about it countless times, but I can without a doubt imagine you right next to me for each of the big events of my life. What means the most though, is that I am more sure of the fact that you'll be the first at my side if those big events don't work out as planned. You have the brightest future of anyone I know, probably because you're so charismatic, driven, beautiful and ruthlessly honest. Just thinking of you makes me happy. You're one of those people I'd say "please don't ever change" to, and actually mean it - you deserve so much love.
seven
I sometimes chuckle when I think of how different we are. So many things about us are completely incongruent, yet somehow we make it work better than anyone. Your spontaneity is absolutely contagious, and I love the way you're still so determined with everything you do. I think 10/10 we're probably never, ever going to be able to get rid of each other, so I guess you'll have to put up with my annoying habits and self-absorbedness for another 80 years. I feel like you're the first person I'd trust with my most embarrassing things, even though I end up telling people anyway. But being first counts, right? That's it though, I love that most of what we do is this weird interplay of paying each other out like assholes and sending each other 50000 love hearts. I love it, like I love your silly face.
Okay more than 7 people will probably force Google to ban my blog for being disgustingly corny and unreadable.
Hope the 7 people I wrote about appreciate them though.
Over and out,
Mielz
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
one
If selflessness was manifested, it would be you. I used to hold you on this greater-than-human pedestal, but now that I've grown up a little bit more, I realised that doing that was probably the wrong thing to do. You aren't just somehow immune to human selfishness; you have the same urges, passions and weaknesses, but somehow your generosity still conquers all of that. I don't know if I would have survived a lot of things without your support, and I'll always owe you more than you could ever owe me. Seriously. Whether that's just someone to talk to, or a friend to make things familiar when you're feeling far away. I want to remind you that I want to know you for as long as I know myself. You make me feel like being generous too, and I never want to lose that.
two
You're the person I can be myself around. I don't think I can be more myself around anyone other than you. I love your laugh, and it's crazy how I know that we both are so accustomed to the sound of each other's happpy-sad-happy-sad laugh/cries all too well. When I dream of my dreams coming to reality, you're always in them. Deep down I feel like I can't do it without you - you calm me, motivate me and remind me to believe in myself so much I think I rely on it. You're one of the only people that I'm not competitive with, because (a) deep down I know you're smarter than me, and (b) I just want to be by your side regardless. We might not have exactly the same interests (and especially not the same taste in men), but we love in the same ways, and we fear the same things. That's what matters the most to me.
three
I think you're insane. Like in both totally great and pathological ways. I love that we're crazy when we're together, and that you can out-talk, out-think, and out-perform me in pretty much anything. Yet even though you're so unreal, you're so goddamn grounded. You understand people - in that beautifully touching way where you can tell that it's truly you putting yourself in others shoes. You just get it. You just get me. I know you do. I'm so proud of your incredible strength and humility (underneath all the outward ego it's what everyone actually sees). Not to mention your absolutely fucking genius mind. I boast about you constantly, I hope you know that. I miss you terribly when you semi-disappear when things get rough. Even though I understand, you better not leave me too often; it's hard for me to cope.
four
Whenever I'm lacking resoluteness, I think of you. I think of how you're so magically outside-of-the-box, but at the same time so comfortable within it. Basically, you are my most talented, logical and strangely enough, my most endearing friend. It's probably because you're cute, haha, but also I think it's because you are so loyal it scares me. It scares me because I feel at times like I'm not pulling my weight to deserve such loyalty. You were actually one of the primary reasons I wanted to do this post. I really want to remind the "rocks" of my life - like you - that I am sincerely, wholly grateful for everything you are to me. For every funny fortnightly musing; every little catch up. You were my favourite person for a long time, and you always will hold that title.
five
It's been a while since I could write a letter like this to you. I think I adored you more than anyone in the world for a fragment of time, but it's crazy how far away that seems now. I cherish your cynical faith in my idealism, and how you still see me as naive (because let's be honest, you know all of my downfalls). You're probably the reason for some of my life's shittest states of mind, but you're most definitely at fault for some of the best. I am so happy we've grown to where we are now. You're usually the first one I think of calling when I don't know who to talk to, and that's saying something.
six
You're a one-woman wonder - it's so inspiring. You literally always know exactly what to say. I could tell after the first year of knowing you that your heart and mine were made of the same stuff. We've spoken about it countless times, but I can without a doubt imagine you right next to me for each of the big events of my life. What means the most though, is that I am more sure of the fact that you'll be the first at my side if those big events don't work out as planned. You have the brightest future of anyone I know, probably because you're so charismatic, driven, beautiful and ruthlessly honest. Just thinking of you makes me happy. You're one of those people I'd say "please don't ever change" to, and actually mean it - you deserve so much love.
seven
I sometimes chuckle when I think of how different we are. So many things about us are completely incongruent, yet somehow we make it work better than anyone. Your spontaneity is absolutely contagious, and I love the way you're still so determined with everything you do. I think 10/10 we're probably never, ever going to be able to get rid of each other, so I guess you'll have to put up with my annoying habits and self-absorbedness for another 80 years. I feel like you're the first person I'd trust with my most embarrassing things, even though I end up telling people anyway. But being first counts, right? That's it though, I love that most of what we do is this weird interplay of paying each other out like assholes and sending each other 50000 love hearts. I love it, like I love your silly face.
Okay more than 7 people will probably force Google to ban my blog for being disgustingly corny and unreadable.
Hope the 7 people I wrote about appreciate them though.
Over and out,
Mielz
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sunday, 22 March 2015
You say your heart is on your sleeve...?
I was writing on here 4 months ago about getting your ego sucker-punched, and I was actually endorsing it. Was I fucked in the head? Likely. However, at this very point in time - I'm not quite loving the feeling of having to nurse my ego back to good health after a pretty severe blow. But I'm not even sure if it's just my ego that's taken a beating - I for sure think it's my heart too, but why? Why can some people separate their heart from things so easily?
I'm not sure if I could ever do that, you know, take my vulnerable heart and put it somewhere far away from my mind.
I genuinely love the feeling of having it out in the open. I feel like sometimes there's something monstrous and sadistic in me that just wants to get hurt (over and over and over again)... but that's not fair. It can't be like that. It just can't. Instead I'm dying to believe there's something overly trusting and passionate in me that's too stubborn to be hidden. There's something within me that's fiercely burning, wanting to be taught about the world in all it's horrible glory.
Why must it be like this... God knows. But right now I'm trying to convince myself it's okay. Convince myself that 'OK, maybe you made a shit-ass decision this time, but something better is coming' (said to self for the thousandth time). I wonder if people actually have it better figured out than me all of the time. How do people do it?
Is it a legit thing where some people have their life together and it doesn't sometimes suck, and they don't feel ridiculously out of their depth with knowledge of the awful things happening in the world... and hence they don't have to deal with this suffocating, perpetual guilt of dwelling in their own petty sadness?
It's an everlasting battle I've been having and honestly my foundations are starting to crack. I want to get out of my own head. I truly, sincerely want to. But some days, the metaphorical doorknob just disappears and I forget how open it. So - today I realised that I think that's why I never let my heart hide. It's there, waiting, hoping to find someone who can teach me how to open that door.
I'm not sure if I could ever do that, you know, take my vulnerable heart and put it somewhere far away from my mind.
I genuinely love the feeling of having it out in the open. I feel like sometimes there's something monstrous and sadistic in me that just wants to get hurt (over and over and over again)... but that's not fair. It can't be like that. It just can't. Instead I'm dying to believe there's something overly trusting and passionate in me that's too stubborn to be hidden. There's something within me that's fiercely burning, wanting to be taught about the world in all it's horrible glory.
Why must it be like this... God knows. But right now I'm trying to convince myself it's okay. Convince myself that 'OK, maybe you made a shit-ass decision this time, but something better is coming' (said to self for the thousandth time). I wonder if people actually have it better figured out than me all of the time. How do people do it?
Is it a legit thing where some people have their life together and it doesn't sometimes suck, and they don't feel ridiculously out of their depth with knowledge of the awful things happening in the world... and hence they don't have to deal with this suffocating, perpetual guilt of dwelling in their own petty sadness?
It's an everlasting battle I've been having and honestly my foundations are starting to crack. I want to get out of my own head. I truly, sincerely want to. But some days, the metaphorical doorknob just disappears and I forget how open it. So - today I realised that I think that's why I never let my heart hide. It's there, waiting, hoping to find someone who can teach me how to open that door.
Wednesday, 4 March 2015
Monday, 23 February 2015
New Romantics
Just spent the last 30 mins jamming to T swiz in the bathroom, and felt the burning urge to write here about my favouritest of favourite topics of all time; love. Gag. Nah but seriously, I need to get this ramblefuck out of my system somewhere or else the next person I just happen to be drunk-reflective with will get the butt end of this brain-shit. SO I've decided do a a massive dump here. Is that okay with everyone? (by everyone I mean my 1-2 dedicated readers who are probably responsible for half the views on this page)... but alright. Love. damnit. Love.
I'm a reformed hopeless romantic. NOT meaning I'm any less hopeless or any less romantic; just a different mixture of the two. I don't believe in monogamy to an extent now - not wholly, anyway. I believe it's achievable, I just doubt that humanity was programmed to do it. It's hard to admit, but the reality of romance IS a hopeless one. To find one love is to fight against all odds; it's commitment and compromise. But on top of that, love is not a once in a lifetime thing. People can - and do - have lifetime loves - but some people have twenty. It doesn't make them any less severe, or breathtaking, or ...necessary.
But what makes it real? Isn't it utterly subjective? I think so. I was chatting with a friend the other day, and we were trying to think of the most romantic thing that has ever happened to us. The most obvious thing dawned on me at that very moment - not only did most of my stupid stories involve food (lel, typical) - but they were all so ridiculously mundane compared to other stories I have heard in my lifetime. Things like a drive to the pharmacy for neurofen... or 10 chicken nuggets after a fight; these moments came up in my brain so vividly I couldn't think of anything else.
"You deserve someone who adores you." they say.
Best-friends, sisters, and even drunken girls in the bathrooms of grimy clubs will tell you this. But what do they mean? Do they mean presents and public screams of affection? I'm not sure. You know what? That stuff essentially means jack all. I'm certain it helps relationships for some people, sure. But from my experience even that can leave you empty. It feels hypocritical to say - being one of those obnoxious humans myself that has posted constantly about my love life in the past - but I do successfully realise the superficiality of my past ways. It's not like I'm going to stop. If something makes me happy, I'll share it: it's who I am. But I shouldn't let it define the very essence of what it's supposed to represent.
This is where it gets confusing. How do you know someone adores you once superficial displays of adoration are disregarded? How do you know you're being cared for that extra little bit over everyone else? That's what's frieking getting to me about love tonight. You never really just know. It's honestly getting on my nerves, to the existential breaking point of wondering whether anyone has actually ever been in love with me. CRAZY: that's what dwelling on the concept of love does to people
This whole Cinderella-upbringing I've had has immensely fucked me up. I put way too much emphasis on the entire concept of romance. It's actually doing my head in. Psychology and theories of affection aren't helping either... sigh. I think I need to stop writing because this is starting to actually not make any sense at all.
So there is tonight's brain poo. In all it's gooey lovey dovey glory.
It really had no start, no middle, and effectively no end.
But I just needed to write it because It makes me feel better. Mmm. I feel better.
More t-swizzle now
Ciao x
I'm a reformed hopeless romantic. NOT meaning I'm any less hopeless or any less romantic; just a different mixture of the two. I don't believe in monogamy to an extent now - not wholly, anyway. I believe it's achievable, I just doubt that humanity was programmed to do it. It's hard to admit, but the reality of romance IS a hopeless one. To find one love is to fight against all odds; it's commitment and compromise. But on top of that, love is not a once in a lifetime thing. People can - and do - have lifetime loves - but some people have twenty. It doesn't make them any less severe, or breathtaking, or ...necessary.
But what makes it real? Isn't it utterly subjective? I think so. I was chatting with a friend the other day, and we were trying to think of the most romantic thing that has ever happened to us. The most obvious thing dawned on me at that very moment - not only did most of my stupid stories involve food (lel, typical) - but they were all so ridiculously mundane compared to other stories I have heard in my lifetime. Things like a drive to the pharmacy for neurofen... or 10 chicken nuggets after a fight; these moments came up in my brain so vividly I couldn't think of anything else.
"You deserve someone who adores you." they say.
Best-friends, sisters, and even drunken girls in the bathrooms of grimy clubs will tell you this. But what do they mean? Do they mean presents and public screams of affection? I'm not sure. You know what? That stuff essentially means jack all. I'm certain it helps relationships for some people, sure. But from my experience even that can leave you empty. It feels hypocritical to say - being one of those obnoxious humans myself that has posted constantly about my love life in the past - but I do successfully realise the superficiality of my past ways. It's not like I'm going to stop. If something makes me happy, I'll share it: it's who I am. But I shouldn't let it define the very essence of what it's supposed to represent.
This is where it gets confusing. How do you know someone adores you once superficial displays of adoration are disregarded? How do you know you're being cared for that extra little bit over everyone else? That's what's frieking getting to me about love tonight. You never really just know. It's honestly getting on my nerves, to the existential breaking point of wondering whether anyone has actually ever been in love with me. CRAZY: that's what dwelling on the concept of love does to people
This whole Cinderella-upbringing I've had has immensely fucked me up. I put way too much emphasis on the entire concept of romance. It's actually doing my head in. Psychology and theories of affection aren't helping either... sigh. I think I need to stop writing because this is starting to actually not make any sense at all.
So there is tonight's brain poo. In all it's gooey lovey dovey glory.
It really had no start, no middle, and effectively no end.
But I just needed to write it because It makes me feel better. Mmm. I feel better.
More t-swizzle now
Ciao x
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