put up. or shut the fuck up.

My friend said this to me today:

"Why can't we be the one they wanna change the game for? Not make them change; force it one them, just be ourselves and that fact alone is inspiring."

And I immediately thought of this:

"When the pawn hits the conflicts he thinks like a king

What he knows throws the blows when he goes to the fight

And he'll win the whole thing 'fore he enters the ring

There's no body to batter when your mind is your might

So when you go solo, you hold your own hand

And remember that depth is the greatest of heights

And if you know where you stand, then you know where to land

And if you fall it won't matter, cuz you'll know that you're right."

(the title of Fiona Apple's second album, also know as 'When the Pawn')

"I hardly know you, I think I can tell. These are the reasons I think that I'm ill..."

Shit is so weird.

taking a mental dump| priorities vs options.

"Don't make someone a priority, when you're only an option"

I use to think the above quote was beyond cheesy.

And now I don't.

Maybe it's because during the last couple of months I've been including people into my life who have made me feel like I'm just an option. I've set seen them as a priority; something not to be taken lightly, and have acted accordingly. But I'm still the option.

One of many.

Typical.

If there are two things I hate feeling it's stupid and that I'm typical or average.

Because I know like hell I'm not.

But what happens when all you want to do is bust heads against hard surfaces so these 'people' take you seriously. You want to shake the shit out of everyone who doesn't get it, but you can't because you're too proud to admit: "Hey asshole, we GOTS a problem". What happens when you want to reinvent yourself and switch roles; from an option into a priority.

I'm still trying to figure out if that shit is even possible...let alone, worth it.

taking a mental dump| numero uno.

I have a huge brain. Not all of it is filled with bright shiny objects and ideas. A lot of my brain is consumed with thoughts; things ranging from the meaningless - whether or not I forgot to unplug my flat iron - all the way down the pretty terrifying (what the fuck AM I really doing with my life). Most of the time I can handle the overload, all it takes is a cocktail and a book to take my mind off of, well...my mind, but this time I thought it'd be fun to share the crazy with the interwebs because of it's therapeutic qualities...........................

(blank. stare)

I'm addicted to Tumblr.
No seriously I think I'm officially an addict. A couple months ago I scoffed at the idea of Tumblr. I mean, who really wants a "blog" that you just post pictures on? Who really wants a hassle free way to share your favorite music, video, quotes, and photos while also having the option to reblog your favorite things from other Tumblrs? I wanted that and I didn't even know it. Now before I check my email, I check my Tumblr. I reblog like it's my job. I follow like a pre-teen looking up to Miley Cyrus. I change themes about as often as I change underwear. It's bad. Real bad.

I got Photoshop!
I feel like a new woman. I feel like the dark shadow that was looming over my head like a bad dye job is now lifted. Completely removed. Gone forever. I will never again not be able to resize my gigantic photos. I can download fonts and actually have a place to use them. I can do anything, and it's all because I'm in posession of a program that costs the equivalent of one months rent of a one bedroom apartment in New York City. And I got it for free. God is so good!

Finding writing jobs with benefits is the most terrifying thing in the world.
It makes me want to cry sometimes knowing that the one thing in the world I'd love to do for the rest of my existence on this planet, happens to be one of those jobs that is damn near impossible to find. Looking for a job in New York is shaping up to be the equivalent of looking for size small panties on the last day of the Victoria Secret Semi Annual Sale. One in a fucking million.

The Backstreet Boys are coming to Pittsburgh.
My life is now complete. I can worry no longer whether or not I'll get to see them before I die a premature death involving insane amounts of alcohol. Jesus totally loves me.

Gosh, that felt great!