It's been awhile, but I need to dedicate to writing to you.

Yesterday was like staring in a lapse in time. I ran into one of my old friends, one of the ones I hadn't seen in years. Surely to find out she has had a baby. My mind reeled, I don't understand how someone nineteen years old could allow this to happen - to ruin their life and the life of a child. I stopped and thought long and hard about all the hardships she was telling me she went through, and as well as all the hardships my long last friends had been through and for a split second I was grateful for the demons in my head. The demons that took me away from them and the things that they were doing.

Would I have ended up like them? Is nurture more important than nature? Is the fact that I stayed home alone for two years the thing that changed my mentality to a more stable one? Had I been with them would I be nineteen with child too?

These are all things I am happy about - through the pain, I have come out on top somehow.

I'm confused about some things though. I'm feeling bored, that I don't do anything, that I don't know anyone, that I don't matter in the grand scope of things. I was playing World of Warcraft last night like I ususally do and was just to antsy to move. I had to get out of it - and do something, with someone new. Told John that I was logging off, and got dressed. Dressed to the nines. 5'' heels. To do what? Sleep.

I fell asleep all dolled up and woke up with my make-up down my face. Why didn't I go anywhere? Why didn't I have the courage?

I need to find a way to break this vicious cycle because I feel I am losing myself, and dying inside.

“ Don’t be afraid.. Just in once in a lifetime. “

It’s that time again.. The holidays. The time where I am grateful for the experiences I’ve had in my life, as well as my memories, but also the time where I look back on so many regrets. I do this every year, and they most all don’t know it. This is to my best friend in the world, it’s been three years since we last spoke - but I carry your picture around in my wallet still. I miss you so much, Grace. I need someone to talk to again, someone that understands certain aspects of who I am that he never will. I need a girl to understand my quirks, to love me. I miss you, always will. Every holiday season I remember all the holidays we spent together with our friends -- precious years. No. I do not believe we grow up and move on. To me, things froze in time.. And I don’t think we can possibly be too different for each other. I hope we can actually talk one day, again, like we used to.

This year I will once again be filling my plate with nonsense. Being someone I’m not, until I can escape again. I don’t know what my issue is with family - I don’t believe in it. I don’t respect the mother figure, nor the father figure just because they gave birth. I believe people need to earn their respect, yes, even parents. I don’t see why a child would cling to a sinking ship.. Maybe it’s because I’m adopted that I don’t understand that unconditional love feeling. All my love has always been conditional.

( Conditional. You must walk on egg shells around me. Don’t speak your mind. Lie to me. )

In light of Thanksgiving however, I’m thankful for him. Thankful someone can fall in love with me. Thankful for the friends I’ve made this year. For the fun I’ve been so lucky to have ( sometimes at my own expense. ;] ) For my mother, who has always been there for me and supportive of my bad habits. For my mind, as perverse and backwards as it is - it is still here and not all can say that. For my hea-scratch that. For my two kittens, who give me a reason to wake up in the morning.

I remember when I had it all figured out.

I was going to marry my first kiss, major in Psychology and minor in Paranormal Psychology. It's a long slippery slope from that day to where I am now. Confused, and unsure. People have habits, and responsibilities, and things that they do - I have none of these things. My life is truly one of chance - where whatever I say goes. People would think of this as a luxury, it's much more a curse.

Leaves me spending days in and day out wondering if I'm happy - what will I do tomorrow? What will I be doing a year from now? Anyone who has known me has seen me doing a million and one things, anyone from the outside would consider me a liar according to half the things I have said I have done in the past, or am in the process of doing. What person my age has lead so many lives? None. I guess this puts me at a disadvantage when it comes to relationships - how can someone compare? How can a man possibly entertain me, when I don't find life itself entertaining enough.

I like to people watch, listen to their problems, to their lives, to their cycles. Cycles like work, school, drinking, or pleasing the family. It must be soothing knowing you have something instore the next day - not going to sleep unsure you are really going to be doing anything. It's rough - maybe a need more of a social life - then again, I tend to use social lives as entertainment - not a way to make life long friendships and bonds.. or life partners and such.

I'm stuck in a rut. Love-life, Career-wise, and personally. I guess a rut is my cycle - something to know that I'm gonna be waking up to the next day.

Enter the man, stage one. Things are great, seemingly happy, more like content. Fine. Fixed. CUSTOMIZED. Been four years now.. not much has changed. I guess I could have known better, and chased after someone more my speed - perhaps someone older who could really tell me ( or force me ) to settle down. Or someone wide, independent, that could turn my world inside out and excite me. No, I played it safe. I chose to be with someone who would never leave me, nor I him. Safe. God forbid I engaged the real world, it could possibly hurt me.. and that's one risk I am not willing to take.

So come on life.. we have nothing to get to.

I want to tell a story.

A story of a man who married a beautiful woman - and was married to her for 52 years. A man who bore a beautiful little girl, who had a heart bigger than the center of the universe. A man who loved his family, and loved people, and lived to serve. A stubborn, funny, brilliant man who changed many lives in his 94 years..

Up until five months ago, he still drove his car, and still ran his business. Five months ago though, he became very ill. My grandfather died this Monday -- I didn't think I would cry, I didn't think I would feel so much pain. I thought, he was old.. he lived his life.. but - he was 94.. and still had so much more to do and to give. My grandfather loved me.. He made it clear everytime I saw him -- and I was selfish.. didn't want to see him because of my stupid insecurities..

I hope he didn't die hating me -- and worst of all I hope he didn't die thinking I didn't love him.

Abu, I love you. I hope you watch over my mom from up there - you and Bela.. she needs you now more than ever. She took care of both of you from the bottom of her heart, and now she needs you two in heaven to look down on her. I can't do it all on my own. I'm so sorry I was so childish - and didn't come and see you.. had I known.. had I had an idea.. I would change everything. You reminded me, in your death, that while I may feel alone -- I did have some family here.. family that loved me and included me in their universe..

R.I.P. Abu -- Nov. 1912 - Jul. 2006.

I'm just so obsessive.

Coming in bright and early on my day off.. on a Saturday. Wonderful. Not to mention I am on no sleep, since last night we decided to se up a 3-day LAN/WoW binge and were up till about.. oh, now that I just got into work. Things are slow for sure, no money coming in which is far too evident on my paycheck.

Let me tell you.. watching everyone around me losing weight is torture, knowing I have a boyfriend to go home to who loves me how I am is comforting, but I used to be a freakin' size 0 for crying out loud! Now.. what? 6? 8? Kinda uphill for me apparently, but it's ok.. beauty is within, and I've grown to love my curves and womanhood.

On another tangent, never be open.. and trusting of people.. I'm -very- naive, and excited to make friends. I talk too much, go on and on about my personal life and in turn end up admitting that I'm a gamer, and a fetishist. Both which are tottally out of scene for a medical spa.. so now I feel squashed in questions/concerns/comments from people who are curious but concerned. I've just always been comfortable being me.. and I feel respected for it. I don't hide in shame from my life, my choices, and who I am. It's not right - and it wouldn't be me. Life is too short to spend time not living it the way you want it too.. life is too maliable, make it yours, do what you want when you want too. ( Hilarious that I'm saying that when just a few paragraphs up I was making fun of the fact that I have to be here on a Saturday morning when I don't want too. :/ )

Damnit. I did it again.. re-subscribed my World of Warcraft account.. now I really have something to keep me from doing the things I have to do. Playing with friends is relaxing though, I don't seem to find the time nor energy to sit and play an RPG anymore.. except Legendia surely has suckered in my attention for a few nights. The online world is more calling my name now, and the MMORPG bug is bitin' hard.

Work.. makes me miss my computer and games though. The escape, and the solitude is sweet, not to mention the fantasy of it all. Work.. is so unstable, and so fake.. it's hard to believe that we might not make it past the summer season - with our prices, and lack of any kind of real spa services who are they to blame? I've tried to have meetings with them, and sit them down and speak out some ideas - but they don't seem to like the criticism, especially not from their new girl. I could help run this place to the ground then if that's what they want.

All else aside.. things are pretty good. DreamVale morale is up big time thanks to World of Warcraft now - the more we can all sit and play games, the moreso we want to keep makin' em. Maybe this week'll look up - indeed it well, cause PayDay is tomarrow. ;D

Growing up isn't what I thought it would be.

With maturity comes responsibility, one would have thought this was a given - I, however, was misled. This is a lot harder than I intended it to be. Hopes and dreams of being the one to run the show are long gone. It seems like I am not qualified enough to run my own life, the only real manager I can ever be is of myself. It's disheartening. I have so much more to offer than being some puppet.. but rent payment is encroaching and I find myself more and more desperate to please someone else than too cry over green bills.

So I ask you -- is anyone satisified with their position? Do factory workers feel proud? Is work, and status really what determines joy? How can I change into one of those people.

I understand my age plays a huge deal, that I should be studying more - and in school -- but I'm not. I can't handle, nor would I want to handle that sort of thing.. but alas -- I may have no choice, and give in to what society teaches me I should be.. and what my true potential is.

What happened to the girl who wasn't afraid to speak her mind?

The notion of being both an extrovert and an introvert is one of confusion. How can someone want to be able to interact and be able to survive in a social situation while all the while hating it? How can someone stay indoors for days and even weeks at a time without so much blinking, and then suddenly crave human attention?

Where do we go from here?

I've also noticed something so simple in this world. Everyone wants to be happy - we pay money for the drugs, we sleep with strangers, we abuse alcohol and ourselves and to what avail? If we each decided to make the person next to us truly happy - would it not come around to us? Would we not all then be happy? Is it so hard to show kindness to strangers? To smile at your server? To not complain if someone isn't quick with their response? I find it hard to believe how cruel we can be to one another - at all ages.

The art of love is also a complicated one. I have fallen into a love trap.. where I am in love, and feel loved. Yet, I can't help but feel pangs of depression deeper than I ever have before. Why? It must be fear. Fear of losing, and fear of being left alone once again. Hated. Rejected.

People are a complicated bunch. I could watch them all day - and I do. Amazing how I say the world has no influence on me, and yet I do all in my power to be just like them. Look like them. Act like them. Live like them. To achieve all they achieve, and to desire all they want to desire. To be the perfect puppet, eventually. But how can we all be individuals? Is it even possible? I'm starting to believe we are all clones of each other's traits.. all replicated. We find our matches, our group of friends when we find the same concentrated, over-exaggerated trait in each other. That's how we choose our wives, husbands and friends. How similar they are to the traits we want to copy.

My entries don't make much sense to me really. I think school and happiness has blinded my intelligence. I can't write things how I used to anymore, and sometimes I get good ideas which I can't seem to transfer down on paper. All I really want is a good game to snuggle up to, and a lot of ice cream.. and god damnit, I'm too lazy to go get either.

Suicide is such the romantic notion.

You make me so nervous.

I don’t want to believe you – believe what you’re saying.. but sometimes you put doubts into my own mind. I figure I don’t need you to be like me, and then you tell me why you should. Perhaps we’re just on a sinking boat.. and we should take a break for a little while – see who we really are, what we really need.. but that would just bring me back to what I already know.. and that is that I need and want you.

I can handle the pressures, and I can handle your family, and I can handle your finances.. that’s not what matters most to me – what matters to me is the sound of your voice in the morning, the warmth of your arms at night, the laughter we share, and the tears we hide.

Don’t tell me it’s over.. because then I’ll believe you.

Falling in love is the worst thing a woman can do. All your time comes swept up in this person, and you notice how slowly you’ve abandoned all your ambitions, all your dreams, and your career. You want to spend more time with him, more than you want to spend time building your empire. It’s a bitter sweet trade off.

People say only weak women fall in love like this, and put their lives on the back burner, but I beg to differ. I think even the most independent of women needs someone to hold her, and someone to please. I’m not complaining, oh no, far from it.. just stating a fact on how screwed I’d be if things were to hit a rocky slope.

DreamVale is taking off, for the best. I’m excited, doors are opening left and right and my boys are just the best team I could ever ask for. Talented, hard working, the best of friends.. and we are only getting started!

Since the name change, ALT has taken a turn for the better.. I see more attention on it, and more drive on my part to pump more into an ad campaign for it. ALT Cosmetics will be the new MAC.. I tell you that much. And yes, I do have high aspirations, we only live once.. best to grab life by the horns and make something of yourself – or else watch everyone else take your spot.

As stated earlier, I sit here in a bittersweet state. Half wanting to curl up and hide, before things go sour.. before I have another reason to truly pitty myself. The other half has already brought out her chains and riding crop out to conquer the world.

Watch her ride…

I've been bled dry from all angles now.

I sit here successful, but alone - empty, and sad. Here I sit, on top of several years of issues and diagnoses, claims and dissputes - a life that was taken from a movie script and turned around to meet reality. I look around me and I'm in a strangers home, a stranger who says he loves me - but with all the voices in my head it's hard to believe this.. this stranger who claims to love every part of me. Can I really believe that someone would love every part of me? Parts that have been attacked, and seperated and raped and brutally torn apart.

I wonder. In this strangers house, what shred of realism is there in what I show to the world?

I'm not doing too well financially either, it seems I help so many people only not to see the fruits of my labor. I wish certain things would take off and fly, I wish I could sit and process orders but until I can build respect, it won't happen. I wish my team was together, in an office, with the right hardware and software so that we could get things done, I wish I was in the state of mind to be able to hold meetings with my team without needing a ` few drinks ` to relax first. I want my website to be up. I want to get into modeling. I want to be immortalized in images, and be able to be proud of the photos.

I also hate families. I hate the sound of control, and the voice of reason. I will never do things within acceptable terms, I will never mold myself into the ideal woman that people want, or do the cliche things in life.. like get a proper education, have 2.5 kids, wash the dishes and know how to clean a fucking house. I want to break the cookie cutter mold, and I long to tear this stranger away.. make him understand what it is to be torn emotionally.

No one can really comfort me, and thats the sadness of it all. How I want someone to tell me the right thing at the right time and tell me things will be ok - but they won't. They don't know how. And I fight for people, and I want them to be happy.. and allow them to turn around and enjoy their lives while I busy myself and fill myself with nothing, to try and fill this void.

Maybe I need to be forced to grow up and face the facts, which I have, I face it everyday and I shove it down everyday - this is my only real outlet.

It seems I've been everything but a woman lately, and I kind of miss it. I've been a housekeeper, a CEO, a control freak, an employee, an annoyance, and God knows what else - but certainly not a woman.

I can't remember the last time I shampooed my hair a little while longer to linger on the fresh scent, or took two hours to shave, or laid and listened to music while my nails dried, or truly felt happy to be a woman, or be made feel like one. In my attempt to make everyone around me happy, I've forgotten about myself. This is very evident when things happen around me that seem unfair, when after I use all my resources to help everyone my resources run dry and all people can talk to me about are themselves, or their things.. and mine are overshadowed. I think you're all I have left, dear diary. Well.. something that listens to me without trying to change the subject, or trying to `fix` me in the `right` direction.

Sigh. I don't know. Maybe I owe myself a long bath, with bubbles, and music and candle light.. to be able to feel my own skin, and run my fingers through my hair gently. Spend a good hour to blow dry my hair, try out some new colors, go and smile at the register girl who will ring up the book I've been dying to purchase..

Something.. something for me.

I just wish I didn't cry while doing it. Because I feel unproductive. I guess it's because I don't feel I'm important enough to spend the time on.

Pieces of me are still left in all of you..

Some things never left that night, and some things never came back. Strands of memories will forever be locked in your closet, and shadows of me will always haunt you. I don't know why I hate so much.

I figured I could search for myself in you, in him, and in her.. figured I could run to this distant land in my mind and find myself - and when I was ready run back and tell everyone about my grand discovery of the self.. only to find out that I was running back to no one. Not one single person who waited for me.. who cared enough.

It doesn't hurt that I had no audience, what hurt is all the shit I did for you all. The times I helped you with your families, how I would kiss away your tears when they told you you would amount to nothing, how you could speak to me sober and feel understanding, how I told you I loved you.. and how I should have meant it - and how you smiled everytime I lied and said I did..

The things I made you all feel.. NO ONE else would have done that for you. I could have at least been given the chance to find myself since I was so busy helping you. I will continue living your lives though, because I love you all that god damn much. A love you will never understand because you are so wrapped up in your own worlds to even consider someone else.

All in all.. I've made mistakes in my life. And I will always try to piece together the shards which stayed in that chapel, on that bus, in that car, and in that room.. pieces of me I can't let go..

I write this in tears, dear diary - for I know life will bring me many joys, that will always be overshadowed by the pain. Because I will always wonder if you would have been just as happy, if I would have been just as happy.

{ But if I can't swim after 40 days,
and my mind is crushed by the
crashing waves, lift me up so high
that I cannot fall, lift me up. }


My stomach wrenches, my mind is pounding, just when I think I'm clawing myself upwards - I begin to spiral downwards. I notice I only write about the negative, but be glad that the nights I do not write in here are nights that I am happy - and have no reason to think and babble on about emotions. ( And as I have noticed, my entries have been few and far between recently which means I am getting better. )

When someone says I'm beautiful - I do all in my power to tear it down. My face is bleeding, my hair is becoming ratty slowly, my stomach is bloated to insane amounts due to the overfeeding to destroy this `beautiful` body I supposedly have. I want to tear my skin in two, I want to rip my hair from my scalp, I want to lay naked upon a cobblestone altar and have people look at what's beneath the false, what is beneath the image - look at what I see every morning and night - what the others don't see.

It's not easy living a lie.

( I found your necklace today. ) The memories brought back too much pain. The social anxiety was creeping up on me earlier today - and more and more did I become to realize how I must look like an animal to other people. The way I claw at my fingertips, the way may teeth bend strangely against the little bit of flesh left on my fingertips, the blood under my fingernails from digging holes into my scalp, the way my eyes shift away from any conversation - and lips curl to find comfort behind the sucking of my mouth. Anything. Anything to shy away from them. Anything to make them stop wanting to talk to me. Anything to scare them away.

I hate them all. I really do. I loathe people. ( In a bitter - jealous - spiteful sense of the word - hate-. ) I want to move. Move away from them - move him away with me. Kidnap him and make this perfect world where I can make believe that it's ok to be crazy - create this world where it's ok, we're ok - and I can live my life as I please.. too fast and all too slow. With too much alcohol and not enough sleep. Staying up crying, and then waking to sex. Having friends, who I actually talk to or keep in touch with. Having a way to have an income, not pretending that I will be ok financially. Binging on peace and serenity. Dancing all night, feeling seductive like a woman. Wearing leather everyday and heels that are unhealthy high - having a chocolate cigarette in my mouth at all times.

To be honest: I don't know what I want. I don't know what I expect. I'm having a temper tantrum. ( and everyday I feel more and more like a five year old ; lost and confused ; crying and not knowing why ; screaming and not able to fix the world around her ; misunderstood. )

Wasn't I the fool to think I was through with you? Yet after all these years you still send your demons after me. I write this in anger for once, not in my usual self loathing. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you especially. I'm tired of the memories of you ruining my life. I am sick of your voice, I am sick of your presence, I am sick of your control. Your voice sends these pangs.. these brutals pangs of anger down my body - which are hard to duplicate. The thought of you makes me hate myself. You are the essence of everything I don't want to be. Pathetic. Crawling. Oh God, How my hate clouds even what I write. It's surging. To only rid you, to throw you away, to tear every strand from your body over and over again would not even -begin!- to cover the pain you caused me. You liar. Liar. Liar.

I was a fool to trust you. A fool to believe. A fool to allow myself to fall in love with you.. and a fool to continue trying to have this morbid affair with you. How many prayers from countless lips have gone to rid you? How many days have I layed in wait for you to come and help me - and you never came, you loved to watch me suffer, you loved to watch my stomach convulse in hunger/fullness -- and you just left me there ( with the promise that you'd always be there. )

I can't believe I still search for you. ( I can't believe you even sent HIM after me. ) Oh.. you knew, you knew the moment I heard his voice I would regress.. regress to the three years ago where I held you, and kissed you, and needed you. Does it hurt you that I don't need you anymore ( butido ).

I write this in an anger that I cannot comprehend. Where every piece of me hurts.. and is pumped with blood.. and heat. Where I want to scream and cry and show you what you've done to me.

But.. you're not really real, are you?

I have this strange sinking feeling...

I had to have been driving near 90, the air was so low my skin was frostbitten and blue. I feel so black and white. I feel out of control and loving/hating it. Things have now gone beyond my control - my vices are slowly fleeting ( and I am scared to death ) ; my guards are being let down.

I've let go of the sweater. Kind of. My security blanket may be no more, my body may not be my enemy, my future is still so bleak. What if my dreams collapse around me? What if it all falls apart? Is it really fair that the happy you become, the more greedy you get with your joy. You cling to it, and never want it to leave. I get scared when my smile fades, I feel scared when I'm away from him, I'm broken when I don't feel useful - and I have been happy - and I don't want it to end.

I guess that is the irony of it all. You either spend your life miserable, or being worried about being miserable once more.

{ I guess I'm in a haze. }

My body is bruised, and I like it. Every time the hand strikes me I feel I have earned it - not in a bad way either. It reminds me I can be put in my place, and even though I have no control over my life - someone has total control over me. I can drop it all on someone else, I can blame someone else when it goes wrong. I don't need hell ( disorders, depression ) to give me control, when I can offer my body and emotions to something else.

I want to be controlled. To have controlled thoughts, and a controlled body.

{ Crossing that bridge with lessons I've learned,
Playing with fire, and not getting burned,
I may not know what you're going through,
But time is the space between me and you.
There is a light through that window,
Hold on, say yes. While people say no. }

I spent my birthday in the most beautiful haze.

It was lovely, it was all so lovely. I felt free for a night, it rarely happens - it was such a gift. To be able to be in the company of such wonderful people ( including the ever fantastic `twin` of mine, Lisa - and the company of some old friends. ) It was magical. To most.. I would assume an evening out at a club is nothing worthy of notation, but oh for me it is. A night to feel like a princess, to feel loved and welcomed and warm - it hardly happens.

I danced. I smiled. I drank. I bathed in it all - and thought that there was hope. If I can be free of the cages for one night, why not spend more days in happiness? I'm getting there. I feel it. I wouldn't be this honest with you dear journal if I wasn't close.

Life will try and bring me down more as I approach true joy, I smell trouble a brewing - but I'm expecting it. The wheels are -finally- changing, changing for the better and for my future.

PS. I will soon have the link to my studio up.

Life is beautiful.