Dreadful Nights

You know what I absolutely hate? I hate closing my eyes at night, completely prepared to sleep: body clean and motionless, but mind, a chaotic mess, restless and all over the place. Ideas, concepts and reflections race through my head. A million scenarios play repeatedly, some of scenes of reality, some tasks I need to complete either through writing/painting, and some just of strong emotions I can't fully grasp onto when I'm awake. Passion, desire, pain, and sweet blissfulness flood simultaneously, filling my small head with an ocean of murky feelings, like a mixture of color swirling in water, slowly clouding and forming an indescribable hue. Oh how I dread nights like this.

Aching in My Soul

I'm not sure where this feeling is coming from. It just aches terribly. It's heavy, dark, musing and evolving into something bigger, eating me inside out. It's a sort of nostalgic feeling mixed with loneliness, remorse, and hurt. I'm just looking back onto myself, looking at other people and seeing my memories play back in my head. Seeing what I could have done. Should be doing. Want to do. I want it all. I want to be better. I want to be good enough.

I'll elaborate when finals are over. Good night...if I can sleep tonight.

What Do I Want? -edit later

Today is my second full day back at school. I thought I was excited coming back to school. But after sitting and listening to the teachers lecture on and on about nonsense, I realize I actually dread coming back. Maybe I had too high of an expectation; I thought school would motivate me to strive harder and feed me complex ideas to chew on. Or maybe it's just absence making the heart grow fonder...

I don't know what I want. I just don't want school. I don't feel like I am learning anything anymore. I don't feel excitement when I hear the bell rings due to the pursue of learning but rather, the excitement of leaving this horrid place.

Actually, I find all of this to be kind of repulsive. I'm walking down the hallways and all I hear is just the murmur of pointless conversation and forced smiles exchanged at every corner. It's tiresome, exhausting, grotesque. I used to play that role in society, feigning and wearing a mask, making small, loose connections with people that don't truly care for me and me for them.
But I no longer care to socialize and I'm bored with the people around me. I just want to be isolated and think alone. I just want to read and paint and listen to good music. I just want immerse myself and become better, but somehow it feels like I'm doing this alone. Most of the peers that I talk to on a daily basis aren't striving to better themselves as a person; they are only striving to find a "successful life": money, fame, and game. Just thirsting for fleeting pleasures like parties, casual sex, and material items. Appearances, clothing, silly high school games we all play.

And maybe all this boredom is my fault. Maybe a letter grade does truly matter and show great importance and is significant to our education. Maybe people do learn and I am just ignorant and pretentious. 

Doesn't success start from within? No one can pursue it. Ever. You can never chase after it; it's like chasing your own shadow. To find success, we all have to search from within ourselves: muse over previous actions, self-reflect. Instead of chasing it, sit with your shadow and attempt to understand it. To conquer it. 

I want to become better as person, as a whole. I want to truly understand my weaknesses and minimize them. I want to be better. I want to be more. I want more of this life. I don't want to seat here idle and watch the hands of the clock tick by.

Maybe once I get out of high school, I wouldn't feel as much ennui with the daily routine as I do now. Also, it's probably from the harsh winter cold that seems to not only confine me physically, but also limit my ability to better myself. All I want to do is just stay home away from people. God, if I can just sit in solitude for the next few months, that would be a beauty.

Monster

I'm sitting here thinking if I should tell Noah or explain to Andrew or if I should cry some more and call someone so I feel better. But I'm just going to get pity points, trying to get Noah to feel sorry for me and he's just going to say "No, Olivia you're not a bad person" and then I can continue lying to myself that I'm sweet and innocence. I can't do that. To him and to me. I'm a shitty evil narcissist and i just have to accept that. People play good and bad roles in life and I turned out to be the antagonist in society. No matter how I've fought it in the past, I just end up hurting people.
I want to call Andrew and tell him how I feel but what good will that do? At best, it'll just relieve me from all this self loath and guilt but again, I'll be lying to myself. And even if he DOES manage to forgive me again, we're going to break our friendship sooner or later; it's always been like that. It just won't work out. And if not, anything I say won't matter to him. He probably won't believe a word I'm saying. The more I try to clarify, the more I'm actually hiding. And he did clearly state: "this is why I never wanted to talk to you again. You're lying and manipulative, and I don't have that in my life. Please, just go away". If I'm causing him so much pain. I should just let him go.
And you know what? I just want the world to love me. That's what fucking wrong with me. I can't accept when people have something negative to say about me or when they hate me. I take things personally. Maybe at the core, I'm just conceited and egocentric. I want the damn world to revolve around me. Shut the fuck up, Olivia. Not everything is about you. No one cares about you, Olivia, you're a terrible person and these are just things you'll have to accept and deal with.because you'll never change. You're a monster, Olivia.

No words to describe this shitty feeling

Today was probably the shittest day I've had in a while. It started out as the happiest day. Everything was going pretty great. I went to therapy and then N and I ended up going on a "date". Do I like him? Honestly, maybe just a little. I just really want to like someone honestly. It's been so long since I've opened myself completely to someone and let them into my life. I want to trust someone whole heartedly and be fragile, vulnerable and don't mind it at all. I just want to be in love again. And so once I found even the slightest opportunity of someone liking me and me feeling even just a little back, I want to try.
But tomorrow is my moms birthday and my family ended up suddenly changing plans and celebrating tonight while I'm just being a selfish daughter and using her money that she transferred onto my card to eat dinner and watch a movie with a guy. I am superficial. I am a hypocrite. I constantly try to aim for (or so I say) modesty and material-less lifestyle but you know why? That's fucking bullshit. I'm just a selfish fucking bitch.
I have no consideration for my family and take them for granted. I constantly self loath and self pity but I never change anything. I try and try but no real change. Because I'm fucking spoiled. Im a spoiled narcissist brat that knows nothing but the word "me". I place myself first and nothing else.
I thought telling Andrew the truth was the right thing to do. I was feeling so guilty about my mom and her birthday that when Andrew asked where I've been, I told him everything. It ended up in him sending bitter and hateful texts to me. And you know what? I think he's fucking right.
I couldn't stop crying when I read his texts and I haven't cried so hard in so long. I got home with everyone asleep and I screamed into my pillow as silently as possible.
He's right. I'm manipulative and he's not the first person to say that to me. I get people to pity me, to think I'm "cute, beautiful, deep, insightful, and pathetic" so they would want to comfort and hold me. I am actually nothing. I'm shallow and insincere. I've tried so hard to be as genuine as possible but that's probably because I just want people to like me. I just put people down to feel good about myself. I am disgusting. Manipulative.
I just lead guys on and then use them an suck them dry. I am filthy. Selfish bitch.
A part of me is still trying to argue that I didn't do it on purpose. But did I really? I knew there were social boundaries but I invaded it, knowing so. I knew I shouldn't have hung out with one person so much and I did. I trusted Andrew with everything. I can honestly say I would tell him everything and wanted to do everything with him. People made fun of him. For being weird or creepy or ugly. But you know what? He was my friend and I defended him. In front of everybody that said that. I enjoyed his company. I shared everything with him. But it turned out to be a bad thing because I did not have romantic feelings for him. And in society, it's an unspoken rule that if you don't want to date someone you can't be intimate friends. I don't understand. That's just who I am. I am an over-affectionate person. When I like a person, I instantly feel okay to tell them everything, my deepest darkest secrets and completely invest everything into them. I've always been this way and I always thought it was a good thing to show that you care about each person as much as you can. For every friendship I have I try to tell everything I've ever felt and dealt with. I open up completely and expect them to do the same because I did. I just trust people easily. I don't how to change. And I know now that it is a flaw and it doesn't work like that in this society. People take it the wrong way. Everytime I'm scare, I run away. That's what I do. And so I run away from Andrew now and I don't want to talk to Noah anymore because I don't want him to become Andrew #2.
I should stop socializing. I just have to avoid civilization. I'm a fucking psychopath. Andrews right.
I was really close in killing myself earlier even when I called my best and childhood friend, Mia for help. She ended up just praising me and telling I'm not a monster, not a psychopath. But I am and she just doesn't know it. I shouldn't continue living. I just end up hurting people. I should just end my life. End it once and for all so no one will be able to talk to me ever again. That'll be fucking good...

But I cant tonight. Or tomorrow. Since its too close to my moms birthday. It'll be absolutely unbearable for her if she had to remember me dying on her birthday every year.

Maybe Sunday...or maybe I'll feel better by then.

College Apps

There's actually lot more of things to talk about that's happening in my life currently, but I've been procrastinating my essays to such an extreme that I only have about 24 hours to finish 5 applications...

I don't know why, but my muscles tense up and I instantly get a writer's block when I write mandatory essays. But when I blog, words just pour out of me. It's probably because I hate writing/talking formally...or with structure. Sigh.

To write my essays now, I have to pretend I'm writing a blog instead, so it eases my nerves, but it doesn't work completely.

Update: Zombie Days, Weary Nights

I have so much to say but never found time to write entries in between my sleepless, bed turns at night, zombie-walking in the morning and rushing to do college essays, homework and paint during the day. I've done a lot, physically and mentally grew a lot. I wrote short bullet point drafts so I won't forget and hopefully can come back to the memories with the same vivid passion and enthusiasm as a few days ago.

Anyways, what is CURRENTLY happening is how crazy I'm feeling. It's insomnia again and I can't get any available medication that would help. The past three nights I've only had 2 hours of sleep. I came home today to try to sleep right away but was only able to just close my eyes for an hour...I know I didn't sleep because I would check the time every 10-15 minutes.

It's been 2 hours since I've been in bed trying to sleep now. I've counted sheep, stars, problems, tasks, worries, and the hours available for sleep left. I've drank warm milk, paced around my room, listened to music, painted, read until my eyes ached. And? Nothing. Still nothing but blank weary stares at my ceiling.

What's troubling me? It seems like everything. I wrote a list but I keep getting up to add more to it as I try to sleep.

I can't even cry anymore. It's been so long since I've let more than one drop of salt water leave my eye.

I fucking swear if I have to scream into my pillow one more time this week I will kill myself.
Well, I won't really...but I would really like to escape this living hell.
Rheekfieieowhdjeiwjqjwi ahhhhhggghhhhhhg

Infatuated

If he can only be mine. Maybe even for one day. God...I fucking love Matt.

Stomach Tornadoes

A habit of mine is labeling certain feelings with descriptive, unusual metaphors. I usually do this when I'm naming my music playlists. And lately, a certain feeling would constantly reoccur. Stomach Tornadoes. Now, this has nothing to do with me physically; I don't have a stomach virus or stomachache or need to use the washroom. It's when I consistently think of someone and he/she is not there physically or emotionally anymore, but I crave and want and desire to see/talk to him/her. It's like you're hungry and you have images of freshly grilled burgers, hot tomato soup, and oven baked pies on your mind all day. Your stomach seems to flip over and over, rumble and grumble, until it feels like a stomach tornado. And that's exactly what happens to me, but emotionally...and in my head.
I've been missing someone, a friend in particular. I've been missing A. Recently, (as I might have previously mentioned in my other posts...or might not have, I don't really remember) I've decided to discontinue being friends with him simply because it hurts us both. For him, it's because he likes me and cannot stand simply just being friends without being able to do "date"-like things, mostly simple physical things that would claim me "his", such as kissing, hugging, cuddling, etc. I do not want to do those things and I have too much respect for him to do it out of pity or guilt. However, I feel terrible for seeing this agony happen to him every time we hang out. And so, alas, it has ended, like all the other friendships has always ended, in a very, unfortunate way.

Maybe someday we will talk again...
---
He sent me a very fitting song to celebrate the New Years; I cried.
(I cannot find exact one on youtube, but this is the closest to it. Only difference is the speed, which makes this a lot more merrier and in-spirit sounding than the one he sent me.)

Insomnia part. 2 - Freeing the Hamster

It's 3 in the morning. Since I can't sleep, I thought I might as well got up from tossing and turning. I like writing. I've actually always loved it. But at some point, I realized what a terrible writer I am. Maybe that's why I prefer blogging/journaling; it can be more expressive, more "me", more grammatical errors and spelling mistakes (haha). It's like I'm letting my thoughts run wild and free once I place them into words, into tangible black ink on white pages. The thoughts are given a pair of marathon-running legs across a blooming prairie on a bright, sunny day. The thoughts are screaming "FREEDOM". The thoughts are loose. The thoughts are out of the hamster wheel, which turns and turns and turns and turns repeatedly in my head as I over-think scenarios, replay conversations, reflect upon actions, and muse over feelings. 

I started painting again, the first time in 3 weeks. I don't know why I stopped. It's such a magnificent feeling. A magical feelings that seems to stop time in in its tracks, a feeling in which one feels like he's on the tip of his toes to lick the nectar off a giant flower. It simply is wonderful. Quite bliss indeed. I guess that feeling would always disappear as soon as I think I'm going to use my paintings as art supplements for my college apps. 

As much as I enjoy painting, I don't have much faith or confidence that others would enjoy the product of my enjoyment; I never had true art lessons. As a self-taught painter, I know that my techniques are shabby and my knowledge on art history and art terms are limited. I'm scared of being judged, so I rather keep my paintings in the dark than to meet the light and the eyes of a critic. 

So, you might ask why I continue using them as an art supplement. That's a good question. Well, my gpa is far too low (due to my continuous absents, tardies, and late/missing assignments) and I only took the ACT once with a very average, humble score. The only thing that might save me would be my paintings. It's ironic, because they kill me in the process. 

I have a friend that once quoted someone (...of whom I don't remember, but that's irrelevant) :"Find something you love and let it kill you". I've been thinking about it daily ever since he said that to me. And you know what? It's been killing me. Every single thing I love. It has all been stabbing me. So. Hard... And I sort of enjoy it.

Insomnia

I ran out of the blue pills that ease my tensions. That stop the headaches of despondency. That put me to sleep. I want to sleep forever.

There is no such thing is forever. At least I don't believe in it. Everything is fleeting. Humans lie to themselves saying things are vast and continuous. This gives us hope. Infinity is hope.

I don't know where I'm going with this. I need to sleep.

It feels like I'm always sleeping, but it feels like I'm never sleeping.