untitled.

Nostalgia: Noun. A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past. The moral pain of the expatriate when he is overcome with the obsession of return.

Tonight my topic of choice is Nostalgia.  Surprise surprise. However, it almost seems like a topic left untouched, because it is untouchable.  How can one even begin to uncover and/or rediscover what could be considered the most popular emotion known to man.  Why is it we as people simply want to go back?
 This only proves that the human race has an utter thirst for happiness, fulfillment, succession. 
If you were to sit there, and follow the fad of saying you have no regrets, you don’t regret anything because it made you who you are.. BLAH BLAH BLAH.. i’d call you a fucking liar.
I often, and i mean often, find myself thinking about the past, and what a blast it was, and how I’d give anything to go back and do it all over again.  I think about the things I’d kill to do differently, I think about the feeling I wish I could feel again.  But when does it end, that feeling?  When will it be enough for us?
It’s almost been 21 years of living for me and already I’d kill for the 90’s to return.  You know when you’re around a person much much older than you, and you catch them looking at you.  What do you think they are thinking?  Well now I know the answer.  When I look at st. Lucy freshmen, or little girls in ballet skirts and leotards, i look at them, and see me.  I almost want to just stop them and tell them.  Tell them to hold on, tell them to let go.  And then i realize I am just like some 80 year old creeper ready to crack out a “back in my day”.
Anyways amidst all that, I think about why I want to go back, and only one thing pops into my mind.  It was the time I was most happy, when I felt the most fulfilled, when I was great at anything I did.  I was a kid. I felt invincible.  FEAR. no fear, none at all.  That’s the answer.  Ever notice that the times you wish to return to usually consist of you being fearless?
Well I say it’s bullshit.  Why do we let Fear take over? Do you see that even some of the times we wish to return to were only a few years ago? It’s horrible.  And every Socrates out there wants to tell me to stop dwelling so much on the past because you’ll miss the present and opportunity for the future.  But if we don’t kick this habit soon, it will never stop.
As one of my favorite people once told me “fear will ruin you.”  I have so many questions for this I can’t even comprehend.  And even though I realize I’ve already asked a million, here’s another.  What is behind Fear that holds us back?  We get to the future, look back, and think about what we wish we could re-do.. why didn’t we just do it right the first time?  Why didn’t we just take the leap and leave it all on the table, so that way, down the road, we wouldn’t find ourselves turning over our shoulders to look back so often.

I can honestly say, I have had one time in my life where I can recall leaving it all on the floor.  The stage, to be exact.  I wish we could do it in everything we pursue.  The old saying still holds true.  Do what you mean, and say how you feel.  I’ve come to find we are not to blame for this fear of holding our passion in.  Society over time has royally fucked us. ALL OVER.  It is no longer socially acceptable to cry.  The one thing that can truly release us.  It isn’t good  to be with the one you love if it means hurting someone Else’s feelings.  You know what I say.. of course you do.  Fuck everyone Else’s feelings.
For example.  Not using names, I cannot tell you how many times, one of my friends has held back because of other people.  Let’s call this one Johnny.  Johnny quit baseball his Junior year because Johnny’s psycho girlfriend told him the practices were cutting into her time.  Tommy stayed with his girlfriend for 4 years because he didn’t want to be the one to break her heart, even though he had stopped loving her 6 months in.  These two guys wasted their entire high school careers on drama because all they thought about was someone Else’s needs.
I refuse to ever be like them.  My biggest fear is losing my prime to fear itself.  Some think that I am a bitter girl with no real feelings and that I don’t open up to people.  Some don’t realize that I do what I do, because I do it for myself. No one else.  Why is it that this is also socially frowned upon.  I myself am usually called selfish.. or come off as too good for every one else. I wish I could say I’m sorry for this. But I’m not.  I am simply trying to avoid fear, take it head on and worry about myself.
I am just like everyone else.  I find myself listening to old playlists or looking at old pictures from better times.  Each and every regretful time from my past has one thing in common. Fear.  Each thing I regret never doing I never did because of fear.  I wish I could tell you that it will go away.  But it wont.  We’ll always remember setting high school football records, or having our first kiss. We’ll always want to go back and do it again.  And we try to accept that this is not possible.
So instead of leaving you with the satisfaction of knowing that it’s okay because I invented a secret time machine and I’ll be giving free rides to the year of your choice on the next full moon.  I’m going to leave you with this.  The only way to be rid of your nostalgic feelings and regret for the past, is to take any reason to have them.  Leave everything you ever do on the table, on the floor, on the field, on the stage.  Do it all, and do it big.  Do it bigger than big.  Do it to complete satisfaction and more.  Never ever hold inside what you feel.  Never ever make a decision based upon someone Else’s needs unless it will fulfill your own as well.  Never hold in who you are because you feel someone else won’t accept it.
And finally, please, please, never ever ever hide behind fear. because FEAR WILL RUIN YOU.

the other woman

WARNING:
the post you are about to read is highly personal, extremely controversial, and .. well you may just hate it. So, that being said, if you're some bitter ex girlfriend, you've ever been cheated on, take things the wrong way, or simply have some sort of beef with me. STOP READING NOW. cool...

"the other woman". used a lot when describing a girl who "devotes her entire life in being a homewrecker." Or "someone who whores herself around without morals." Having friends subject to this verbal abuse, and being a personal victim of it myself, makes a person really think. My hope with this is that maybe somewhere, some girl will read this, and understand what it feels like to be this other woman. Maybe they'll strongly disagree, and stick with their own opinions. But this is for a friend who gave everything she had, fell in way too deep, and was permanently scarred. This is for me. This is for you.
It isn't always fair to judge someone based on the fact that they sometime live their lives against your personal belief. Each one of us will never know what someone else is truly going through. So please, if you're interested, take this time to finally understand.


About a week ago, I received an anonymous question that didn't exactly hurt my feelings, but made me realize how clueless some people can be. The question asked me why I "insisted on pursuing boys that are off the market?" At first, it made me laugh. My first thought was "Do I really INsist?" Which leads me to my first point. Women who find themselves involved with unavailable men, DO NOT DO THIS ON PURPOSE. It just bewilders me that people out there believe that it is something of a personal goal to fall for someone who will never be with them. HA! right because, life would be too easy if they were available, we'd actually be happy for once if they were available, oh and we wouldn't be putting ourselves through sleepless tearful nights ALONE, if they WERE AVAILABLE. I mean come on how could we?!
Now, am I completely denying the fact that it is a tad bit wrong to try and break up a relationship. No. I am doing nothing of the sort. There are women out there who do devious, horrible things to get the man they want. But that is out of our control. I mean we could control them, by throwing them in the crazy bin or arresting them, or restraining them.. but what do you want me to do?
Anyways.
I guess the only way to hopefully help you understand, is to open my book, and let you in. Perhaps I'll save my story for another blog, when I have time to sit down for hours, and revisit the past. It will be hard for me to post, and keep an unbiased view with it all. I also don't wish to exploit anyone from my past. Please note now, that I do not blame anyone for what happened to me. I do sometimes only blame myself, but I try to remind myself that everyone plays a part, no matter how small, it counts.

I think something people need to understand is, we don't get ourselves into messes like that with the intention of hurting someone. We simply fall in like with someone, someone we see ourselves being happy with, someone we think could be the one. We never try to fall in like with a guy we know is taken, it'd be a waste of time. Sometimes, we fall for them before we even know it can never be. Most times, we fall for them, knowing they're unavailable, because WE FELL FOR THEM.
So to end this blog here for now:

Why DO we continue to "pursue" them?
Have you ever had that feeling, you know the one that tells you this may be your chance at happiness? What do you do? Do you let it go? Because you know it may be wrong? Or Do you take it, because it may be the only one you'll get? WHAT IF...
This can relate to any personal experience, not just the subject of this blog.

What are your thoughts?

junior project.

heres the preview:

PREFACE
This is my life. It starts with this girl, she appears to be me, but if you asked me who she was, I couldn’t even begin to tell you- make you understand who I am. When this girl looks in the mirror she sees someone who everyone else sees. She isn’t always happy. And wishes the world was different. But give me someone who doesn’t wish that. She is a writer, an artist, a singer, a performer, an activist, a lover, a woman, a sister, a daughter, and a friend. She is a girl, in this world who’s just trying to make it through.

CHAPTER ONE
There is a mirror in the room, in the middle, which stares blankly back at me. It sits alone with only one face to show, tall and wide upon a flat oak chest of drawers filled with many colorful pieces of cloth. I hate this mirror you see because this mirror is the mirror of lies. This mirror tells you who you are because with it what you see is what you get. It will tell me when I look ugly or fat. It tells me when I look unclean or when I don’t have enough make up on. It even tells me that no matter what I do, this is as good as it’s going to get. I hate this about my mirror. I hate that my mirror has the power to make me and tell me who I am. I am however just as blind as my magic reflector. This piece of glass is as deep as I am confident. What we are both too blind to see- the mirror and me- is that who I appear to be does not and will never make me who I really am.
As I stare into my reflection I study every tiny millimeter of my body and face. Not a single inch of fabric overlooked, not a follicle of hair out of place, not an eyelash of makeup undone. My mirror keeps a hold of me until it and I are sure that my bright blonde hair, green eyes, perfect fair complexion, and outfit for the day are perfect. While reaching for the door knob, I ask myself, am I ready? Those three little words seemed to flow through its daily cycle in my head every morning. If there was one thing I always had to be sure of, it was that I was ready to take on the world. Believe me; it was on every 18 year old college freshmen’s mind. Sure the circumstance is a little different for everyone, but for me, it was a thought imprinted in my brain ever since I was old enough to know how to apply mascara and shop for my own clothes. Leaving my mirror every morning gave me a false sense of who I was. Yes I left each day knowing I was Lauren Kaye, 18, and never going to get out of Colorado, but I was so much deeper than what an inch thick of heartless glass could see. Then as I left, I decided to forget it, the dirty liar of a mirror was right. It’s as good as its going to get, so I should walk out and forget it.
That’s just what I did. I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, pulling my sweater tighter against my stomach as I leaped and skipped a couple of steps. I was almost late for a class, and it was freezing! The cold stone flooring didn’t help either and as soon as I took one step onto it I almost screamed. Mary must have left without turning the heaters on. Mary was my house maid, even though she was more of a mom than anything. She stuck around for me after the accident and probably didn’t mind since I was left with enough money to keep her. I flipped the switches under the counter and couldn’t move until I was sure things had begun to warm up. I put some bread in the toaster and had started to reach for a coffee mug to make some hot cocoa when it caught my eye. A flash of red spluttered around in a sea of white outside the front window. I turned slowly, closing the cupboard back up as I walked to it. Passing through the kitchen and onto the green carpets I shuffled through the fancy country florals of furniture and stopped just an inch away from the window pane. There it was and I couldn’t believe it. Was I imagining this? It was impossible since the doctors said something like this could happen to me. There, in the midst of all chaos with the wind and snow twisting and blending together to make just another one of winter’s storms, was a red ribbon, just like the one my mother had given me the night- POP. Toast was done, and as I had jumped to see my breakfast, the bow had disappeared. Great, another bad dream of some sort, I thought. I had a lot of those recently and although I couldn’t figure out why, I brushed it off and ran back to my cocoa. I ate and drank my entire tiny meal and glanced at the clock, remember my class at the University, shoved the dishes in the sink and ran for the door. My Jacket was hanging by my boots and board, just as I had left them yesterday. Juggling everything at once I had finally made it out the door and ran to the front gate. Flinging it open with no concern to its possible damage, I threw my board down and strapped in.

a little thought on men... i suppose.

Ive discovered something about men, im sorry- boys- lately that I'm puzzled by, as well as invested in. I think its quite hilarious how simple and in the box your minds are. I mean, I think I'm a really nice person, I give everyone a chance, and smile at everyone. However, there comes a point where you, and this ALWAYS HAPPENS TO ME, you take it the wrong way. It's like you only think of women in two ways, they're either ugly and bitchy, or someone you hit on. I mean honestly, Ive been blessed with a gift of being able to see right through pretty much everyone, but come on, this is just too easy. so we're nice to you, say hello when you approach, laugh at your uninteresting jokes just so its not awkward, and yet, you think that means we want to date you. NOOOOOOO... This does not mean we are that interested. I mean yes, if you two click and there is something there, go for it! ask the girl to coffee!!! but please, if she keeps the conversations short, does not approach you, does not share moments with you, then you're just friends, and that's all you'll ever be. okay? so how do you know we're interested you ask? we're complex creatures, therefore I cannot tell you the exact answer, but I can tell you, there are such things as leagues, we can see right through you, and anyways the girls that cant, you dont want to date.. trust me.. unless you're just looking for.. than go for them instead please.. but back to subject. guys, lets try to think outside the box okay? Actually maybe you're thinking too far outside that box.. maybe it's a circle. but you know maybe, just maybe, maybe this whole concept is just shit. . so ill shut up now.