This is my Mind Palace

The End

Thu, 16 Aug 2012 23:54:44 -0700

I suppose some would say that this is an opportunity to reinvent myself or to start fresh. To become a new person; the person that I’ve always wanted to be. The outgoing, social fellow at parties. The one people actually invite places. A whole new me.

But at the same time I want to preserve myself. I don’t want a single thing to change.

When we first started out, she told me that she had a tendency to be self destructive; to run away from good things in her life. I like to think that I was a good thing. And part of my brain is screaming at me, telling me that this is what she was talking about. She asked what I would do in such a situation and I told her one simple thing: wait.

But now I am conflicted. The day that she broke it off she made me promise her that I would try to move on. How do I keep two promises that contradict one another?

I need to make a decision. Which promise I will keep. I can tell you now, I’ve already made that decision. I just hope it’s the right one.

I Wanted to Write

Wed, 11 Jul 2012 11:59:48 -0700

I wanted to write about my life right now. About my situation with my girlfriend and the problems that I’ve caused. I wanted to write about how the only thing I seem to be capable of doing lately is hurting people. I wanted to write about how I ruined myself. About how I pretty much became the one thing I promised myself I wouldn’t become.

I keep breaking promises.
~~I promise not to hurt you.~~
~~I promise I would never do anything like that.~~
~~I promise I won’t hurt myself.~~
~~I promise you’ll never have to worry about something like this.~~
~~I promise you can trust me.~~

What promise haven’t I broken yet? I wanted to write about how terrible I feel. I wanted to write about how I don’t deserve her; how I don’t deserve anyone. About how she doesn’t deserve the kind of pain I put her through.

But I can’t write about that. Why would I? I’ve shattered every bit of trust she had for me. Even if she did read this, why would she believe me?

I know what’s going to happen with us. I know how this ends. And I’m sorry.

Just Think About Sports

Wed, 20 Jun 2012 22:11:42 -0700

One of the worst things about being a guy is the fact that it’s no mystery when we’re aroused. Obviously, it is possible to conceal this issue when it arrises sometimes, but other times there’s no hope.

The only thing worse than being unable to hide it when you’re actually aroused, is when it’s a surprise visit for no reason. On the last day of school a couple years ago, I went to hug one of my friends. Now, I had a crush on this friend for a while, but I realized that we would just be friends, which I was totally cool with. But I went to hug her and my companion popped in for a visit and was just like HEY MAN HOW’S IT GOIN, MIND IF I CHILL HERE FOR A BIT? THANKS BRO! And of course she noticed. You can imagine how incredibly embarrassed I was (and still am sometimes).

I’m not saying that guys have it harder than girls. Well… I guess in a sense I am.

I’m not saying that girls have it easier than guys, because in all honesty they don’t. All I’m saying is that it’s rather inconvenient when your mother walks in your room and asks you to do something but you can’t get up quite yet and you get in trouble. I wonder if science will ever remedy this ever rising problem.

A lot of times I just feel like a blob fish.

Mon, 04 Jun 2012 21:36:49 -0700

Hungry

Tue, 08 May 2012 19:39:29 -0700

When I get hungry, if I don’t eat within a certain amount of time from when the hunger starts, I won’t eat until the next hunger time interval.

When I was in middle school, I wasn’t exactly what one might call thin. I was a chubby little preteen. I would look around at all the other kids in the locker room and they had the bodies of 12 year old demigods. I wanted to be like that. I wanted to be thin. I wanted people to stop poking my stomach and giggling like the Pillsbury Doughboy. So I stopped eating. I didn’t eat breakfast, I didn’t eat lunch, and I ate the bare minimum at dinner because that was the only meal that was supervised by my parents.

It sucked at first. I hated it. But I wanted to not be fat anymore. So I kept starving myself. I would still drink liquids to give me energy throughout the day, but I only ate one meal. Looking back, I’m actually glad that they made me eat dinner. Because you see, while I hated it in the beginning, I had grown to like not eating. I had grown fond of that tight feeling of hunger I would get in my stomach.

To this day I still love that feeling. I’ve managed to force myself to eat more, but I still let myself get away with not eating every once in a while. It’s become far less frequent, but the only problem is that when it does happen, I let it go for far longer than I should.

I let myself get to the point where I’m shaking and I have no energy to move. I get light headed and I have heat flashes. I won’t even drink anything.

Maybe I’m masochistic. Maybe I have an eating disorder. I don’t know. I’m in no position to diagnose myself. This isn’t something that I do to myself. It just sort of… happens.

Normally (I like to think), my posts have some sort of deepness to their conclusion. Normally these progress into something else. But not this time. No, this time the beginning is the same as the end; I’m hungry, and that’s not going to change any time soon.

Motivation: 0%

Mon, 16 Apr 2012 21:58:21 -0700

Earlier today I started writing a post about the friend zone. It was going pretty well until something hit me. It was like a massive wave that made me unbelievable lethargic. I was completely unmotivated to finish, or do anything for that matter.

This happens to me quite a lot, I find. The problem isn’t exactly the lack of motivation but rather what’s causing it. And my problem, of course, is I never know what causes it. I’m left sulking in a pile of myself trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with me. Am I a lazy person? Did I just stop caring? Is it some sort of medical problem? Or is it just me being a teenager?

In addition to not caring about anything and wanting to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week, I start to ask the question, “What’s the point?” What’s the point of my blog? What’s the point in trying in school and work? What’s the point of my relationship? What’s the point of living? I’m able to answer my questions almost instantly, except the last (and the first but that’s not really an important question).

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m not suicidal anymore. I just no longer see what significance my life holds in the future. Maybe I should go back to my therapist.

My Never-ending Ailment

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 18:14:35 -0700

I think at this point it’s become pretty obvious that I have low self esteem. Don’t look good enough, not outspoken, not manly enough; that sort of thing. I also have no talents. I can’t sing, dance, play a sport, play an instrument, or write (if you think differently, message me and I’ll send you the phone number to the nearest mental hospital).

I have come to terms with most of these truths. I don’t mind much that I can’t sing, dance, play sports or instruments. My girlfriend does a good job of reminding me that she thinks I’m attractive. The one that I have not come to terms with though, is my inability to write the way that I want to.

My problem, my never-ending ailment, is that I’m completely unable to articulate my thoughts into words. My mind works the way poetry is written. When I see something, my mind unconsciously begins making comparisons; metaphors and similes and imagery to what it is I’m seeing or feeling. I have no idea if that’s how it is for other people, but I can only assume it is for poets and writers. They have found a way to take those comparisons and twist them into words and write them down.

My eternal struggle is taking what I have in my mind and weaving it into the words that accurately represent what’s going on in my thoughts. This is what keeps me from progressing.

Last night I read a speech that my girlfriend wrote and I was completely awestruck. She was able to take these magnificent words and string them together so beautifully just for a speech. I’m not even going to mention her poetry.

She tries to tell me that I’m a good writer, but I wince at the word. I’m not writer. I’m a naïve teenage boy who has trouble giving life to what he sees in his mind. I’d like to one day be a writer. An author or a poet or even a journalist, but for now, I’m just a blogger with a passion for something he’s not very good at.

I never intended to reblog anything on this blog, but this just...

Fri, 13 Apr 2012 17:57:12 -0700

I never intended to reblog anything on this blog, but this just pissed me off and is way too relevant.

Self Loathing

Thu, 12 Apr 2012 19:07:00 -0700

I often see girls on tumblr complaining and being sad because they think they will never look like the “attractive” girls they see on tumblr. They complain about not being skinny or being flat or being ugly when in fact, most of them could probably get as many notes on a picture as one of these “tumblr beauties”.

Then there are other girls who spend so much time and effort trying to make people feel better by saying things like “All girls are beautiful!”.

This got me thinking and I realized that I have never in my life seen a post on tumblr saying that all guys are handsome. In all the vast regions of the internet that I have explored, I have never found anything of this nature.

I have a theory as to why that is. In today’s world, it has become custom to promote the idea that all women are beautiful. I don’t disagree with this idea. I think that all women have something that makes them gorgeous.

Society doesn’t say these things about men because of one thing; society doesn’t think it’s true for men. I don’t think society will ever believe that all men are “beautiful”.

I spend a lot of time on tumblr. I see countless images of attractive men every day. It has the same effect on me that pictures of girls have on women. I look at those pictures of the skinny guys with the six packs and the tattoos and I think to myself, this is what society has deemed attractive. It’s not me. It doesn’t look anything like me.

So what does that say about me? I look at those pictures and I see what I will never be. Tumblr has ruined the image I had of myself. I don’t have tattoos, I don’t have piercings, I don’t have a six pack, I’m not particularly skinny, and I’m just not good looking enough.

I constantly see posts of girls who don’t think they’re pretty with thousands of notes and hundreds of comments saying reblog if you think she’s beautiful. That’s great for that girl. Really, good for her. I’m glad that she has so many people telling her that she’s beautiful regardless of what she thinks. But while that’s going on, I’m sitting here at my desk looking over into a mirror saying to myself, if all girls can be pretty, why can’t I be handsome?

My Goal

Tue, 27 Mar 2012 22:07:54 -0700

I’ve talked to many writers. Authors, poets, journalists. I always ask them one question: What advice can you give me on how to become a better writer? And the answer is always the same. Write every day.

I’ve tried multiple times to have a journal. I went out and bought a special notebook and nice pens and pencils and put them at the side of my bed. I told myself that every night I would write down just whatever I did that day. That lasted a grand total of about two nights every time I tried it. ~~Same thing with my exercising before bed.~~

I’ve disappointed myself countless times. I want to be a great writer some day. I know that the only way to get there is to keep writing, but I just have no discipline. I was talking with my girlfriend earlier about some spoken word poetry that I watched today. I made her watch the video and after we both agreed that it was a great poem, I said that one day I will write good stories and poetry and what have you. “You write good things now”, was her response, and it got me thinking.

Now obviously there’s a bias in her opinion of my writing. It made me wonder whether what I write actually is good, or if it’s just ok. I don’t think I’m a bad writer, but I know I could be better and that’s what I’m going to try to do; become better.

My goal through this blog is to try and write something every day in order to enhance my writing skills.

~~I have no idea why I’m talking like someone is going to read this.~~

I think I’m going to enjoy this.

Disneyland

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 22:45:33 -0700

Yesterday I had the privilege of meeting a bunch of my girlfriend’s friends. And at Disneyland no less. In the days prior I was so incredibly nervous (you can ask her; she’ll tell you). I had all these scenarios playing in my head of how everything could go wrong. I was worried that none of them would like me or that my level of awkward would be so unbearably high. You know, the usual stuff that I worry about when it comes to human-to-human contact.

But when I stepped off the escalator, I was greeted by a long awaited (and quite wonderful) hug from my beloved. She then ~~dragged me~~ ran with me to meet her friends. I would describe their reaction to my being there as “HOLY CRAP HE’S REAL!” mixed with what seemed to be genuine excitement, which completely eliminated my nerves.

I was introduced to almost everyone about three times throughout the day, which was a good thing since I’m terrible with names. I had met a few of them over skype once. I was completely convince that one of my girlfriends good friends hated me. Not just a normal dislike, but like there was a special hatred for me. I’m glad to say that I was completely wrong.

I could go on about each one of her friends that I got to talk to, but to save time and to keep from repeating myself, they were all great. I enjoyed spending the day with them and my girlfriend immensely and I look forward to seeing them again.

The next time I get to see my darling will be near the end of April for prom. 34 days. I can’t wait.

First!

Fri, 23 Mar 2012 17:19:00 -0700

The first post is always the most painful and awkward. It’s like the first step you take when you get out of bed in the morning; you really don’t want to do it but you know you need to eventually.

So here it is. My first steps out of the cave and into the sunlight. An entire world of blogging opportunity awaits. Let’s hope I’m not getting myself in over my head with this one.