Monday, April 2, 2012

Foreign, fleeting ships with black flags

Noticing a lot of things.
Pretty much the people around me more than anything.
Pretty much... knowing you're alone.


It's not about love. The love people have given me, I've pushed to the side anyway.
Pushed it away, enough that I can pick at it, but using it to my advantage. Disregarding the emotions they've put into it. It's a selfish move. And I've made family cry.

But how could they understand me?
What I mean is, how can they expect me to feel what they want me to feel? After all, what I've become is a loner. And for the most part it's true. I was working at the mall this morning, and after seeing my co-workers all huddled together talking while I'm filling in clothes and ringing customers out, etc. they all laughed together, exchanged stories, and talked about just, 'things'. And there I stood just wondering what the hell I expected from people.

I love my co-workers. They're all really nice to me and we have fun. But what I saw and felt in that moment was something I could never obtain. That friendship. I wasn't meant to be in their conversation and I knew I had to stay my distance. But it hurt a lot. And I sucked it up the best I could and sang along to Sean Paul's "Hold My Hand" song when it came on. I knew better not to expect something amazing from working here a year now. And that's what I regretted.

I left myself open. I opened the doors to my life to these people instead of keeping them inside like I should have known better. Why should they need to know what makes me upset, the daily occurrences in my everyday life, funny stories. Why should I act like a completely different human being, someone who's fun to be with, always smiling and laughing, and being overly sarcastic for her own good? When yet that person is still me. I love being with most of the people there. I'm happy. And yet, that happiness can never last because I keep moving. And so I hurt myself. Time and time again. Because I don't close my personality, my life, and I laugh.

It hit me hard when she asked about my birthday party this Thursday. I told her I was the one hosting it, and she was surprised.
"Why don't your friends just have one for you? Why are you doing it yourself? That's not your job." ....or so something like that.
I was a little speechless at first. Because she was right. Why am I hosting my own party? If I had friends I would be surprised or they would have considered planning this out without my suggestion to do so. And I realized again.

I'm alone.
Still alone.
I consider most of the people I know as acquaintances. I too didn't know who is a friend or someone who is just in my life. And I've been living my life like this. The people I've wanted to stay in my life have disappeared or on their way of doing so. I've lost contact with someone I wanted to consider a friend and the only way I have a chance at getting them back is through a letter. Which I have yet to send....

I'm throwing this party as a way to hopefully remember the people I used to know. I want them to remember me even though I too will only be a fleeting memory. It's really sad, and I hate my traveling soul. I hate distancing myself from others to avoid getting hurt most of the time. I hate the way I am most of the time.

I left work hardly saying a word. I didn't want to cry after realizing I had nothing.
Then they called me saying they've never seen me like that before. And they were worried, that they don't like to see me sad. They asked if it was something they did; I denied it, promising them I just had something on my mind and it had nothing to do with them. But they worried.

And I acted unreasonably.




It doesn't change anything though. I'm just a traveler. No one will remember me in the future. The ones I knew in high school, the ones I've met in college, the ones who's heart strings I've tugged. I'm just an image in the end. Someone they used to know.

Being forgotten is....
but that's the only life I've lead.

Grab spotlight before it leaves you.
Ask for their attention.
But soon you won't mean anything at all, other than that girl who went away. Who did she really know?
That's right.... I don't know anyone's back story. I don't hang out with anyone either. Only when I'm interested in personal goals do I bother to stand out. I'm such a bitch, really.


I've decided to make a manga.
I drew one page of one I was going to start and started digitally coloring it in through 'Paint Tool SAI' from a good person who told me about it. But as I stood on the bus back home, repeat on a certain dubstep song,
I realized I need something different. More than just heartbreak. Uncertainty, unfamiliar surroundings, addiction, the introduction to new things and a darker society.
Maybe the journey to not only what love is, but the journey to where friendship and trust lies. And breaking habits.

I'll try my hardest. Because I really want to do this. It will be read like a Japanese manga from right to left and it will also be in Japanese. As part as a new hobby I need to begin, to regain a talent and a love I lost but dreamed of continuing, and to learn/practice Japanese



Today, I learned another mistake to learn from.

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