holiday world

today i embark on an adventure to the family themed land of water filled wholesome christmas fun that is holiday word. because my life is one occurrence of joy followed by the next, i started my period. i decided that there is a god, and he has a sense of humor. there can be no other explanation.

i'm off to holiday world, exitement ensues.

1:21

i am currently ingesting diet coke and raspberries, when darkness falls, i eat like a famished hog. not appealing. it's ok anais, your only diving four hours to indiana to visit a jolly Christmas filled theme park. holiday world, here i come! don't worry, i'm sure those four hours sitting on your ass, will help you not look like a fat ass when you strap on the bikini and bear all for the the children filled with holiday cheer in august. you can blend right in with santa as you throw in a beard.

the truth is, i'm not fat. but i'm not thin. because nobody reads this blog, i am unashamed to admit that i had an eating disorder that i still struggle with, and only really got under control two weeks ago. i was bulimic. aren't bulimic people supposed to be thin? like being anorexic, but easier? yeah, i thought so too, obviously not.


i was about to start this parograph with "subject change" but that would be rather redundant, if i did have readers, they would be alerted of the obvious subject change, by the new subject.

i learned something that perhaps made a grow a bit as a person tonight from my best friend. he has it tougher than i do, and is a better person than i could hope to be, and i am alright with that, because personally, i prefer being a little evil. basically, don't fall for attention.

i also came to realize something on my own, but it is tragically too late, and it's to not be so uptight all the time, and let him lick your face. stop being stuck up. i think it's time i turned to youtube with my rambling.
save that for another day, when i have makeup on.

I Loved.

so guess who has more menstrual inspired writing to do?
you caught me, good job.

i was thinking about marriage actually, and the irrational appeal it has to women. how many men are actually faithful from alter to tombstone? when a women is entering into a marriage, she is in fact, putting herself into a situation to be cheated on. you normally get a few lovestruck years, where sleeping with one person for the rest of his life seems feasible, but that internal clock is ticking and you know it ladies. you need to pop out a kid, and now! forget it. as soon as he sees those stretch marks he will follow his pecker to greener pastures, leaving you with stretch marks and a fat ass, to eat ice cream, and putting you in a position to forgive and forget, and stay together for the kids.

i go back to my earlier writing in saying that the only guy who will stay faithful, are the ugly ones, but they have to be not only ugly, but must earn a reasonably low income. besides just being unpleasant to the eyes, ugly, under-payed, men are most likely, not good in bed, leaving them to follow their pecker right to their fat ass wife, because the greener pastures are full of attractive men.

even men who love their wives can be led astray. at first i was against the notion of having children of my own, but now i suppose i am against marriage as well. i suppose living alone may be just as bad as living with a liability. how can i know the risk is worth it. you put so much into something, for what? to end up where you started, broken and alone, and worse, in a legal battle for the house, and the dog, and the sofa.

people compare love to plants sometimes, but love is no form of shrubbery. plants can't hurt you back. they just die if left alone. and sometimes, even when love is left alone to die, it carries on, unlike plants.

what has become of me? sitting here writing depressing notions about the ways of love and marriage? i loved.

Wake.

today at the wake i: 

discovered just how little i knew of my family.

judged girls on what they were wearing. (it's a funeral home, not the mall girls.)

attempted and failed to converse with a three year old relative of some sort. 

was the focus of a rescue attempt from a horridly boring conversation leading to nowhere.

focused some well masked irrational aggressive feelings towards my second cousin for not feigning some sort of interest in me. 

considered making a secret get away.

saw the dead body of my great uncle don. 

held my father's hand to keep him strong. 

when i saw the body, i was mildly alarmed that it would jump up any second and open it's eyes.  they cleaned him up a bit too nicely, people don't remember him as the well groomed man in that coffin, they know him as the red faced man with jack daniels. but that's what death is, taking the life out of things, and leaving a hollow shell that housed them. 

Detroit

i can only ever hope that someone is actually reading this, and that someone is actually impacted by my words.

a man my father and others knew and loved passed away a few days ago, so it was time for my father and i to make an impromptu trip to detroit for the funeral. i know you are thinking that no respectable grandparents would live in the city of Detroit, and you would be quite right, because mine live outside of Detroit in a place called Fernadale. when driving through
Detroit to get to Ferndale i saw a city diminished. all the signs of a thriving metropolis area were once there, now replaced with decay. i saw women with no hope in their eyes crossing the street. chipped paint and broken windows describe the diminished dreams of the people still living in the bad side of this broken city.

today i am going shopping, and out for polish food. weight gain on this trip in imminent.

i sat with my grandparents today over coffee and was struck by what they once were, before i even knew them. my grandfather has a tattoo of a Hawaiian girl in a bikini on his forearm. it was once a nude Hawaiian girl, but he had a bikini drawn in before his mother saw. it frightens me to know that one day this is my fate as well. nearing the end with youthful memories to look back upon. i suppose i should focus on making the memories and documenting them for the time being, hence blogging.

if there is someone out in the vast expanses of the internet who is actually reading my blog, please comment or subscribe or the like. i put my heart into what i write, and i actually write it under the notion that there is a living breathing human who considers this blog a good source of literature. i can settle for decent.

Baby

i am so filled with sorrow at this very moment.
now, when my love, my actual love,
is coming for me.

he does love me.
he may be the only one.
he is the only one.

not the only one for me.
but the only one of them that loves me.

the only one i call baby.

i hate you for not being everything i need, and not being irrationally in love with me. and not being able to make me love myself, and not being able to fill this void inside me.

i hate you for leaving me, and turning me into some needy little bitch. and for being a temporary satisfaction that leaves me yearning for more, and looking for it in other places. i hate you for always knowing that you are better than me because you are older, and better at math, and naturally more observant, and you have a job, you even think you are better at sex. i hate you for making me think that you were all i needed, so that i gave up myself, for this wispy, needy, mysterious, scheming, woman i am now.

i hate myself for not loving myself. i throw up again and again thinking that i can flush my emptiness down the toilet.

Stability?

give me something stable. i have been rocking around in a sea of men, hoping to fill my needs. stop. stop the boat. let me be. how can i ever be truly happy, when my happiness depends on this sea of men? these men can not make me truly happy.

Square One

Enough. When will there be enough to fill myself? One man, then two, three. A one night stand? Two? My secrets hang like webs, one is just an ex, one is my love interest, who this fuck is this guy? A date. He may blow everything. My longing for more is soon going to prove to be a self destructive habit. One wrong lie, and my cover is blown. And then what? Then i go back to zero.
Square one, time to rebuild.

killing the only one

i wrote this song a few weeks ago. three weeks ago actually.
my feelings are not not exactly the same now, but here it is.


last night left me raw, cold, and alone.
this morning, found me scared, bruised, and alone.

i'm killing the only one
-repeat 3-
who gives a damn
-repeat-
about me

i'm wearing his bracelet to try to cancel out,
my slashing tendencies and my running mouth,
feeble excuses, lies beyond compare,
i know you can see,
but i still need you here.

-chorus-

what am i doing
i'm slashing the life from ym baby,
the one one who never let go of me.
the one i call at night when i can't sleep,
the only one i want inside of me.

-chorus-

push away pull back,
i love you, i hate you,
you think your so much better,
older smarter, your not fucking better than me.
you love me, always come for me, never leave me,
you never leave me.
you wouldn't leave me cold or bruised or alone,
in a bed that is not my own.



perhaps i did kill the only one. there is no "one" anymore. there is only me to give a damn about myself.

hello blogspot. it's been a while. so long that i forgot my password.
i made a new one for your benefit. benefit is an awesome makeup brand.

i basically did a 360 from the girl i used to be (the one with all the depressing blogs)
i can still write emotional things, in less of a "i want to slit my wrists" manner.
please keep that in mind.

here is my cat. he drinks from my cups.