Mixed emotions. Just a lot going through my head. I had dark roast coffee this morning and then I had 2 latte’s a Mercer Island. I’m slowly winding down for bed. Boyfriend’s already knocked out. I out-did the gang today because of my caffeine in-take and because I got 10 hours of sleep… but, right now, I’m feeling lonely. I feel weird and I don’t know if it’s because I’m homesick. Seattle was once my home but now, it’s just this one, big, dark, lonely ass city. I don’t care if it was the Emerald city for me before. I don’t care if this is where the Seahawks are at, Bungie’s stationed, or Amazon is here. What do they have to do with me? To live here is to be a part of Seattle life, but what that really entails anything in relation to me when I’m broke as fuck? Nothing. Nothing. If I had an endless account of money, I might consider moving here, but I really fell in love with Portland, and even, just maybe the state. Seattle is a great city but puzzle pieces fit in their own crevices. And, my crevice isn’t Seattle. Not in this chapter. Not anymore. Now, everyone is sound asleep, tired from our game night of popcorn, drinks, yummy dinner and I’m the only one awake and it’s only 10:53 PM. 10 years ago, I would be in the bathroom, in my ex’s house putting on my last shuzz of lip-gloss to make sure my make up was PERFECT before we would head out to the club. Now, I turn in for bed at this time of the night and I am okay with it because I already got that shit out of my system. I’ve done it so many times. You go out, you go clubbing, then you get drunk, then you want some more, and then you get more drunk and just when you’re feeling sexy and getting into the groove of the best hip hop jam ever, they turn on the damn unflattering fluorescent lights and everybody’s looking haggard oh, except for me because my face is perfectly flawless and off we go to one of the opened Thai or Chinese restaurants open. It was so easy back then. If not that, it was a quick drive through to Jack-In-The-Box. Some deep fried onion rings, a big ass Raspberry Iced-Tea and guilt free coz we worked out everyday… and I was younger. Younger and stupider. It was easy. Then, sleep in the next day, and I would be ready to go again the next day. Now a days, it’ll take me a week to recover, and I am okay with that, too because I’m really over it. There are better things to do with my time. There are other things I’d like to spend my money and time… it’s called quality. I got my honey. I got experiences to live through and dancing it drunkenly around sweaty, belligerent people was my past. Plus, I had to get all dolled up. Now, we’re in bed cuddling and listening to music, giggling and full and satisfied and I got to know his sisters. He actually came in this morning and he asked me if I wanted breakfast. I told him that I needed to put make up on because I didn’t want her to see me without make up and he said, “It’s okay. You’re family now.” That was really sweet. I’m just very conscious about shit like that. We both didn’t have make up on, but still… I’m a perfectionist. I’ll try to take it down a notch but I want to make a good impression on his sisters. I really like them because they’re confident and real. They’re down to earth and smart. Like, SMART. They got their shit together… AND THEN SOME. They don’t gossip. They don’t talk shit. They tell it like it is and they include you in things. It was really intimidating at first, but she was really easy to talk to. We had similar thought processes… the only difference or similarities we had was that she is a Type A personality while mine would be… well, you already know. The bag of fucking nuts that I have. Sometimes, I wonder, if I didn’t have a bag of nuts, would I be also living in a really nice house like her, in a really nice neighborhood like her? Would I want the life that she has right now? No… would I change anything? I don’t know… no. Because if I did, then how would I find a voice for those who don’t have a voice…. I don’t know… I really don’t know…. I haven’t written or blogged in over a decade. I honestly can’t believe it has been a decade. I sincerely haven’t written in 10 years or so… and I’m just typing what I’m saying if I were to speak outloud. I have SO MUCH TO SAY… SO FUCKING MUCH… I don’t have paragraphs anymore.. punctuations out.. cuss words are in… nada. I haven’t read any books this year or the past few years. The last novel I’ve read was in 2013. Unquiet Mind. I had the best intentions of starting a blog back then, rhythm and rhymes but it was all about hallucinations, trying to be like Eminem but I’m so over it. Sigh.
When I first started this, I really wanted to make money off of this… but the book I’m reading specifically mentioned that if you’re only after making a profit out of blogging, you might as well just quit. And then there was another tip that said that if you want to be a writer, then start calling yourself a writer and publish your shit. Don’t say you want to be one, write a blog or a piece of work and don’t have the balls to publish it. So, I’m here. I don’t know if tumblr’s the best place to do it or word press. I don’t know… but it’s Day 3. I missed day 2 because I was exhausted. I didn’t even get to meditate last night either…
… so, yes, I’m going back to school. I’m going to blog because in my heart, I know I’m an artist. In my heart, I know I am a writer. A musician. A bag of nuts… is why I am so creative. The only reason why I am not where I am or expected is because I kept quitting. If I didn’t quit, I would have been at least HALF to where his sister is. *shakes head* So, I already have a new year’s resolution… Quit. I quit… quitting. I am never going to quit blogging. I will never quit meditating. I will never quit pursuing my art’s degree. I will never quit… ever again. And if I do, I’ll will quit for a moment, and then, like what Stallone said,.. get right back up. I quit. I quit quitting.
Rise. Rise from within.
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