Forever exhausted

I find that I’m in a perpetual state of exhaustion. Either I’m battling a four hour night of sleep kind of thing, or I’m battling the twelve hour make up sleep night exhaustion. They are two very different feelings, with somewhat same results: I don’t get anything productive done.

Got my first rejection today for a job. The voice on my left shoulder says it’s time to pack up and get back in bed. He’s always been a big downer though, and my right shoulder voice never tires of nagging him and bossing him around. I suppose I’ll have to keep pressing on, then. And so it goes.

Something good for that ‘every once in a while’

So I’m sitting in bed at one in the morning playing a song on Itunes that I’ve bought for my cat to calm her down. There’s this organization that is creating songs that are scientifically proven to make your cat happy, or calm them down, or whatever, and it’s amazing. This one in particular, “Rusty’s Ballad,” (I can’t stop thinking how hilarious that is) really works on Louise to relieve her anxiety, I think.

Anyways, I realize that I’m insinuating my cat has anxiety, which means that I’ve probably psychoanalyzed her to some extent. Additionally, I am playing this song on loop and talking to my cat alone late at night. All signs point to crazy cat lady.

There’s this innate nurturing side of people that really comes out a lot of times with pets, even if the person doesn’t seem to be particularly warm towards humans, and it’s absolutely genuine. This devotion never really ceases to captivate me. Maybe we’re all just a little wounded, clinging to that thing that can never really hurt us, at least, not in the way that humans can. They need us, but we need them more, (Or at least, 1,000 years ago, because domestication).

Anyways, I think pets bring out if not the best, something really good in people. It’s nice to think that humanity has a good side, at least every once in awhile.

On the rapist in town

 

What a tragedy it is that when I am consumed in the music. indulging in the majesty of the night sky, and pleased to be feeling small that I must snap back to the reality in which I live, where I am big and vulnerable. I take one headphone out, heart racing, terrified that I’ve let my guard down without realizing and for just a little too long. My head turns 360 degrees like an owl as I hurriedly glance over my shoulder.

Everyone I come towards on the street is a threat, a possibility in the back of my mind. A mutual sigh of relief is audible as girls pass other girls, comforted in their allies. A tensing of the shoulders comes as I pass men alone. How I wish I could trust men like I trust women. How I wish that tickle down my spine weren’t an immediate reaction to the possibility of danger.

I stop to put that second headphone in when I reach the public place because only there can I feel safe to be alone. Oh the conversations I miss out on when I can finally afford to silence the night.

So, please, I beg, just every once in awhile, Mr. rapist, let me feel small.

 

 

Everyone ever: stop acting like you know what you’re doing

please for the love of God, or whoever.

Seriously though, my mind these days is a constant shift between “oh my god what am I going to do with my life” and “it’s totally cool, one step at a time, my, this is living, isn’t it?” It’s almost as if I have two different people, one uptight dad who’s disappointed his child is an art major and the other is an old philosopher that lives in the hills and is a huge Castaneda fan.

Generally, though, I think the consensus is if you think you know what you’re doing, you’ll probably figure out later that you were wrong. It’s just hard to remember that sometimes when everyone has a/is asking about your plan.

And the rest of us just feel darn right terrible so please, for our mental stability, let’s all be real, yeah?

Fetty Wap, reveal your secrets

Google Search:

“Feddy Wop” x

“Fetty Wop” x

“Fetty Wap” ah, yes.

Apparently Fetty Wap is coming to the big number fest at OU this year. Of course, my follow up was,

“Who is Feddy Wop?”

To which my friend replied,

“You know who Fetty Wap is.”

..

No. No, I….. Umm.

Google Search:

“Fetty Wap”– wikipedia.

The first remarkable thing about Mr. Wap is, according to Wikipedia, he “began taking interest in music in 2013” and by 2014, had a hit single. That’s a quick turnaround. He must be doing something right. Of course, also, he “started off as only a rapper”  and “later decided to start singing as well” (And in this case, later probably means a matter of a month or two.)

My favorite part of the Wikipedia page, however, has got to be: “He was nicknamed “Fetty” (slang for money) as he was known for making money.” There is something purely hysterical about trying to write a factual report with information like this.

Anyways, Fetty is coming to OU, and we are all very excited.

Here’s to you, Mr. Wap. God bless ya.

Today I ordered a decaf cup of coffee…

… so let adulthood officially commence?

Or did I actually just skip over adulthood and go straight to eighty?

Regardless, I have this theory that I’m experimenting with, as follows:

If, after 5pm, I find myself wanting to get up out of my slump and go be productive, I need a cup of coffee. However, I know, being easily affected by whatever it may be I choose to ingest, that if I drink a cup of coffee at a later hour I will absolutely not be asleep before 1 am. Therefore, if I drink a decaf cup of coffee, I will be tricking myself in to thinking I am becoming caffeinated, while avoiding the repercussions of not getting a full night sleep. Let’s put it under the category of meta-mind tricks.

And hell, maybe this is the actually intended purpose of decaf coffee. Who knows. Having mocked mercilessly the idea of decaffeinated coffee in my lifetime, especially as a barista, I suppose I never thought to ask offending party why, and perhaps I should have. Note to self.

Anyways, I’ll let you know if it works or not.

I’ve been writing this week and not posting. I was feeling apprehensive about it. Let the records show, however, that I am forcing myself to do it regardless, since it’s still January, and the general public has at least three more weeks before completely abandoning the idea of a New Year’s Resolution. So stay tuned this week.

C.

The Why: I manage to jot down vague sentiments of my own mind and ideas relating to writing while you read (or don’t) and carry on with your life

So it’s 2016.

First off, when the f*** did that happen? (My censorship is limited to just barely PG, as I will try to make this blog kid friendly while making sure to not disrupt the flow of my natural lexicon).

Anyways, it’s 2016. In less than five months time, I will be graduating college and catapulting myself in to an uncertain abyss that is so lovingly referred to as (this of course, is sarcasm, everyone you meet hates the) “real world.”

2015 was a very eye-opening year for me as I rediscovered something that I always had an inclination towards: writing. So in 2016, I have given myself the task of posting weekly on this blog in an attempt to connect with the blogging community, connect with myself through my own writing, and find my writer’s voice (sap sap sap).

So, why a blog? Is anyone reading this anyways? Personally, I think social media, particularly Facebook, is a fascinating phenomenon. Thousands and thousands of people share the most intimate details of their lives for everyone that they’ve ever even been slightly acquainted with to see. Part of me feels as though this is the most entertaining thing to ever happen to the world, and the other part makes me think, well shit, these people think people care way more about them than they actually do.

That sounds shitty, right? But come on, it’s so true. Honestly, it’s great that you’re off of the black tar, but only a quarter of your friends are reading your post and most of that quarter (such as me) are only reading it because we find you utterly fascinating and take screen shots of your post to share with our best friends. I’ll be the first one to admit I’m an asshole on the internet, and when you realize you are too, you can follow suit.

So, are people reading this? Probably not. To those who are, my sincere thank you, and I hope to offer you a new outlook on life, and if I cannot do even that, maybe you will be at least the slightest bit entertained (Perhaps the same level of entertainment you’d get from coming across a photo album on Facebook of dogs snapshotted mid-run, their jowls flowing in the wind….

On second thought, probably not, those are pretty damn perfect.)

Why blog in 2016? Because I can. Because it’ll help me as I attempt to have some sort of writing career. Because it helps me extract thoughts in my brain I wouldn’t otherwise face. Because I desire to share the most intimate details about my life with anyone who will listen. Because I want to connect with people about their thoughts and ideas, argue some, and have a good laugh or two.

So here’s to 2016, let’s make it a good one, because as of now, it’s all we have.

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