the next twelve months

dear peter, i've never seen the sky more beautiful. i want to soar off this porch and glide into the horizon, evaporate into thin air, right where the blue meets the pink, right where you and i were once born. there's only a few hours left of the last twelve months. i haven't seen your face once, barely heard your voice, but i've loved you without hesitation through the falling snow, and the emerging summer, the blazing sun and the wild waves, and the devastating heartbreaks. i've loved you through all of this, i'll love you through all that is yet to happen. tonight you're a world away, but to me you are much closer than any of the people who are sat right by me here at the table. i wish you were here, or i wish i was there. i look at the heart shaped tree in my garden and i imagine that that's what my heart looks like. i am starved for you. my fingers are barely feeling. i wonder how the next twelve months will play with us, whether they will bring us together, or tear us further apart, but i pray that they will let us meet. i wish you everything. blinding beauty and sadness that teaches you how to love stronger, inspiring skylines and waves made of wise whispers. love, and snow, and raindrops, and breaking speed limits just to turn the breeze into the wind, so the letters your heart writes to those you love are sent faster. i know that i may not be the one you choose, and i know that we cannot choose who we love, but i also know that my heart will protect you forever. my fingers bleed for you, and all my words ache for your eyes. i write love letters to you even in my sleep. you're the reason i'm still breathing. you're the straw that doesn't kill me. i listen to the radio downstairs and to me those words are empty. the lyrics all profess a new year that will be happy and great but i never understood how twelve months that never happened can be glorified. i don't know why i've always found windowsills so comforting. i crawl up on them as if i were a cat and i stare into the sky, making out the distant lights as stars, and i blow wishes into the night. i wish the whole world was a metaphor, so i could find it endlessly beautiful and revealing, so it could feed me everyday, so i wouldn't be so afraid to live. i love feeling hidden, i love protecting myself from the outside world with curtains, or darkness, or closed doors, so i can dream. dreaming feeds me so much more than living does. i wear a promise on my finger, i believe that in a way it keeps you always by my heart, where i can guard you when you're sleeping. dear peter, i don't know what the next twelve months will bring, but i only hope they bring me to you. dear peter, please know that you are the most beautiful boy i have ever known, and that to me your every breathe is a story in itself. dear peter, may the next twelve months guard you with their wings.

The heart

the heart, it steers everything into motion. it sets of the most unbelievable triggers, it awakens. it tells me stories about love, about loss, about the chance of a future. its the most vital part of us, i really do believe in its existence. i believe there is so much beauty inside us, its buried right under your skin, and sometimes, in your weakest moment , it shines. i am not one to preach about romance, or God, or even the good and the bad inside us, but i believe in emotion. and i believe people are most beautiful when at their most vulnerable. they show something real, they involuntarily share something with you, their secrets. i believe that life is meant to be lived with the heart. i believe that the brain is there to remind us to be smart, but only when at our weakest. it isn't about being careful, or about setting up safety nets before you leap. it's about leaping without a single thought in your head, it's about letting yourself crash, about letting something destroy you. it's about letting everything in, letting love in, whether it be to a boy, or a girl, or even a passion, about not being afraid to break into pieces. it's about physically wanting someone, about the traces of your breath near your neck in cold weather, about glances at people you're too afraid to fall for, but fall for anyway. i think there's so much to life that so many people miss, it's like they live, and never figure out why. but whether it rises you to the moon, or whether it takes you down to dragon caves, just remember, rock bottom is a beautiful place to start.

The epiphany

It suddenly hit me, what if nothing that I write is actually remarkable?

Fireflies

I suddenly just realized how much i'd like you to read my words. maybe thats the real bridge between us. my words reveal the real me, they're what i live with. and yet you've never built that ship to understand them. to you i really am i foreigner. I'm like this strange artifact you don't quite understand. i seem so distant, so out of touch with reality, and it frustrates you because you don't understand where all the passion goes. you don't see that canvas where i spill my words out. maybe thats been our problem all along. you don't know me, but only because you can't. only because i write words in a foreign language, and you wish i spoke in yours. i don't know why this is how i found a connection to writing, i don't know why my own language never spoke to me as loudly as this one, but this one taught me how to love, and how to fall too, it taught me all the emotions and all the facts. i was bound from then on. you don't chose them, they chose you. your words come and find you, and then they take you away. you're like a prisoner trapped on a journey, they don't let go of you, you have to follow them, you have to trust them to take you wherever they lead. that's such a beautiful image. they hold your hand, they tell you that it's alright, that you'll understand soon, that you're not really meant for this world, that you're not cut out for it, you're here for a different purpose. you have to translate life into words, you have to remind people how to feel. the day my words found me i was bound, i was in love, i was safe. i knew i could trust them. they spoke to me in a language i understood. i became a fairy, not belonging to this world but crafting my own. i used fireflies as light and made out footsteps into the jungle. now i was home.

Why don't you know me?

Isn't this what it's all about? Talking to your parents and actually feeling better about yourself from the conversations? Because when I talk to him, I feel more loved. He tells me that I'm pretty, he says if you weren't my daughter I would have fallen in love with you right now, he tells me I've lost weight, he tells me that it'll be okay, he reminds me that after all college years are the best of your life, and he encourages me to keep going. He's being my dad.

But when I talk to you, I feel destroyed. I love you, mum, I really do, but I feel like you're destroying me. I wish I could explain it but your words stab me right in the heart, and they haunt me, and they have put me off food forever. Your words have bred this monster inside of me. And I don't want to hold you responsible for this, because you're not, it's all my doing. But why don't you know me? Like really know me, like a parent is supposed to know their kid? You're meant to feel me, you're meant to see past every silence, past every lie. You don't though, you believe that I'm a pathological liar yet you can never tell the lies apart from the truth. It's bittersweet really, you believe my lies and you refute my truths.

I wish we had stayed a family. There's nothing I want more than that. Nothing.

A leap of faith

I'm sat in the most beautiful park on a cold winter morning. There are pigeons around me, resting in the grass and then flying off somewhere, far and beautiful I imagine. I wish I could feel life more. Like, really feel it. You know what I mean? I don't want to miss a moment of this, I want to be painfully aware of everything.
My fingers are frozen but I keep writing. Writing is my form of living. This past few months have been a lot about self-discovery. I found myself in a beautiful foreign city, and I realized that that doesn't make life any easier. You still have to find yourself, you still need to figure it all out. I know that my world has to somehow shape around words. They are the whole foundation of my sanity. I cannot conceive of a world where I can't come to the park one winter morning and write about the rose petals, or the rain drops, or the wind blowing in my face and telling me secrets.
I believe in life only when I write about it. Do you believe in me?
Because this is a giant leap that I'm taking. I think I'm ready to take it though. I'm ready to accept that I was born merely for this, to immortalize a fleeting moment. But you'll be disappointed, I know this. And I can't help but think that partly this is all my fault, I fed you lies for so many years, I created another me, a strong girl you could be proud of, and now that I'm ready to reveal my real self, you won't believe it. I never wanted to be strong, I just wanted to be real. And if fragile is what makes real, then I'll be fragile.
I'll be fragile. Will you still love me in the morning?

All for you

I wish I could say I remember the day I met you. How I remember how your red hair shined in the sun that day. How your smile was still the most radiant part of you. How your eyes shined and sent me a secret through the sunlight. I wish I could remember the most important day of my life.
I don’t. I don’t because we were two six year olds brought together by fate. Even then, I knew that I would never find someone as fascinating as you. Even then you were the best part of my day. Even then the world was always fun around you. Even then I loved you, exactly for who you were, a beautiful red headed boy, with the kindest heart and the greatest ideas.
Today you are all those things, and even more. Today I look at you, and a life without you terrifies me. I listen to you and I know that I will never want to listen to someone as much.
Your kindness doesn’t show but it’s the best part of you.
There is nothing I want more than to walk down the aisle towards you one day, knowing that I’m marrying my best friend. That I won the battle against the world, I found love and I caught it, and hid it deep in my heart with the key in yours. There is nothing I want more than to look in your eyes one day and saying that I do, seeing your shining awe, your constant look of mischief. There is nothing I want more than living a life with you.
You make me believe in all the world has to offer. In all the feelings that I’ve only read about, in all the ways life can be lived.

(Your past and my future are interconnected. One day you brought me to an ocean, and the waves brought me Peter Pan. For that I will be eternally grateful.)

My beautiful life

This brings out the best in me, but you would never understand that, mum. You don’t understand anything that exists outside your box of morals and rules. You love order, and things being followed by a well thought out plan. You like things happening your way, and you like being able to control everything. Maybe that’s why we’ve found it hard to get along ever since I was thirteen. You see, I believe in beauty above everything. It doesn’t have to be neat, or careful, or even correct. I want real, tragic, fragile, wild beauty. I want everything, I want to live a life and know that I’ve really done it all. That I felt life through every fiber of my being, that I’ve been to hell and back, and that I would go again. That’s what I want. I want to live a beautiful life.

We were driving in the car

We were driving in the car, I was ten. My mother was angry at us, and as always whenever she wanted to teach us a lesson, she’d tell us stories about our father. You know he never even showed on your birthday, V, she said. He spent the night before with a prostitute, and showed up at home drunk and wearing another woman’s lipstick on his skin. He showed up on your birthday morning drunk, and went to bed. Our plans to go to the mall that day and buy you your perfect present, a playhouse, fell through. I headed out alone and bought something else, I don’t remember. I found a woman’s telephone number in his pocket.

That story still haunts me today. As we drove in the car that day my world fell apart. I knew it then, my dad never cared about me, and on my 6^th birthday, he betrayed me. That day was supposed to be the best of my life, I was supposed to remember it with him in the picture.

Instead, ever since I was 5, I don’t remember you ever being in the picture.

I never quite could remember that day the same way again.

Hippies

I feel like in another world we would be two hippies travelling the world. People would often wonder, how are they okay with that? How are they okay as strays?, and we would always wonder, how are they okay with chains? How are they okay to not be free? We’d travel around the world together, you and me, happy and innocent, beautiful and funny. In an ideal world we’d be made hippies, free to be in love.  Doomed nights and no one waiting for us in the morning.

Her heart ached for fragility

I’ve realized that all these years, I’ve tried to feed an illusion. The strong girl was never more than a deception created by a girl who thought she needed to be strong. She didn’t know herself, and so she assumed that wanting to be strong is what everybody wanted, to be independent and wild, never asking for help.  She decided to be just that and she was wrong. As her illusion grew and she became the wise old sorcerer people came to for help and support, she began to crave beauty. She desired nothing more but to be a helpless fairy, always in awe of protection. She needed to be small and tiny, her heart ached for fragility.

A little girl

I want to be an angel. I want to dream about unicorns and wake up to cups of hot chocolate. I want to skip around in big cosy sweaters and slippers laughing about the most silly things. I want to wear pony tails and draw hearts on my wrists. I want to blow bubbles and take funny pictures. I want to be kissed on the forehead and spun around the rooms. I want to be loved like a little girl.

Always

You will always be my biggest 'what if'.

My fantasy

I had a fantasy about tomorrow. I imagined you kissing my fingers, my forehead, smiling at me with that beautiful mouth, looking at me in a way that would make me feel invincible. I imagined us as something beautiful, as something that was meant to be. I was so hopeful. But instead, I will sit silently beside you, and the room will be faint of feelings. The two hours will pass and I'll pack my thing as you pack yours. We'll walk out without glances, probably even without regrets, and walk our separate ways. You'll live your life, and I'll live mine. I'll take the metro to the station, and act as happy as I can, all the while imagining what it would feel like if you were with me. I wish that fantasy came true, I wish we hadn't lost it.

Painfully aware

I avoid going home because at home I feel lonely. I sit in the library instead, the silence, the sound of typing, the strangers around me, it makes me feel better. I don't feel so alone. Home has become a dangerous place, full of temptations and potential screw-ups. I never thought I'd reach the day when home would feel like a threat.

Paris is as beautiful as always. I love stopping myself from whatever I'm doing sometimes and making myself remember that. I never want to cease my love affair with Paris, I never want to forget just how lucky I am to be here. I want to be painfully aware of everything.

On a less poetic note, I think it's time to invest in a new laptop. As much as I love mine, it's pretty broken right now, and I'm just not sure on whether it's really worth to fix it. So I'm contemplating on buying a macbook air. Decision decisions...  But I do need a computer I can carry around with me, especially with exams coming up. If only money wasn't such an issue all the time though.

Beautiful people

Beautiful people do not just happen.

Elizabeth Kubler Ross 

11/11/11

I drive through the night city and I realize just how screwed up I let everything get. I met a friend today, the one person in this foreign city who knows me for more than just a few months. 15 years is how far back we go. I sat around in his apartment and realized just how tired I am. Sadness always sneaks up on me, I never expect it. It can come at any given moment, it just bursts in and suddenly everything is dark. I felt like crying out loud that I need help. That I just need someone to tell me that I don't have to be strong all the time. That they will take care of me, and I can sleep in peace just for one night. But I've always had to be strong. The past five years I spent in foreign cities. Two in each, always starting over, always learning more about strength. Never allowing myself to give up, even for a little while. I'm tired and I need help. But there's no one to reach out to. Because I've been taught to be strong, and strength is the ultimate gift.
I look at my hands and they reveal the true story. That I haven't been strong at all, that I've fallen back into the same routine. They reveal too much, the scars on my hands. They are the whole story.
I made a wish at 11:11, my idea of beauty, and my idea of love.
Tomorrow the sun will rise again, tomorrow I'll have to pretend all over again.

Being twenty

To tell you the truth I haven't doing that well at all lately. My whole world is falling apart and I have no energy to do anything but watch. This whole 'being twenty' thing isn't working out as well as I thought.

Chapter two

Love

People think that if you love somebody hard enough then everything is just gonna work out. People are wrong. 

OTH

Step one

I've realized that I have to teach myself to be studious again. Maybe that's just it, the problem I'm having. I've forgotten what it's like to study hard, and it's hard to get back to doing something you haven't done in a long time. I know I wrote before that it's time to change and sort my life out, but the studying part of it I kept putting off. I don't have time to put it off much longer. And as hard as I find it to focus and concentrate, I have to learn to do it again, like I did when I was younger. So the goal for today is the catch up on intellectual property law. Forget all the other modules for the day, today that's the bridge I have to cross. And the first step is always the hardest. But once you make it, it's easier to keep walking. It's time to make step one.

Quiet

One day left and it is finally half term break. I cannot emphasize enough how relieved I am to know that. The last 8 weeks have been a mess! I have never felt so disorganised and shit at studying before. I'm looking forward to no classes, to quiet afternoons and long walks, and reading nice books and just generally recovering from all the negative of my life. I also made a plan for the weeks to come after the break, because I cannot keep this disorganisation up, and it's going to be hard! I have so many things to get done every week, so many presentations, essays and debates to prepare, and most of them in french too! So all things considered the end of the semester is going to be an absolute bitch. So mostly I will have to dedicate my time to studying for the next 11 days. But at least I can do it at my own pace, and not have new things pile up on my desk. I look forward to quiet. And being healthy, which hasn't been working out all that well for the past week. I look forward to recovering.

Bonfires

I feel like this whole weekend has revolved around food. It's like I keep forgetting that it doesn't actually make anything better. Ice cream can no longer solve your problems and make the world happy again. All it gives you is  extra calories you never deserved in the first place. It's time to sort that out. The whole feeling sorry for myself and eating my feelings away phase has to end now. Before I gain another 5 pounds and have to deal with that problem. I've got enough on my plate without the weight gain issue already.

I have to be up in 7 hours, and I'm no where near heading to bed. I seem to deal with problems by avoiding them and I never learn. I'm just so fed up of things. I'm fed up of constantly being unhappy about my body, I am fed up of people who treat others like shit for absolutely no reason, of boys and my utter inability to sort that aspect of my life out, of missing my father and feeling guilty about it, of the fact that parents aren't perfect, of school and how bad it's turning out, of never being able to sort things out in time. If I could the first thing I'd do right now is defer for a semester and go away. I need to get away. I need to go some place quiet, with a lake, and with mountains, and silence, and music, and bonfires, where I could write, and rehabilitate from life, and come to terms with my feelings. What I wouldn't give for the chance to escape, if only for a little while...That is my idea of heaven. Bonfires and guitars playing in the night, and peaceful days in big cosy sweaters, reading beautiful books and getting inspired all over again every single day. If only we could put our life on pause sometimes.

I don't want to face reality. I'm not ready.

Halloween is coming early to town

I'm going to a halloween party tonight, since a lot of people will be away next weekend for the break it's been scheduled early this year. So more socialising, smiling, laughing, drinking, and just generally acting happy. But maybe that will be good for me. I've been feeling pretty down since thursday. It's a sort of inexplicable sadness since nothing actually happened. Well sort of, but not really.
I have a bit of a weird situation with my friends right now. Basically we were planning to take a trip together next week until they went and booked everything themselves without telling me. I haven't confronted them about it, I just sort of suck at confrontations. I don't like them, and they make me feel uncomfortable, and once things are out there's no way of taking them back. So I haven't said anything, and neither have they, but I'm disappointed. I don't understand why people act a certain way, why they have a tendency to bring someone down for absolutely no reason, and yet be so warm to them when they see them.
Also the situation with the french boy really confused me. It's a stupid story so I don't even want to get into it, partly because I'm embarrassed about how lame it is, but it made me feel too sad, when it shouldn't. We never even had a proper conversation, it was just sort of there, some sort of connection, I could feel it. And looking back at it now, I see it all that more clearer. And then thursday came and I looked at him and I realized that somehow its over. My feelings just evaporated into thin air, when only 5 days ago they were all over the place. And I knew that was mutual too. It was like a short flame that got extinguished by silence. Because neither one of us did anything soon enough. And that's disappointing. I've learnt that waiting can be dangerous sometimes. You lose something that could have been wonderful. So I walked home from class realizing how my little love story is over without ever even having a beginning. I don't understand why it makes me this sad. I suddenly feel lonely again.
My mother asked me to come home for the break but I realized I don't want to. I'll just stay in Paris and try to rehabilitate myself. I listen to my friends talk about home and somehow I don't feel like I have that. Maybe it's because we've moved around, and the places that I have a connection to are gone, and what's left is a 'new' home, one that never starts feeling real. It's strange though, we've lived there for maybe 8 years now, and still it doesn't feel right. And then my friends were talking about their fathers yesterday, and I went outside for a cigarette because I realized I couldn't sit there and listen any longer. Because I'd give anything to have my dad near, to just go out for a beer and talk about life, to joke around, to have him give me advice that I'll be convinced I don't actually need. But I know that's impossible, he's not here and he won't be here. And that's just the way the cards turned out. I never got to be the girl embarrassed of her father as he talks to her friends.
I should go though, writing about this isn't going to help, and certainly not tonight. It's time to put a happy face on.

Night silence

I hate the night silence, when all you can hear is the ticking of the clock... time just passing right by you.

I miss you already

There is something comforting about heartache. Because although you never felt more alone, and suddenly everything is colourless, and meaningless, and it feels like everything you've worked for has come crashing down, with it comes a sort of clarity. Although you don't really want a tomorrow, there is a feeling buried deep inside you that tells you that after all, you'll be okay. Because you're alive, and you know you'll survive it, even if you don't want to. I'm sorry that this is the way things happened, and I'm sorry that it's all my fault, but I can't be sorry to move on. In a weird sense I miss you. I wish I could want you, and I wish you could want me, but I know that it's gone, that sparkle, the inexplicable silence between us that said everything we wanted. I know that  you aren't thinking about this, that it's only me who looks for explanations, and in a way that hurts, but I can accept that, the way the world works. The ideal thursday turned into the night Paris went dark. I'll find a way to be okay again. 

Lesson learned

As I walk along the night streets of Paris, I realize that sometimes when you wait, you lose. And that not taking that risk might be the greatest risk of all. That the fear of falling might be exactly what pushes us over the edge. That sometimes, doing nothing means that things will be done for you, and the outcome might be fatal. Because if you're not in control of your life, it controls you instead, and it doesn't always listen to what you want. Exactly a week ago the world was endless. I scooped every corridor, and the possibilities were beautiful. In a sense, I was beautiful. Tonight I'm just me. And that night spent up on the eiffel tower, eyes closed, heart open, blowing away, was a premonition. It really was too good to be true. And if only I had done something sooner. Sometimes it really is too late. 

Light at the end of the tunnel

Reflecting on yesterday

Thing's that I actually did well yesterday:

• French! I switched on the TV and watched/listened to it for 5 hours, and I understood pretty much everything! :) I am going to do this everyday now, just switch it on and at least have it play in the background. I hear this helps. 
• Food. Fairly. No bad foods, but maybe still too much healthy food, and at the wrong time. Today I'll be better with that. 
• Commitment phobia. I started googling information about it, only to realize that I don't need the web to explain it to me. I know exactly where I got it from. It's not something I've had forever. Sure, maybe there were traces of it but they were just me being very young, and unable to be myself in a relationship because I was too shy and scared. But the real problem was caused by an ex when I was 18. He made me feel trapped. He told me he loved me a few days into the relationship, and was so clingy I had no space to breathe. And when I finally ended things the break up lasted longer than the relationship did because he just wouldn't let go. And now he hates me. That made me afraid to get into another relationship in case the same would happen. But I can't judge every guy based on one, especially one like him. He was definitely not normal about it. And I don't want to have him affect me for the rest of my life. 

And as for studies... I tried, so hard, but I am seriously starting to worry about myself. I have a huge concentration problem. It's like this sudden need to distract myself, and I honestly can't explain it. Because I actually find the material interesting, but a few minutes into reading it's like my brain is exploding and I have a desperate urge to stop. I don't know how serious this is, but it's certainly very damaging. I thought maybe it's my way of being lazy, but I honestly don't think so. So I need to figure out how to deal with this. And fast. 

I couldn't get to sleep until 4am I think, and I had a class at 8am, but I overslept... Typical. But I am only allowed to miss a class  twice a semester or it's an automatic fail and I've used the two up now so I seriously need a better alarm clock for all the weeks to come! I have a class in 1h40min with a written interrogation, so time to get some last minute studying in! And down more coffee. 

When is it too late?

I have been trying to re-assess my life after coming to the conclusion that I am no where near to where I want to be. And I think the way to deal with problems is by identifying them, and then figuring out how to face them. So, here I am, a 20 year old with nothing to be proud of, and drowning in self-loathing way too often. It's time for a change. And a real change too, not one of those you feel inspired about before bedtime, and forget all about in the morning. It's time to get my life together and this time for real.

So things that must be addressed:

• My weight. I have been unhappy about it since about the age of 13, so that's 7 years of self-consciousness and misery. It's time to beat this once and for all. No more crap food, I can do this and I can do it fast. All it takes is a mindset, I would know. I have lost 8 kilos before, I can do it again. 

• My studies. I have always been seen as the 'smart' one by my family. They have great expectations for me, they truly believe that I will be the bread winner one day. Whilst I listen to their words and wonder how the hell can they have so much faith in me, when I have none? I am so insecure. I am terrified of my future. Because the last thing I would consider myself is smart. I'm not an idiot, okay, but I am not smart either. And that's partly my fault. I have the potential for great things, 4 languages, a fairly good education, and a lot of life experience, yet I'm not putting it to any use. I am mediocre at my studies, all because I never find the motivation to try harder. And I am completely aware of that. I put in the bare minimum, because a part of me really doesn't give a f*ck. But I can't do this to myself anymore. I need to put all I got into this, it's my chance to win a better life. I need to go to bed every night with a clear conscience, knowing that I did everything in my power to succeed for the day. So that's all about to change. It's time to stop wasting time on bullshit. 

• My way of living. I am so disorganised. Although I have an agenda and a blackberry, I still don't manage to organise my thoughts and tasks and to-do lists, etc. I am all over the place. And so is my flat most the time. And my mother always said that the way your desk looks, that's the way things are inside your head. So it's time to organise my desk, my closet and my kitchen, make a clear plan of what needs to be done, and get on with it. 

• My stupidity. I haven't picked up a newspaper in over a month. I just don't find the time anymore, yet interestingly enough I always find the time to waste on uselessness. So it's time to buy The Economist every week again, and be aware of what is actually happening in the world. It's getting embarrassing how little I am actually aware of reality. 

• My commitment phobia. I am a serious screw up when it comes to anything to do with relationships. I don't know why, and I have spent hours and hours trying to analyse myself and how my mind works, and still it's a mystery. There's the french boy who I mentioned once before, who I like a lot, he's charming, very smart (which I actually find intimidating), and just plain gorgeous. And I am 99% certain that he likes me too. Yet he seems to be the shy kind, which I am too when it comes to guys, so it's a really stupid situation where neither one of us knows how to start up a conversation. But regardless, using that as an example... I would love for something to happen, and right now he's on my mind way too much. BUT looking back at my past, I am afraid that it's gonna repeat itself. As soon as I get a guy I want, and I can see that he's into me, I feel like I suddenly have all the control, and I get so bored. I can do whatever the hell I want with him, it becomes so easy. I don't want that to happen. Because with the boredom comes the fear. I become terrified of commitment, and of winding up in yet another relationship in which I don't want to be. I need to stop this, because it's self-destructive. I guess I need to try and open up more, and take it day by day, and not freak out and run. Baby steps. 

• My indecisiveness. I have read that this is the most prominent characteristic of a libra, and I cannot emphasize enough on just how indecisive I am. And it's not good at all. Because sometimes I spend so much time over-thinking things and I lose out on everything. There's a saying, if you try to chase two rabbits at once, you won't get either. I need to practice being more decisive, and sticking by my decisions. I need to stop being afraid that my decision won't be liked by someone, because you can't please everybody. 

• My french. It is disastrous, and the worst part is that it isn't even improving, whilst the whole point of this year is for me to be speaking it and becoming fluent. But the truth is I hardly ever use it. Pretty much all my friends here are foreign, so the french I speak is limited to ordering coffee or lunch or asking for a pack of Marlboro's. So I seriously need to make more of an effort. French TV, attempt to hang out with more frenchies, and just more practice. Time's a wasting. 

So I need to change all of these things before it is too late. Especially my studies. I need to give it all I got, because I look at my life and I don't like it. I'm failing. And that is mortifying. I don't want to be scared anymore. 

Push

Focus

I bought myself a diary the other day, and it has gradually turned into my therapy. I realized that whilst I sit in class and contemplate on just how bad my french is, I need to write, because my head is overflowing with thoughts and feelings. So I bought a notebook and it is filled with pages of writing already. 3 days and 8 pages of self-analysis and self-loathing. I have become addicted to it.

I don't think I can emphasize enough on just how bad school is going. And the worst part is, I can't get myself into a studious mindset. I am always distracted, always wondering about irrelevant things and always in need to analyse my own screwed up self. I have an exam on monday though, and I am going to do the very best I can to study for it. No time to waste. I have a week of at the end of october and I think I'm just going to stay here and make myself study 24/7, maybe I'll manage to at least partly catch up then!

My best friend is in town for the day, so I'm going to go meet her in a few hours. The last time I saw her was weeks ago, on the 5th of september. But truth be told, that is a small consolation. I am one of those people who still keeps all things important to herself. I can't bare the fact of having people know too much about me, even those who are closest to me, and have been with me for many many years. I don't like being vulnerable. And I especially don't like talks about my romantic life (or lack of thereof).

My mum left yesterday, and although I read all your advice on talking to her on how I'm feeling, I couldn't do it. I wish I knew it would help, but I know it couldn't. My mum is a 'tough love' kind of person. She doesn't believe in being soft, she goes straight to the point and although the truth is always good, it's also hard to take. I am not oblivious to reality, and I know all those things she says, I wholeheartedly agree, but sometimes I just need someone to support me despite them. So I am aware of the fact that had I sad something, she would have strictly told me to focus on my studies, stop eating, and not waste time on bullshit thoughts. And I know all those things already. I just need a shoulder to cry on sometimes, a moment to allow myself to be weak. I don't think she believes in weakness.

Irrelevance

Ever since last weekend a wave of sadness has been coming over me. I feel entirely irrelevant, and the world feels like a trap. I woke up on sunday morning and I was different. Even my love for S, which had been unconditional and painful for over a year, with every day revolving around the possibility of us, faded. I realized that I am no longer in that stage of life where I can sustain myself on dreams. I feel like my heart melted and is gone. And I am trying so hard to care, to put on a happy face for my mother, who has been here since monday, but I'm doing so bad. There is no life inside my eyes, and I don't understand how things used to have a meaning. I have reached a quarter life crisis, and the disappointment is inevitable. I miss S, but its a background feeling, while before it used to be throbbing pain every day of the week. It's a pain that you don't see unless you  know what you're looking for, and even then, its hard to recognise.
My mother leaves tomorrow, and I'll be left all alone again. I'm not sure how I feel about that, but it is a relief that I can end pretending. And probably eating too.
The world changed overnight, and I don't know how to rebuild it.

And the world feels dark

Post Secret sunday

Life as I know it

I realized something today. The world is no longer a beautiful flower garden, it is filled with thorns and rocks, and you have to fight and fight dirty to survive. There is no longer such a thing as real friendships, the social status defines it all. I realized something today. All my life I have strived to be on the upper side of things, and I have all the potential in the world to be there, but today, as I found myself down at the bottom, all I felt was nothing. If you hear my raised voice, regardless of what I'm saying, even if I'm screaming I've given up, I haven't. A raised voice is a fight, I'm fighting and I'm going, pushing forward. My voice was quiet today. I gave up. I didn't fight, or protest, or even complain. I quietly did everything that was asked of me, and realized just how clueless the people closest to me can be. How people who know you better than anyone else will still see the world revolving around themselves, and not imagine that it could be any other way.

All I feel now is serenity. It's like the calm that comes after a storm. I am not there yet, everywhere I long to be, and all I want is to say goodbye to life as I know it, and quietly, silently, without a voice, work towards what I need. Today I haven't turned twenty, it was just a symbol, a celebration of what I'm turning soon, but inside, I feel like I aged a hundred years. Today was a stepping stone into the future, today I matured by too many years, and as always, with maturity, comes a little disappointment.

Through

The best way out is always through 

Robert Frost

An I love you post

As I was sitting by my desk not doing anything productive, I got a skype call from my friend who I haven't heard from in months. Speaking to him was so nice, and I realized just how grateful I am for the friends I've made in my life. And then I realized how rare it is to actually have a moment when you fully appreciate someone. Sure, you love people, but you know sometimes it just dawns on you how much, and you can't help but smile about them. You stop taking them for granted. I didn't want to let that moment go. So this is my first 'I love you' post, dedicated to my friend Dani. 

We met back in high school, on a school trip we took to Berlin. It was funny because I never actually knew him before that, and I was convinced that he was 'the new kid' and wouldn't believe him when he said he went to that school all his life. He had to show me his primary school photo year book to prove it :) I've mentioned before how Madrid never was my city. I think the two years I spent there were probably the roughest of my life. I was dealing with so many insecurities, being overweight, being betrayed by my best friend, which hurt more than anything ever has since. I was just a lonely kid in a big city with no family, and suddenly hardly any friends to count on. And then I met Dani, we just started up a conversation as we walked back to our hotel in Berlin one night. Little did I know how wonderful a friendship this would become. After the whole best friend drama I really didn't have many friends at all, I was lonely most of the time, depressed the other, but he was one of those people that I really could count on. And when I left, we kept in touch, and whenever I'd come back, we'd rekindle our friendship. And now I'm here in Paris, and he's in London, we always seem to miss each other as we move around. But he's a wonderful boy. And I think the girl that gets him eventually will be a very lucky one. 

I love realizing how amazing someone is. It suddenly makes the world shine a little more brighter. 

Always little

I just had dinner and now I feel guilty. I have such a screwed up relationship with food. But I don't really want to get into that right now, I feel like I've talked about it way too much and there's nothing new to add.

My sister's coming tomorrow morning, and I'm relieved that she'll be here. Every thursday night I begin feeling completely useless in french, after my politics class in french. It's hard, it's so hard, and I feel like I'm fighting this battle and there's no way of winning. I think I have some sort of 'younger sister' syndrome. When I was little my sister would always take care of me. If anyone ever bullied or offended me, she'd stand up for me in a second. She's such a fighter. And I think that even now, at 19, I sometimes crave that protection. I feel like hiding away from the world and having someone else deal with my problems for me. I remember when I was about 14 I took karate classes. One day the teacher made me stand in front of everyone and perform a Kata. I didn't know all the moves, and I felt so little suddenly. All these people looking at me, his eyes expecting something great from me, and suddenly, all I wanted was for my sister to stand up and cover me up from the world. Of course that never happened. I made a bit of a fool out of myself and sat back down, pretty much humiliated. I miss protection. I miss something that I've hardly had. A father figure that can make everything go away and make the world all better again. I've never had that though, he left when I was five. Ever since then I get these feelings sometimes of being completely unprotected and alone.

There's also this boy (isn't there always?), but in my case there really isn't. I'm the kind of person who falls for someone very rarely, but when I do, its big. He's french, he's in my thursday class, I've started looking forward to it actually. But nothing ever happens. He's shy I think, but I find that so charming. I've always had a soft spot for boys like that. I feel that it's reciprocal though, but neither one of us is doing anything about it. It doesn't bother me so much because I have a history of running as soon as I get what I want. I freak out. That's another issue I've always had, the commitment phobia. So in a way maybe it's better leaving this as a fantasy, if it comes to life I might run, or just get disappointed and bored. We haven't even had a conversation. He smiles at me, today he said hello for the first time! I feel like such a kindergarten kid writing this, it all sounds so naive and silly. Which it is of course, but it's also sweet at the same time. Maybe bitter-sweet. I only learnt his name today, it's all so innocent, it makes me smile. And then there's the whole language barrier. I'm kind of scared of starting up a conversation with him because I probably won't know how to say what I want and then I'll just feel stupid.

Also, I want to thank everyone who's been reading what I've got to say, and leaving such supportive comments. I read every single one of them and they make me smile so much, and I feel warmer inside after every single one.

And now comes my favourite phrase of the day... time to go sort my life out! It's almost become a hobby by now.

Winter feeling

There is something about winter that makes me feel small again. As if I never actually grew up. I get that feeling I'd get when I was little and was dropped off at school, how it dawns on you that for the rest of the day you're alone, and no one will protect you. 

A phone call from a stranger

Today I heard my dad's voice, for the first time in almost three years. I remembered our last conversation, I was 17 and hurt. His voice was cold, it's like he was possessed, there was not a hint of warmth inside him. There was  so much I needed to say but I couldn't. My lips froze and my mind went blank. That conversation haunted me for months. It's like I spoke to an ice sculpture.

Today he was warm, and loving, and funny. As I saw his name on the screen I hesitated, nervous to speak to him. How sad when it comes to this, when a conversation with a parent is something out of the ordinary. I wish he never left. I think my life would have been beautiful.

Almost 20

Today's been good. I had one class in the afternoon, in french, and boring as hell. I've given up on trying to understand the professor as I simply cannot follow him, partly because I am so uninterested in the topic. It's a module on french and foreign prisons. I took a class last year on prison photography and loved it, but it was so different. I thought I'd enjoy this one but it's a lot more factual, just theory and more theory. Whilst I am more interested in the humanitarian aspect of imprisonment, and the symbolism behind things. I look at it as an art, as I do on everything else really. Life is art to me, and I convert everything ugly into something beautiful. It's the only way I can feel the world.

After class I went for a drink with a friend, and then we ended up shopping. I wasn't very eager for that at first, with the whole weight gain issue I'm having right now, and practically running and screaming away from mirrors. But it was fun, I bought some things which looked really nice actually! And I felt like I needed new clothes as my jeans seem to emphasize my thighs too much these days, and I can't have that with my sister coming to town and all.

I'm also planning my birthday celebration right now. It's next tuesday but I'm celebrating with my friends this weekend. I think we're going to have a picnic (with cake of course!) by the Eiffel Tower on the Champ de Mars, and then go out dancing. Best therapy for everything. I'm excited :) But now there's the whole 'what to wear dilemma' so I may need to do some more shopping. And money is always an issue in my life. I haven't even looked at my bank balance lately, I'm too afraid! And rent is due in 2 days. I'm a bit terrified.

This amused me

Falling leaves

Nothing that I'm proud of & Knocked back into reality

Two posts eventually merged into one, as I fear this will otherwise appear to be too much of a self-help blog.

1. I hesitated a lot about this post, but it's my little space, and I don't want to hide here, I hide everywhere else and that's enough. I'm feeling so screwed up today. Well, actually for about a week now, all because I know, see and feel the extra weight on me. I let the scales control my life, as sad as it is. But I'm not delirious about the world, I know how demanding it is, I know it's idea of beauty and I know that I do not qualify. And that is the worst part of me. If I wrote here all my secrets, I would probably sound crazy for letting this one be the one I care for most. How is it that something so shallow is more worrying a thing  to me than my imprisoned father, for example? But that's the way the mind works. That's the way my mind works. I take things that are so little and make them so big.

I feel the pressure so much right now because my family will be here in just a few days. My sister is coming on friday, and I know what she'll think, and how I'll feel, and I'm scared. With one look at me she'll know I gained weight. She won't say much, but I know her too well to believe anything different. And I know how I'll feel, standing next to her and introducing her to people and being the 'fat' one. I am actually mortified at the thought.

I hate how the world has become this, I hate seeing so many girls all over the internet talking about dieting and starving and their constant insecurities, I hate how we let people mess with their lives so much all because of some ridiculous beauty standard. I've done a project on the modelling world before and I know how it works. I know how all these beautiful women we admire starve themselves, and torture their bodies, drive them into a grave even, and still we feel inadequate.

Maybe it's the disorder talking, but I don't really believe so. It's me facing the truth, avoiding the mirror, afraid of the weekend. I am so afraid, and a part of me is searching for that strength and absolute determination I had months ago, to justify the means with the end, but I'm not finding it, and that scares me too. I've lost that desperation that used to define me, and I know that it's saving me, but a part of me hates being saved.

The night feels dark today, and I feel everything but adequate.

2. I just had an epiphany. What the hell am I sitting here for and feeling sorry for myself?! I'm not a victim, and I'm not someone who needs to be pitied for things I personally imposed upon myself. And that's just the thing. It's so easy to sort your life out and make it exactly what you want you want it to be. Just shut your mouth and stop eating crap, do your work, dress the way you want, get a job, and work towards everything. Why is it that something so simple is so hard to realize?! Why do I get these urges to pity myself and console myself and feel miserable, and feel like the whole world is crashing down on me, when it's not? It's not hard to get what you want. And I've lost 20 pounds before, why can't I lose more? Of course I can, and it doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

You know what's funny? Just as I was having my little breakdown, feeling like an ogre and hating my whole world, no one in my life had any idea. No one knows what happens behind closed doors. And to my friends I am this funny, confident and not-so-ugly girl who must be living the dream. It amazes me how deceived we can be sometimes. And as I checked my facebook after writing my last post, my friend wrote something so sweet that I was just surprised at how different things are from what they seem. I asked whether I can bring my sister to a party he's throwing this weekend, and he wrote back saying 'only if she's as pretty as you'. I smiled and it felt so nice to be complimented, and then I realized how no one here actually knows about my insecurities. It would never even cross their minds to think how I could be sitting here and writing messages of hate to myself. So why not live up to the expectations?

I don't want to go back to a life of ED, and I won't, because the way that messes with your head is just terrible. The misery you feel every single day, it doesn't stop, it's this endless battle that you fight each moment, and the only way to win is to forfeit. I was lucky to get out alive once, and I don't want to take that chance again. Playing with fire never brings to anything good.

So here I am, sat in my room with a dim light in the corner, miles away from perfect, but just about to embark on a road trip precisely towards that. I'm thinking of a line from 'The importance of being Earnest', I hope I'm not perfect, that would leave no room for improvement. And I have so much room for just that. And I'm excited. Again. I know where I want to be, and soon I'll be there. No reason to panic.

So all in all, I apologise from the frantic panic attack, but I'm glad it didn't last long, and I knocked myself back into reality. Now I can focus.

Being a cheese

I love to travel but I hate to arrive

This weekend has felt more like a whole week passing! Oktoberfest was so much fun, but it has also been the most excruciatingly tiring weekend of my life! My body was actually in pain from the lack of sleep and very bad eating/drinking habits we acquired. We were up by 6am every morning and to top things off I caught a cold on the way to Munich so that was annoying! But it was definitely a great experience, and I'm so glad I went. Munich is beautiful, and I love exploring new places. I got back to Paris this morning at 6 am and pretty much spent the whole day in bed, recovering. I sort of feel like I need a vacation from my vacation right now! I missed all my classes today too since I was in no shape to go anywhere, but I have decided that it's time to take things more seriously now, and actually sort my life out, with naps not counting as a viable substitute!

Inside one of the tents at Oktoberfest

It's nice to be back, when I looked out the window and saw road signs for Place d'Italie and Bastille, I actually felt like I was finally home. This city is slowly becoming mine, and that feels wonderful. I remember after having lived in Madrid for two years, I still felt like a complete stranger to the place. I remember looking out the window one night as I drove through the city and feeling so entirely alienated and lonely in a city that was supposed to be my place, but it never really was. I guess the people make all the difference, and the people I have met here are amazing. And when I look back at who I was back then, I want to run back there and hug the younger me, and tell her that everything is going to be okay. I wonder if she'd believe me.

But anyway, right now, as always when I come back from somewhere, I feel like  starting anew, I feel motivated for everything fresh. A better lifestyle, more dedication to things that matter, and more beauty. I saw this picture of Lindsey Wixson today and I felt so inspired to work towards a better image. I'm not really a fan of hers, but I love her style in this photo, and I want to love my own too. But to be honest, it's harder than I imagined. I used to be so wrapped up inside the dieting world, I guess it comes with the disorder, that I was triggered by everything... a quote, a picture, a thought... But now it no longer works on me. I look at all these starving lifestyles and sayings along the lines of 'nothing tastes as good as skinny feels' and I find it so cruel, so thoughtless to treat yourself in such a screwed up way. I think that even if I wanted to, I wouldn't be able to do this the unhealthy way.

I really need to get some sleep now though, my sleep deprived body can take no more!

Face the facts of being what you are, for that is what changes what you are - (Kierkegaard )

Humanity is overrated.

I light a cigarette and stand by my window, looking out into the night. I see a man smoking  in the building across, and my friends words are on my mind. I just find it interesting to see at what particular moments people decide to smoke, as if there's some particular pattern. Is there? Is there really a puzzle behind every cigarette we choose to light?

I watched the pilot of House today since I ran out of ways to procrastinate. I know I said I was swearing that horrible thing off but bad habits die slow. And I have so many things to procrastinate from! I'm going to Munich tomorrow night for the weekend, to Oktoberfest. I'm pretty excited about it since I've never been before, and it's a great excuse to get out of the city and forget all about studying. And I've only ever been to Berlin in Germany, and what I remember most about that is how unbelievably cold it was. So I need to pack (which I haven't done) and I need to do all the work that is due in on monday (haven't done that either). But at least the dialogue in House is simply brilliant so I'd say it was worth it. I'm surprised I never watched this show before, but I felt like I'd seen enough medical dramas already.I love the fact that the main character isn't a hot hero type of guy, who rides in on his high horse to save the day with a hollywood smile. That makes the show so much better to me.

But anyway, I might attempt to get some work done now, since it's past midnight here and that's around the time I usually start getting things done. I'll end this with something from Dr. House himself: Humanity is overrated.

Running is the new eating.

My new motto! I want to look Parisian by the time my family comes to visit in two weeks, and Parisians are skinny and beautiful, so that's what I need to work towards! No time for lazy. I've never done this the healthy way before, but I am so excited to try!

Getting back in shape

OK, so it's time to get my ass onto a treadmill! Not literally, since gym's in Paris are insanely expensive, and I know myself too well to let myself waste money on a gym membership. The last two times I did that I ended up going twice, definitely worth the 1 year membership, right?
But all the french food has definitely done it's damage. When I first got here I was pleasantly surprised because I think I was actually losing weight, due to all the walking I was doing every single day. But now that I've gotten settled down, my lifestyle has become more lazy, and chinese takeaway has become a habit, and I am just moving my ass way less.
I don't have scales here yet, and I have been meaning to get some ever since I got here but a part of me has been hesitating. The dark lazy part that wants to eat and get away with it. But that's just not gonna fly anymore... I can tell by my clothes that I have put on weight, and that is an absolutely terrifying thought to me! There's nothing worse than feeling uncomfortable and overweight and hence starting to feel self-conscious again. I have lived with that feeling long enough and I'm not about to go back to it. So as of this very moment I am on a strict diet, meaning no bread, pasta, dessert, chinese, or anything that I love basically! Fruit and vegetables, and those in moderate quantities too. And jogging! I know a friend of mine jogs by the Seine sometimes so maybe I'll join her the next time, I imagine that would be a beautiful run.

A positive light

I think my cynicism is being misinterpreted for sadness. I never meant to make this a diary of depressed confessions, it's just documented thoughts mostly. I read the comments I got on my previous post though and apparently the impression I've left so far is that I'm going through a 'bad time' which I really am not.
I think I may generally be a writer who can't write 'happy'. I've never enjoyed it either. When it comes to writing, happiness has no substance for me, it's all about psychoanalysis and twisted musings. But that's the thing, I may write an entry about the endless meaninglessness of the world, but then I'll get up and have the greatest day with my friends. I've learnt to draw the line. Sometimes it seems like my life and the things I write about are completely separate, but it's because I've stopped letting myself immerse into what I write. I also think maybe party I've given this misleading perception because I'm being too honest. When I created this blog I decided this would be the one place where I wouldn't hold back on saying things, regardless of social taboo or embarrassment. But talking about a former eating disorder, for example, it doesn't affect me like it used you. I look down the path, wonder how I got there, but then I look forward, and the past stays right where it has to.
There's two sides to me, the emotional romantic who believes in all things beautiful, and then there's the cynical bitch who never see's anything in a positive light.
So anyway, given that I don't want to mislead anyone no further with this 'depressed' myth, I will do what 'Shades of Grey' suggested. A list of some things I love about my life. (See, there ARE some things that I actually enjoy about it! :))

The Seine 

First of all, I live in the most beautiful city in the world. I remember coming here last year and wishing I could move here. I wanted this more than anything else in the world. And now I've got it!

I love my college. I may complain about it a lot because it's so much work, and so little time to actually do it, but I love it. I love what I'm studying, and the opportunities I'm getting. And as hard as it is to do it all in French, I'm glad it is. It's about time I learnt the language once and for all!

Although it may seem like writing brings me down, I love having it. It's my therapy, and I cannot imagine going through life without having that outlet. I can safely say that it's one of the best things that has ever happened to me.

I'm relatively happy with where I am in terms of looks now too. I know there's still some miles to go but I am so much more confident and at peace with myself now than I was, say, a year ago, or 2, or 3, or even 5. I like feeling good.

And I really love the people that I have in my life. I have been so lucky with the friends I've made and having such a loving family. And with S, who may be far away and not really here at all, but that doesn't change things in the slightest. I will never regret him.

So hopefully now my life no longer seems too depressing and miserable, which it really isn't, I swear! It has its perks. And now it's time to go make something useful out of this day.

A world that runs on trust.

Has it ever occurred to you that the whole world runs on trust? Everything is presupposed... we trust that there will be a tomorrow, or a next week, or even a forty years from now. We trust that we won't be hit by a car on the way to work, that there won't be an earthquake that will end our life instantaneously in the next 30 seconds, that when we walk down the stairs we won't trip and break a leg. It just occurred to me as I walked down the stairs to class today, how we are basically just putting all our trust into the world, but really, it can let us down any second now.

My day in pictures

Story of my life, no pun intended.

Swearing off procrastination

Right now I'm in a state similar to that of having a really bad hangover and swearing off alcohol for the rest of your life. If only it was as easy as that though. I don't think I have mentioned before but I have excelled at the skill of procrastination, and I think there's nothing I do best that let valuable time pass me by when I have one million things that need to be done. It started off okay. I sat down to write this essay, doing research, noting things down, and then my friend came over. She brought a bottle of wine, because this is Paris, duh, and we decided to each have a glass whilst she'd help me on my essay. But things didn't go quite as planned. I ended up drunk from one glass of wine, and couldn't even concentrate in the slightest! I think it's due to the fact that all I had all day was fruit, since I've been craving them so much for over a week now! But either way, I was drunk! I didn't get back to work until around 8pm, but so far that's basically consisted of minor panic attack in front of my computer screen and cigarette breaks. So now I find myself sat completely clueless, at 00:30, with less than 7 hours until I have to be up, and this essay not even half way done. And I'm swearing off procrastination and promising to be a lot more responsible in the future... As if.
I'm completely exhausted but the amount of work I have to do for tomorrow is unimaginable. By this point, of course, I've decided to send all the work to hell, except this essay, which is assessed and must be handed in. Why did I waste so much time?! The amount of times I must have asked this question on nights just like this one.
I guess I'll go make myself another litre of coffee now, or two.

A beautiful sunday, and a shitload of work.

It's a beautiful day today in Paris. The sun is shining and the weather is fantastic. I went to the sunday market in the morning right by my house and bought some fruit, they had the nicest mangos! And then I found other things to distract myself with, anything to avoid writing this essay that's due in tomorrow in FRENCH.
I've been studying french for a few years now, and I'm doing it for my degree too, but ever since I moved here a little over a month ago, I feel like it's shit! Which is pretty crappy since I get graded on participation in class, something I feel like I cannot do, since I'm too self conscious about making a grammar mistake or pronouncing something terribly wrong and looking stupid. I have to get over it, I know, but that's easier said than done.
So anyway, now it's time to write my very first essay here, and I feel beyond lost and terrified to even start, hence I'm blogging.
It's time to start dieting hard core too. Kind of comes with the change of location. Paris is all about looking good, and you don't look good if you have any extra pounds, which I certainly do. But I have a bit of a messed up history with dieting. I was overweight for years, and I tried and tried to lose weight but my appetite always won over me. Until not that long ago, somewhere 6 to 9 months ago, I started developing an eating disorder. It started with fasting. It wasn't even planned, I just woke up one morning and decided to quit eating. Without any agenda I ended up on a 4 day fast, until I felt so weak I couldn't continue. But then fasting became this thing that I'd come back to pretty often. I'd attempt it, I'd fail, I'd attempt again.So my eating habits got pretty fucked up. It ended with me almost becoming bulimic. I say almost because I got out of it before it took over me. I lost a lot of weight, around 15lbs, in a really short period of time, not even a month! And then the summer saved me. I went home, and I stopped doing it. I didn't put any of the weight back on, because I was careful, I started watching what I ate, and I think anyone who has any experience with bulimia starts looking at food differently. There are foods that I can't come anywhere near since then actually, becomes even the sound of them only reminds me of their after taste after throwing them up. But I don't want to get into that really, this isn't going to be about that, at least I hope not. But regardless, I look back at me then and I was so unhappy, because food literally took over my life. It was the number 1 thing on my list. And they don't call it a disorder for nothing.  Now  I cannot imagine going back to that. That strength or weakness I had, or maybe desperation, to succumb to an eating disorder, it's gone. And I don't want it back because I've been so happy here. I still have a few pounds to lose, but I'm afraid to do it by unhealthy means, and I won't. It's not worth the price. I've just never been that good at healthy dieting. I hope it's never late to learn though.
Time to get cracking on this essay now, it's not going to write itself :( Time to remember all my french...

Making plans

I'm always very cautious with what I wish for, because I live by the principle that you might just get it all. I think my life is pretty good really, I've had a good education, and I'm still receiving it now, I have a good family (for the most of it), and I have some pretty awesome friends. But I guess what we have is never enough. What isn't enough in my life, I'd say, is the funds to be free. My dad screwed up big time years ago and we've sort of being paying the price ever since. I want to break free, I need to fend for myself really, I don't have a back up option or a safety net to fall back on. So basically once I graduate, I'm alone. If I want money, I have to go and earn it, and no one can help me out. No matter how bad it gets. That's okay I guess, if everything's granted to you on a silver plate you'll never know how to fight for your life, right? It's just a little annoying, that's all. And I love my family, but sometimes I wish they tried harder. My dad is pretty much out of the picture by now, I was raised by my mum, and although she's wonderful and I am beyond grateful for everything she gave me, I sometimes wish they were all somewhat different. I feel guilty even thinking this but I just feel out of place at times. I think of the ordinary dinners we have, and they're always so silent. There's just nothing to say, and I feel so bored in their company most times. There's no intellectual stimulation of any kind. And I'm a bad person for writing this and having the indecency to complain.
But all I want really is freedom, and the way to acquire that in my perspective, is by having money. I want to feel completely independent, owe nothing to no one, and know that if I feel like catching a place to Barbados in the morning, I can, because I worked for it, and I secured that right for myself. So although writing is something beautiful to me, and so deeply personal, I am not oblivious to how fluctuating a life it can be if you dedicate your life to words. I'm not sure if I'm willing to take that chance. Making a career for myself is my way out, so I need to stop putting things on hold and making excuses. I need to fight for survival.
I want to finish my degree with an excellent diploma, and then I want to somehow get a masters (God knows with what money right now!) and then I want to start working, and go up the career ladder until I'm high enough that no one can reach me. That's my plan.
And now I need to get some sleep, as much as I don't want to, because as soon as I'm asleep it's sunday and sunday's are not a good day. As a general rule they're the day when I have to get all the work done that I've avoided all weekend , and tomorrow will be no exception.

What the hell, I'll start a blog

I couldn't sleep last as I was trying to decide whether writing is worth it. I used to love it.l I still do, but it's different now I think. Before, writing was what I lived for. It consumed me completely and I was only myself when I was typing away. My great dream was to become a published author. I was obsessed with words.
I was looking at pieces I wrote yesterday, and I realized that all that time that I was writing, I was completely depressed. And all that misery I saw kind of scared the shit out of me. Because I want to keep writing, and I want to finish this book, which I have abandoned for months now, but I don't want to be sad. I moved to Paris a month ago, and I have been so happy here so far. And the thing is, once I start writing again, I change. When I'm writing I become a quiet person, I observe but I don't really participate in life, and everything turns sad as I try and give things a significance, and often fail. I don't want to turn this into a sad experience.
So is it worth it? If writing is what you do best, but you cannot do it any other way than through depression, is it best to quit? And live a happy life dedicated to other affairs? I never had a choice before, words were oxygen for me, and that makes me question whether I am being honest with myself. I am a poetic person, and I think through metaphors, and I believe in love, and I believe that I have met the one person I am meant to love, and I believe that he is the most beautiful person that has ever lived. But at the same time, I can be cold and cruel and completely out of touch with emotions. I'm two sides of the coin, one contradicting the other. But I'm not going to try and make an effort to be creative on this blog, nor am I going to attempt using beautiful words. This blog is me thinking out loud, that's the best description I can come up with. Some days it's me complaining, others questioning, and others dreaming. Just a window into the world where one person talks out loud. And it just so happens that tonight I'm questioning, are my words really worth it?