About late feelings

I feel like a fatty.

I don't like how anything fits me anymore.

I don't feel pretty no matter how much I try to look pretty.

I don't know what's wrong.

But I feel disgusting.

Nothing looks good on me anymore!

I need to lose 20 pounds.

Maybe more like 30 but 20 will do for now.

I think maybe going back to HCG would be the best thing to do.

I did lose weight while I was on it.

My Best Short Story

I'm really proud of this story.

I wrote it about a year ago but I just revised it and made it more understandable.

It's long so I'm attaching the link to go to the document.

WARNING 

It's deep and it could be disturbing to some people.

Consider yourself warned.

Feel free to give me feedback.

I would actually appreciate it a lot.

A LOT. A LOT.

Down In A Rabbit Hole

Thanks :)

My Don't Read. Seriously Don't Read.

You ignore warnings?

Right now I wish I had never ever met you!

My Question

Why are we even able to dream?

My Update

So...
I have ADHD, the inattentive type.
Yea.
Talk about having things wrong with me.

I hate American Heritage.
No matter how much I study I still do awful.
And it's lowing my self-esteem.

I never do so bad in school.
I'm scared.
I think I actually might fail.
Fail my first class at BYU.
And will have to retake it.
Because otherwise I won't graduate.

I hate this.

My Sad Post

Kaylee: Everyone's got somebody. Wash, tell me I'm pretty.
Wash: Were I unwed, I would take you in a manly fashion.
Kaylee: 'Cause I'm pretty?
Wash: 'Cause you're pretty.

But I am not even pretty. And I don't have anybody.

BTW

O, I love Rob Smith.

The end.

---- edit ----

Some people come into your life for
a reason, to change it and leave it.
You might be still around them but it is
not how it used to be, it's not the same. Never.
The worst is when you cannot let go and you know
you will never let go. You want their influence, or
maybe just having them was enough, but the truth
is that some people only come to be gone.
Some people have a purpose, only one.
Some people only come so you let go.
One of them I knew. He appeared
and left as silently as he came.
I will never know why or how
but one day it will all make sense.

Escaping The World part I

This is a free form essay I have decided to write. It's mainly for me. It helps me in the long run to read what I write.

Through the years I have noticed there are two things I love and always will. Books and TV. Why do I love them so much? Because they are my way of escaping. Escaping the world that I don't really love. My life is not perfect, it's pretty good and I'm usually happy but sometimes I just feel bad about it.

All I wanna do today is watch TV. This time I have chosen Gossip Girl. I like escaping, because when I don't like the world I live in, there's always a book or a TV show I can enter and be part of. A world that no matter how messed up it may be, I enjoy being a part of... because in the end, there's always a happy ending in store and I know it'll come.


To be continued...

Pretending

It's funny how you just try to pretend there's someone you don't care about but you actually do. Every day is a hassle. Every day is hurt. But I'm trying to keep myself going. Trying to pretend you don't exist... because I deeply hope you didn't.

Some things you shouldn't know... ever

I am sick. So I haven't been able to go skateboarding. I hate being sick.

I've been thinking about Dayan a lot. She is and always will be my best friend. I miss her like crazy, but this Christmas I'll finally be able to see her! After 2 years! I am very excited!

Stefani's been such a strength for me, in everything. She always makes me happy. I love her, she is amazing. I can't believe she'll be graduating soon, at least I know she'll stick around in Provo. I'm not ready to say goodbye to her.

I am just grateful for the amazing people I've gotten to meet this last year, specially at work. Sam and Spencer that know pretty much all about me and they can always make me laugh. Johnnie-pooh and Robbie-pooh. And Mitch.

A lot of things have happened. A lot of people don't like me. A lot of people think I'm weird. A lot of people pretend to like me. But I don't care. If I focus on the bad things in my life I'll always be sad. Everybody has crap going on, what matters is how you deal with it.

I guess I just want to say thanks to all of my friends that know the real me, with my good and bad things and they still like me, they are still there for me, they have enough patience to deal with my bad side.

I have been dealing with my bad side for a long time. I think I am almost there. I am proud of myself. I am proud of who I am. And if some people don't like it... too bad. I am happy, I am smart and I am a good person. I have my faults but I am a good person, I am a good friend.

If I haven't proven it, I'm sorry, maybe you aren't my friend either. Real friends are hard to find.

=)

Just

'Cause even if it breaks your heart to be just friends, if you really care about someone, you'll take the hit. - JD from Scrubs

I'm not going to school. I want to sleep and think (maybe not think) all day long.
I guess I knew it all along but I didn't want to accept it.
My eyes are closing.

No private screening

But I will never get you back, he said. And he was right. I am gone. Forever.
Actions come with consequences.
Once I chose to do something and I have to live with the outcome of my decision.
No regrets.
But I still don't know.

*

It's not a movie, no private screening
This method acting, well, I call that living
It's like a fountain, a door has opened
We have a problem with no solution but to love and to be loved
So, I've made peace with the falling leaves
I see their same fate in my own body
But I won't be frightened when I am awoken from this dream
And returned to that which gave birth to me

- Method Acting by Bright Eyes

*

Carreteras mojadas, nieblas heladas,
otra vez estoy manejando en la madrugada,
con el temor de ser, o lo que pueda ver,
seguire manejando el auto hasta la manana.
El miedo de verte me va rodeando,
te va separando de mi,
te va separando de mi.

- Carreteras Mojadas by Christian Meier

Embracing Riley

I am brokenhearted.

I hate my life.

What the freak is wrong with me?

No feelings. Just facts.

Wounds are easy to be reopened, even if a lot of time has passed. And they hurt, as much as they did when they were first inflicted.

I am unsure. Of everything. My major. My job. My friends. My life. Myself.

My medication has changed. I am not feeling better at all. I have heard it can take up to a month to see the changes, and I have only been on the medication for 2 weeks. On the previous one, that is. I started taking a new one yesterday.

I am going to Peru. Against all odds, I actually am excited. I wonder how my baby sister looks, maybe she is taller than me now. My dad has promised to start my treatment as soon as I get there. In 4 short months I will be pretty again. That is exciting.

Running away from the hot summer in Provo is also a plus. It will be winter in Peru when I get there. I need to buy my plane ticket. Soon.

Thursday is probably my favorite day of the week. If not for Friday. I know. Pathetic.

My English teacher says he likes my writing style. He says I have a fresh voice and that I can communicate and give a view of a different aspect of human relationships. I am pretty sure that was his way of saying I am an interesting person - meaning I am weird. This is the introduction of my personal essay I turned in yesterday.

Help, now there is an ugly word. There is nothing that can offend me more than the word help. I hate – note the word choice – asking for help. I don’t mind helping others; in fact, I enjoy helping someone in need, but I feel it is a sign of weakness – and this is just related to me – when I see myself in need of asking for help. Ayuda. It even sounds bad in Spanish.

Help, whenever someone asks me if I need it, I feel the need to slap him or her on the head with a big, nice frying pan – and I do, in my mind. Once the slapping is over – in my mind, that is – I say “no” politely and nobody’s feelings are hurt. Sometimes, I prefer to fail on my own than to succeed while using someone’s help as a crutch. And, by the way, I hate teamwork. That is why I want to be a computer programmer. My computer and I will be together forever. Alone. No people. No hands messing with my code, until it is finished and working. Any success or failure, that can be claimed to be entirely my own makes me who I am.

Yeah. He definitely thinks I am weird.

Tu me manques déjà...

Feelings are funny. You can't control them. When they happen, they happen. And once you admit they exist, there is no coming back.
I guess I have just had a lot of time to think, a lot of time alone in my empty apartment watching Desperate Housewives and wishing Mike and Susan's story was mine.
When you have a lot of time in your hands, it is difficult not to let your mind drift away, and go to forbidden places, places where it is not supposed to wander off.

Tu me manques. Je m'ennuie de ton sourire et de l'son de ton voix. J'ai besoin de toi ici. Je t'veux ici. J'espère que tu t'ennuies de moi autant que je m'ennuie de toi. Où est-ce que tu es? Revenu s'il te plaît.

I don't think I can keep my promise much longer.

All I needed was a call

I have realized that everything I want, everything I lay my eyes on, everything my heart longs for, slips away from my hands. I try so hard to prove a point, to show that I am good enough for anything that comes my way, but apparently I have just been fooling myself.

In moments like this, I hate being a Latino. I will keep saying I am from Provo, I will keep shunning Spanish and getting my accent worse and worse every single day. One day, I will feel American. One day, people will believe I am American.

I think I am scared of happiness. I don't want it, because I don't deserve it. But life - or God - I don't even know, keeps playing chess and moving me around like a pawn. But no knight, no bishop, no one seems to be able to get me out of the game. It's like I am being protected to checkmate the King but then I think and I know in my head that the King could destroy me, yet the chess player is preserving me, the weakest of all the pieces. What does He see in me that I don't?

"In the end everyone ends up alone
Losing her, the only one who’s ever known
Who I am, who I’m not, who I want to be
No way to know how long she will be next to me"