Cliche

"Are you ok?"

"Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time, and it reminds us to tell each other right now that we love each other."

You're great.

Upper East Side

"The trunk is filled with records, and books and tears and clothes.

I'm smiling on the surface, but I'm scared as hell below..."

Drive darling, drive darling, drive.

Hey. Whoa.

"Don't go slow - you'll miss all the things you need"

Sometimes I wish that my brain would move as quickly as other peoples' do, and I could stop digging so deeply into every thought. But then I wonder - what do people do with all the extra time that I spend thinking each thing over so many times?

"I have always struggled with vulnerability. I like being strong; I've always had to be strong, and I have associated vulnerability with weakness for as long as I can remember. Of course in everyday life, it would be difficult for people to know this. I am seen as someone who is quite open and outgoing, at least to the extent that my demeanor is not mistaken for being a cold, unapproachable bitch. After all, I'm also seen as someone who is known for being blunt; the quintessential, "what you see is what you get" person.

Perhaps it's through writing, perhaps it's through getting older, but ultimately I've realized that I'm a really hard person to get to know. And very few people know even the half of it. I'm guarded and I don't break easily; no matter how close I am to people, I know that most of them are still kept at a distance that is comfortable, a distance that won't leave me exposed. I do not like to be vulnerable."

Sometimes I just want to go home.

"We regret to inform you..."

Eet - the button on a typewriter that allowed someone to return to where the previous letter was and type over it.

It's not that I regret a minute of the time I spent on this. It's not that I regret any of the choices I made, the things I did or the people I met. The only part of this that I regret is that I wasn't good enough.

I guess the truth is that I have nothing new to say here, besides that it's over. Hours of work, hours of complaints, hours of edits, and countless tears. What I put everyone around me through, needlessly (usually this hurts more to think about than the work I went through myself). Maybe I'm just not going to ever measure up to this.

It's not that I've never dealt with failure. I'm used to it by now; I have a good sense of what a rejection letter looks like... and I have an even better sense of what it looks like on other people's faces. The pity, the disdain, the concern - some of it good hearted, others not. Even worse is what it morphs into inside my head: I'm not good enough. I'm no longer worthy. They now know just how fallible I am.

There aren't any words that make this better. In fact, space and time is all it takes. Space to realize my own self sufficiency - to realize that I don't need to be taken care of, that I'm not a child, and that I can succeed on my own in at least the simple things in life. Time to see the other parts of my life that disprove my own theory of insufficiency. Time to let the sting fade away.

"It's like forgetting the words to your favorite song
you cant believe it - you were always singing along.
It was so simple, and the words so sweet - you can't remember...you try to feel the beat..."

I'm only gettin' better

"When everyone else is more comfortable remaining voiceless
Rather than fighting for humans that have had their rights stolen."

I will finish this. and I will be proud of it.

love is patient, love is kind.

no title