Two Princes

At this point in my silly little life I'd say I spend a good 70% of the time thinking hey i'm alright. Whatever life throws at me, I can take.
Whatever someone needs, I can give.
Those times I've thought, 'god i've gotten so dumb; i don't read anymore, rarely write, make grammatical errors and am too lazy or stupid to fix them or even care...' whatever this is already going somewhere stupid.

The point is, most days I think I'm pretty great. I don't lie, don't cheat, I'm good to people..better than is good for me sometimes, which I'm ok with because every time I get hurt I learn and get stronger. My conscience is clear and it feels good.
i say i hate people sometimes.
i care about people.
if they are shit people i try to understand how they got this way. it may not have been wholly their choice.
if i love or care about you, you never have to worry because i'll do anything to fix your worries or help you with what you need.
i have become fearless. i never lived in fear, but the more i go through the more fearless i become. and i think that's better than living afraid because you know something bad will happen. am i waiting for the other shoe to drop? always. there's always another shoe. and sometimes it rains shoes. to me, this has become all the more reason to live fiercely unafraid.

and laugh at yourself

climb the highest mountain.
see everything.
do everything.
get hurt.
don't hold back.
let em see you. they love you.
they love you!
i never thought i'd be loved in the way that i am.
beloved by almost all.
i'll take almost.

the dream with the guitar with no strings (that's for another day)


anyway that's 70% of the time...maybe. maybe even more. but the remaining percentage...when I have those days where i just hate myself for no good reason but can't shake the feeling? it feels like 100% and makes me question what progress i've really made. but i know i have, so it's ok hahaha. the rationalization for undeserved self-deprecation. hilarious.

rainy memory lane day

MGH over the water
19 20 21 22
so much undone
so much unclear
nothing left unsaid

the cautious girl threw caution to the wind
and it came back, hit her in the face
boomerang
so fast so quick so much
so so much

i learned so much from that girl
thank you, girl, thank you

a present clarity

we both know i'm not what you need and i can't quit you baby

every one of you have a piece of my heart; some have bigger pieces than others, but those pieces have shaped a beautiful loving heart that can never stop giving. I don't care if I drop dead from a heart attack-ack-ack-ack-ack, it will have all been worth it. I've loved some with half a heart, some with a broken heart, others fiercely and intensely with the whole damn thing. To the last ones, you know who you are because I begged and pleaded and cried and cried. It took me years to be at peace over some of those loves, but you still have some of me. always will.

this may seem unrelated and it may be! at least partially.
i tend to think i am boring. lazy. that i let myself miss out on things. then i look at others. then i look inside myself and don't think that anymore. we all prioritize and do what is important to us, and i'm no exception. i don't regret the life i've lived, and i wouldn't have it any other way. sometimes it takes an outside perspective - someone saying 'you don't give yourself enough credit' 'i wish i had your life' 'i wish i could do what you do' 'look at what you've accomplished.' I brush these comments off regularly, but there are days like this one where i appreciate the sentiment of each of those statements, and THANK YOU to those of you who have taken the time to appreciate me enough to say them.

i am not outwardly intense, but inside i'm a goddamn hurricane. i've used this force for good - only wished bad on one person my whole life, and i know he'll never get his. everyone else who's told me 'no,' who's broken my heart, who's wished me ill, who's treated me badly - i may not wish you the best, but i want nothing bad for anyone. that first and only time i wished bad on someone was so weird for me because as much as i pushed away my slightly Catholic upbringing, there are some things that are hard to shake. even now, so far removed from my childhood, i feel it so wrong to wish bad things on anyone, no matter how shitty they are to you, no matter how evil they are.
my conscience is clear.

and clarity is where i live now.

hello blogspot my old friend

i've come to say i'm here again
and for how long i dooon't know
and why i write this i dooon't know

and the sign flashed out its warning

ok that's from the real song and i'm no Paul Simon and you are no Lester Bangs, so let's get on with it.

I've started writing again; one I'd like to finish but I'm afraid of it because I started it as a different person - as a girl really and I am just not her anymore. She can be accessed though; I just think it will take years off my life to go back in time like that, you know? Probably not because that probably doesn't make sense.
ahhhhhhh but it does

The other one I have to start and finish and no excuses that's it amanda.
My birthday, which was a couple weeks ago, marked 10 years that I've lived in New York. I signed my first lease in Bay Ridge, 2009. God 2009, you were awful. And I was awful in 2009. It's when I began to be awful. Awful in a different way than I had been. But it was that ugliness that grew a beauty within, and for that I treasure every goddamn awful moment. Thank you awful new york thank you awful hard living.

You've made me nearly indestructible and I can't hate you for that, Heat and Hot Water Included.

Is This It

so i'm stuck at home because this guy jumped off a building and his blood that ran with HIV and the hepatitis alphabet got on my face and in my mouth. The cocktail isn't as bad as it used to be, people keep telling me. I've had no side effects really, so basically I just don't have to go to work until after the 30th when I go back to the Department doctor.

The whole story is quite odd.

He was 65 - jumped from the 4th floor of a nursing home.

I could describe it further, but I'll save that for not the Internet. Besides, I think the basics say a lot on their own. Since I know no more, all that's left is in the imagination. How did he break the window? What did it look like? Were other people in the room? What happened in the 15 minutes before? Why? Why did he decide to jump? How many friends and family did he leave behind? Did they know this was a possibility?

These are things I'll never know, and with time what I have imagined will become increasingly less clear. Like any death, most of its details become lost and only the fact itself remains. And isn't this for the best? The details are part of dying, but are so unromantic in reality. They are raw and off-putting and sometimes shocking. This is for the best.

This isn't even what I intended to write about, but it's what happened.

walking is still honest

I want you to know my creative mind
I want to speak to you in the tongues that reach me
I would love for you to understand, but have no romantic expectations
I want you to see beauty, hear it
the way I do
but not in my way
i want you to experience beauty
in your way
i just want you to feel that

is it fog or is it rain or mist
how could the bronx be so still
i am the only movement
walking up the middle of Decatur
cone shaped meta-prisms below street lamps
mark the length of the street
there is no one
from where it begins to where it ends
i'm just going to by ice cream
but now i want to see where it ends

and so i walk

Letters to the Universe

They had nothing for me to do at work last night, so I laid on the futon in the girl's locker room and fell asleep. Once asleep, I began to dream.




I dreamt it was you and me and old friends and new lovers
it was you and me:
old friends, no longer lovers.
and it was so nice
it was oh so nice.
to see that elusive smile again
to be together in front of everyone, feel not devious,
not subversive
just happy.
everyone happy.
what a dream that would be.

I Want to Rock Your Gypsy Soul

I sit here alone in my apartment at 4:53 in the morning finishing off a bag of salt and vinegar chips and drinking coke out of a mug because I can. Because no one is watching and the only people who can think anything of it are the ones who will read this and by then it will be too late and there will be nothing they can say to change my behavior or make me feel guilty for it.

I am 31 years old. I haven't perfected living, and know I never will. I think sometimes that I am immature for my age...that I am somehow stunted and incorrect. That I should have a husband and children by now - I should wear heels to work and be a mother. Be a caretaker, a teacher, a comfort, and a disciplinarian. I shouldn't worry about acting immature because i shouldn't be doing it. I shouldn't be eating like a slob at 5am at all. If I wasn't doing it I wouldn't have to worry about someone telling me don't do it
don't do it
stop doing it
grow up
you're too old for this
I don't know if there is any efficacy to either way of thinking or if both sides have their merits. All it dictates really is who you get along with, who you can relate to. Are you a disciplined, respected adult? Are you a 5am unhealthy slob who just wants to be left alone? And all the combinations and permutations of traits and tics we have. And we have so much.
No matter how little our pockets hold our minds are full.
Sometimes it's thunder
sometimes it's overcast
foggy
hazy
sunny
But sometimes it's summer's heat lightning coming from all corners of the dark night sky to interweave and connect, culminating in a burst of beauty that cannot be ignored.

I wonder what I'm doing here; I wonder what I'm doing on earth, in life, in the Bronx, at my job, in school - I wonder what I'm doing eating junk food at 5:16am on a Friday morning. I wonder if I do any of these things for a purpose, and if so how many? How many serve a long term goal? How many serve only as an escape from the rest?

I wonder for what I am searching.
I wonder if I am searching at all.
Then I decide: I am sure I am searching for something, and not because I have an idea of what it is, but because I have an eternal restlessness within me that will not be quelled.

Mistakes?

the first time
i said 21 and defiant
i'm not happy, i'm done
i'm crazy and can do whatever i want and you'll still want me
you'll still take me back you love me and i know it
i was impatient
i wanted to have everything i wanted when i wanted it
i expected it
and not from life experience...just from you.
and when i came back and said
i'm sorry i love you i made a mistake
you said i'm sorry i can't, i won't.
and if you had, would you have cheated on me anyway?

when people ask about my relationships i tend to brush that one off. 'oh it was just silly. a friend from high school, it only lasted 5 months and we were never in the same city.' but it wasn't silly. i always had my 'cool girl attitude' but i was in it. i was so in it i didn't even know. i acted tough and untouchable, but it took me a year to recover even a little. over something so silly, right?

and i can't help but wonder if i'm making the same thing now.

at once i was beautiful and mysterious
i am now a large-print book open
ready
waiting
READ ME

So why? Confidence lost...desperation?
it's ok amanda you've never known you've never thought you were anything

5-5-5-5

heartbreak on heartbreak on heartbreak
the others seem so frivolous now
but they are my life
and life is fucking precious
fucking fleeting
must cherish even the silliest of things
ex-boyfriends and old crushes, flames extinguished

it's all ok. it's ok to feel and it's ok to let go. it's ok to care and it's ok to care too much. everything is ok. more than ok, everything is to be thankful for - even when it hurts. it's ok to feel. feeling is human and it's ok it's ok we all do it stop pretending we don't have to be unfeeling robots, we don't have to be tough. you don't have to be tough amanda you don't have to be tough and stop apologizing for being soft. those moments of softness are beautiful meaningful moments (and god i don't care that i sound like someone i'd tell to shut the fuck up) to be celebrated. i am a human that cares for other humans and i know i'm never going to be number 1 on my list of priorities. that's me and that's it. anyone who has ever called me selfish and caused me to question that part of myself: i forgive you for you couldn't have meant it. i care for you and i care what you think of me. i care if you love me, i care if you think i'm beautiful, i care if you think i'm kind and smart and generous. i care and i have time for your shit, always have time for this shit. and i do need this. and i will continue to take the abuse because it's worth it to me.


girl, you were always an angel.

Lessons Learned

I'll never forget the day. It was a day not so unlike today. Thank you for picking me up. I can't remember a time I've been more happy to see anyone in my life. 

I guess it doesn't pay to be coy or play it cool.

holes in the lace

I'm definitely dying inside.
I just want to say I'm so sorry to anyone I ever made feel this way.
I'm so sorry.
my insides have turned to sludge and are sliding down the walls of the hollow cave that is my torso.
Nothing was spared, nothing was spared.
You obliterated my entire being
but you didn't do it alone

there was a time not so long ago that I could have rolled with every single one of these punches,
but now I just take the hits. over and over and over and over. crimson and clover.

you've all claimed to love me. what does your love mean if it doesn't last a lifetime? you all think I'm tough and don't feel these things. but when i told you i loved you, it means i'll always love you although the movements may change. Yes I'm tough, but I used to be tougher. I used to say 'oh well if that's how it is...fuck you.' and i used to WALK AWAY. why is it so hard to walk now?

WHY DO I DWELL? Don't i have enough in my life to keep me from dwelling on someone who clearly doesn't give a shit about me? I do, so why do i MAKE TIME? Well no more of that, no more of that.

Procrastination Paralysis

Hello hi here I am yet another year older still doing the same shit. I had a school breakthrough in 2014 and excelled MASSIVELYYYY, but i'm back to my old tricks so what's up last minute cutie i don't wanna study i don't wanna.

I'm actually terrified of getting less than an A in anything. Who am I?? Also it feels totally possible to get an A in all my classes but I'm choosing to freak out and stare at the wall instead.

écrasez l'infâme

just it. écrasez l'infâme, s'il vous plaît. por favor
drillbits
chowder
sequins yes please

the way it was and the way it used to be
the way it is
the way it is
is is now it's now let's make it now

whole lot of bergs

Happy New Year to Me

You're not fucking better than me.

Find someone better than me you fucking loser.
Good fucking luck.

Back in the New York Groove

I'm back! You know I was never gone, but this journal is the least of my worries, and no one is reading it anyway...literally NO ONE. Maybe when I die someone will find this. Do I want them to?

I've been thinking a lot lately about the things I wouldn't want people to find or know about me if I was found dead. It sounds morbid, but maybe it is and maybe I am. These are real concerns, though, people!! Your facebook account isn't going to just disappear when whoever runs facebook now is alerted of the news of your death; someone very close to you is going to have to delete it, and depending on who they are...they may look through it, they may not. Also if your death was suspicious, I've learned from TV that the police are going to look through it.

I have like 50 different journals going right now. To read it would KILL the people around me. I have a few people I talk to IRL (trying to stay young so I don't lose touch with the millenz...although I may want to) that are always there for me, and I them. Sometimes it's just not enough...or texting doesn't cut it, or hey! a couple people recently just cut you out of their lives completely. One cut me without an explanation or any words at all, not that we talked often but it still hurts. I dropped the other. Two years ago...I thought it was for the best. Then we began talking again maybe 9-10 months later and I realized how much I missed you...how much I loved having you around. Off and on for the next year we had great times and a couple bad ones, but generally I thought things were good. Then you tell me you're depressed and have to figure you're shit out because you feel like your life is falling apart and you have to get back to YOU. Ok...I get that...I understand that. But we can't keep this up, Amanda. It's not good for either of us, Amanda. We need to stop this so we can both find a person who's right for each of us. yeah well fuck you.

I don't regret the old stuff, and maybe someone I used to be would feel used or embarrassed, but I just want it back. I am so frustrated, but am also mostly ok. it's taken almost a month but i'm pretty much ok bye

life and crimes

What has happened to my life?
The more love I give, the less I receive.
I thought it was important to love
and to let your love be known to others
it's only fair, right?
It's only right.

Now all I get is hate.
Hate and indifference,
the latter of which is so so so much worse.

dreaming with a broken heart

Well I'm watching 30 Rock. That's never a good thing. But I am thankful for it.