I’m in love with him… but instead of accepting the fact that the feeling isn’t mutual, I feel challenged to pursue him even more. The more he pushes me away, the harder I try. Similar to the way he chased the girl before me when she brushed him off in the same way he shrugged his shoulders at me. With the same disinterested look I give the guy who’s pursuing my heart. Who’s probably also dismissing whoever wants him. It’s one big vicious cycle. Everyone involved wanting what we can not have. Why? Why must we become so intrigued by what’s unattainable to us? Why does the forbidden fruit seem that enticing? Perhaps it’s because relationships at this age are nothing short of huge ego trips.

The fact that someone was genuinely not interested in me was such a direct stab at my own self-worth and pride that when rejected, I felt the need to prove to him that I was worthy. I’m loyal, charismatic, loving, laid back, easy on the eyes and any man who can’t see that must be crazy. When actually faced with this man and his nonchalance towards what I felt for him, my identity was insulted and bruised. ‘What’s wrong with ME?’, I’d ask myself. I thought if only he spent more time with me, he’d realize what a great catch I am. If only given the chance to love him enough, I could make him love me back. So I forced all of that upon him but instead of appreciating the way I loved him, it only smothered him to a point where we couldn’t even end amicably.

Even worse than being on bad terms, the relationship left me feeling very drained and insecure. Though he never demeaned me himself, chasing someone who isn’t effortlessly into you is degrading. Constantly wondering ‘What’s wrong with me?’ caused me to search for the answer myself. I’d look for flaws within my personality and appearance that just may be the reason I wasn’t good enough for him. I ended up despising things about me I never even noticed before. I became the living, breathing version of TLC’s song, ‘Unpretty‘. I still am. Forcing a relationship with someone else potentially destroyed the relationship I have with me.

*thanks to Joyce for helping me come to this revelation & inspiring this post. ilu.

I never can admit that I’m wrong; ever. Mostly because I don’t believe that I’m ever wrong but on the off chance that I am, I’m incredibly manipulative enough to twist and turn the situation until you believe I’m right. I could convince you the sky was red if I wanted. I spent my entire teenage years playing the diplomatic girl who seemed to manage to stay friends with everyone amidst all the drama when in reality, I was the one starting it all. I’ve also always been exceptionally good at making people feel subordinate because I believe I’m so fucking above everyone else. The music I listen to is the best, the food I eat is the best, the clubs I go to are the best, the books I read are the best and anything contrary to this is by some means beneath me. I’m so beautiful, well-rounded, intelligent, passionate and everyone else needs to step their game up or “get on my level”. Ironically, I hate pretentious people.

I’ve been ‘the other woman’ before. I was just young, dumb and full of cum. It was a mistake, but not a drunken one night mistake, a long two year mistake that I’ll forever regret. I’m far too available to men. Particularly, emotionally unavailable men. I am, by no means, easy… but when I like someone, I give them my all. Possibly why no one wants me; nobody wants something they don’t have to earn. I don’t make friends easily, only because I find most people too be completely moronic but even when I do make some, I don’t keep them. I haven’t called my “best friend” in nearly a year. My biggest fear is that I won’t live up to my potential and yet I continue to let opportunities pass me by. I am so lazy and such a wasted talent. I’m very envious, not of what I can’t have, but mostly what I know I am capable of. These are my confessions. I’ve never seen them fully written, staring so contemptuously back at me. I’m validating them, making them real by writing them down and acknowledging that I need to change in order for myself to grow.

There’s this false sense of self-righteousness bloggers tend to feel because so many of our loyal readers jump to our defense and agree w/ everything we say. I’m not implying that our avid readers are “brainwashed” but since they’re drawn to our small space on the web, they probably share many common interests with us and therefore a lot of the same opinions. That’s the flaw in this particular form of self-expression. Bias. It’s nearly impossible to have a progressive debate on any site when the general consensus of whatever the topic is will always lean towards the bloggers argument. It prevents us from taking constructive criticism and growing from it and we lack the ability to consider another point of view which I think is a flaw. So we walk around with our nose in the air because everytime someone dared to disagree with us, we had a bunch of cheerleaders backing us up and therefore we must be right, we must be perfect… Well I’m not perfect and I’d rather not continue on without recognizing there’s things that I need to change to be a better person…

So what are your flaws? What are some things you’d like to change about yourself? What’s some things you think I need to change about myself? And remember, there’s a difference between constructive criticism and being a douchebag.

I know you guys are patiently waiting for me to write something profound and obscure about love, growth and relationships like the good old days, and eventually, I will.  Just not today.  There just isn’t anyone in my life right now that evokes that kind of emotion to stir up enough passion within me to write. And quite frankly, a relationship is last on my priority list at this point in my life and merely means having someone to share pregnancy scares with. Not my cup of tea. I have bigger things to worry about…

As I browse the internet, I can’t help but wish the biggest problem in my life was my significant other, a frilly four letter word, or what color I’m going to paint my nails tonight. That’s not to imply that any of your problems are less important than mine, I just wish they were mine. I hate that the biggest thing on my mind is where I’m going to be living next week, (I’m honestly not sure yet), how I’m going to eat, etc. I know a lot of you complain about your parents, and I’m sure it IS difficult, but man, I’d KILL to have parents that allow me to live rent free as I go to school and work. That’s just so amazing. I’m def going to make sure my kids have that luxury before I even have any.

Being whimsical about life and couch surfing is fun at times. It always reminds me of what Jack said in Titanic – I mean, I love waking up in the morning not knowing what’s gonna happen or, who I’m gonna meet, where I’m gonna wind up. Just the other night I was sleeping under a bridge and now here I am on the grandest ship in the world having champagne with you fine people. I figure life’s a gift and I don’t intend on wasting it. You don’t know what hand you’re gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you… to make each day count. – And that’s exactly how I feel most times. Down to a tee.

But other times, it’s such a burden. My nomadic nature caused me to have extensive experience in making and losing friends. I keep emotions and friendships very detached.  I can just as easily walk out of your life if I’ve known you 10 years or 10 days. I attach myself to no one. Which is possibly why I’ll end up alone.

Not to mention the countless clothes, shoes, and belongings I lose from moving around so much. I need clothes!

“The time has come,” the Walrus said “To talk of many things: Of shoes–and ships–and sealing-wax– Of cabbages–and kings.” … No seriously, the time has come for a New Year and growth. Not change; because change insinuates you can change back. You can never grow smaller though. And for the love of God, please feel free to save your trendy “you can make a resolution any day of the year” for the next blogger, Captain Obvious. I can’t hate on 2009 the way I was sticking my middle finger up at 2008 this time last year, because although my situation hasn’t gotten much better; this year has been full of self-discovery. I’ve learned so much about who I am, what I want and what’s important to me. I still have a long way to go, but I’ve come a long way too. I know what I like and dislike about myself and therefore, know what I’d like to work on. Most of my resolutions, I refuse to broadcast publicly, but here goes some of the basic ones…

Allow my creativity to flourish. As a kid, I had such a passion to explore and discover and create. I would have an idea or vision and act on it immediately. I was writing poetry, drawing, inventing and just sharpening my imagination daily. Then the internet and television took over my life and then I had more superficial shit to do on those rainy days, like spruce up my myspace or catch a Laguna Beach marathon than perfecting my artistry. Eventually that ingenuity and originality will fade completely so I have to catch it while I still have the chance.

Learn. I also used to be a complete bookworm. I was one of the few kids in the class thrilled to go to the library and devoured any literature I could get my hands on. I was like a sponge soaking up knowledge. But as you get older, that desire to see everything and know everything startes to vanish and before you know it, you’re so stuck in your beliefs that you’re unable to even consider others. And since being open-minded is my forte, I just can’t allow that to happen ;]

Be more sociable. So I stole this one? Sue me. Being such a fan of “social” media and NYnight life does not mean that I’m actually a sociable person. In fact, if the social setting is not a club or lounge in the city, you’ll probably find my face buried in my blackberry acting like a complete elitist because I’m a New Yorker…and soooooo above anything else :\ I don’t intentionally act this way, it just happens. I’d like to work on mastering the “art” of keeping in touch and keeping up on what’s going on with my friends and acquaintances.

Separate private life and public life. It never occurs to me that I’m being way too open on the internet until some stranger throws everything in my face like ‘omg that’s why you’re poor, your dopefiend parents don’t want you and you’re dying!’ I need to work on keeping the personal stuff personal and censoring myself. Not only am I giving people ammo for this ‘shit to use against Alexis’ file in their brains, they’re perception of me is always way off. Clearly, I’m not on twitter when I’m having a superb time saying how much fun I’m having because, uh…maybe I’m enjoying life or something crazy like that. I rans when I’ve just received bad news or I need to vent. I guess this makes it seem like all I do is complain. But in reality, I appreciate every stupid little moment of my life a lot more than the average person. I find beauty in every taste, smell, or experience I encounter. People have even gone as far as to call me suicidal. Me?! Yes ME! The same chick who is terrified of death. As if I could ever end my life! I’m far too curious to even consider it.

Oh & no soda, slim down, take more pictures and and less drugs. Bye.

You’know, even with all the blank stares I’d get all my life when ppl asked what I wanted to do that I’d respond with a simple ‘art’, it never occured to me, not even for a split second, that maybe, it just wouldn’t happen. I look at my father, in all his genuis and can’t help but wonder what his aspirations were at my age, and if he had the slightest clue that it’d never end up that way. I see all these drug addicts in my neighborhood headed nowhere fast and I just know they never foresaw this as their future. As much as people love taunting them for supposedly “choosing” this lifestyle, let’s face it, no child sat there and said ‘hey! when I grow up, I want to be a crackhead’. Nobody plans to be a fuck-up. Life happens. And I wonder if it’s happening to me and maybe I just don’t know it. Because that once confident and certain answer to what I wanted to with the rest of my life ‘art.’ has now turned into a doubtful and shy ‘art?’…

I guess in some way or another, we’re all dependant on someone or something to give us incentive to keep pushing. A lot of folks lean on the love of a parent, a friend, or significant other to help them get by. Some people rely on the stability they’ve gotten so used to and fear stepping outside of their comfort zones. But me? I don’t have any of that. All I ever had to cling to was my dreams. I’ve always been a big dreamer. My family always mocked me with ‘Alexis lives in a fantasy world’ because there was a point in my childhood where you couldn’t keep me from writing stories or poems, drawing, putting on shows or just creating something new everyday. They unsuccessfully tried to make me ashamed of who I was. They would’ve preferred if I was a star athlete, an outstanding student, or something they could brag about to all their friends and be proud of. But I still embraced my imagination and creativity and always knew that those were the things that were going to make me something big one day. I just knew it. With an utmost conviction that only little girls have.

Except, mine lasted well into my adult-hood. I never made a ‘back-up plan’ or ‘plan b’ because I was so sure that whichever one of my artistic ventures I decided to pursue, I’d excel. But recently, ambiguity has crept into my soul like a plague. As I start watching all my friends graduate college and start careers, I start to wonder if I should’ve chosen a field that guaranteed a job? As I watch every member of my family raise their eyebrows with doubt when I try to go on casting calls, I wonder if I’m not as talented as I think I am? I mean, there has to be a reason that the people who are closest to me don’t believe in me and refuse to support me, right? Maybe I should take the safe route and go to school to become a nurse or devote my life to working in the casinos? And maybe I will.

However, I can’t shake this fear that I’ll never live up to my potential. I doubt I’ll ever stop chasing my dreams no matter how ‘unrealistic’ they may seem because they are such a major part of me. My dreams are all I have. If I give up on them, I give up a part of me. Without my dreams, my soul is empty. Sure, it’s a risk. What if it all goes horribly wrong and I end up just another fuck up? Ahhh..but what if it doesn’t?  And that’s a ‘what if’ I just can’t live with. I just imagine what my future could be, ideal in every respect; & then I’ll work every day toward that distant vision, that goal, that purpose…

And just so this isn’t all words, peep how long and lovely my natural hair is getting!