*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.

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!