Category Archive

i don’t write for anyone. only myself.
normally my thoughts are never directed at one person or situation. i mix everything up, so that its more abstract then anything.
the love of my life always refers to anyone. not someone in particular.
i dont write because i know a certain someone will read it, and it’s a way of communicating… i write because it’s what i’m feeling.
i don’t try and have communication over blogs.
thousands of people read this, i don’t know if it’s been one person a thousand times over, or if it is a thousand people one time.
if i’m happy, i probably won’t be writing.
i dont comment back to anyone, cuz i often times have nothing to say. i’m bad at that.
i love words. i hate people. and those that love me. you’re sweet.

i wrote this because someone asked me today if i wrote about him in an entry. the truth is, i might have, but he was probably three people in one. thats the beauty of writing. you can say whatever you want. and thats the beauty of people. always thinking this one is about them.

whatever it is, i don’t know.

during the day, my dad sits in the next room talking in his blackberry on conference calls. i tell him to get an iphone, so i can play with it. he doesn’t hear me. he is not a multi-tasker. my dad works hard for his money. he describes his job as making money for everyone else. after he interests the companies into buying his product, the salesmen sell it and take the paycheck. and to think if he never knocked up his girlfriend, his fifteen year plan into retirement might have actually happened.

i sometimes i wonder if my dad is happy. he has his days. kind of like these other people i know.

she’s twenty-five or so, she works as a resturant manager in the northwest suburbs of chicago. she will tell you that she thinks she deserves more money than what she is given. she thinks she is a good leader, if only because she knows how to raise her voice. she likes the idea of woman in leadership. she would vote for hillary, but would never check to see if she actually agrees with her as a candidate. she is a feminist, because thats what she thinks will take her mind off how lonely she is. she hates her job. she hates being small. she hates her life. but somehow it is what she wants, and it is what she will get, because she hasn’t tried to leave it. you don’t buy a condo in the suburbs as a single woman, unless you are trying to prove your independence, yet at the same time hoping someone impregnates you.

he drives a small chick car. it’s not a hybrid, but it gets good gas mileage. he is not green, but likes to appear that way. he likes to smoke and drink and have a good time. he likes to be able to walk to work, but will drive there anyway. he likes to feel free, but he knows he’s not. he spent his twenties partying, and now his thirties wishing he took more responsibilty. wishing he didn’t cheat on his girlfriend when he was 20. wishing he treated his body better. he will say he doesn’t regret. but you know he does. he has everything he’s wanted for so long. but he is alone, and his friends are married, and he is getting used to his life. and pretty soon, he won’t be able to change it, and he will be the same. fifty years old at a bar, telling twenty-year olds how beautiful they are.

they graduated college. spent four years, and thousands of their parents dollars. some might have loans they have to pay back, some are a little luckier. no one can move out of their parent’s house. no one has a job that pays them over ten dollars an hour. no one has a job in their field because no one wants a twenty-two year old. they feel like they spent their time wasted. that even trying to get a job for 35,000 a year is still not as good as taking a serving job. they are sad, because they don’t really matter. and the dream of never having to settle, is gone. and they may not be alone, they might have love, but they don’t have pride.

i didn’t go to college for five years. i told everyone that i wanted to know who i was before i tried to guess how i was going to make my money. when i knew myself better, i went back. and it’s strange, because now i am older than i should be. i live with my parents, i rely on them for shelter. i am not in love, but sometimes wonder what it would be like if i could change someone’s mind. i have friends, and they seem much more advanced. and i’m afraid.

i’m afraid of ending up like everyone else. with no purpose. no love. no dream of my own. i’m afraid that i will get to where i think i need to be, and still not be happy.
.

one of the best compliments of my life ended with a negative one that sent me straight back to hating myself.

“when you’re 24 or 25, you’re going to be quite the catch.”
“what am i not the catch now?”
“no, absolutely not.”

i’ll probably never be in love.
——————-

i kind of wish i had the benefits of parents who thought more about the future, then the present. who maybe cut off the the baby making so that they could send their children to college. for those of you who don’t have to pay for college, consider yourself, in a word, blessed.

you can study. you can party. you can work, only if you’re bored. but school can be your number one priority. let me tell you that it is really hard to study for a test when you worked six doubles in a row and only made two hundred dollars. you have a phone bill, a car insurance payment, you need an oil change. gas is four dollars a gallon, and you live forty-five minutes away from everything. it’s even harder to study when your temporarily unemployed.

i just lost my job, so i asked my mom if she could loan me three hundred dollars for a summer class at community college. she hesitated, and said, “let me think about that.”

you know, most likely she doesn’t have money to give me. but that just makes me more bitter. why did you need six kids? i remember when i was a senior in high school crying my eyes out. my mom kept yelling at me, saying, “why are you so bi-polar?” “get some medication.” “i’ll check you into a hospital if you want.” i almost took her up on the offer. i knew i’d get to the hospital and they’d realize i was fine, i just wanted to be free of my mother standing over me yelling at me to stop crying.

i was crying because i didn’t want them to adopt another child. i didn’t want to see more reasons why i couldn’t go to a four year college. i guess i was selfish. i guess my parents didn’t need to pay for college. i guess they have every right to not pay for my summer class even if i pay them back. i guess they can have twenty kids, if that really helps.

i never want kids.

why is it that just when something good happens, 5,000 things go wrong? i just got a job, i was only unemployed for five days. yet, i’m not really excited. i’ll have to train and study for tests while i’m also studying for finals. i thought i had a place to live, i was all set, when that fell through. i’m going to look at another place at 6:00, but i don’t even want to. chances are that won’t work out. chances are i can’t afford it anyway. and i guess i could not take a summer class, but by me not taking it, greatly affects my work load in the fall, and how much more money i will be spending on a real school.

you’re right i’m not bi-polar. it’s just easier to say that then, “i hate my life.”  but i do wonder why everything makes me sad.

 maybe we’ll grow up and make a new name for ourselves. maybe we’ll acheive the dreams we longed for when we were younger. maybe life will throw us a bone. maybe we’ll have to work really hard- harder than most because, we were given less. maybe we’ll have to make do with what we have.

maybe if we’re lucky, we’ll make it out okay, because our parents aren’t the final say in what we are to become.

harper is a weird place. i’ve been freely using the internet for an hour now. i almost drove home, then decided to just waste time screwing around on this computer… wasting time. yes. there should be a starbucks here. i’d love that. oh em gee. wouldn’t that be awesome.

there are black platforms in the student center with ugly couches on them. i don’t really get why ugly couches deserve platforms. it’s like skinny chicks with ugly faces. don’t bother wearing stilletos. you’re still a dog.

do you know how many eighteen year old, armani clad patel’s checked me out today? i can’t even count. they travel with their entourages, and i am lucky to get by unscathed.

(i just used a word in a sentence that i don’t know the accurate definition for. ha. go me. i’m gonna google it, hold on…)
________________

sweet. i’m awesome. it means exactly what i wanted it to mean.

so i don’t really think sarah silverman is that funny… but since i was bored, i think that THIS is pretty funny:

“Everybody blames the Jews for killing Christ, and the Jews try to pass it off on the Romans. I’m one of the few people who believes it was the blacks.”

“[talking about her niece] She called me up and she’s like, “Aunt Sarah, did you know that Hitler killed sixty million Jews.” And I corrected her and I said, “You know, I think he’s responsible for killing six million Jews.” And she said, “Oh yeah! Six million! I knew that but seriously, I mean, what’s the difference?” “Uh, the difference is sixty million is unforgivable, young lady!”"

“The best time to have a baby is when you’re a black teenager.”

“I don’t care if you think I’m racist. I just want you to think I’m thin.”

“Who cares? Different religions. I guess the only time it’s an issue I suppose would be if you’re having a baby, you have to figure out how you want to raise your baby or whatever, which still would not be an issue for us. Because you know, we’d just be honest, and say “Mommy is one of the chosen people, and Daddy believes that Jesus is magic.”"

“I love you more than bears love honey.
I love you more than Jews love money.
I love you more than Asians are good at math.
I love you even if it’s not hip.
I love you more than black people don’t tip.
I love you more than Puerto Ricans need baths…”

“You got it, doll, I was curious to see which Courtney Love was going to show up: the smeared-lipstick crazy coke whore or the violent smeared-lipstick crazy coke whore.”

“You have to be able to laugh at yourself. That’s what I tell Asian people all the time.”

i’m gonna go buy starbucks now.

that is the question. easily remedied with this story.

when i was in 6th grade i was playing mash. there are many ways to play this game. my favorite way is to pick three boys that you like and one boy that is nasty. order them one through four. then pick three cars that you love and one that you don’t and number them. you go through jobs, salaries, and wedding dress colors this way. then you eliminate them in a circular number pattern. the names left standing, are your future. if you’ve never played, i’m not going to explain any further. sorry.

so in this particular game, when it came to the car category, i picked two that i wanted. some sort of mercedes and a dodge viper. the car that i did not want was a dodge omni. because those cars suck balls. i was then struggling. do i want an aston martin or a lamborghini? my brother then chimed in, “how about a beamer?” and not missing a beat i said, “eeew.”

i did not know what a beamer was at the time. it sounded trashy. so to my “eeew” my brother replied with a, “so alyssa, you don’t like them beamers?” and i responded, “eeeew” again.

i found out a day later that he meant bmw. and you know what? bmw’s are perfectly fine cars. i know that quite well. i just never knew that you could call it a beamer. 6th grade, people. sounded to me like a mexican car. like a huge van, or big truck with extra seat belts.

so. to save face. i don’t like bmw’s. i never will. and actually these days, when i look at a bmw, i am not amused. i’d rather have a mini van. honestly. i’ve warped my mind into hating those cars. i think they look plastic and cheap.

all because of a game called mash, i permanetly dislike bmw’s.

the moral of the story is that like oj simpson believes he didn’t kill his wife, i can make myself believe anything and truly, honestly never doubt myself.

like this summer. i made myself believe that i was happy dating a boy, when the guy i really liked was a banging a chick that appears to have down-syndrome.

the mind is powerful thing.

i wish that you could buy a costume that actually looked legit, instead of a cheap costume that you bought at a costume store for $37.50. 

thats why i have been britney “hit me baby one more time” spears three years in a row, and a fairy two years after. 

this year i have to be a disney princess.  which is awesome, cept that all of the costumes for disney princesses suck.   they are just not slutty enough.

if i am going to be out on the street, drunk, out of my mind, and feeling trashy, i want to look the part that i feel.  there comes a stage in the night, when the clothes just don’t wanna be on anymore.  i’m not trying to fool anyone.  i only party on halloween cause it is the easiest time of year to make out with as many random men as possible.  drunk AND in disguise? you are for once invincible. 

speaking of invincible.  i want to be wonder woman so badly, i would sell my calves for a good costume.  but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. wonder woman costumes suck.  what the eff is with the skirt?  hello.  wonder woman’s ass hangs out.  i want my ass hanging out.  i want to be legit.

otherwise, i could just go as “naked,” but i don’t want to the whole world to know that i’m easy.  i want to look like a classy whore.  like if i had a chest the size of  normal female i might go as marilyn, but since my chest is not the part i need to be exposing, that classy whore idea is gone.

and as i said, disney princess.  my friends have dibs on snow white, cinderella, and alice.  alice who is not a real princess, but is the sluttiest of all disney characters.  i could be belle, ariel, sleeping beauty, or jasmine. now, sleeping beauty is by far the best, she is not a skank.  jasmine and ariel?  it looks promising.   ariels legs stuck together all night after beer pong and tequila? not so much.

jasmine wins.  but i want to be jasmine in blue. not purple.  why the eff are all jasmine costumes purple?  i got no time to find this costume.  i might just have to wear a blue bra, and blue pajama pants.   now there’s an idea. 

i’ve got it.  i feel better.  somehow writing is the cure for life blocks.  you can start writing about anything and come out the other end knowing what you were so lost about before. 

if you read this, i’m sorry.  but halloween is my favorite holiday. ever since new years killed itself.

like a good old comeback, comes a day late message. why didn’t someone explain it to me sooner?

i like this. i like this alot. what is this? a thrill i can’t comprehend. the ability to not have to think all the time. just be. just be me. alyssa. yeah that’s my name. i almost forgot. being built up so much in my mind, i thought i had to be more, and if i wasn’t, thats failure. right?

i think i understand it now. i think i really know. if only because i am happy. if only because everything became simple. if only because these rose colored glasses are fogging my perfect vision. i like the view from here. it’s nice.

nice. nice nice nicenicneincienciencersegfhkjgbnb. it’s nice.

maybe i am too simple for my own good, but trying to document what happy feelings i have inside of me is hard.  i have nothing to say. 

i run too many miles to count on all my fingers and toes. this marathon took a lot out of me. but i learned that people can put back into you what you lost. thats why i am not the only one in this world. i am not alone.

tomorrow may not look so clear. but today looks perfect. and thats enough for right now.

there is a god-awful stench underneath the tiny space of my fingernails. as if i scratched the skin off your back, and took some sort of shit with it. i am not here to gloat, and say that i am better than you. because i know no better than anyone. i just want you to know, that i am aware, that i should not be touching you. because once i do, i’m left with your residue. your horrid gunk, underneath my fingernails. and i can’t believe i let it happen again. i can’t believe i’ve forgotten to wash my hands. and here i am, lying, because i did not forget. i didn’t wash them on purpose. because i am in love with being shit on. i am in love with being worthless in your eyes. i am in love with the memory of us. whether or not you would call us that. call us us. you’d keep us separate. i can’t. your flesh is still beneath my fingernails. as i wish my body was still beneath yours.

i should have let him go.
but it’s all his fault i can’t forget.

form a little plan it’s sure to fall through.
maybe tell him “i’m in love with you.”
drown myself in things to do.

i just want to leave before he gets to.

i was a little girl.  with long brown hair and light green eyes like both of my parents.  when i would smile, my eyes would disapear.  and when someone would talk to me, i would disapear. 

i used to walk up to my bedroom wall and put my face up against it. like if i thought deep enough, i could become a part of the wall, live in the existence of something stationary.  something unimportant.  something that no one notices.  you would never need to know who i was. you would never have to see me, and i could go on in my imaginary world with my imaginary friends that existed so real to me.  because they were like me.  shy.  sweet.  insecure.  alone.

i could be alone.  i could be happy. 

when i started school, i realized that i was weird. but i worked hard to get a smile out to those that noticed me.  to talk to those who started conversation.  and then eventually make my own conversations.  i knew that if i tried i could beat this.  i could become someone normal. someone that liked people. that could be the center of attention and not die.  someone that could be noticed and not cry.

sometimes it feels as if i have gone so far one way that no one knows who i was.  and i like who i was.  i find something so beautiful in this lonely girl.  the girl who talked to herself.  who cried herself to sleep.  who hoped to God no one saw her, but hoped even more that someone did.  this girl that i still am.  that still is so alive and that fights to come through everyday. the girl that when life gets hard,  wants to hide in the wall.  and when someone sees her for something more, she’d want him to take someone else instead.  because then she won’t have to put her heart in anything. 

your eyes were green.
your arm was red.
the summer left you scarred.
and so now you stay in bed.
you played guitar.
and you took me away.
to that ocean you saved me.
but i came back to say.
that i don’t know why.
i can’t tell you the day.
but i lost sight of you.
and we lost our way.

i’m glad you’re happy.
that she really is yours.
i was sad to hear.
that she made you a cure.
for the love of your life.
the dream of california.
the heartache you felt.
i didn’t try to warn you.
but shut it out now.
hold on to what you got.
she’ll make you happy.
the way i could not.
simplicity is key.
and i am not that girl.
that would let you sit around.
while i’m changing the world.

i saw someone today.
he smiled like you.
i gave him a kiss.
and pretended he was you.
i should get over this.
and you know that it’s true.
you’ve ‘moved on.’
but it’s not me. it’s you.
that still thinks of love.
the way it could be.
i gave up on it.
but you still think it’s in me.

your eyes were green.
your face turned red.
the summer left me scarred.
you can’t save the dead.

happy new year. i told you no. sirens. lies. you don’t believe me. why would i lie about this? it will destroy the only life i know. why the fuck would you make up being raped. unless you were a psychopath. shut your mouth. don’t tell anyone about it. sweep it under the rug. get help. i am an alcoholic. no, i am not. you don’t want me here. you cannot do what you love. god does not love you. because you are not perfect. my sarcasm hurts your feelings? sorry. lets be friends. fuck it. lets not even be friends. how are you doing? how are you really doing? don’t ask me on myspace. deleted. you are worthless. wanna dance? lets makeout. lets fuck. just kidding. let’s swim across the river. you look so hot holding the volleyball. i could take her, she’s cute but i have bigger boobs. i’m looking at you through the glass. i don’t yield douchebags, i’m from illinois. who’s that other girl? your eyes can’t lie. so why does you mouth? clog your nose when you drink your miller lite. i rock at life. 2nd place champions in beer pong are cool too. wait, high score, did i break it? your gorgeous and you know it. you know you have guys lined up around the block. don’t wait for me. lets drive. why do you like me? i’m stupid. i’ll set my starbucks on your back. you get me some of that mocha chiller shit. you take the breath right out of me. did you catch that? french toast. shake and bake. she was a ho… for sho. are you gonna be my girl? how much is real? you’re special. you’re the type of girl i could be in love with. if i lie here, if i just lay here. would you lie with me and just forget the world? listening to your song. makes me remember the weekends. you don’t fuck a girl like that up. i hate everything about you. there’s pain in forgetting what you know. 301. eiffel tower. it’s okay, he drives nascar. you’ll choose starrier eyes. the last weekend of summer. no one wants to be alone. okay next time you drop the ball you have to hold onto his ass. i’m gonna have to shock the shit out that pool. i’m giving up. guitars are better than a girlfriend. yeah. but a guitar will never love you back. our time will find us again. hopefully this will replace my template text. sure. you guys are a package deal. don’t think your that cool. but i like you, does that not mean anything? when your drunk you tell the truth. were you scared? i’m scared too. shit just got serious. i know i said too much. this is me caring. merry christmas.