...that I cannot really blog about. I need a private diary, I guess. I can blog about these thoughts in rather obscure terms, I suppose, so that no one can identify the events or people about which I'm blogging.
One of the things that is bothering me greatly: At some point, I seem to have decided to exchange any hope of long-term happiness or contentment for brief pockets of happiness. I know that these tiny glimpses of joy are unsustainable, yet I keep sacrificing chances for long-term contentment for the short term stuff. At what point did I decide that I was not worthy or able to sustain long-term contentment? At what point did I decide this was a fair exchange? This is all serious food for thought. I cannot stop making self-destructive decisions (no, not drugs, drink or anything like that. It's emotional stuff). So the question is--why? And do I want to stop? And if I want to stop, shouldn't I be able to do so? Where do I go from right here? I try not to dwell too much on this same time last year, but when I do think about it--I was in much better spirits then. I guess the thing to do is to not try to get back to that place, but to try to figure out a better, different frame of mine to achieve.
I have other stuff to say but too emotionally tapped to write about it. Bleh.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Girly Girl....
Which I definitely am NOT, I guess. Just got a pedicure/manicure for the first time today. It looks great, but I can't type with these french tips. But I don't think I'm a tomboy either.
I should write more. I see it's been more than a month since my last post. But everything I would write about involves whining pathetically. And that's just not attractive.
I think I don't understand how things work, most of the time. And by "things," I guess I mean relationships. I don't know if I'm unbelievably naive or incredibly stupid or sadly hopeful or maybe all of these things.
These nail tips suck. Can't type. Wonder if I'll get used to it.
I should write more. I see it's been more than a month since my last post. But everything I would write about involves whining pathetically. And that's just not attractive.
I think I don't understand how things work, most of the time. And by "things," I guess I mean relationships. I don't know if I'm unbelievably naive or incredibly stupid or sadly hopeful or maybe all of these things.
These nail tips suck. Can't type. Wonder if I'll get used to it.
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