gone.

Anonymous asked: You left me, sweet, two legacies, -
A legacy of love
A Heavenly Father would content,
Had He the offer of;

You left me boundaries of pain
Capacious as the sea,
Between eternity and time,
Your consciousness and me.

what is this.

Anonymous asked: i miss you
the way you used to smile and the way you used to laugh
you were the kindest
but now i feel that you need these good feelings back
so take my heart and my soul
and be happy, love
:)

i don’t use this blog anymore. i logged in to find the blog of an old friend and on a whim checked this inbox and found this message. my heart sank…

what i’d give for this anon. to reveal their identity so i could give my appreciation.

if only someone knew.

shutthefuckup.

/vent.

where do i begin.

survival of the fittest. got to keep up.

i’m scared.

as fuck.

of most everything.

cont’d.

i’m always good, but never great. and this weighs heavy on my shoulders. people always talk down to me and it feels like nails on a chalkboard…inside of my brain. i cannot stand it. people always talk down to me. always.

i just joined the technical theatre course this year. i’m excelling faster than anyone in the class. i’ve worked my ass off to get to the same level as anyone else; to learn the vocabulary, learn how to work our sound and light boards, complete projects and make them flawless, learn how to use machinery safely and efficiently, build braces and flats and anything else…i’ve worked. and worked. and i built a flat entirely on my own, aced every test, won first place in the design competition, worked two shows in one semester, completed all assignments and averaged a 100 grade for a semester and a half.

for what? to still get talked down to. to still get called nothing but an actor, wanna-be technician. it’s like no matter what i do, i’m still less than them. for what? for one less year of a class? i’m doing everything that is thrown at me and more. i’ve made such an effort. and i’m put down every few days in some way or another. and i can’t help but feel like it’s complete and total bullshit.

i really wanted to do technical theatre next year because i love what i’m doing…but i don’t love that i can’t be accepted into that community of people for anything i do. i’ll never be a good enough technician to catch up, no matter how caught up i actually am.

i don’t know if i’ll continue like this. the way i see it, those few who treat me this way are going to be buddy-buddy with the technicians from our school at the next school, and i’m still going to be one-upped. always.

at this point, it’s not even about being ahead. it’s about being on the same level. i get that other people have more time put in, but i’ve more than made up for it with my efforts and progress and achievements.

good, never great.
good enough? apparently not.

i’d like to be someone’s number 1.

i’d like to be someone’s whole world. i’d like to come first.
to be the center of attention.
the reason.
the rhyme.

but i haven’t ever been and i will never be. i’m not anything spectacular and no one out there knows my name.

but i guess that’s why i’ve always loved the stage. because no matter how much of a fuck up i feel like, how ugly i feel or how stupid, how lonely or how overwhelmed…none of it matters when i’m up there. it all gets left behind. i’m the center of everyone in that audience’s world for one line or a hundred lines, for one second of fifteen minutes or two hours…someone is paying attention to only me. and no matter how little anyone i know cares, someone in the audience is caring right then.

i come first for a second of their lives. not their phone, or if it’s ringing. not their kids or their wives or their husbands. not their friends. they have to pay attention to me. for one minute.

and that feels so fucking good.

i’ve been falling in love with technical theatre. the unseen, rarely appreciated, but entirely necessary aspect of the theatre. maybe it’s because i’ve been shying away from everything social, maybe it’s because i love to feel needed. i’m not sure…but where this is going, is a whole different story. (to be cont’d.)

bull shit.

“we’re young; we’re going to make mistakes.”
yeah. young people make mistakes. i know that full-well. but mistakes are things that happen once, maybe accidentally twice, and you learn from them. move on. and fix the issues. you don’t sit on the “repeat” button and keep pinning that on the fact that we’re young.

“those who complain about our generation forget who raised it.”
this pisses me off most. my nana is part of that generation and she did the best she could. my mother was a drug addict and abandoned me, and you know what? i don’t blame her for anything. i thank my nana, on the other hand, every day. these kids who talk about taking no authority and doing what they want pull this card and it’s shit. *stop blaming your parents/guardians for your screw-ups. they may have not been perfect, hell, they may have been the worst example in the world, i’d know, but if you can stand there and say “my parent/guardian was the worst example in the world.” then you obviously know you’re not supposed to repeat their mistakes. those who raised you are not to blame for whatever you’ve done that needs somewhere to place blame. you are responsible for yourself. you are responsible for knowing right from wrong. you.

/end rant. (personal opinion.)

take your superiority

complex and shove it up your ass.

you are a mindless hipster drone and i can predict everything about you without having had the displeasure of talking to you in years.

no matter how well you can quote the breakfast club, or how many little hipster things you like, you’re not better than anyone else.

at all.

in any way.

a style is only a style. it’s a way to dress. not a mindset. and if you make it into a mindset, fine, but don’t you dare hold it over anyone else for their disagreement or lack of interest.

i’m sure that i’m improving.

in my head.

i can write down on paper all of the really wonderful attributes i have. i know that there are a lot of great things about me.

i know in my head that i am talented.
smart, as hell.
beautiful.
fun.
sweet.
thoughtful.
like-able.
open.
i have friends that care about me.
i know a lot of people who genuinely like and/or admire me.
i have what most would consider a nearly perfect boyfriend,
and, on paper, a fantastic relationship.

i know i have a lot going for me. a hell of a lot more than the average person. so why can’t i bring myself to feel even moderately good about myself in reality?
i can say it and say it and say it, and nothing changes. i’m a firm believer in “tell yourself it’s so, and it will be so.” because if you have a shit attitude about something, it’ll never change. so why aren’t i changing? i need confidence. i need it now. i get these little tastes of what it’s like to love myself for so very brief moments in time and it’s spectacular, i want to feel like that permanently. with only the brief-little tastes of insecurity.

and it really fucking sucks when no one, not even your best friend, realizes that it’s all a game. that i’m trying to act like i love myself so that maybe sometime soon i will. and they call me out and mock me and i want to scream “leave me the fuck alone, i’m trying, i’m a mess.” because 99% of the time, i am a disaster inside of a frame.

i come unraveled at the pull of a string, and not many people can, but the few who can…sure as hell know how to do it just right. and it’s a bitch because they’re the ones who are the closest to me.

so what do i do? i bitch on tumblr, then i keep going. i keep acting self-assured and hoping that one day, some day, preferably soon, i really will be.