February 2012
15 posts
January 2012
21 posts
Guaranteed
Eddie Vedder
“They think of me and my wandering, but I’m never what they thought.
I’ve got my indignation, but I’m pure in all my thoughts.
I’m alive.”
Obsessed with Into the Wild (book + film), Chris McCandless, Eddie Vedder, and Emile Hirsch. And just Chris’s philosophy. I love how his way of seeing life, added to Jon Krakauer and Sean Penn’s ways of portraying him are making me reinvent myself once again.
It’s always the same. When I start feeling happy, something bad happens. It’s always the same. When I thought I could finally have a chance with a guy, the world proves me that I can’t. I’m not the type to fall in love but the thing is, I managed to do so back in October. I would dream of us matching perfectly and write him imaginary letters in which I explained how much I felt so sweetly trapped in this feeling of love. Even though I’m not sure it was love. We never talked. He caught my attention first. Side looks and shy smiles. I found it cute. Until today where I saw him walking, proudly holding hands with another girl. She had that chance. This one chance that seems so inconceivable to me; when the one you love loves you back. She had that extraordinary chance to share real moments with the one she had dreamed of for months. I can’t even imagine how perfect this must feel. I’ve never had that chance. I’ve always taken chances but destiny was never with me, I guess. I hope I am allowed to be loved, because sometimes I’m just afraid that I’m not. I thought I was different enough to catch his attention. Maybe I did, but that other girl reblogging girly pictures and lonely high school girl quotes on Tumblr won the battle. I don’t care anymore, I’m used to moving on. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past thirteen months. Letting go. I’m really good at that. I’ll just let the passion go. It’s already half gone, anyway. I don’t like teenage love. I hate it.
Oh, and I learned last night that my best friend was in the hospital. What can I do? I’m five thousand miles away from her. I feel helpless. I hate society for making girls believe that they’re not beautiful enough to feel good about themselves. I hate all these robotic sluts on the magazine covers that make you feel bad about looking like you do. Nobody looks like them and nobody should feel bad about not looking like these girls’ Photoshopped selves. Because of this two of my best friends have been making themselves throw up and ruin their esophagus and lives. I’m lucky I haven’t lost any of them. Julie, I love you, just keep being the strong girl you have always been.
