The good old hypocrite syndrome

Here it is, back to haunt me. Maybe I have this House thing going on. I just can't perform the way I used to when I fall for someone. I become the insecure child I used to be, the one who had to earn everything but no matter how hard I tried, it was never good enough for me to believe I deserve the good things that were happening to me. So I adapted. I changed skin according to whom I had to impress or accommodate. I turned into who I thought my teachers, my friends, by boyfriends wanted me to be. And at some point I got tired and I said to myself, hey, what if the only one I had to make proud was me? And now I'm betraying that girl that I grew to be in these last couple of years. It used to be peace and quiet in my head and sometimes, yes, I'd wanna fall in love. But it tears me apart that I'm this vulnerable and easy to put down.
Instead of writing about how happy and excited I am, I'm already looking for trouble all on my own. And it's not the others that try to change me, it's this desperate need I have to fit perfectly, like a puzzle piece. And I could never. Not anywhere. I've built such a distinct personality, around so many stories and with so many details, that it can no longer be turned around. All I can do is enjoy the ride and know I'll fall right back on my feet no matter what happens. It's true I'm having wine all alone with my cat two weeks after I met him. That I'm lonely and I was actually wishing I would be. That I need my time alone and I need my I love yous to the same extent. It's all true. If I'm gonna keep being friends with my boring ass, I should at least be honest to it.

A year off

This is like the most fun time for me to write posts. Because I'm so damaged. Doubting myself, hating myself, trying to put myself down with another dose of whatever it takes to get numb. I'm out of any inspiration, though. Still, I can tell you one thing. I wish sometimes I wasn't the overachiever I was raised to be. I dream of that year off. When I'll hit the road with a backpack. And wash my other change of clothes in hostels and take tons of pictures and post them for my friends to see in an African internet cafe. And just sweep books with people on the train. Sleep in the grass in Italy and get sunburned in Spain and have a drink under a bridge with the weirdos or walk amazing museums in dirty sandals. I want my year off so that I can learn to sky once again. To fall in the snow and laugh it off, to feel my cheeks burning and my legs itching. To pick grapes in the autumn and flowers in spring. To make my cat not miss me everyday. To have every single aunt ask me what am I going to do with my life and not be referring to a man. To get my hair dirty in the rain and sit at the bar until 2 pm driving people crazy and making them laugh at the same time. To have cheesy puffs for lunch and beer for dinner and never worry anyone's concerned about my weight. To meet a tall dark stranger and spend days in bed. To have him cook me breakfast and quietly walk out the door. To see Rome and Paris and especially Lima. To be a monk and a slut and to dance in the streets. I want it all. All of it. I want my damn year off. No PhD, no mommy, no house to clean. Just me and a backpack under the sky.

Lessons I've learned

* The cat is always going to be there and greet you when you get home. Not because she is crazy about you, but because she wants fresh food and can't get away from your pathetic ass.
* Friends come first. If it takes crying yourself to sleep because of depression by association, it's going to be worth it every day.
* New love is always exciting. But the extent to which you can always be exciting to you new crush is too limited. Nobody likes a needy loser.
* Do not take love for granted. It can go away even faster than it walked into your life. And by the time that happens the damn bastard might have gotten under your skin.
* Don't make phone calls when you're drunk or tired. You're bound to give away more than you ever thought you would. And it never helps. Nobody cares about your damn drama.
* Sleepless nights always end up in lonely mornings. Whether you're kicking people out of your home or doing the walk of shame, it's a shitty morning.
* If you meet someone who makes you smile just by thinking of them don't go ruining it by doubting yourself. It's not going to do anyone no good. And it's a self-fulfilling prophecy.
* You're perfect just the way you are. There's a bunch of people out there who will agree on that any single day. And those are the ones who matter.

Fffuuuuuu

Today I was supposed to submit my thesis for my teacher's review. The final submission to the faculty starts in a couple of days and ends in a week. I have squat. I mean, I have the structure all laid out, I have most of the gibberish I want to talk about, but I have to polish it over and over and I have to write my analysis, which is supposed to be the most important part. I work very slow and I know it's because I'm lazy and would do anything not to go through this kind of work anymore. And still, I'm doing it in order to do this kind of work again for the next at least three years. But I've come to realize a PhD is just the natural next step in my pursuit of academic achievement. And it's not so much about the title, but about wanting to be close to an environment where I can grow and eventually work in bad-ass social research.
I know I can do this, but I also know I'm doing it in the worst possible way, indulging myself to a few of the things I would do if it wasn't for the thesis and pushing pushing pushing the damn deadline. It's all my fault. I started reading for it in January, but was too busy watching stuff all day and sleeping to actually put some words down too. Anyway, it's gonna get done. But I fear it's gonna get done CEU style. Like writing a full chapter hours before submission. As long as it gets done and I get away with it, it's fine by me.
Of course I'm in that painful maze again where I can see the sky and the birdies and I can even see through the fence and what's waiting for me out there is an awesome summer. Even if I only do the simple things, like hang out at the cabin with my parents and go away for a weekend to some festival with my friends. Now I have a different mindset and better means to have all the fun I want. But for now I'm stuck walking around this paper, counting words and pages, references running through my head like movie credits, oh, and if it only was towards the end.
There's huge writing I have to do these next couple of days. And huge cleaning around the house. And not so much work at the newspaper, but still time-consuming. And all I actually wanna do is walk around and read in the park, invite people out for ice cream or beer, cook and well, just enjoy myself. Today I'm only gonna work till noon, because I have some appointments and then I'm going shopping with my mom. Who is not at all concerned about my thesis. She's seen me pull this twice and has no sympathy for my slothfulness. So why not? It's not like I ever really work after 5 pm. Maybe slowly taking the edge off will eventually help. If not the deadline will do the trick.

Late night wallowing

It's this huge sadness. This fear and distress and numbness at the same time. It's this damn thing that won't go away. The damn feeling that something's missing. I know it's the stress building up. The thesis and the applications and the job and the thoughts about the future that are paralyzing me. Making me think about whether it's worth it. Whether it's worth all the movies I didn't see, all the naps I didn't take, all the books I didn't read, all the people I didn't meet, all the places I haven't seen. And there's something more I've missed and promised myself I won't talk about. I'm tired of waiting and tired of being tired. Yeah, yeah, you can't always get what you want. But I did. And I'm not sure it's what I pictured it would be. It's fun most times. And it's easy. And there's so much in my life that wasn't and isn't easy that I needed the break. But I miss complicated. I miss it sometimes because it comes with perks. But I know I don't really want it. Funny how when I start writing about it I make sense. Funny how I know I was right. And I still don't want to be right. I'm happy. I break rules from time to time. But mostly the right ones. And from time to time I get sad just like now. I know exactly what I'm missing, I know I don't really want it back. But I still have to fight the temptation from time to time. To say it straightforward, I miss being in love. I hear all these love songs and no scent or face or voice comes to my head anymore. For a long time now. And I miss it. And from time to time I'd take chances, just for a second there. But there's nobody out there I'd take a chance on. Cause maybe if there was it wouldn't be called taking a chance. I'd just dive heads in. I miss that too. It all piles up on nights like this when I've had a drink too many. And I scramble my brains and there's no great love I can find in my heart. And I bounce my head to the walls and there's no potential someone who could sweep me off my feet. It's so annoying. I know it's a tailored desire. I know I'm being pushed from one side or the other. I know I'm like a teenager thinking that if all my friends do it, why don't I. It should've gone away by now. But it's still there. That huge hope in someone good and strong to make it all worth it. And I know it's tailored as well. But I'm afraid it's never coming my way. And I know it's not the worst thing that could happen. But I want it and I'm used to getting what I want. But this isn't something I can just make happen for myself. Wouldn't be the same.

When the spell breaks

It's really amazing how much of the reality we take as given is actually just the product of our minds. How the way people are in our heads has so much to do with subjective feelings and even the most vivid memories of them are actually edited over and over again. I've been nostalgic on several occasions over the great times I had with people from my past. And I've also made super villains out of others. But while my mind is sanctifying or damning the ones I have in my life right now, it's also cleaning up the mess from the past.
These last few years I've met some of those people. I met my on-and-off summer love from when I was really young and I finally was able to retrieve that image of his sharp lips I had been looking for in my memories. But apart from that, he just appeared as he'd always been although my mind thought it could leave those things aside: a crass unattractive man who never knew what he wanted. While in my head he was all bad-ass passionate hot guy. It was awesome while it lasted, we had our star watching nights and our make-up endless kisses, but now I know I'd never want to go back.
Well, there's also people I've vilified. I've had really close friends who continually let me down. It's maybe why I react so violently if anyone makes fun of me in public. Now I know they were just girls who wanted to lead the group power dynamics and I never fell for that. Because I always cared less about clothes and boys it didn't matter that much to me who was queen bee and why I owed her my admiration. Over and over I was criticized for being under-dressed or too outgoing and at some point you start believing you are less than if they say it for long enough. Lucky for me I met the friends I have today and they had no need to mock me for my appearance or for how I choose to live my life. They've empowered me with their trust and support and even though in so many ways we are different we share a sense of open-mindedness and a preference for substance I didn't have back then. I know I might have misunderstood those other people and I'm not saying they couldn't be awesome people right now, but it took me a while to get here. Until you stop caring it's always going to haunt you.
Talking about ghosts. Remember all that gibberish about soul mates? That's the most recent spell that broke. The one I never thought that would. It all started with a drunken afternoon that turned to night. We talked for hours and it all seemed like the good times. Just that I forgot there had never been any good times. It was all in my head. And as the night went on I kept asking myself who is this man I once swore eternal love to and why did we lie to ourselves for so long. It was obvious he was annoyed my my endless blabber. It was obvious he bore me to death. And it was obvious I no longer had any flame or sparkle left whatsoever in the dark pits of my heart when I thought of him. But when the spell broke I didn't feel empty, I felt relieved. I always knew that when I really wanted something I'd go and grab it. And for a long time I asked myself why none of us did a decisive step towards fulfilling what we were dreaming about. So then I knew our minds had been playing tricks. We were never star-struck lovers. We just met at very vulnerable points in our lives and it all got swollen in time, all that feeling of abandonment and the hope that the other could keep it away. He can't. I can't. Not for one another. We're whole persons by ourselves now and the spell has been broken.
And these are not isolated cases. I live a lot within myself. There is a whole parallel world inside my head. And there's even one more in my dreams. Like replicas from another dimension. Just twisted. Sometimes it gets quiet. And I worry a bit. But I never get bored. I write letters to people and build alternative scenarios. I can cook in my head and I can walk mountain paths and there's really a lot that happens when I'm showering or riding the bus. So no wonder people live in my head as well. And some I really want to kick out when they hurt me, but I know I've made lots of room for them there and I don't want to let it go to waste. But sometimes there are black holes. And it all gets sucked out. To some other dimension, some sort of paper shredder. I get to come at peace with the wars I've been fighting in my head or I get to discard some stories that obsess me. But once the spell breaks it's gone for good.

A very grown-up 1st of June

 I spent a very grown-up Children's Day yesterday. I woke up very early to work on my dissertation and I cooked my own breakfast. I took the bus alongside the corporate slaves and did some work around the office. Then I went on a working trip and I had lunch with politicians. And when I finally got back to town I went to the dentist and didn't complain a bit. In the evening I was too beat to write a word and I did the only childish thing all day (aside from sticking my nose to the window of the car admiring the mountain landscapes). I watched Sailor Moon. It's a pleasure I allow myself every morning. I learn stuff and it really cheers me up.

On days like that I really enjoy being a journalist. I get to meet people and learn about how things actually work. By the things people try to impress you with or hide from you you can actually tell a lot about them, their work and their peer. I meet all sorts of mayors and councilmen and they all try to give you the impression that they are the only ones who put things into motion. But the thing you learn is not that things are actually being done, which is more than most people I know believe, but that communities have always evolved. That there have been times of poverty and times of wealth, that people don't just stand by. They work, they fix things, build new ones. On the other hand, not enough things are being done. There's leaking money everywhere, we should know, it's our job to find the faucet. But weird as it may seem in my line of work, I haven't lost my faith in people. Maybe it's because I've been raised to believe that hard work and education are powerful tools for getting ahead and I see that all around me. People complain. About everyone being liars and thieves and lazy. But even the bosses we hate worked harder than us and learned fast. Even the colleagues we may frown upon have their function in the mechanisms of the business or at least in the social clockwork built around it. I believe in the merits of meritocracy, but I never assume it's intrinsic to our social fiber or that it should be the law everywhere. I guess it makes it easier for me not to be frustrated about the things I learn everyday working at the newspaper. And doing the little research I get to do in between. But that's a story for another day.