This is where I am.

Questions with simple and not so simple answers:

Am I a finished product?

Is anyone ever a finished product?


I am writing not to update an online audience but I know this is for selfish reasons entirely and while the thought is uncomfortable, there is no use in denying it.

I suppose I’m writing to update the audience within my head. I huff at the thought.

This is my way of saying this is where I am.

So…this is where I am.

I am in my final semester of my Junior year in university. I know that when I look back at this, I’ll laugh or smile or feel this scrambled mushy twinge in my stomach and heart alike much like I have done browsing old posts today.

I student teach and recently I did something that I would tell you was impossible if you were to ask me years ago.

I went to a modeling audition on a whim.

Very shallow, right.

The feeling of being objectified out of choice is something I could never really explain to anyone in sense.

And I passed through the audition. And I got a callback.

And I passed through that.

So, I am a student teacher who models some and I guess that’s interesting.

Modeling is not a passion but something that I use to prove something to myself.

Does that make sense?

Oh, and I passed all of my teaching exams and I talked with one of my old professors about the possibility of teaching abroad so there’s that.

I feel that the Universe and I have an understanding. Not that it is especially kind or finicky,  but just is and I understand.

I understand that when you truly are meant to

that it will be

and when things happen, they are meant to.

I understand that sadness is not sin and anger is not sin and love is

love Is.

I have never loved but I have. I think a lot of people feel this.

Anyway, I’ll attempt to write more here because it feels good.

Also, I should post previous writings I’ve done that I haven’t shown.





anglesIsn’t it funny how in the aura of writing and typing haunting thoughts and raving emotions, one can feel so in sync with what they express, but then when one revisits the words they have written, these same musings seem so foreign and unjust.

I wonder if this reflects me somehow.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.


We stain cigarettes and coffee cups with harsh lipstick. We play our music loud while sitting in the same spot we usually do at the same time we usually meet. We compliment strangers who could care less and argue about ethics and religion then laugh about that one time about that one thing. We skip class to eat at cafes and when we’re in class, we plug in headphones to drown out the muck but still seem to communicate with each other. We play music and procrastinate. We do things we shouldn’t and say things we shouldn’t. We run around on dark winter nights but we don’t feel it.  We do things we don’t want to and do things we do. We challenge each other and give up on each other only to turn back to one another once more. We eat things we don’t want and dream like there is no impossible. We fall in love with drummers in bands who we’ve spoken to approximately five times.

Well, one of us at least. One of us falls in love with drummers in bands with girlfriends.

We collect numbers like trading cards and make mistakes like they’re air and we’re drowning. We say we’ve given up but we keep trying. We’re haunted by exes and taunted with loneliness. We’re bored and we’re busy. We want love and we want freedom. We want to be our own and each others.

We are depressed. We are insecure. We are prideful. We are loud.

We judge. We cry. We argue. We sing.

We are love. We are lost. We are we.

Yellow is my favorite color.

Maybe it’s my Gemini tendencies. Maybe I’m connected to the moon spiritually and it tugs at my emotions and thoughts like the tide. Maybe I’m stuck between this world and the next because I feel oh so disconnected from both. Maybe my happiness is different from other people’s happinesses. Maybe we’re all just living, breathing organisms on a floating rock watched by the sole being who thought of us.

Everyone seems to have it all together and I feel as if I’m the sole person trying to patch together my entire being. I feel as if I’m the only person who wonders if there is even another person wondering about them. I feel as if none of this matters. College and work and “goals” and careers shouldn’t matter. We have short lives and we spend them doing things we don’t like to please people who don’t truly care. We don’t have a stretch of life ahead of us. We are short stories in a book of eternity.


I don’t know what I’m saying but I know how I feel.

New Student Orientation (Hell)

“Just get me out of Summer camp, already and let me start college.”
What I learned at college orientation:
•Essentially, the only thing that matters is how many people you could possibly almost remember by face.
•Pep is what one cannot do without.
•”Oh, come on it’s not that bad.”
•If you don’t fit in; you don’t fit in.
•Gay guys are the best friends you’ll ever have.
•Change your personality for others.
•Have a G-O-O-D M-O-R-N-I-N-G!!!

I am so tired of fake bullsh*t.
Like, just tell me what college is really like, ok? For my whole life I’ve been told all these sugar coated things. I don’t need a barely twenty-year-old to tell me I can’t go outside during orientation lunch. I don’t need other twenty-something year olds to tell me that I need to “lighten up” etc etc.
I wish I didn’t have to go to college.
Life is just a huge high school.