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Journal #2

Bored at uni rn so I'll yap here.

I guess for the most part, I've adapted pretty well to being by myself. Moreso than I was 2 years ago that's for sure. I used to think being alone was the worst thing ever; like it was some kind of exile or public execution. There was always a level of shame I attached to it. Everyone is capable of even basic conversations. What's wrong with me? But as I've gotten a little bit older, I find being alone is better than whatever I can get out of anyone on campus. I don't do well at small talk and if someone doesn't really know me, chances are they won't be willing to put up with me long enough to deal with whatever I've got going on. Or, in the case of men, they think they've fallen in love with some quirky manic pixie dream girl who understands them on a deeper level. While I do my best to understand the perspective of others, romance has never been the goal of doing so, so it's in my best interest to cut them off. I learned the hard way that that's the best course of action when dealing with most people. My ex was one of those men I gave too much attention to when I was young and naive. 

While I love Scott Pilgrim and (hate to love) 500 days of Summer, the idea of the manic pixie dream girl is one I feel has sorta fed into this widespread idea that someone (the girl in this case) has the power to save you through love and as someone who believed this up until march of this year, I feel that that belief is awfully harmful. For one, it places your crush on a pedestal while making it seem like you're someone who needs to be saved/fixed/etc. And on the other hand, as hard as it seems to grasp, you really are the only one who can understand you enough to do what you have to to become the person you wish to. 

I used to have this unwarranted level of hatred for myself. For the longest time, I completely and totally despised myself and my actions and my face and for what? I thought this was what I needed to do in order to push myself to become a "better" person even though that version of me was completely unattainable. I was so shrouded in my own grief, I completely destroyed not just myself, but the only thing I've ever dreamt of having too. I think, I hope, I reached the opportunity for the good ending. It took a log time to realized I didn't need to be perfect or even good. I don't need to be anything. Now, that might seem completely counterintuitive when it comes to self growth, but it's not about who you think you "need" to be, it's about who you want to be. 

I did (and unproudly still struggle with) harboring great feelings of envy towards other girls. I'm not a girls girl whatsoever. There's this pretend little competition I signed myself for the moment my little preteen self experienced her first crush. Nothing I did seemed to get him to look my way and he ditched me for some taller chick. Basic middle school stuff, y'know? But since then, I feel I need to measure up to and even be better looking, smarter, more capable, etc. than everyone else around me which is an awfully sad way to live. I used to laugh at insecure girls alongside my friends unaware that I was in fact one of them, but accepting I don't need to be anyone but me and improve on anyone else's standards but mine has really freed me from this envious hell. 

I think when I'm old and on my death bed, I'll write everything about my life down in some notebook and recite stories from the timeline to the horror of my little sister and anyone else willing to listen to all the shit I got up to as a twenty something year old. Now, I won't think about this much longer, it's making me sad. 

I need to go to the mall this weekend to go pick up something up, just a quick trip. Maybe me and my friend'll go. I'm still very proud that I was able to pick up on quality time being his main love language. I could tell by the way he loves to bring me along with him even though I'm not the most socialized person or the way he makes little excuses to hang out a little longer. It's sweet to know we share that. I'm also not upset he couldn't piece together mine. We're like two idiots, one logical and one emotional, coming together to form one complete idiot. I meant that as affectionately as possible, so don't be upset reading this bit :p 

I hope I can get high this weekend. I know I shouldn't use willy-nilly, but I've had a long week and I need something to motivate me even if it's simply good company with a bonus of substance abuse. Maybe I should just settle for a boba tea at the mall. Either is good. My dad's going out of town again so my options of fun stuff is limited to just Friday. 

I want to write more. I've got a chapter of a crack fic I wanna get done but I've got exams so look forward to that next week I guess. 

Okay, I've talked enough I think.


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