(I'm going to go listen to My Chemical Romance and write slam poetry)

Hi Blog,

I love that after my last post, I actually went and downloaded the entire discography of Engima. Only listened to The Screen Behind the Mirror, as before when I had all their music, but ah well. I have lots of gigabytes of space on my computer and nothing with which to fill them.

Someday, I hope to be better about updating this more frequently and about intelligent topics, like those other blogs I stumble across in my travels through the internet. There are so many smart, eloquent people contributing untold wisdom to our culture, if only I knew where to look for all of them. Typically, I have nothing really to say in here, which sadly has become almost a theme for this blog. Maybe I should start over and do something useful, like blog about baking or something. This one feels weird to me, because it definitely does not feel like my old Livejournal from college, where I would spill my issue-of-the-hour to anyone who would listen, but whenever I feel inclined to write, that is typically where I'm at. So, I don't know where that leaves me besides confused.

I have my little paper journal that I write in from time to time, but it's just so much work to write it out by hand when I can type way faster. I despise when my brain operates dozens of times faster than my hand. Laame.

So anyway, I sit here bored on my old bed at home. I'm contorted in some folded up position, because the bed only fits about 3/4 of my body. The mattress feels like a ton of bricks beneath me and I can feel my back slowly breaking without even lying down to sleep yet. It will be a painful few days. Been retreating up here to avoid my parents, with whom I have nothing in common. Sometimes it feels not even our blood. Wah wah. Anyway. I decided that I am a really bad Buddhist, because I consider myself like...a half-Buddhist and that's pretty lame of me. I dig all the ideas and the logic and the positivity, but I am lazy and almost never sit down and meditate. I would say I suck at meditating, but that's kind of subjective and beside the point. So, I sat here for a while, I dunno, probably 15 minutes. Got to say, it was like the other times I have meditated, I ended it feeling super chill and relaxed. Of course, it did not magically make me happy, but I think I was already pretty happy the last few times I tried it.

So resolution or whatever for myself: meditate every day. I've only read Thich Nhat Hanh say it a billion and a half times, but it clearly has not sunk in. I just need to make a more concerted effort to pay freaking attention to my life. Especially lately, I've been walking around in some weird daze, listening to music and staring at the ground. It snowed for three days and I only spent maybe 10 seconds actually SEEING the snow. I remembered because...well, I guess because I remember. I actually paid attention to what was happening at that moment and it stuck. I get this weird feeling that I've been avoiding paying attention lately because I just can't bear to pay attention to feeling like shit.

I've had this really awesome thing happening lately where I go to my room to sleep, and end up curled in a ball crying hysterically. Clearly, I am right in the head. Clearly. No, but it really is not fun, as one might imagine. I've been trying to figure out why, since I don't have a shrink to do it for me, and I really think it's that psychotic irrational fear that no one will ever love me. Tell me how I spent the last year getting into Buddhism and yoga and self-discovery and all that jazz, only to be 14 again and think I'm unlovable. I mean, REALLY. How does that happen? So I sit there and think back to how it was over a year now since someone actually loved me (not that long in the grand scheme of things) and I can't help but freak out about whether I made some horrible mistake (I didn't). But I can't stop it, so I just mildly hyperventilate and wonder if all that last year broke me somehow. I'm not the same person I was then, and I thought this was good, it really is good, but then I also walk around like a zombie half the time. I guess professionals would call that depression, but blah.

I just don't get how this happens in my brain. I distinctly recall everything BEFORE my birthday being all zen and happy and athletic and healthy, and then everything AFTER my birthday has somehow erased that and I'm an antisocial shut-in who cries a lot. This can't be normal, right? siigh. I just feel really broken, or something, and lacking self-worth...attractive qualities, I know. Which should be a good indication of how I feel about this post... ugh

I'm just going to keep throwing myself into new/old pursuits: learning knitting and Chinese, reading better books than Twilight, expanding my cooking, meditating every single day, forcing myself to socialize more. I've got to believe that I will feel normal again soon.