I have lied. I’ve told way too many people over the past week that I thought that dress looked great on them and that they didn’t need to go a size up. I’ve told too many people that they weren’t too old to be wearing u-neck body suits. I’ve told too many women that this and this was okay to wear together (you’d be surprised at how many people ask). I even went as far as telling a women that wearing just a golden body suit, back-seam tights and red pumps would be classy.
I really like the shift from working backstock to sales, but I never knew how much lying sales associates had to do through their teeth.
Piggy backing on my last text post, I’ve realized that I’m pretty fucking selfish.
I guess this isn’t really a realization, on the count of I’ve been told this before, but I feel like I’ve come to terms with this just being the way I am. I see room for changing, and I think I will in the future. I want to find someone who makes me not want to be selfish, first, though.
But the kind of selfish I think I am, is an atypical sort. Like I’m selfish with relationships. Not as in I won’t share, because I think when I’m willing, I can be more than generous. I’m just not emotionally giving.
Trying to get closer to what it really is, I feel like I’m selfish through being controlling. Like I consciously bullshit my way through things to get whatever I want. Which usually works when I’m doing it intently.
And whatever I want isn’t usually a literal gain. It’s like personal satisfaction. Like I’m proud of myself of being capable of making someone believe what I give them knowing it’s not true. Or that I can rely on the fact that I can get things done for myself by getting people to just do for me, even though I wouldn’t mind doing things on my own.
I’ve been doing it for such a while that shit just naturally starts rolling off my tongue. I’m partially believe the shit half the time.
Started at my new location on Monday. So far I’m really enjoying it. It’s practically a brand new job. I’m working sales now, and in DC so it’s a lot different from the way things were back when I worked in Silver Spring. I really like all the co-workers I’ve met thus far.
TIME. Goddamn. Since I’ve been working, or will be working so much this week, I’m back to not having much time for relaxation. I hate it and I like it. That way I really enjoy the down time I do get every now and then. And it really helps with budgeting my time effectively (why the fuck am I writing like this?).
Since my friend who I’m talking about barely gets on Tumblr, I feel like I have the leeway to vent about it. I’ve just had a really close friend, and recently I’ve been just trying to breakaway sort of. I’ve been really dependent on the friend over the last few years, and things have changed over time. Our dynamic was always based on the convenience of us seeing each other, and how accessible the friend was to me, but both of those things have changed. I was bitter for a while, but now I feel like we’re just on different pages. I just feel like I need to learn how to just do my own thing, and meet new people who fall in line with what I need when I need it.
Thinking about that as me realizing how selfish I am. I’m not bothered by it at all, but I’ll leave that for another post.
After watching Set It Off (one of my fucking favorite movies of all time), I just realized that I want to do whatever I can to make sure I’m free my entire life. Financially, mentally and physically.
(Something along the lines of…) It’s really weird that we’re seeing what we’re seeing. Like nobody ever has, or ever will look at what you see, have an understanding of it like you do, and feel the way you do at that very instant.
Like every moment is specific to you. And I was sitting on that for a while, and I started to think about how exponentially small yet disgustingly big we are in the grand scheme of things.
Yes billions of people have been here before me, with their own thoughts and significant lives, but I fall in line with the rest of them—in a good way. My life, if I decide it to be, can fall in line with perspectives and stories appreciated still today from hundreds of years ago.
Like books and movies and poetry and everything we basically respect as art is created by someone, and has to be created by someone today.
But basically I think that my life and everyone’s life is a big deal. Because we’re forming the future in which our lives will be considered (if that makes sense?).
Hey tumblr. I’m talking to Somala on the phone right now. Today in English class my teacher put everyone in “Writing Level” groups. And for some reason more than half the class was on the first level besides these two kids. But for some reason bigger than this, I was the only kid hanging out in “Writing Level” 2. Under grammar and misspelling. Only because I spell ironically as ironicly (lol). BUT ANYWAY, he taught us today how to form paragraphs. And how to make sure they’re complete thoughts. And I swear my thoughts are so fucking sparatic, that every word in and of itself should be its own paragraph. I don’t see the relevance, but that idea played in the back of my head all day. Hi, Somala.
Sadly enough, this post got fucked up and now there are no paragraphs. Which in and of itself is ironic to this post. Which is ironic because I’m on the second writing level for spelling ironically wrong.
But I feel like a picture or song is 10X more effective at capturing a mood, or emotion than words can be.
Unless you’re a fucking poet or something. Like Maya Angelou, I swear. She makes words come alive, it’s almost scary. Her words like speak to your inner being and make you vibrate in weird ways that end up rejuvenating your spirit. But pictures are powerful. They say more than colorless words. Same with music. It’s weird
Talking in circles, but I curse a lot. And it’s honestly just not acceptable. “Fuck” shouldn’t roll off my tongue as often as it does. Painting ugly ass pictures with my tongue.
I wish I knew how to express what I mean. I can say whatever I think is being received effectively, but usually the message is probably lost.
Like you talk to people so often, but you hardly ever really know what they think. I don’t know if it’s politeness, or insecurities, or people not listening, or people’s capacity (or lack thereof) of empathy.
I don’t know.
I just want to say something, and you know what I really mean.
Sometimes I chug through my time. Sometimes I enjoy my time. Sometimes I forget about my time. Sometimes I dread my time. Sometimes I try to rush through my time.
But most recently, I’ve been floating through my time.
It’s my time, so I do with it whatever I want. But since I’m floating mainly, and not really doing much with it, I feel like it’s not much of mine anymore. It’s like the flow around me is doing with my time whatever it wants. I have no direct focus of where to filter my time.
Sort of, but not deliberately enough. And since it doesn’t feel like my time, I’m usually forgetting my time, and then I don’t enjoy my time, then I end up dreading my time, and to not dread I rush through my time.
I’m always forgetting my shit everywhere, and my friend Connor claims it’s because I have too much on my mind—which sometimes I do feel like. But weirdly if you asked, and I had to answer, I really couldn’t tell you what was on my mind. What’s on my mind is damn near close to nothing.
Left early today with Isak (http://thesacksofwham.tumblr.com), because of our half-day schedule, and went to the thrift store. We spent a good 2-3 hours in there, but we found some pretty legit stuff.
I got two pretty tough jean jackets that are about to really come in handy for the spring, some black Levis, and really nice silk (not effeminate) shirt, a Cosby sweater (of course), and these really dope bracelets, wristbands and watch.
I swear I never wear any type of accessories. I’ve always wanted to, but never knew where to get the kind of stuff I wanted. It took us about 20 mins to put all of these together, but I’m happy with the way they came out.
They remind me of KJohn’s collection (http://kjohnlasoul.com/), who’s also one of Street Etiquette’s affiliates. Check out his blog; he’s exceptionally well dressed.
I feel like half of my personality for a lil’ while has been me trying to prove something. I’m not exactly sure what, but that I’m trying to prove something.
But I don’t think it’s such a bad thing. For a while, I feel like I fell victim to habits that didn’t necessarily reflect the kind of person I really knew I was. So recently, I feel like I’ve been going out of my way to behave the way I know I genuinely am.
But I feel like I’ve reached where I should be. At least partially. I’m where I want to be, and I feel like I can relax and just flow outwardly. Now that I’m more cognizant, let’s see where that takes me.