Been Writing More Lately.

I’ve been going through a rollercoaster of emotions these few days. Whether it’s over people, love, or my own mental issues. I’ve been progressing since my worst emotional and mental breakdown a little over a year ago. I’ve been seeking help, and in doing so I’ve developed a better control over my emotions and my thoughts. I taught myself to write everything that I’m feeling as it escalates. Mostly to produce material for songs, but it benefits me no matter what I write it all for. It makes me less stressed and less likely to lose my sanity. People get worried about my safety, my sanity, and worse: What they think they did to cause it. 

Nobody purposefully causes me to have these breakdowns. So in a sense it’s not really anyone’s fault. I get scared when I feel a close friend slipping away, when I’m losing the emotional connection I have with someone, and when someone constantly pushes at me until I break. The last one causes more than an emotional and mental breakdown. It causes a rage. I’ve had incidents where I went into a rage and left someone beat to shit on the ground with no recollection of the events. I’ve put a lid on the rage against people, for the most part. If anything I’m physically destructive toward objects instead of people.

I’ve realized, as I write everything my mind becomes clearer. One event that happened just 4 months ago caused me to write 10 pages of material for a song. I went through every emotion I felt from the situation, and came out of it feeling relieved. It’s just like when I post everything I feel here. It’s the same gratification.

I’m currently writing about a person I’ve been feeling strongly for, but things seem to be leaning toward the gloomy side on my end. I’m getting doubts, maybe he is too. There’s more going on behind the pictures. I’m starting to see karma do it’s work. I’m dealing with the same things I put someone else through awhile back. I feel like shit because I realized I put the guy I used to love through hell without knowing what it was doing to him. It wasn’t intentional at all though, it was just a lot to take in I’m sure.

I see where the jealousy came from, and the worry. It made sense why he wanted me to quit dancing, to stop hanging out with my friends, and to stop paying attention and egging on all the comments about my looks and such. It bothered him. It made him look stupid. Things are making a lot more sense now, and I feel like this needed to happen so I can see where I went wrong and correct it. It must have been so much worse since we loved each other.. This guy and I don’t have that connection. We have taken a liking to each other, and I enjoy the time I have with him. But things are changing, and I can feel it. I know when things are going south, I’ve been through it over a million times. I’ve been kicked to the curb more than one would believe. 

Maybe my writing should be more about myself. About my thoughts, the true feelings I have deep down inside that I hate to share with the world. I can’t ever wrap my head around my being. Or shall I say, my reason for existing? I’ve learned throughout my entire life what people are, the true colors of what we are, and the things we try to reject about ourselves. So what are we all really here for? I’ve been so curious about this, but never had someone to speak with on the matter. I may play myself off as an idiot, but I’m actually quite smart. I observe more than a normal individual. I see the behaviors, the eyes, the hand twitches. I know a bad situation when I see it and not because of tension. That’s how I end up getting so depressed to begin with. Because I know exactly what’s going on, and people deny and deny and deny until it hits a critical point and everything combusts. I’ve watched my heart get torn apart, and he wouldn’t admit he was doing it. Then it finally hit the fan, and everything was torn to pieces. I’m not getting into that though.

There’s been so much stress and so much pain, but not enough smiling. I’ve been trying to keep optimistic, but there’s been a lot on my mind especially with all that’s been going on. I’m a lot better now, but the stress is still lingering. I suppose you could say that tucking everything away in the back of my mind isn’t exactly doing the trick. This helps though, to write it all out. Keeps things off my mind for a period of time. We’ll see how long this lasts.

scarychidzscaringchidz:

jesterproductions:

Seriously one of my most favorite parts in the movie.

this is the best part

(via psvalsays)

(Source: twerrp, via psvalsays)

“Play music and do it loud as !@#$. Do what you want to. Whatever you are passionate about do it because passion is amazing to contain and use on a daily basis.”

Workin on that tan bruh ;)

State Of Bass 2/29/12

ianbrooks:

Two Sides by Abbas Mushtaq

There are two sides to every story and sometimes it’s necessary to look at things a little differently to get the whole picture.

(via chrisxem)

Today Means Absolutely Nothing Anymore.

Everything is now reduced to rubble entirely. Destruction of something that was once beautiful, at least in my opinion. The things we said to each other, the things we did with each other— To each other. All gone, like nothing ever happened. If that’s how you truly feel, that you didn’t miss me at all and the thought of me never crossed your mind.. Fine. Then you never loved me to begin with. And I’m fine with that. I’ll move on eventually. Until then, I’m going to heal slowly and make everything fall into place for myself. 

You used to be such an amazing person.. And now, you’re a monster. Just my luck that the only person I cared about turned into the biggest monster I’ve ever created. You’re now nothing to me. In every way, shape, and form. This is what you wanted right? Well, you got it. You regretted me in every way possible so it’s only proper that I disappear and the memories of you are to be erased. You’ll just be a passing face that I never knew.

2-24-10 11:48am is now just a day and time that I never remembered.

2-24-12 1:07pm is the day I woke up from a deep coma with no memory of you.

Goodbye.

This is my twin brother Jacob. He gets me through the roughest of times, and I couldn’t thank him enough for putting up with my shit. This is who I live for. I can be at the edge of a cliff, and he’d be the only person able to convince me to never jump. I love you brother<3

To Be Strange, Like Me.

I’ve always thought I was something… Different. Something strange. 

My mom always told me, “You’re something special. People would appreciate having you in their lives. You have something a lot of people would kill to have.” But just today, I realize that it isn’t the case. If I was really something special, why would I constantly be run into the ground by others? Why would I suffer from abuse by the majority of society? Seems strange, no?

I’ve considered the possibility that I may not be the nicest, or the most sensitive of people. I lack a filter on my mind and mouth, and that may be an issue. It isn’t intentional, it’s how I’ve been all my life (Well, when I started to become more vocal and open in my sophomore year of high school). I’ve had ways of venting my anger, typically by hurting the closest people to me when I’d have the slightest bit of irritation or a bad day. I’ve had an anger problem for about 6 and a half years now, pretty much since I lost my dad to lung cancer during my freshman year. So you could see how quick I went from quiet, shy, unsociable, and sheltered Briana.. All the way to outspoken, social butterfly, outrageous, crazy, sarcastic, bitchy, and blunt Briana.

I felt like I had no one. I needed to make friends so I wouldn’t feel so alone. I wanted to change and have people like me, instead of being considered strange and weird while sitting in a corner like I did my whole life. I wanted to be someone. So I created this world in my head, where I knew exactly how to act, what to say, and what to do. I wanted to entertain and be the person I always wanted to be. And thus, this person I am now was born. But even when you’re the person you want to be, your flaws always find a way to surface.

I’m not saying that I dislike who I am now, I love every ounce of me without a doubt. But I figure, because of how I lost my dad and several others throughout my high school years, that I lost my sensitivity to other people’s feelings as well as my own. Things don’t affect me so much, death never scares me or makes me question my actions. I simply do, and whatever happens, happens.  I’ve always been blunt and said it like it is. Sure, people would get upset with me. They’d tell me I was rude and insensitive to them and their situation. My typical response would be, “At least I was honest. If I sugar coat things, you won’t learn to be able to deal with harder truths throughout your entire life. Nobody’s going to baby you.” 

I’ve had a lot of verbal abuse throughout my life. I was a victim to internet bullying and had been pushed around a great deal in middle school. Nobody was ever sensitive to my feelings, I was always treated as if I was hard as steel. And by them doing that, I became steel. When someone says something so harsh, I don’t sit there and cry about it, nor piss and moan. If anything, I go back and respond the same as them. Apparently, it’s strange that I was able to take all of it and not show any sign of hurt in me, just a smile. People would stare at me, and wonder why I wasn’t breaking down into either tears or rage. There’s a lack of surprise in anything people say to me. I know what I am, and what I’m capable of. Therefore, you don’t know shit. Simple as that.

Because of this scenario repeating itself, I knew how to hurt someone. I knew what to say, what to do, even how the situation would play out. Words held no meaning to me, if I knew it would hurt you, I’d use it. The worst part: It would be with a smile on my face. Of course, it would only happen when I felt that I needed to defend myself. I would never hurt someone who had done absolutely nothing to me. But there it was again, I was being called strange for being able to say things of such magnitude so loosely, without a care about the reaction. 

What I fear, is that maybe I’m too strange for society? I never allow people to see me cry, or hear about it. They can read about my depression and sadness, but never see. I allow them to read my anger, my rage.. Nobody will witness my abuse though; To and from me. I let them read and hear, but let them remain blind. Apparently it’s strange to able to take on and deal out so much abuse, keep it too myself, not have a guilty conscience, and still haven’t lost my mind yet. It always traces back to me being strange. I can’t seem to run away from it. The term ruined me.. And I can’t be happy knowing that I’m so strange…

This may be the reason why people stay so distant. The reason why I can’t maintain some sort of relationship or happiness. Even then, I fake happiness. That’s as fake as I go. I know how to hold my smile as well as an actor can keep in character. I thought my life was all about progression, but at this point it’s become regression. I’m falling back into being home, lonely, crying every night. When I go out and talk to people, I keep that smile on and laugh continuously. And once I set foot into my room, it comes off quicker than a dress off a drunk woman about to engage in a one night stand for shits and giggles. I change, put my hair back, take that make up off, and sit in front of this computer screen.. Then I’m reminded that I’m still strange.

I watch everyone else move through their lives, while I stay stagnant. I could be one of these happy people, sailing through and growing into their lives. Instead, I’m here wasting away in a shithole town with only a handful of friends and a job that doesn’t pay enough for me to be on my own… And all while being strange as ever.

Come to think of it, this job is what keeps me the least bit happy. I look forward to seeing the kids I work with. They’re the people that put an actual smile on my face. Kids are sincere, unlike people themselves. They’re the ones that call me pretty and mean it, telling me they like having me around because I care about them more than their teachers. I aspire to help them succeed, and reward them for doing so as well. They don’t make me feel so strange. It’s like watching myself all over again, and in that I try to make the ones that remind me of myself happier. I don’t want to see more people like me. Because to be me, is to be miserable on the inside, happy on the outside. 

Point is, if nobody has noticed yet, is that I was always being made fun of for being strange. To this day, I’m still considered so. I’ve learned to cope with it. But the term follows me like a shadow. Or even a curse, for that matter. “Too weird to live, too rare to die.” That’s my only positive outlook on the matter. I guess it’s because I haven’t met anyone else remotely like me. I feel really alone with this. It affects who I hang out with, how people perceive me, and who can stand me. 

It makes me thankful for the friends that stick by me in all my weirdness. Now if only I can find someone to love that will accept my weirdness in it’s entirety. This is starting to feel more like something out of Beauty And The Beast. Me being the Beast obviously. At least I can giggle about my flaws, right?

There’s a lot people don’t know. I say that I don’t have secrets, in which case I don’t. But nobody knows the web I have weaved and the price I paid for creating it in the first place. The price I paid was that I’m still strange in my entirety. Nobody seems to accept that, or like it. What my mother always told me made me special, is really what made me an outcast. Maybe one day, I can be content with being simply, strange.

Not Dreams, But Nightmares.

I despise when I dream of people that I either no longer speak to, or refuse to speak to, and even more so the people I don’t want/need/have in my life anymore. It’s almost as if life does it to see what you will do next, or how you will interpret it. It’s meant to fuck with your mind to make you lose it entirely. I think I speak for everyone when I say that we don’t need this shit. We need to live our lives. Why look back on the past, when you have the future sitting on those steps in front of you? It makes no sense.. Well, aside from you want to remember what you’ve learned or how things were then. But there isn’t any need to remember it, you know what you know now and should keep moving. Common sense. If you don’t keep moving, you will be stuck in the past while everyone else is far ahead of you…

Anyways the dream I had last night, which was really a nightmare in my opinion, goes like this….

I’m in a full car with a bunch of people I don’t know, but one. One person, whom we both have deep-seeded hate for each other, is sitting next to me. I have the window seat on the left, I’m not facing them. Need I remind you, that even the hate is transferred into this dream, we can’t stand sitting next to each other. About what feels like an hour goes by, tension is at it’s peak, and suddenly this person places their arm around me. Of course, this was a shock to me. I didn’t move at all though. I allowed this to continue. The rest of that car ride their arm stayed there. When the car stopped, I got out and the car left. Then I woke up.

This dream doesn’t seem right at all. This is bothering me. The last thing I want to dream about is you. The last thing I want to be sitting next to you is you. And the last thing I want is to even see you. What part of that doesn’t my mind understand? I hate you, therefore, get out of my head. I can’t wrap my head around why this happened. So random, so out of nowhere. Oh well. It’s just a dream anyways… Err, nightmare actually. I’m going to find something to occupy my mind instead of this.

Photo By: Kim Johnson. http://011285.tumblr.com <3

chrisxem:

there was a point in my life when i had everything i ever needed, until i ruined it. but you know what…i’m still happy.

Breaking in the new Hello Kitty bong. Love it!