A Storm of Thoughts

Song of the Day: Pompeii by Bastille

Lately I’ve been responding to almost everything with apathy. Everything is now meh. Which is better than my usual over-emotional self, but it bothers me. It bothers me because I want feelings, but just the good ones. In other words, I want to be happy.

I’m not miserable, I’m just moderately content with my life right now. To explain further, I’m a spontaneous person. I like things to happen in quick succession, like a flash of images passing through my eyes, I like to feel strong, crippling emotions that leave me out of breath, I want to be so happy I can’t contain myself. I can’t stand stillness, it’s boring, it’s dull and it feels like silence.

And nothing bothers me more than something that’s out of my control. When there’s nothing I can do to fix it. It’s better when it’s my fault, as I’ve mentioned in a previous post, but when I can’t explain it...when no one can’t, then I feel like my whole body is going to burst of frustration. Perhaps, that fix is to let everything go. To stop trying to think like someone else and let life happen. I’ll probably never know why things go the way they do, but if there’s nothing I can do about it, what is the point of worrying about it? I think that if it doesn’t happen, then it wasn’t good to begin with. Although I can’t explain it, I do not view life as a collection of random occurrences. Things do happen for a reason, and every single thing that’s happened to me, big or small has led me where I am today, so the universe – for lack of a better term of the unknown force that may or may not control the entire yarn of existence - is probably far wiser than I am. I’m a person that does not plan things, because what’s the point in that? To quote alt-band Paramore, “it’s not the way you plan it, it’s how you make it happen.”

There is no point to linger in memories because time does not wait for us, it just moves forward (or does it? That is a debate for another time). What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay to let things go, if they don’t work. Go ahead, delete that conversation. There’s no point in waiting for people that don’t give two shits about you. It’s fine, because the truth is, there are people that are worth your time, and believe me, you’ll know when you meet them. It’s fine because this time it’s not a heartbreak, it’s a minor nuisance. This time you’re angry because you wasted your time, not because you were hurt. This time you know you’ve grown and those silly little things don’t hurt you at all anymore, and you’re this strong person you once hoped you’d be.

So, this feeling of apathy might not be so bad after all. That is, because I’m proud of myself. I might’ve lost the battle, but I’ve won the war. Let me close this post with a few pictures (for lack of .gifs) from the great Kelly Kapoor. 

Also (here's a .gif yayyy!!!):

Who's that girl?

Song of the Day: 22 by Taylor Swift

I'm back in Glasgow. I spent most of my day binge-watching Inside Amy Schumer (again?!) and a few episodes of The Office.
It feels good watching women I can relate to; Amy Schumer, Mindy Kaling, Amy Poehler, Zooey Deschanel. All my life I've been told to be less emotional, to stop crying so easily, to wear stop being so girly. No. To quote Jessica Day from New Girl, "I just wanted to listen to Taylor Swift alone."
That's me.
Actually, let me describe myself with a few .gifs. However you pronounce that. (I say it with a soft g motherfuckers).

When I go out:

Also when I go out:

The rest of my life:

Every time I see something cute:

How I'm trying to act when someone flirts with me:

What ends up happening:

Also, when I make a really REALLY dumb decision:

A few hours later:

A few days later:

And finally, when people tell me to be this or that:

What also feels good is listening to Justin Timberlake late at night. Damn you Jessica Biel!

I tricked you! This was another post about my FEELINGS. Yeah. I bet you thought you were going to read something interesting!

Wait...this is a blog that barely anyone reads so...yeah. It's another sparsely populated corner of the internet where I vaguely describe my life. 

Oh and, Ireland was interesting. I enjoyed Belfast far more than Dublin. Belfast was a cozy little town, oddly connected to two things that are synonymous with death and misery: The Titanic and Game of Thrones.

Right! I almost forgot! There's a new episode tonight! There's a lot of blood and death and...poop. 

It's FUN!

The final frontier

Two posts on the same day? She must be pretty angry! Well, yes I am, thank you very much.

Sometimes I think: wtf is my life??? 

I should be watching The Mindy Project again and again to remind myself why serial dating is a bad idea. Also to remind myself that Danny was a dick too. Also, to try to stay as sober as possible at weddings. 

If there's a character similar to me on tv, that's Jessica Day from New Girl. I'm weird, I'm awkward, I'm dorky as hell and wayyy too mushy and emotional. I even cried at that movie where a guy dies and his dog's waiting for him until it dies too. 

I even cry when I see cute babies in diaper ads or when I listen to Taylor Swift. I don't get the Nicks and Schmidts and Coaches of the world. I'm confused. Like Psyduck. 

People hate drama. What's that even supposed to mean? Am I expected to change myself; to be less emotional, to stop crying at silly things? 

Is it because I'm a cat lady? 

Guess what, I'm fucking proud to be a cat lady. Cats are awesome and I own several clothes depicting them. 

Fuck this. I'm not going to change myself to please someone else, 'cause I'm pretty damn awesome. And if I'm not good enough for you, that's your loss. 

I'm hella rad and that is not debatable. 

Don't be a dick

Song of the Day: Hey Now by London Grammar

I wanted to write something eloquent today. And I can't. I'm not okay. I should be okay. I'm in Dublin, I should be having fun but I keep thinking that everything's wrong. Things are going sour again and whose fault is it? I want to blame myself, 'cause if it's me, then I can fix it, but if I'm not the one that's controlling things - if I'm not the one to blame, then who am I going to blame? I'm confused and angry, I'm sad and I'm lonely, and I'm not even sure why. What's happening? I feel like a spectator in my own show; I'm sitting here wondering, waiting, not knowing what's going on. Maybe I miss my friends from home. Maybe I miss my cat. Maybe all I need is to binge-watch a show. Maybe I'll never be okay. Maybe everything's going to be fine. 

What I'm trying to say is, I know nothing. I don't understand life, I don't understand people, I don't understand God, I don't understand the way the universe works. I'll never know and that's fine with me. But why do we have to make things complicated? Why are our thoughts clouded with fear? Why do we say things to make others feel bad? Why don't we just paint the world in true colours? Why don't we say what we think? We're not getting any younger. So why do we do the things we do?  Point is: don't be Jim Halpert. Don't let fear get in the way of what you want. Take risks, 'cause if you don't, you'll always mourn what you lost. Also, don't be a dick.

One does not simply have fun in Mordor

Song of the Day: Lord of the Rings Medley by Lindsey Stirling

I am sometimes nostalgic. Nostalgic of times I've only heard of. I'm sure they weren't as great as I picture them to be.
Yes, there was death at every corner, and disease and people could come and set fire to your village or slaughter your whole family. And lets not talk about discrimination.
But there were swords! And bows! And everyone wore leather! And people rode horses, not cars. And you could go on an adventure, like Bilbo did in The Hobbit, or Eragon in the Inheritance Cycle!
And people drank ale, not beer. Cider, not appletinis. Wine, not coke. They smoked pipes, not cigarettes.

If you asked me, where would you rather live: Lord of the Rings or Star Trek universe?
I'd say: Lord of the Rings, because in ST's alternate universe, Spock's taken. And in the other one, Kirk's dead, so...While in LOTR, I could have Legolas. Maybe...I picture Gimli and I, dueling for Legolas' heart. I'd win. Fuck you Gimli.
No, I'd rather be in Alagaesia. Then I could have a dragon best friend. And I'd finally get over my fear of heights. Hopefully.

Wait. Why wouldn't you want to be in your own books' world?
'Cause it sucks, that's why. Everyone's a dick there and there are no dragons whatsoever. So why would I want to go there?
Plus, you know how I feel about my book.

Wouldn't it be great if we could get inside video games? Problem solved. And if we died, we could resurrect at our last save point. Awesome, right?
No, you know what? All I want is my full set of Nightingale Armour and my Nightingale Bow from Skyrim, along with a few Ebony Arrows. No, wait. Daedric Arrows are better. I'll have both. Actually, I'll have my whole Skyrim inventory (that has a capacity of 7,000 - I'm a hoarder, I know) because I can't live without sweetrolls and jazbay grapes. And Auriel's Bow is so pretty. :)

Goodbye. I'm going on an adventure.

Don't diss the sonic!

Song of the Day: Enchanted by Owl City

I need a first-person shooter. Or to punch people. In video games, not in real life though. Mostly cause I can't. I'd probably break my knuckles or something.

There's an achievement in Saints Row The Third that you get to unlock if you shoot a certain amount of enemies in the balls. It's much more fun than headshots.

TKO, says Justin. Yeah I'm listening to JT again. I'm still not over 'N Sync breaking up. (wasn't that like twelve years ago?)
Yeah, I feel like I've been TKO-d.

Truth is, I'm the kind of person that loves to overanalyse things instead of letting them go. I'm not chill, okay?
I'm not relaxed, carefree, or whatever slang word there is to describe people that aren't paralysed with overwhelming anxiety 24/7.

Well, it's way past New Year's Eve, but I'll make my resolution now, in June. I'll be chill. I'll be cool. Whatever happens, happens. Most likely nothing, in which case, there's no reason for me worrying. I should stop thinking of how things would be if only this and that had worked out and start living in the now. I've got to learn to live with my choices, 'cause I made them for a reason. I guess.

Incoherent ramblings in Klingon

Song of the Day: Love Stoned / I Think She Knows by Justin Timberlake

My muffins did not taste as good as I expected them to. Sad face.

Boom boom boom boom boom boom.

So, I spent the day watching tv. As per usual. Tv is relaxing. It can be funny, sad, weird, shocking, exciting. But that's not why I watch stuff on tv. The reason is that, for once, I don't have to make decisions. I don't really have to think. Things happen and there's nothing I can do to stop them, whether I want to or not. You could argue that life like's that, but it's not. Because, you see, in life, even if you can't control things, you feel like you could - that there's something you could do. You believe you did something wrong, that somehow you screwed things up, even if, in reality, there was no way for you to alter the course of things. At least, that's how my mind works. 

Isn't it great how on tv, people end up together, no matter the obstacles? They make it look so easy, so effortless like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whereas in life, people are much more stupid. Or I'm stupid. I don't know. 

Or maybe I binge-watched too much of The Mindy Project and Parks and Recreation. 

(more personal stuff about me below. you've been WARNED.)

I think I need to point out I'm an introvert. I'd love to be an extrovert, believe me, 'cause it's really hard feeling all weird around people, and having others thinking you're aloof or worse, stuck up. But I'm not, and I can't change the way I am. I love sitting at home watching tv and I also love hanging out with other people. I'm just weird when interacting with them, and that's the problem. Something that gets worse when someone flirts with me and I like him, 'cause I get even weirder and I think I give guys the impression I'm not interested. Well, dude, unless you ask me out or message me, or even make someone else ask me (if you're so scared of me, wtf am I Maleficent? and even if you chose to do that I'd answer 'cause I'm really not ashamed of who I like, it's not like it's this HUGE secret like it was in primary school and if someone found out, you'd die of terror [that actually happened to me, but that's another story for another time]) you're probably not going to know. 

OH DEAR GOD IS THIS ABOUT A GUY AGAIN, WILL YOU SHUT UP?

No. Yes. Well no. I'm talking in general. Or not. Guess. 

Okay this is simple. I wish I could have this on a t-shirt: If you like me, ask me out. 

If I had a dime for all the guys that never worked up the courage to ask me out I'll be living in a mansion and my cat would have a butler. Seriously.