Alone

Now marks the 3 ½ months that I’ve been living independently on my own, released from abusive parents who have done nothing but make my life a living hell. No, that’s not it. That form of expression is too generic. They didn’t make my life a living hell. They made me feel like I was enclosed in a tight jail cell, and they made me feel inferior to the rest of society by underestimating me the best their combination of insulting words could handle. They would constantly express resentment about the kind of “failure” I turned out to be, wishing I were like my older sister and everyone else in the entire world who hold more credentials than me. It was so easy for them to talk down on me like that because they probably never experienced how it feels like to come home every day to hear family members calling you names left and right. I was like their punching bag, which was available for them to use when anger strikes, whether I caused it or not. I would like to let them know that I’m doing everything that they told me I could never do, which is to have a job and live on my own. It wasn’t until recently that I came in to terms of the reality I was now living. Wow, Keziah…is actually on her own? Weeiird.

I don’t have many friends. I feel like I try to shun people out of my life on purpose in order to prevent drama entering into my pre-existing dramatic life. There are many acquaintances and not-so-close-friends in my life, who do have the potential to be close to me. I don’t know what it is, but I think I’m socially challenged. Like, I can easily communicate within society, but once I get past that acquaintance barrier, I am lost with directions on how to proceed further with the interaction. Not only that, I always feel skeptical if the people I want to be friends with are worthy of altering the rhythm of my solitary life. I finally came in to terms of my reality when a 20-something year old guy I met briefly at Wal-Mart engaged in a small conversation with me. I’m not at all vulnerable when random guys try to hit me up, but this one somehow gave me a reality check. It was the most sincere random chat I’ve ever had. He asked general questions about what I do, what I do for fun and such. In all honesty, I didn’t say a lot aside from working 2 jobs and struggling to pay bills. He simply said I need to start living. After our conversation ended, I sat in my car after loading up my groceries and then wired myself in deep thought: Wow, my life sucks!

It’s a major adjustment living on my own. I do have a roommate, but we’re so different from one another that we don’t bother hanging out. Even though I don’t regret running away from my past, I come home to a quiet apartment, unless my roommate is watching ESPN or having a few friends over. I don’t come home with someone to hug, laugh or eat with. I want that. I want that human connection that we all have need of – the warmth you get in your heart when you know you have someone to be there for you. I’ve been living the majority of my life in solitude comfortably up until now. After 22 years, this lifestyle is now haunting me. Love is nonexistent. I suffocate not being able to speak mournful words to someone in times of troubles. It feels like there’s a huge gaping void in my heart that is desperate to be filled. All this is a result of me choosing to live alone,

When will I stop?

Up close and personal

What do you think the average 22-year-old female does on her free time? Drink? Party? Get high? Is this normal? It seems like I’m surrounded by individuals who crave for such things. These “people” somehow are polluting my perception of people. I am for sure not everyone in my age group would get involved in such promiscuous activities like these. Do you want to know what I do on my free time? You could either catch me reading or writing. Yeah, that’s right. Let me restate: I would be reading or writing on my free time. Yes, it’s fun. I am willing to admit that I do a pretty darn good job at my productive hobby. You should try it because I absolutely love it! Call me boring. To be honest, I did have my phase of living a crazy life – a life that was left absent from my sheltered upbringing. My parents, who failed at parenting, never gave me the chance to have a taste of reality. This is where the rebel lying dormant within me unleashed very late in life. Though I didn’t approve of the irresponsible nightlife, I wanted to have experience. I couldn’t have a say against it unless I have experienced it, right? It’s like saying, “I hate sushi” when you never even tried it. So, I did a little this and that, which lasted for no more than 3 months, and then that was it. I got tired and became a little paranoid about the slippery slope my life was downgrading to. I will no longer connect with people who can potentially inflict poison in my life.  I know I’m better than this. I know I’m responsible, and I know I have a future ahead of me. In other words, I matured very early in life…or to look at this on a negative note, I am “boring”.

Critique the blurb for my upcoming novel

You know the little paragraph on the back of a novel that subtly describes what the whole novel is going to be about? Well, that’s a blurb. I have bits and pieces of my book written all over the place, but it’s a challenge to tie it up together. Despite the fact, I have successfully (I think) wrote a blurb. Tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome. That is what makes me better at what I do.

Jaime McCoy is a strong-willed, responsible 23-year-old who makes ends meet to keep her life afloat. Upon moving out of an abusive and sheltered household, she faces new challenges she never thought coming. From unexpectedly falling in love with her college professor, and experimenting with promiscuous activities she’s never done before, she begins to unravel to herself who she really is.

This is all that is going to be revealed about my book that may never get published, anyway, but it’s always great to stay positive and seek what’s possible!

Living in a Dramedy

These past few months have been nothing, but work. This was the kind of life I wanted, anyway – engaging in a productive lifestyle where days off don’t exist. I recently experienced my first day off in an X amount of uncountable weeks and I was clueless as to what to do. I went mental, started fidgeting and screaming to myself, “Do something!” I crashed, and I burned. It sounds silly, I know. Just imagine a full 24-hour day off popping into your normal routine of working an average of 50-60 hours a week. It was like someone disrupted my train of thought solving an impossible math problem. The feeling was sickening. When I came into terms that I was given the despair of a day off, there was an option to clean my bedroom (like the photo below), which has been left unmaintained for so long, but it was like I lost the ability to do so. I created the life I’ve been living as an emotional shield for me to not worry about petty issues, which has been a slippery slope to becoming a fully blown, emotionless robot. The only worries I’ve had were to take extra care of my guests to make enough money in tips. It’s like my life has been led on autopilot for so long that my past hobbies were left neglected. My work overpowered my life.

…but not for so long.

I guess you could say I’ve had tough luck getting fired left and right from my waiting jobs. Anyway, should it even be called “tough luck”? At the end of the day, it’s only a restaurant that broke up with you. I don’t think getting fired from a typical waiting job is honorable enough to mope about. One of the few jobs available to felons are in the service industry – sorry to be blunt. I got fired twice in the last 2 months. After getting fired from the first, I immediately found a new one less than 2 days later, all the while I held onto my hourly hostessing job I use as a safety net because you have to work hard to get fired from that one. I’m starting to come to terms that maybe, just maybe I’m a terrible server. Not that it means anything. I was 2 hours late working last Easter Sunday, which was the last straw for my last employer to let me go. It was probably one of the best things to happen to me in this phase of my life. I was terribly obsessed with making money that I didn’t have use for it because I’m working so much. The past few days I’ve had off surprisingly did not give me that sickening feeling I expected – it was alleviating, enlightening and anything synonymous to refreshing. I was able to pick up on my past hobbies, ie: photography, and of course, like what I’m doing now, writing. For the meantime, I’m just going to stick to my safety net job while aiming higher for a better occupation. Maybe I should go back to school. I don’t know…

On the very same day I got the “appalling” news I got fired from my second waiting job of the year, I wanted to celebrate. I got myself dressed up to go out with some friends later in the night. I guess not working was apparently bad luck because I got into a car accident whilst parking near a restaurant for me to finally get served on. Good news is that it wasn’t my fault and the man who hit me is taking full responsibility and I am expecting a hunky check later in the mail. Yaay, for being hit!

Here are the photos of the aftermath of my car:

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Intrapersonal Chat

Your brain freezes. You fumble with your words. Your personality changes dramatically standing in close proximity with him and your eyes lose direction of where to look. You’re afraid to have to pretend not to notice him noticing you, or vice versa? Stop thinking so much. Oh, my God! Why is your heart rate going out of control? Ah, slow it the fuck down! Sheesh! You look stupid. You wonder why you act so naturally around other people except that person. It’s because you think so much. Stop pretending. Admit it. Admit what’s on your mind, your feelings. It’s so obvious, anyway. It’s not high school anymore. We’re adults. We don’t pretend. We express. What do you got to lose? You never even made a trifling subtle move. We live one life and that person is just another person – another human. So what? Who cares? How long has it been? What could that person possibly do to you – another human as well? Haha, I’m shaking my head at you. You’re weak and pathetic. Just please, please don’t be shy. I really want to hurt you right now for feeling this way.

And here’s a random picture I took of a squirrel for your viewing pleasure…

Detox

It’s a surprise how I’m still breathing…or is it only my imagination? The amount of stress piling onto my shoulders have surpassed on what I thought would be my limit. Now I survived, and still am in the process of surviving episodes of immense trial and error pains of what I’d like to call life. I’ve learned a lot – more than I asked for. Should I be proud of the hell life puts on me? Well, yes. It only makes me more immune to anger, shame, guilt, sorrow, sadness…the whole nine yards.

Desensitized. No other word in the English language could describe me any better. Could life be lived better like an emotionless robot? Could you imagine a world where no emotions exist – positive emotions, let alone the negative?  You can’t feel happiness as a robot. I haven’t genuinely felt that way in quite some time. Maybe I am a robot, it’s just not confirmed yet.

I went grocery shopping at Whole Foods Market to buy ingredients for my Master Cleanse detox diet. You have no idea how hard it is to find Grade B maple syrup. ANYway, in the process of consuming nothing but water, lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup, I felt pain. I couldn’t distinguish if it was physical hunger or my taste buds just craving food. Maybe both. But then I realized, the longer I put through with this strict diet, the better my results will be in the end. Willpower – that’s the answer. You get stronger and stronger the more you train yourself the feel pain, emotionally or physically. In the end, you realize how much you can accomplish. Over time, the experiences you once thought was terrible, may not be as terrible as when you initially experienced them. You don’t always have to view every unfortunate event in a dim light. View it as a way of putting yourself in an emotional detox diet.

TMI Disorder

Is there such a thing? I found that even though I’d prefer to live a covert lifestyle, I am bound to say just a liiitle bit too much about myself especially when I get deep into a conversation. Why’s that? Why do I, without thinking, feel compelled to spill my whole life story when it is not deemed necessary? I revealed to one of my coworkers that I ___________________ and it was something I’ve kept a secret for almost a year. I have successfully lived a double life and it has faltered in the midst of our 5 minute conversation. I guess it’s not so bad to let a few folks know the gist of my secret life…is it? There are some people who are open to speak of this specific lifestyle I am living, but it is frowned upon. I, myself, am not proud of it, but it is what I have to resort to to survive. Shame.

Resolution for the new year 2012

Before I begin, I want to point out the uselessness of celebrating the new year. I mean, it’s just another day. We midas well celebrate everyday. Every single day of each and every year is unique in its month, day and year – Like January 1st, XXXX.

I didn’t have any resolution for this year. Maybe it’s just a continuation of 2011′s resolution – the generic work out and eat healthy type lifestyle. I’ve been fairly successful. I still maintain a steady routine of jogging and/or hitting the gym 3-4 times a week and being conscious of what I consume. Nothing too difficult unless you’re a lazy, undetermined bum. Due to my fitness level, it has unintentionally caused me to look down on others who don’t take physical care of themselves. It’s not that hard! Just be strict to yourself for 7 days. Before you know, you’ll create a habit out of it. Will power never felt so good.

Most of my friends’ resolutions were to concentrate more on school. Yeah, it’s another decent, generic type of resolution as well, but for the first time, this idea has plummeted down on my personal to-do list. I will touch on it very lightly for this post, and elaborate more in the future. The only people who will have ease of access to colleges/universities are those who have rich, supportive parents, or are borderline homeless. I’m the working poor, so I definitely don’t benefit financially either way.

Below is an intriguing video of how college isn’t for everyone. I have a low attention span on the internet, and since I was glued to the screen watching this entire 1 hour video, then it’s probably decent enough for you, too.

When reality slaps you in the face

On the second day living independently in my newly leased apartment, I realized my landlord doesn’t tell me everything…

I woke up on this innocent day getting ready for work, got dressed, and about to take on the day. I walked out the door to anticipate a silver Acura RSX in the same corner I parked it the night prior. Little did I know, the car was essentially…missing. I was then beginning to slowly sink in what was really happening. “Shiiiit” I thought to myself. “I should’ve known my car would get stolen in this dangerous burglar-prone area.” I was in major panic mode, veins pulsating loudly through my numb ears in the wicked cold weather. Unsure of how I was supposed to react, I tried to remain calm. As I wandered aimlessly through the barren parking lot, a large bright red sign popped up in front of my eyes a mere 12 hours too late. “Unauthorized parking will be towed at owner’s expense.” Oh, bull-fucking shit!

So I regretfully woke up my newly be-friended roommate about the surreal nightmare I was facing. She didn’t have a car so she gave me all DART bus and train route information and such. Never in my entire life did I have to exclusively depend on mass transit. Turns out my car has been impounded near Stemmons Fwy and Royal Ln – pretty much the most worn down area in Dallas. I had to take a bus, ride the train and then waaaaalk nearly .5 miles to the specific impound location. That .5 mile walk is an experience I never want to face ever again. I got old scary, unhygienic men winking, whistling and honking their horns at me on the streets. A guy drove by my side going no more than 5 mph, opened his windows and said, “Hey, why don’t you come on in for a ride?” I kindly acknowledge his offer and said no thanks and proceeded forward. The supposed .5 mile walk turned in a 1 mile walk due to inadequate street labeling. I depended on Google maps on my phone to help direct me to the location. Even with that, I was still lost. The battery icon was blinking, my fingers numb, preventing me to use my phone with ease. I was afraid to touch my phone once again because it may shut off at any moment. With much effort, I stared at the dimmed screen reflecting in the bright sunlight and tried to memorize the route as best my mind could handle. This day is just not my day. As I then walked a couple blocks forward, that same guy from before drives in front of me, blocking my path and pleads with me to jump in his car. Out of all days that I carry Mace with me, why didn’t I carry one with me now?

Phew! After the sequence of treacherous events, destination has arrived. I was only able to pay with both a credit card and a debit card because I only have an insufficient X amount of dollars and credit on both cards. The receptionist gave me the inconvenient news that in order for me to use 2 different kinds of cards, I have to pay $6 cash. Wow, I came all the way here risking rape and death and she tells me I have to pay 6 cash to use 2 cards? She was definitely bullshitting me. I wanted to cry. I pleaded and told her my situation. I just threw in 2 crumpled up dollar bills and told her that’s the only cash I have with me. Lacking sympathy, she gave in to my plea. I finally reunited with my RSX. I never missed it so much. On my car ride back to the same place I came from, I was out $180. I was agonizing what happened the first 3 hours of the innocent day I woke up to. I got late tuition fees student loans didn’t pay for, cell phone bills and definitely going to pay back that hundreds of dollars debt I have from my credit card, not to mention rent.

Does god hate me?

The beauty music brings

“Music makes me forget my real situation. It transports me into a state which is not my own. Under the influence of music, I really seem to feel what I do not feel, to understand what I do not understand, to have powers which I cannot have. Music seems to me to act like yawning or laughter; I have no desire to sleep, but I yawn when I see others yawn; with no reason to laugh, I laugh when I hear others laugh. And music transports me immediately into the condition of soul in which he who wrote the music found himself at the time.”

Leo Tolstoy