I Cried Wolf

I am on the dreaded "break" with Zachary. Breaks are just these stop signs before moving up towards heartbreak. I mean they're supposed to be a reason to save a relationship. And I do believe they help, but it's hard not to lose all hope sometimes.
Being on a break is dangerous territory for me however. Breaks are the in between. You don't have a boyfriend, but you aren't welcome to the perks of being single either. Which isn't so bad unless you're me. I seem to need affection at all times and if I'm not getting it from Zachary, I might start to stray- not emotionally, just physically. That sounds terrible, but it's true. I really hate that I'm like that, but it's true. Sometimes I think I need to not get affection at all for a long time to condition myself to way I was before I ever had affection. Other times I accept this part about me and feel that it can't be all that wrong, especially when I know other girls are like this too. All I ever need is someone holding me. I love the feeling of arms wrapped around my body.
Not talking to Zachary has made me feel lonely. It's only been five days, but I talk to him a lot. I had no one to tell anything to. Boyfriend's are the only people you can pester with dull aspects of your life and they actually care or at least feel obligated to care.
Zachary and I have been having a hard time with one another. Hence the break. I just hope I don't get bright eyed by the first person who gives me the affection I'm yearning for.

STAY STRONG.

Girl Afraid

I have been wanting a certain someone back in my life for so long. I wrote about it in all of my previous posts. Every since we departed I could only think of how I would never be okay, while still trying to convince myself I would be okay. I got him back, I got him back 5 months ago (I put in the 5 months to validate the relationship status- people can get back together and have it only last for 2 hours). My life has progressed and regressed at the same time. 

I am happier. Apart from right now I rarely feel an uncomfortable sense of disappointment with my life- which used to consume me and drive me to write all the time. If I'm writing a new post in my blog it's a sure thing that I'm doing really great. And as you can see I have not written a new post probably since we got back together...until now. 

So why am I writing in this right now? I got the guy what else could I possibly need? Well I hate to admit it, but my ex boyfriend is kind of getting me down. This is going to sound uber typical, but here it is. I saw him at a party last night and I had heard about him being out and about all the time- drinking and smoking. He used to be a sober sally like me (I seem to drive the men I've scorned to partying and all things "fun"). And just now I stumbled upon a picture of him on facebook posted by a mutual friend. Really what's getting me down is he seems to have changed. He's broken out of his shell of not so many friends and looking like he's having fun. 

Which leaves me to, I wish I could break out my shell. It just seems like this will never happen for me. I have tried to figure out this college thing for going on three years. I want to understand getting high, but everytime I smoke I don't get high and I get sick. I want to understand being drunk, but I'm afraid that will also make me sick (I have a sensitive stomach). If I can understand one of those two things let loose maybe parties will be more fun. Maybe I can finally make friends. Jesus this would be the worst thing to show a D.A.R.E. class. But I'll tell you this officer Dan, I am one of the only people I know who doesn't drink, smoke, or party. I am also one of the most closed off, unexperienced, and sometimes loneliest human being I know. 

It really is about the things you regret for doing rather than the things you regret not doing. I can't seem to put this into motion. I swear I'll keep trying, I've been doing some major slacking off lately and you know school is not the only thing that deserves my attention. I also seem to forget that. I really need to go out, I need to have stories to tell. I need to learn. There are too many things I just don't know at the age of 21.

I have to stop being afraid. 

Silver or Gold

I was a Brownie. 

In Brownies there's this song about friends. 

The lines go:

"Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other gold. A circle is round it has no end, that's how long I want to be your friend."

Can we have friends forever?

I have tried to define what a friend is for a long time. 

It's difficult to identify real friendship from just people you know. 

I believe good friends are people that you talk with, see on a semi-regular basis, relate to, feel comfortable around, and have no sexual attraction towards on either side. 

I used to have two really good friends. 

They weren't perfect by any means, but they were my friends. 

The people that didn't make me feel like a outsider.

It was where I belonged. 

They both moved far for me. 

This strains my definition of friendship. 

We don't see each other often, talk very often. 

When I need them they can't always be there. 

So is there a point?

Is there a real reason to hold on to old friends?

Should you clench your grip,

let the rope burn your hands as it continues to slip?

or release?

My Favourite Button To Push Is Re-Wind

Are you afraid?

Not of the dark or ghosts or aliens. 

Are you afraid of the unknown, do you need control?

Does it comfort you to go through every single possibility, every single outcome-

to prepare yourself for what is to come?

Does it comfort you to know what will happen?

Are you watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants for the seventh time?

Are you watching it for the seventh time even though there are many other things to watch that you haven't already seen?

Are you listening to the same playlist on repeat?

Are you feeling better that you did?

You're afraid, and I am too.
I'm more afraid than anyone I know.

I lost someone who I loved very much, and when they weren't there anymore I craved familiarity. 

I haven't gotten over it. 

It has been half a year and I still need to watch Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants because I love knowing how it is and will be. I love knowing that I will love it, I love that every expectation will be met. 

I wish I still wasn't listening to the same pop playlist I wrote about in December, but I still play it at least once every two days. 

I'm so afraid of the unknown. 

I'm sure that's why I love Langhorne. 

I love my home, I love my cats, my family, my old friends. 

I just want everything to be the way it was. 

So the things I can control, 

movies, music. 

Stay the same, the way it used to be.

When I had it all. 

I had the guy, the love with the guy, the friends, the fun with the friends. 

I'm trying to find myself again. 

I want the friends again. 

I want the fun. 

I may never get the guy, but I know I can live without him.

It's been hard, but I know I can do it. 

And right now when I have no one to lean on, I'll let Sisterhood/Pop music be the shoulder I need.

That's The Competitive Spirit

I was born to argue with other people. 

I was also born to be an asshole and win arguments with people even its by pissing them off enough that they don't care to argue anymore (granted that's one of my biggest pet peeves). 

I love making a point and I love making people understand my point of view so well it becomes their own. 

You could also say I love manipulation. 

The best way to manipulate an argument is simple. I was just in an argument and had an epiphany that I say this simple sentence that generally resolves or at least brings the argument around almost everytime. 

Generally an argument is when two people take two different sides on the same topic. 

And when voices start to raise, just say:

"Do you understand where I'm coming from?"

It has the look and feel of a white flag that people respond to and

it also makes the person think if they answer "no" then they aren't comprehending the argument -automatically giving you a leg up. 

Besides most people like to think they're understanding and they'll just say yes.

But this brilliant line, after you've received the "yes"allows the other party to say that they get why you're arguing and almost bringing them to your side. 

You've got them. Almost.

Because a good opponent will say, 

"Yes, I understand that you blah blah blah because you blah blah blah, but I still think yadda yadda yadda because yadda yadda yadda.

Hopefully you don't have one of those. 

as "argtists" (arguer + artist) we hope our opponent will crumble after we've painted pictures of cruel accusations and used their own words against them. 

Sunny Sunny Day

I am so inspired. 

I have so many ideas in me, motivation, and everything I've been killing for. 

The last time I felt inspired was like 10th grade. 

Maybe I'm just having a good day. 

Still.

For Mother's Day I made my mother a necklace, and this pop-up card I spent like an hour or so on. 

I painted my nails all special just like ten minutes ago. 

It's the little things.

But really, it feels good to have the energy to put into things. 

I woke up today and had energy.

I go to work without having a panic attack. 

I look in the mirror and I don't feel hideous even if I am still breaking out and still trying to tell that extra 10 lbs to fuck off. 

I am yet again, getting back up. 

Even if it's just for a little while.

PYT: Perverted Old Things

I posted an ad on Craigslist for friends last night. 

It was mostly for giggles, but you never know what to expect. 

I should have expected many horny old dudes on Craigslist seeing 20 year old female and going bonkers. 

And get this,

I posted a picture of my cat. 

This picture of my cat:

Like these men are desperate. 

They have no clue how I look they just know I'm 20 and they have a hard on. 

It's pretty disgusting. 

Every so often I go on Chatroulette when I'm feeling bored and wanting to reach out to people. I know what you're thinking. Yes, I see a lot of dick when I go on there and yes it's super creepy. But believe it or not I'm pretty creepy myself. Anyhow, I went on last week and was talking to this Italian guy who was in Ireland. We were talking pretty casually. He was shitting on Ireland and I was shitting on America. It seemed really normal and he was cute and normal looking. Then I say my goodbyes and he points the camera down. And you guessed it! He was totally jerking it. 

I don't know if he was doing the whole time or just at the end, but men are fucking perverted as hell. 

Now, don't misunderstand me. I have been aware of this fact since I was like twelve (I pretty much had a C cup when I was twelve). I have been getting hollered at for almost half of my life now. People have addressed my large chest and some my booty. 

Point is, I'm pretty aware that men are perverted and I didn't just discover this now. 

However it never ceases to amaze me how much men respond to sex, rely on sex, and are stimulated by  almost any old thing. Correction: any young thing. 

-Remember back to when I said I have been getting hollered at since I hit way too early puberty-

I always wondered how far does this perversion go. 

I wondered when I was at dance classes in my tights and leotard, did the dads picking up their kids ever look at the older girls in that special perverted way?

or is that too far?

 Are there men who are decent and don't immediately think about sex when looking at a young female? 

Or is it impossible for them to not think about it?

I have been bitter towards men because of their strong interest in sex. 

I don't believe men and women can be friends if they're in any way attracted to one another. 

I have a lot of male "friends" and I have often wondered how legitimate the friendship actually is. 

What Comes With Age

You know, I talk a lot of my woes. I say I'm depressed, lonely, without friends or people who care about me. I say I'm heartbroken, confused, lost, and conflicted and this is true. I've never been so low. I keep trying to pick myself up and maybe one of these days I will. It just has been hell for a long time now.

 I've never understood how others felt before. I never sympathized with emotional people and I looked down on them. My life was easy, I didn't know it was possible to feel this terrible. I didn't know what it meant to live with unbearable feelings. I can honestly say I have learned from all this stress and emotional pain and hopefully once I make it through I can look at myself as strong human being- I'll actually be able to say that because I'll have overcome something instead of just being alright when everything was alright. 

I am amazed by some of the things my friends have been dealing with as well. As we get older and we are all, for the most part, on our own, life seems to be crueler and crueler. I would have never expected any of the stories my friends have told me to be true, to be something they actually had to experience in their lives. I just could never expect how horrendous life experiences can be. 

I don't suffer from the ever popular Peter-Pan Syndrome. I have never wished to be a child again, where life was simpler. Where we all sat around watching Blue's Clue's, or having slumber parties, or being a mall rat. I can look back at them fondly, but I have always wanted to be respected as an adult and not a child. I wanted to have conversations and have my opinion count and not just be discounted due to my age. I have always wanted to be in my mid-twenties to thirties. Those will be the glamourous days I thought. But as life progresses and shows me the horror of independence and the horror of reality I just don't know if I look forward to a future anymore. 

I always look forward to my professional future and career. I want to be successful and getting there excites me. But my personal life, by the way its been going and the way I've handled the stresses of it, I don't look forward to it. My personal life brings me such pain, I just wish to do away with it sometimes. 

I'm not hopeless yet, but i'm down.

I'll Be My Mirror

I had to redeem my drunken depressed post. 

My mood was a seven year old on a tire swing. 

I suppose the equation goes,

Nervous + Frustrated = Depression

Because I was up so late I was a bit drowsy for my first day, but I am ready to shed positive light.

It seems like this job will be actually as dreamy as it sounds. 

Everyone is so genuinely nice, and genuinely interesting. 

Maybe it's because they're all like thirty years old and closer to my spirit age of sixty-two.

Also ego boost- I had two people tell me there was a huge stack of applications and I must be some kind of special to be chosen. 

I AM SPECIAL. 

I feel accomplished and proud because I always think I just get things out of luck, but maybe I really did deserve it.

look at that attempt at positivity! 

I am really trying!

I made a sweet chocolate cake and I am back in the zone. 

I will be tired enough to go to bed at a decent hour tonight- before my alter ego appears

I might even read again. Maybe I won't even be me anymore.

Maybe I'll just read so many books and shun 1 Girl 5 Gays.

Take it away Whoopie.

 

Female Seeking M/F To Talk Incessantly On Phone Late At Night

I swear to you there is nothing more lonely than the night. 

If you're anything like me you are at your best at two forty AM. 

I am half nocturnal and it isn't crowded here. 

But really it's certain nights. Certain nights where there is just simply too much on my mind. 

There is no possible way I could shut down. 

I have my first day of work tomorrow (IGOTTHEJOB!) and I need to get up, but to get up I'll have to fall asleep.

When I have these nights, I used to call male companion Michael. 

Michael was the guy for me.

He wasn't my boyfriend, but he was reliable like one.

He shared the same sleep schedule: none. 

And we shared the same brain. 

He was the guy for me. 

I could call him at any hour and he would pick up, he would talk to me.

We would talk until I got tired, after I had released all the things in my head onto his ear. 

It was like when my father used to play guitar for me until I fell asleep.

But as Michael was not boyfriend before, he is not my boyfriend now. 

He is someone else's reliable guy and yes, you might be thinking:

"That's good for him, don't be a selfish girl bitch. Let him be happy."

I wish I could be, I don't have the patience for people like that.

People that cannot be friends when they have a boy/girl friend.

I don't need things to be exactly how they were, I just need is a friend.

And man, he is shitty at being a friend while being a boyfriend.

I hope people like that get dropped on their ass when their significant others break their heart and no one is there for them because they shit all over that friendship thinking they didn't need it anymore. 

It's a really shitty thing to do. 

I write in this blog with the hopes of releasing this anxiety I have. 

With the hope it can help me go to sleep if I write it all out. 

I can't imagine the world without the internet. 

How much lonelier I would feel.

Because even though I write knowing that only three people subscribe to this blog and maybe none of them actually read it, it's just the fact that it is out there. That this blog is readable. I mean apparently 9 people stumbled upon this page today. It might have been a mistake, they might have left immediately, but there's still the possibility that some fourteen year old girl in Milwaukee actually read this post. It just makes me feel a little less lonely. 

The internet may do a lot of shitty things, but it has always been there for me when I have been lonely. 

It's where I met the guy for me. 

But he isn't the guy for me anymore. 

I need replacements for him and pretty much everyone else that meant a lot to me. 

The person who actually read this post probably won't stick around for the next one due to the heavy self-pitying tone. 

Please accept my apology. 

SEX AND VIOLENCE SEX AND VIOLENCE SEX AND VIOLENCE

So I'm watching a Lifetime movie. 

Saturday Night.

Oh yeah.

Lifetime movies are a genre all their own. 

Who writes this shit?

What Does A Lifetime Movie consists of:

Female leads

Abusive boyfriends/husbands

Killers

Sociopathic girl bitches

Sex

Suicide attempts

Fat girls with issues

Skinny girls in fat suits

Obsession

Actors/actresses that are semi-familiar

Rape

Twists that so unrealistic you could never predict it

Plots that start to become easier to predict after getting the mindset of a Lifetime film

Troubled Teenagers

A true story that might have been true, but was definitely embellished 

But, you already knew that. 

Ah. The pleasures of home. There's nothing like a couch and real time television: 

Catching the movie at the same part every time

Catching the last part of the movie and then watching the beginning during an encore presentation

Watching bullshit movies like Sweet Home Alabama that you didn't like the first five times 

The art of switching between commercials and then forgetting about the other thing you were watching entirely

And of course the pleasures of DVR

Pausing to go to the bathroom

Pausing to get food

Pausing again because you forgot something to drink

Fast forwarding through commericals

Rewinding back after you fast forwarded through part of the show

Pausing and then hitting rewind/fast forward to watch in slow motion 

Getting pissed when it doesn't record the latest episode of America's Next Top Model

Becoming suicidal when all of your recorded shows get erased

All I can say is, I am thankful for a television companion. 

Click Your Vans Three Times

How sweet it is to be home. I can't wait to experience my summer at home, proper air conditioning, lack of bugs, abundance of cats, driving. I don't ever want to move out of here. 

I have so many things I want to do this summer. 

1. Get a job 

This actually seems really likely. I think the printing man liked me, and I didn't even have to bat my lashes! I should know by the end of the week, but even if I don't get this job I could fall back on this grocery store I worked last summer/winter break or even the movie theatre. But I'm really hoping on this printing place. Did I mention ten dollars an hour and maybe even full time? That would be like so much money. Like so many dresses. 

2. Work On Being A Brilliant Artist

I apparently have some crazy painting skillz according to my drawing teacher. It was seriously the coolest thing to have him say that I was advanced and was a natural. I also just really dig painting. It would be nice to do some self portraits and abstracts. If I'm feeling super crazy maybe I'll even do some still lifes. But I doubt it, cause that shit bores me. I also should buy Adobe Suite and learn how to tame that beast. For someone who is going to major in graphic design I really don't know my Illustrator/InDesign/Photoshop shit. I could just watch an insane amount of tutorials, but I can't imagine they're all too helpful without the actual programs which are, are you ready for this, four hundred and fifty whole dollars. It really cuts back on the dresses. 

3. Lose The Ten lbs. That I Gained Back By Not Being Depressed Or Sick.

When I was depressed it curbed my appetite like crazy. I kept off the weight that I lost when I was sick. Then when I got it back all hell broke loose. Now I eat like I used to. Yesterday in one meal I had a turkey sandwhich, hotdog, french fries, and two pieces of cake. I am clearly a gluttonous bitch. Now I don't know exactly how to lose this weight. I mean I hear diet and exercise works, but I am terrible at being motivated to work out and I love/need cake. I wish I was just anorexic again. When I was sad I only ate like one meal a day and was totally satisfied. The pounds just flew off! Fuck diet and exercise. Just get sad.

4. Visit My Bastard Friends Who Have Abandoned Me

My BFF has moved out completely and never comes back home. In fact she always corrects me when I call this place her home- but it totally is. She grew up here, I witnessed it. It's home. Get over yourself BFF. So I've had to visit her on random occasions just to see her. It's really depressing and I'm still trying to cope. Then my other close friend decided to stay at her apartment at college probably to stay near her son of bitch boyfriend and when I say son of a bitch I am not being flamboyant with curses I truly mean he is a goddamn son of a bitch waste of space. So anyways maybe I'll visit them if I don't get my full time job. Or maybe I should really just try and move on to other friends even though that is so much harder than it sounds and an entirely different rant. 

5. Have A Good Non-Depressing Time

I am going to have so much free time to go through my room, cut the fat of all the shit that I've been hoarding to make room for all the dresses that I will not just look at, but actually order. Hang out with the people that are still here. Go to the movies from time to time, maybe a carnival or two. Anticipate the new season of the Glee Project. Watch movies. Listen to/buy records. Go to Princeton. Go to New Hope. Go to New York. See a concert. Yadda Yadda Yadda

There's my list. I like to begin each summer or winter break by making goals. Like a New Year's Resolution. Just like New Year's Resolutions, I won't accomplish even two of those on the list. But I do want to keep my chin up and look forward to the summer.

Oh The Wicked Ways of Unemployment

I feel like such poo. I am already in bed. That kind of thing makes me scared that I am actually sick. I cannot get actually sick. I have lots and lots to do tomorrow, but most importantly dazzle some printing place dude and charm him into giving me a job. Job interviews excite me, but this one- I don't know. I like knowing what is expected of me and the job title was extremely vague. I like knowing things I've realized. I hate the discomfort of not knowing. This is why I insist on watching movies I've already seen ten times and listening to the same music I listened to in middle school. I love to know what happens and it brings me joy when everything happens just as I plan on it. Damn I am getting the chills all over the place. I watch movies and television with predictable plots knowing that I will be comforted with the exact storyline of the last eight hundred rom-coms. I know I am the reason why bad movies are made. I also don't give a fuck and I know that I am a scared little girl afraid of the unknown and that's what bothers me. 

So I'm going to this interview with my scared thoughts, but I force myself to do it so I can buy This Dress. The job pays ten dollars an hour which is pretty godly to my eight twenty five. I'm hoping my lack of photoshop/illustrator skills can be made up for with a flash of thigh (as murder was justified by it in Chicago).  Speaking of which to the tutorials i go!

But before I do:

Do I Sparkle?

I am such a slave to beauty products. Feeling beautiful is possibly one of the most wonderful things in my world. My confidence depends on feeling beautiful (most of the time). So I love diving into the makeup section of insert your favourite drug store here. I look at the products and I see my potential beauty: that shade of pink on my lips, that cool color of nail polish on my nails, that sparkly eyeshadow on my eyelids. All these little adjustments add up. They make me think I'm a goddamn movie star, even if it is drugstore makeup. 

I am exactly what the makeup companies want. I am the girl who looks at Jessica Biel wearing JustBitten Lipstain and I want to look like her. I am immediately intrigued by the design and angle of packaging and advertisements. And it's just one of those things that fall under the category of things that are bad that I do that I have apathetic feelings towards. I mean yes, it seems very shallow that my confidence is based on the way I look and not my intelligence or other abilities. And yes, it seems shallow that I am easily persuaded by beautiful things. 

But beauty is fascinating. The idea of beauty is so powerful. That there are people who are so beautiful that you're immediately drawn to without any logical reasons. That there are people you are so inclined to look at for a long period of time just for recreation. I spent some of my day looking at beautiful women on Google images with my pal Luc. We spent maybe fifteen minutes appreciating the way these people merely looked. We actually did that for fun. 

Beauty is fascinating. 

I Touch Myself

I've been finding myself to be narcissistic lately. It's really strange. I used to hate myself a lot. like a lot. and that part is totally still there. But I'm just like talking a lot lately like I like the sound of my voice, and revealing shit that people totally don't care about. Then I reflect back on it like right now and I'm just like who the fuck do I think I am?
I think reconnecting with my art really boosted my confidence and I felt like I was good for something again. My art picked me off the ground and pumped my stomach of the pills I took to kill myself. And now I think I'm the shit? What kind of turn around is that? I'm wondering If I still hate myself a lot. like a lot. and this is my coping. I'm worried it isn't because this shit is even fooling me. I don't want to interrupt people as their talking to say something only relevant to me. I am a great listener- I just don't think I've been as skillful as I can be. Been a little careless. I'm tired of being a bad person.

Anyhow here's some self love

I Got Me Here A Mother Fucker.

I live in a basement. That always sounds worse than it is- my room is located in the basement. Better. However just like any disgusting basement you know it's humid and damp in the summer and the bugs just fuckin' love it here. I mostly deal with the silver fish. Yeah those creepy pieces of shit that couldn't move faster. I'd move that quickly too if I had over fifty legs. Anyhow, those are my roommates and you might be thinking to yourself, "That is horrendous, how do you live like that?" Well the silver fish are absolutely terrifying, but they tend to stay put on my walls. I rarely see them on the floor or on my furniture. Which believe it or not kind of makes that okay. This does not mean me and the silver fish have not had our rendezvous in my bed. And no, I am not okay with it. But there's something about the silver fish that I've made peace with. I don't jump to killing them in fact I hardly jump at all anymore when I see them. Maybe I've made my mind that knowing they eat the other bugs that they're on my side put me at ease. The other side of that is there are so many silver fish in my room that their diet of other bugs must be good and plenty. Remaining at unease. 

This rant of bugs in my room was not at random. Today was 88 degrees or something near that. I imagine like zombies from the grave the bugs arose from the winter and they want to take over my room. There was a bee in this basement and then down to thick of it there was a fly I described as nickel sized complete with hyperbole flying around my room. 

The beginning of the fly was me sitting in bed minding my own business when this fly, this thick, fat, slow moving, buzzing fly flew right in front of my face. I let it go until its incessant buzzing needed punishment. It flew in my closet so I shut the door. I figured it could die in there- I just won't open the door for days. I heard the buzzing again. That snake must have gone underneath the door, what kind of fly is this?! It was indeed a mother fucker. I called up Kevin and he tried to get me to forget about the fly. He said, "Don't let the fly control your life." Which could have been potentially good advice if he understood that I cannot co-exist with this bumbly fucker of a fly. When I told him to support me in killing the mother fucker he told me to use some sort of spray. So with hairspray in one hand and the October issue of SPIN in the other I was at war. I really want to address that this fly was really a mother fucker. I knocked the sucker out with a magazine and I couldn't find the body. I would lose sight of the fly and I have awful directional hearing to follow its buzz. So there was battle time and then the fly retreated hiding somewhere leaving me to wait for its buzz behind my ear. I eventually had to lure this fly with lights and then after at least a half an hour of battle this fly was finally conquered. I sprayed his fucking face with my hair product and he went down. To which I continued to spray. I knew I had him. I finally understood why people are stabbed over ten times. I must have slammed the magazine on the floor with my primitive might around six to seven times while grunting and laughing. 

I killed the mother fucker. I would do it again. 

Dear god take me back to Langhorne.

Leave You, Move On To A Perfect Stranger

It has been a rough past few months (more than normal). When life is rough as my last post illustrated I drown myself in television, but I also tend to turn to pop music. When I have felt dead and lifeless I asked pop music to revive me. To restore my pulse with the quick paced beats and to light up my face with pure electricity. It inspires me completely. It puts me on my feet and I actually use my legs. Movement and dance. I don't dance nearly as much as I should, It's one of my favourite releases.
In fact body movement in general is just absolutely inspiring. I am not an athletic person by any means, but I would do anything to feel physical strength. I've had dreams lately that focus on athletics, jumping, running. Really testing physical strength. It was so empowering to work towards strengthening my body. It's amazing how far away from reality my body was portrayed in this dream that felt so real. But I still am making it a goal for myself. I am tired of putting this body to waste. This is not to say I am going to enjoy walking by any means. Walking is still a terrible activity.

So back to my love letter to pop music.
Who's on my list? No surprise who's on top here:
Number one.



Britney turns sex all the up. Like her sex is blowing out speakers. Which is great. Her sexuality brings out my sexuality-not the sexuality that I would use on a man- but the sexuality that makes me feel sexy. Which is an important difference.

Number two.



Pop's badass Rihanna. Her music videos man. Make my mouth drool.

Number three.




I had a strange fascination with Kylie in 10th grade of high school. I thought she was the perfect woman. I re-connected with that idea. This song kind of says two different things to me though. I feel like this song is being sung to me right now and that's a tad painful, but it's still got a girl-power strength to it that I try to latch onto instead.

Number four.



I underestimated Selena Gomez. She won me over completely with this hit. The video isn't even half bad! It's got a little Only Girl in it with the colors. If she continues in this direction I will be loyal-however I am skeptical.

Number five.



My perfect woman at the moment. This song is crazy old. Mandy Moore's sweet pop makes me feel fuzzy and pure. So after I get all dirty with Britney I wash off with Mandy.