Dreams of Mars

I’m not sure where to run with my life.
There’s so many things I want to do with it.
Fame, makeup artist, writer, FBI agent, cryptozoologist, ufologist.
For the most part I have it all figured out, I just need the motivation to get there.

I believe in reincarnation, but I do not believe in a second human life.
I think that’s been my problem for a long time.
“If I screw up in this life, I get a second chance.”
And I might, but I’m not taking any chances.

I want to take control of my life, because I feel it spiraling away from me so quickly.
And I feel like I shouldn’t worry about this when I’m eighteen, but perhaps that’s part of my problem.
I aspire highly, and I always have. I always have had very grand ideas for myself.
(Aside from my housewife fantasies, but I digress. Perhaps that was my subconscious being lazy.)

Forgive my romanticism, but I just want to be in her arms. I feel like everything will be okay, then.
I wish she’d see how much I love her… How much it pains me to see her with guys, with anyone but me. And I know its hypocritical of me, but I feel little for mine. Concern, but not even infatuation. To hear her still talk about him, and I understand why she does, I do completely. I just wish I could heal her pain, and complete her in the ways the men seem to. And she reassures me, all the time, but there are these words glaring back at me like angry eyes… I just want this to be pure, just us… Forgive me for being jealous, controlling even… I know she wouldn’t appreciate it, because I don’t think I would from her. I’m not sure.
Men are just so unattractive half the time, and I’m tired of this.

Yet, he seems to have every key to my heart. He keeps me from ‘slipping too far’. And God, how I adore him, want to make him happy.. and still, I don’t think I could do it.. with his desire for a strong woman, a woman that doesn’t hurt like I do, love like I do, especially. For my love is so intense at times, but he makes me feel so beautiful, so unreal. And I know it would never last, because we’re two different people.. who seem made for each other in my eyes… and that’s what it is… he is my ideal.. but an exaggeration, a lie… one that I can’t reveal until I can touch him.

And this other male… The one who haunts my dreams almost every night… who makes my heart ache with every word.. whom I can never hold, never have.. and I’m coming to terms with it, very slowly, very painfully. Its taken me four years to get this far.. and when I see him, my stomach turns and my heart flutters.. and I want so badly to forget his name, face, his laugh, his hugs.. the comfort… I won’t ask myself why he doesn’t want me, because it isn’t worth it. It is honestly his loss, if he wants to end up with the girls he does, then so be it.. I need to move on, and still it will take time, but maybe this void in my heart can be filled.

Maybe.

I have hope.

Listening to Blue October will probably always remind me partially of Ryan, and that’s alright with me, not exactly who I want to think of, but he’s the one that introduced me to them about four years ago.

Its weird how I measure my life through my online friends. For example:
Ages 12-15 are mostly Luca. They’re obsessive, painful, full of shock value and angst ridden poetry. They’re sprinkled with elated feelings and floating on clouds, and much tears and some blood. Various therapy appointments, and even a trip to a mental hospital.

Although 13-14 is also full of Laura, Crystal (my first gay relationship, albeit online) and Melanie. Thinking of them almost always makes me reminiscence. Its also around this time I came out of the closet, and my mind was almost exclusively focused on females.

15-17 is also mostly Sean. They’re when I started to realize that I didn’t need Luca, and that he wasn’t my entire world, and yes, I was capable of loving another male, if only platonically. Its about this time I started realizing how fucking awesome I really am, and how Luca had been dragging me down.
Sean also helped me with various flaws, and brought me back to earth.

Its funny because since then, I only really talk to Sean and Melanie, when I can. Both lead very busy lives. Luca I still talk to from time to time (read: once a week), but he’s certainly not the man I fell for. Its highly upsetting, in a way. I never expect people to change.

Which brings me to another point: That is why it was so fucking hard and excruciating to give up Rachel, and deal with our friendship falling apart. I did not accept or acknowledge the fact that people change drastically in a very short time. It was something that never crossed my mind.

Back to Blue October! “Hate Me” will probably always make me think of my mother. It was probably always be dedicated to her. I treated her very terribly, I know, and I can never make up for it. I will live with this guilt forever, and that’s fine, because I deserve nothing but.

I will always be full of regret on that hand, despite my insistence that “I can never regret, I can feel sorrow, but its not the same thing.” Which is actually a quote from The Last Unicorn. I cannot deceive myself often, however I doubt I will ever stop saying that when asked if I have regrets. I have many more than anyone should ever have to deal with. (At least for my age.)

Today I thought about him. And I realized I could never be happy with him. And I say I’m over him, and I don’t want him, and I don’t. I just don’t know why its so hard for me to forget about him completely. Just push him out of my mind. Stop worrying about how well he doing, if he’s happy, if he’s happy with someone. Its very frustrating.

If I could, I would forget so many things. But then, I worry about who I’d be without some of those people in my life.
I mean, without Luca – shit, there’d be no Poison Ivy in my life, no Cradle of Filth (well, later on, I’m sure.) Some other important, very Jen stuff. I think that’s why I love Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind so much.

Today I came up with my theory of how Marilyn Monroe died:
-When doing the autopsy, it was revealed that there was no way Marilyn ingested the pills. They were done through rectal means.
-She loved getting enemas. No, I’m serious. Her housekeeper administered them.
-The housekeeper and Monroe did not like each other.
-Therefore, the housekeeper totally did it.
Although, this doesn’t explain anything to do with the JFK conspiracies – But, I don’t think they’d gotten around to it yet. Ha.
( Read this: http://www.everlasting-star.net/miner.php )

Hold me now, I need to feel complete. Like I matter to the one I need.
I’m so afraid of the gift you give me.
I don’t belong here, and I’m not well.
-Seether, The Gift.

I miss dream journaling. I miss it a whole fucking lot.
I can never remember my dreams anymore.

I think I’ll have a South Park marathon tonight.
That sounds nice.
If I don’t pass the fuck out first.

Tonight, I watched the third Nightmare on Elm Street film.
Its the first Freddy film I ever saw, actually. It reminds me of my mommy and stepdaddy, because they were both like, “Freddy is awesome! You must watch this.” at the the tender age of nine. Little did my mother know what she was getting me into …
(That chick with the mohawk is sexy – I wish her and Freddy would make out. But I guess needles in your arms is just as hot.)

I hallucinate bugs all the time now. Its a little ridiculous. Thankfully I don’t see them in my food, but I see butterflies on my shower curtain a lot. (I think Anthony Hopkins is trying to tell me something.)

I’m exhausted.