Unread random thoughts...

So, my goal for the end of the summer was to run into a hasty relationship, with some one I didn't know, pretend like I was happy, move out, get a place of my own, realize how unhappy I was, then become single again... all while making it through the holidays.

Mission Accomplished.

Now, I've come back up for air... returned to the real world. I realize that I was following the philosophy, "Fake it until you make it. "

I often think about the past. Two piece of the past particularly haunt me... one during my sleeping life and the other during my waking life. I know now, it wasn't fair to the poor guy that I took out my need for a relationship on. I think about my one big regret... the one I took for granted. Then later, the one pushed away because I couldn't just accept how things were.

I wonder... do either of them spend any time thinking about me? Do they have that reoccurring dream or waking nightmare?

I know I'm being melodramatic and emo. There's plenty of reason for me to be happy... and relatively, I am. It's at night... when I'm alone... when I'm... without. That's when it hits me the worse. I can take a shower, or take a pill and grant myself some serenity.

I used to fill up my cup when I worked in theatre/ lived theatre. Like... that cup of happy? I would do what I love and survive. When that wasn't enough, I had Yoga on Mondays and church on Sunday's. When I couldn't make it until one of those hit... then I would turn to other things. It worked out well enough. I got what I needed when I needed.

I guess at that time, I wasn't being a real adult.

Now I am a real adult. I make real money, pay real bills. There never seems to be enough money. There will never be enough real money... that's a fact I've grown to accept.

At least then when I was so destitute, I could only afford food... I was more happy?

Maybe it's this city? Don't get me wrong, I love my home town. When I'm far away for too long, it draws me back.... gives me strength. I find my base and my roots and grow. Then, like a tumble weed... I go... fly. The need to fly strikes me almost as much as my need to settle down. Being without an artistic outlet... being without an outlet for passion... it's like I'm drowning.

I'm not sure if any of this makes sense. Maybe I just want to move back to a cool city. Even living in Peoria, I almost never see my parents. It's almost as if, I make the effort, or there's no effort to be made. I work all the time but just seem to be bailing out water in a sinking ship?

I miss art... I miss love. Both of which are so far from me. Trying to fill the void, maybe that's why I look back. Maybe that's why my memories haunt me day in and day out.

The one that I destroyed... and the one I pushed away. I wonder if they ever think about me the way I think about them. I wonder if I'm even a faint memory or just something to be locked away in a dark corner. I wonder if by looking back and pulling from the past, I'm keeping myself form moving on. Was there a lesson to be had from all of this? Where does it go from here?

I teach in class how to be confident.

Here are some truths that I find to be self evident and in fact, in their truth I find strength.

1) I don't need a guy to survive... it just makes the nights more fun.

2) I'm beautiful no matter what I do because of who I am, not how I look.

3) Peanut butter isn't only good with Jelly.

4) From my art, others find beauty.

Maybe in that... maybe in my work, that is where I need to find my new art. I miss the theatre so, but currently, I can't devote my life to it.

Maybe grad school isn't for me.

Or... maybe... just maybe... I'm just up at 2am spouting nonsense into a blog that no one reads.