Cleaning House

I had a “best friend” a few years ago (by the use of quotes, you should already know where this is going! ). I met her through a friend…well, kind of. She was the ex of some guy I used to really like, but are no longer on speaking terms.
We had a lot in common and would spend hours on the phone with each other. We shared some of the same traumatic experiences and in some weird way bonded over that.  She was a certified weirdo, and I liked that.
Issues started to arise, though.  Three of her male friends hurt me. Really hurt me. And yet,  she’s still friends with them. I don’t particularly care that they are her friends,  but I’m no longer her friend.  It says a lot to me about a person when they never seem to have time for you,  your actual female friend who isn’t balls deep in the latest gossip, yet seem to have time for those who have hurt your friend. It really says something.  And mental illnesses and depression aside, that’s not fair. I understand going months without interaction with people. I totally get that. But that’s not an excuse to just run me over. 

I am not going to spend more time emotionally investing in someone when I’m not getting anything in return.

There’s a long list of people that have done that to me. Most notably my “ex fiancé.” I feel like I have to say that because it’ll serve as a reminder that an “x is an x for a reason!”.
Despite his proposing to me, I was the one putting more into this “relationship” than him. And in many ways I had to. He was living on the other side of the world and wanted me to move there. Which I would have done. In a heartbeat. But my rational side often quarrelled with my idealistic, more romantic side, and kept saying, “Yeah, but do you really know this guy? (Answer:NO)” or “How do you plan on doing anything?” My Piscean delusions just melded into the thought of him and we were going to do everything as one. The fairytale come true…
…except it didn’t. Red fucking flags galore. And I should have caught them in after four months. Excuses piling up. No contact for long stretches at a time. His getting mad at me for contacting his parents. If I hadn’t known him prior, I would have thought he was catfishing me.
Long story short, I ended it. Well technically he did, but didn’t really say it. I made it clear that I never wanted to speak with him again. I blocked him from everything. Incidentally, if he really wanted to contact me, he could, since we have a few friends in common. But nothing. He didn’t even tell his best friend about it. The low life!

Yes yes. My fault. But again I learned something. Never treat someone as a priority when they clearly only see you as an option. And I’m slowly getting rid of people who see me that way.

And I’m slowly not thinking about punching him in the face.


Darn (I could have used more descriptive language, but let’s keep it PG. Maybe even G.) My baby is out now. I’ve stripped off yet another layer of myself. More vulnerable. More exposed. I’m telling the world, “Hey,” this is my child. Give me money to watch it grow. We can do this!”


I had a very interesting dream this morning. I was Rihanna, with full red hair regalia! I was being interviewed in my house. But my “house” looked more like that hotel in Drive. I was being called out on lying about the name of my hair color. I called it “Fire Ice,” but it’s actually called “Fire Compassion.” And then I danced to Madonna’s “Ray of Light.” I remember this song from a commercial back when I was barely a teenager. And I’m listening to the song right now, and I’m really resonating with it.


I’ve been interested in keeping a dream journal and interpretation for the past eleven years. It’s really interesting how dream recall becomes more cemented after writing your dreams down. There have been way too many times where I’ve gotten u and done other things, thinking, “Oh, I’ll just write it down when I have time,” only to realize it escaped me immediately after waking up.

I’ve had dreams about celebrities before, but I’ve never actually been one before. So this morning, after I had this dream, I researched a little bit about what being a celebrity could mean. I came across a number of interpretations, but the ones that stood out the most to me were a) you have high aspirations that may be far beyond your reach, and b) there are some characteristics of said celebrity that you either admire or dislike.


And I think both of these apply to me. But I want to focus on the latter. I actually did a paper on her in one of my classes before graduating – how she is constructed using the media. My opinion of her changes from time to time, but I see her as human. I obviously don’t know the whole story, but people seem to think that getting away from an abusive situation is easy. It doesn’t matter how much money or resources she has – victimization runs deep. And it can take a long time for it to get out. I don’t know if Chris Brown has changed his ways or anything. But whatever. I do admire her for consistently putting out an album every year, though. That has to be a lot of work, and then to go on tour. I totally admire her for that. I should have better work ethic.


And as for the song: I listened to it. Lots of space references. I often feel like I don’t belong on this earth. I’ve often said that I’m from Neptune, and a certain portion of me believes that. I don’t know if that’s true, or if I need some serious grounding…more on this later.