Say it again when you're sober?

My heart and brain feels a lot better today. Yesterday was unbelievably cloudy and confusing. I ended up drinking a whole lot too, but it was fine since I was with Travis and Nijel and damn, it's always a great time with them. But seriously I just kept drinking and drinking. And how to do you say no to a middle-aged cougar buying you Jager shots? I mean, there's just no saying no to that, like...I wouldn't even know how to say it.
There's something about being in downtown Palm Springs that puts my mind at ease and reminds me of a home. It's familiar, happy, and humble. The people are out and about, down to earth, and interesting. I've been neglecting good 'ol Palm Canyon. Not to mention NYPD, the best little dive bar in PS.

At least I have today, one more day off work, to restore some more serotonin. My head really needs to rest, but it's hard when I think about all the shit I think about on a daily basis. Apartments, options for second jobs, financing, multiplying savings, interest rates, traffic laws, patterns, medicine, weather, energy, sex. I think I'm a genius. This is how we think.

peanut butter.

I should probably stay the hell away from the internet today.

Where the fuck are my glasses anyway?

Main lesson learned; forget whatever I am thinking, if I say it out loud, I should listen. So if I say, I'm never going to take this drug again [after this], why did I? hmm?

I'm lucky I threw up, who knows how hard it would of hit me if I didn't.

I need certain things spelled out, in alphabetical order, colored in black and white. It's stupid, but I just don't get stuff sometimes. I need to stay sober for this.

I'm numb and lonely. I want to go to SF and take my bed back, find a place in the Mission, and try to be happy there again. The city deserves a second chance. 

Distance Doesn't Work For Me.

I feel bad because I know how it feels. And it sucks, it really, truly does. But I gotta do what I gotta do; all I have is me.

On a lighter note, I enjoy the feeling of minimizing and improving. I figured out I'm maturing even more when all of sudden, narrowing down was easy. I've always been so oddly indecisive. Also, I've been holding onto all the morals I used to let go of here and there. I mean, I've been such an adult recently. Even looking back at last summer, I was such a dumb kid bitch; lying to Raphael and lying to myself. All I ever wanted was to be the "good guy" but couldn't because I wasn't. Now, I so totally am and it's real!

And I'm not sure what I'm being the "good guy" about and who I'm even comparing myself to. Nobody. I just feel this way. Maybe there's just no one to lie to anymore. Maybe that's a good thing. I am learning the peace in being single.

I'll be 22 one week from today. When I was a child, I thought I'd be married with kids by now. When I was a teen, I thought I'd be almost married with a college degree by now.

My mother died 9 years ago one week from today. Who gives a fuck when my dad died.

There is no yes and there is no no.

"Do you miss San Fran, Nay?"
 That question is always so touchy. It always has so much more to it than I can ever really answer. I miss it in a way that doesn't involve anyone else, in a way has to do with learning, finding, and exploring. I wanted it to last a life time. I wanted my dream city to actually work out. So when I think of the city, it sort of seems like a disappointment in a sense. It was hard and painful. I missed a home that didn't really exist. So I guess I was lost in that small 7x13 mile place. But god damn, I knew it like it raised me. and in a way, it did raise me. I learned how to be an adult there. I got a lot of lying and drama out of my system there, which was needed. I did what I needed to do to get by, which was certainly needed. I did the drugs I wanted, the guys I wanted, drank the drinks I wanted, dressed differently, spoke differently, thought differently. But it was cold and so damn expensive and I wasn't getting much school done.
I mainly realized I'm not much of a city girl. The crowds always made me nervous. I would love to find the perfect place for me. Maybe it's the desert, after all I ended up back here for no particular reason, it was like a calling. It was like I was sleep walking and some how ended up in that drunken downtown Palm Springs condo, which I miss terribly, by the way. That's how shit should of stayed.

I need to get back on my bike. I feel like my body got sick because I've been ignoring my two-wheeled buddy. But of course it's windy as shit and...well...okay, I'm making excuses. Guess I just don't want to ride alone anymore. I don't want to do anything alone anymore.

Despite how depressed I've sounded, I'm actually not. I'm pretty fucking happy and excited because things are unfolding.

Here's a small excerpt from the introduction of my memoir, Fairy With Broken Wings. 

"Leaving the desert taught me a lot of things and I’m happy that I’m going back under these circumstances, with these feelings, and I’m glad I got three eventful, life changing years here in the city. 

So this is to all the weed, all the beer, wine, and vodka. This is to all the cigarettes, lazy days at the park, and the house on Clearfield Drive. This is to the fights at our Daly City apartment, hard, hard work at Luigi’s Pizzeria, and spending too much time on Pier 39. This is to getting good grades, riding thousands of miles on my bike, cold nights at the beach, burritos in the Mission, finding treasure at thrift stores, and catching the all nighter bus. This is to all of my lovers and almost lovers. This is to all the festivals and the freaks downtown. I will miss you. I may be back. "

Sorry Viewers! Ah! I didn't know!

Damn, I'm getting quiet a few views, I better start posting some of my better work. I really didn't think anyone would look at this so I apologize for my, "So my day was..." kind of boring bull shit. And viewers, if any of you have been following my writing for the last three years or so, I am more sober, calm, and just sort of low-key now.

                                                                         ***
I'm beating myself up over nothing. At least that's how I felt all day at work today; defeated, run down, and left out. There's actually nothing wrong with me at all. And besides, I have my meds for when there is. It'll digest and tell my brain who will tell my heart to calm down, to stay still, to only beat enough so that my body can still function. I could have used a magical milligram today, it's still not too late, but something about everything makes me want to get through it all alone. I hate depending on shit, I can't even stand how I need these glasses to see now.

What the hell happened in the last couple days that changed my mood so dramatically?
It could have been Raph's texts. He continued to tell me I should of met him in Chicago. I would of considered it if he didn't tell me that after he was already there. It would of been nice to see him and his family. But I didn't tell him that. Instead I told him our ship has sailed. I am here and he is across the planet from me, where he will stay to build his life, his career and his family. What does he even want out of me now?
We've played this game so many times since we broke up. Shit, it's almost been a year.
I barely skimmed through the texts knowing all he wanted to do was fuck me. Yes, I figured it out and yes, he wanted me to fly all the way to stupid Illinois so he could have me in bed one last time before his life progresses even more.  I'm not that weak and he's not that good.

But honestly, him and those lousy text messages didn't bother me so much.

I wanted to stay at the Dr. Dog show forever. I never wanted it to end. They were so happy and it more than rubbed off on me.
I am being such a god damn walking contradiction right now.

The back pain I woke up to this morning was so fucking...well, painful. It's from ignoring my required stretches and from arching my back as much as I can during sex to intensify pleasure. I certainly know what I have to do to get there.

The amount of liquid emotion that leaves my body when I'm with him in bed is unbelievable.

"My heart; it ain't running right"

I just woke up. I am actually pretty sick now but I am doing all the things I need to do to get better. Luckily I dated a doctor's son for a couple of years and he taught me very many useful things on getting better.

The clouds have been heavy and grey. It feels and smells wet outside but the rain just never came and I don't think it will. But this is the desert and this is what we all get for living here. I have the ability to move away, I can get up and go right now. Yeah I'd loose my job and this spacious spot I have here, but a change of scenery would be nice. But as I'm getting older, I'm realizing the desert isn't so bad. It's calm and i've learned to like calm things. I will go back to school and I'll meet more people and I'll be happier. I can hop on I-10 and go anywhere I want for a weekend. That's what we all do to get by down here. To keep sane and occupied.

I'm sitting here in such a boring and blank way. There's a lot on my mind and I'm trying to figure out what's more important. Dana and Trevor are down sizing to an apartment in April. I am more than welcome to go with them. They can use the extra 150 a month and the small, helpful things I do around the house. Living with them is no issue here. I have a entire side of a house to myself. But i feel like an apartment will be too tight. I will feel like a child, especially since I can afford my own apartment anyway.
So maybe it's time. I just wish I had roommates to move in with to cut the costs. Someone my age, with my interests must be wanting and feeling the same thing right now in this desert. I just need to find her/him.

I'm kinda sick.

Though I am constantly writing about my past and even though i am confident that will be the source of my income someday, I need to vent about present day occurrences, always. It will be beneficial later on.

My life is still crazy as shit. It's not predictable, it's not dull, and it's certainly not normal. My days are colorful. My time here on Earth is a god damn blast, a day to day adventure, a fucking roller coaster.

I don't need to write about the disaster named Paul. It's in my brain to stay, unfortunately. No need for documentation. But luckily I can barry it and not allow it to harm me at all. Just like all the other trama my life has fostered. So the only pain that's left is the dent in the middle of my forehead that his strength and that door caused. That poor door. It didn't want to be his weapon.
He's lucky I choose to go with the law. I could of had him killed.

Anyway, I've been so fucking happy. January turned out to be awesome! I paid off all my debt and bought a car, which put me in debt all over again but it's manageable and besides, I really fucking needed a car.

This entry is boring. I want to write about a boy I met a week or so ago, but I feel like it's too soon and I feel like he'll read it and I'll be embarrassed.

He's awesome and I hope he sticks around, honestly.