Hurt people, hurt people

I don't wear immense amounts of eye makeup - it's trashy.
I don't have sleeves of tattoos - it's trashy when paired with immense amounts of eye makeup.
I don't dress like a skank - modest is hottest.
I love nature - I'll go camping.
I love walks in gardens - wish it would happen more often.

Are all men the same? I haven't come across a happy medium of sane and protective. My past boyfriends or relationships have been filled with over insane moments and incredibly strong protective instincts. I'm not sure why I'm even writing this. I have no need. Other than I'm feeling a bit awful. It's funny how someone isn't who you thought they were, and how dumb one may be to actually believe what they thought was the truth, AS the truth.

Hurt people, hurt people.

It's a sad and ever repeating cycle. When I was younger I told myself to not care. Therefore I didn't. After a 13 month long relationship, filled with bumps and mountains, it changes a person. I found I do have the capability to care. I hate it. I don't want to care. I don't want to know. I don't want anything to do with anyone, yet I'm forced into the societal standards of dating - of getting to know someone - of enevitably getting hurt. Which has now lead to me to hurt others, for I am hurt - dominoing into them becoming hurt. By being a hurt individual, you may be hurting the rest of the world. Maybe not instantaneously, but eventually.
I write this...
Not sure why...
Maybe to
get some
steam off?

...whatever steam that may be?

I shouldn't care, therefore I won't ever get hurt, therefore I won't feed this frenzy of hurt people hurt people anymore. How ignorant and niave do I sound?



get me outta here.

Intriguing conversations are incredible to me. I found myself enjoying a nice tempeh burger with vegan cashew pesto and nice company. Losing track of time and hurrying an already misguided and perplexed young man of a waiter with demanding a check before we were even more late for the flick. After the Swedish film providing sceneS, I reiterate, sceneS of graphic rape and torture, a nice cup of coffee was gladly needed. There I found myself not checking the clock, just simple words rambling and pouring out of my already multiple roaded brain. Articulation somehow skipped my mind and words were flowing from both ends, meaningful and jokingly. I enjoyed the company I was with tonight. Thoughtful, endearing, witty and wordy. Beautiful indirectly, smooth and sly, but well taken.

I need to start writing songs, especially to preserve a nice, calm evening as thus.

Random thoughts

Sketching is great.


He's my best friend.


I enjoyed this day.


I miss Raggedy Ann with my whole heart.

Last Summer road trip to New Jersey. I miss Steven William Patrick. Great times.

Idiot once again

I have too big of a heart. I feel like that's what it boils down to.

I need to move. I've always been obsessed with moving somewhere, but that feeling has surpassed until last night. Why am I still in a place I can't stand? I adore my friends. I love my family. But I'm just not happy here. I don't know if I can wait two years. That's too far away. I need immediate change. I think I need to go on a vacation.

A vacation sounds like it will suffice my need to move for a bit longer.

My father is my inspiration. He always has been. I've always been afraid to let him down, or be someone he doesn't want me to be. I know, I know, he's my father and he'll love me no matter what. Which is interesting in itself. I've tested both of my parents often throughout the years. I've pushed their boundaries mostly when it came to piercings or tattoos. I'm quite impressed with their patience, as well as their incredible amount of understanding. Not every kid enjoys what I do. Not every kid does what I do. I've tested them both to what I felt to the breaking point. They've remained beyond amazing, and still continue to amaze me.

Back to my father, it's interesting how I've taken him for granted so often throughout my life. I get into my moody pants, and end up being the worst daughter, in my opinion, ever. I say awful things and act a certain way that I really would rather not. This weekend has been a rough one, and I'm so thankful to have my father. I love my friends and their advice, and I do hold it close. But, there's something about your own father's advice to his only daughter that changes you.

I've been stressing out over nothing. Truly, nothing. His words opened me to that, and I've realized I've been handling situations poorly. I always assume people will come to me. I barely take any time to reach out to my friends, or more importantly the guy I'm currently involved with. I don't know why, but I've never been this wrapped up in wondering how someone feels. I suppose I shouldn't worry about it. Things will play out. I shouldn't keep my guard up. I have walls, but those walls need to atleast crumble a bit at the top, slowly but surely. I'm nervous and it's killing me. Ah.

Anyway, love the pops.

Gary Forystek

Hey Dad,

Reading my blog again? Caught you.

xoxo
Your Daughter,

Ashley

April 8, 2010 (leading into the AM of April 9, 2010)

I greatly dislike you. I think you may indeed be the scum of the Earth. Sure, I'm bitter. But mostly because you're an idiot of a "friend." Is it impossible for you to strictly give a thanks, instead of complimenting me. I'm not sure why wishing you Happy Birthday was something I considered doing. I'd be happier without ever speaking to you again. I even contemplated deleting your number. I doubt you read this, but I'm practicing a new social trend and personal wave called Radical Honesty. I don't want you in my life. I wish you never were in my life. You taught me who not to be, and how not to act. You taught me what I knew all along, but I was too afraid to admit it to myself. I hate who you've ever so greatly morphed me into. I just hope this new in my life will change that. I hope it goes smoothly. I hope things prosper and grow. I care about him.

Its strange how rapidly my feelings change. Its weird how one night of staying in, forces you to contemplate your whole existence as a person and how you maintain your well-being. I'm not ready to get hurt, or demand to get hurt due to my own actions. When I start to feel something, I immediately freeze up. I back away. I run. No one should ever have to endure my bipolar decisions and answers. I don't know how I decide what I do. It happens. I don't rationalize. I don't think from an outsiders perspective. My mind wonders. I think of all the things I want to accomplish and I'm selfish. I'm a selfish individual who is too self-interested to truely care about another individual. I've cared about looks, body structure, image, societal opinions. I'm not someone anyone should get mixed up with. My feelings are sporadic. I dislike most, if not all, of humanity on any given day. I have skeletons in my closet no one knows about because I keep them locked up and hidden behind this facade I've so carefully constructed over the years. All I ask is that you never like me. Never care about me. Never feel any romantic or kind connection with me. Ill just end up treating you like shit and passing you on to the next lonely girl that stumbles along. I don't need anyone in my life besides me (which I know is completely unrealistic and pathetic, but I figured I don't like people touching me, talking to me, making eye contact, watching me eat, in my room.) So why should I want anyone else in my life? There's no need. Which is my current dilemma. I like being touched by you, I like talking to you, I like making eye contact. I like you watching me eat, and although you've never seen my room, I'd like you to. I want you to be a part of my life, but I won't allow myself to allow you to be. You deserve better. You deserve someone that has her mind made up and won't hurt you. I'm not perfect, no one is, but I'm way far from it. I choose to be raggard, haggard, and cruel.

Don't care about me. Do me and more importantly yourself a favor, stop texting me? God knows I won't be able to stop myself.

I'm alive, but I haven't even starting living. There's so much for me to see, so many things for me to do. So many things for me to fail doing and to succeed doing. This isn't my life; my life hasn't even begun yet.

April 1, 2010

April 1st is the birthday of my late "second" father. Eric Hofner, you'll always be in my heart. I'm sure you're taken care of greatly up there.

It is only 1:30pm, and I have quite possibly had the most fufilling day. Woke up at 7:00am, per usual every Tuesday and Thursday, but today I made myself a nice cup of tea. We discussed the Erie Canal in class, and I felt a breeze of accomplishment when turning in my book review. In between classes, I had the pleasure of sitting in on a lecture of Gary Yourofsky. One of the most influential vegans out there. His rhetoric and honesty was so overwhemling. Tears, smiles, and cheers all within the 60minutes he lectured. I chatted with his girlfriend, a raw foodist from California, afterwards. She had such an words, and awesome recommendations for where to buy clothes, and make-up.
My music class was interesting. I did awful on the last quiz, but the grade didn't affect my attitude. Its a beautiful day outside, and I doubt anything can make me negative today.
Right now there's a trio of twenty-something guys on motorcycles. Now he's doing tricks behind me...on a Harley? Possible? Apparently.
I am currently on my way to John Casablanca's for a meeting. If you know what that is, you'd know why I'd find it absolutely hilarious.
After that I'm running over to Cherokee Creek to get my arm finished up. I'm so stoked to finally have it all said and finished...at least for now.
Rose Dear is coming over for a slumber party, where movies and vegan snacks will be our means of entertainment.

Thank God for such a beautiful and amazing day thus far.