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Bring me to life

I used to be angry at the world. Music dictated my mood and apathy consumed me. You never saw a smile on my face. If you did, I’ll bet you a 100 quid it was fake. I was a master of disguise. I hid behind masks. I consumed my weight in food and ate the pain away. I died a slow and painful death. Every day a little piece of me died. Because I wasn’t happy. Because I wasn’t alive. I didn’t live my life. I let the past define me and words haunt me. I cried. I screamed. But no one listened. There was no sound. No words. Only silence. Silent screams. 

I wasn’t like the others. Didn’t look like the others. Had different clothes. I used to be fat and insecure. I cried myself to sleep. I was excluded. Wasn’t pretty enough. Wasn’t skinny enough. I stopped trusting. Music and books became my friends. My escape. I consumed the words. Listened till my ears bled. Everywhere I went books and music came with me. Always. Never alone. 

It wasn’t until I moved away from home and started university I felt free. Free from the past. Like the Phoenix I rose from the ashes. I started running. Faster and faster. I tried running from my demons. I tried running away from the storm. Instead, I hit a wall and I fell hard. Down into the dark abyss. Surrounded by darkness I was lost. I was blind and couldn’t see. I pushed too hard. I ran too fast. I lost myself searching for someone else. Something else. I tried to be someone else. But I could only be me. 

I used to be angry at the world. Then I found myself [cliché, I know]. I found a better version of me. I found the golden mean. The desirable middle between two extremes. I continued to run. But stopped running away from the storm and stopped waiting for the storm to pass. Instead, I learned to dance in the rain. I found my place. Started to dream. Worked hard. Lived life. I found my way out. Out of the abyss. Out of darkness. Like the Phoenix I rose from the ashes. 

The past is the past. Life starts now; life is now. If you want to be happy, be… 

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I have a dream

The past is a ghost, the future a dream, and all we ever have is now (Bill Cosby). Life waits for no one. Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans (John Lennon). Hard work pays off. In the end it will be worth it. Everything I did, I did to make my dream come true. Countless hours spent at the library and countless cups of coffee. . Just hope it has been enough. All the roads I’ve taken has finally led me to this. Once again I find myself at a crossroad – this time I now which road I want to take. I just hope my efforts haven’t been in vain. I just hope my efforts have’t been for nothing. One week from now I’ll have my answer. The answer to my question. Will my dream come true?

Maybe I have hopes too high for life?
Maybe I expect too much?
Thinking, hoping and wishing
Dreams that will never come true.
I am a victim of my own mind
I am my worst critic.
I dream big and have high hopes
What if nothing works out?
Then again what if it does?
(2013)

It has always been the same dream…
I walk the streets with a book bag on my shoulder; music blasting in my ears. I’m on my way to the library; THE library.  Surrounded by books; old and new, the library has an atmosphere making you want to study – it’s motivating you. It’s where I belong. Finally, I’m home. After studying I’m once again walking the streets. I’m on my way to my favorite coffee shop in this town. It’s neither too big nor too small; just the right size. The waitress/waiter recognizes me and tells me my regular will be right up. I find a vacant seat by the window, find my book and disappear into a different world. Sometimes I would also write as I take in the world just outside the window. People hurrying by; some off to meetings, others talking on their phone. All of them drink their coffee on the go. Everyone is in a hurry. Not taking breaks. Not stopping for anything. They’re always on their way from something, to something else. They don’t stop for a second and just enjoy life. Listen to the silence.  My coffee arrives and I’m brought back to reality. I still can’t believe this is my life; how far I’ve come. I worked hard to get here, spent countless hours studying but for this it was all worth it. Trust me. It was worth because I get to live my dream. 

This isn’t my life, yet. It’s just a dream. It’s always just a dream. Always the same dream. Every time I wake up I’, back in my cold [messy] room. But I will live my dream. Someday I will wake up and my room will be in that town. I will walk those streets, drink that coffee and study at that library. Someday it won’t just be a dream. Someday it will be my life!

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Is it weird that walking in rain makes her happy?

The day got off on the wrong foot but ended up being a good day.

Is being seen, the same as being understood? Can the words a person writes tell you something about who she is – has been? Do you judge her by the words she writes even though they describe something happening a long time ago? Maybe it’s only now, when it’s in the distant past, she’s able to write it down; ready to tell the world. 

She doesn’t write for empathy. She writes so other people can understand where she comes from; why she is the girl she is today. Let people know where her insecurities come from. That no matter how much weight she has lost she still see her old self staring back in the mirror. 

They told her it would get better when she got older. That as soon as people got over the teenage years they would stop. Did they? The words might have stopped coming, but what they had said in the past still stuck with her. Being grown up didn’t erase that. As she got older and the past more distant she has been able to leave it all behind. She’s able to let it all go. But it takes time. And time goes fast; too fast sometimes.

She doesn’t know how much weight she has lost in kilos or pound. The number on the scale isn’t everything. But she can see she’s different and she feels different. It’s easier to run; easier to lift weights. Just hurrying home in the rain is easier. She isn’t out of breath after walking three flights of stairs – she used to – but not anymore. She does CrossFit once a week, who would have thought? 

Clothes fit her better. Some she has thrown away because they were just too big. Life isn’t a dark hole anymore. She has escaped. And instead of existing day by day; she’s living and making plans for the future. The pessimist is slowly becoming an optimist. It isn’t done overnight. It takes time. But time is moving forward; not backwards. She doesn’t live in the past anymore; she lives for the future. 

She is me.  I used to be broken. I used to be hurt. Now, I’m happy. Happy with who I’ve become and who I’m becoming. I’m not perfect but have realized that I never will be. I used to be a troubled soul; not anymore. I’ve realized that life is what you make of it. Happiness comes from within. I’m the maker of my own happiness. All I can do is aspire to become the best version of myself!

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What a wonderful day! I haven’t seen a single soul except for the people on my TV. I haven’t talked to single person except for myself. Don’t judge me. Just because I talk to myself sometimes doesn’t make me crazy. I needed this day to disconnect from the world; a day where I didn’t have to cover my face in make-up or care that my hair is a mess. So what if I didn’t get that much schoolwork done, I did at least some. And besides, I have plenty of days left to spend reading at the library. One day at home, away from reading won’t hurt. I’m going back to the library tomorrow if the cold I’m coming down with allows me.

It’s the change in weather; the sudden drop in temperature happening this week which gave me this cold. It’s the same every year. No matter if I start wearing warm sweaters and socks in October, I still get a cold.

So I spent this cold November day at home. Drinking coffee, watching some TV, doing some writing, a little reading – basically doing things at my own pace. I spent the day under a blanket on the couch and forgot the world outside my apartment. On days like this I always become a little nostalgic. I travel back to the past and compare it with the present. Somehow everything seemed to have changed. Then if I compare today with, say, last Thursday, nothing seem to have changed at all.

“Isn’t it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back, everything is different…”

Almost bedtime. I was supposed to be in bed an hour ago. But isn’t it funny how those nights you plan going to bed early are the nights you end up staying up late? But first I have to take a spoonful of cough syrup. I don’t like it but it helps. Makes my throat better. No point in putting it off any longer. It must be done.

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I feel so inspired these days. I can write for hours. I guess it’s been some time. Maybe it’s the change of location; maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have any finals to study for. I’m not complaining. It’s just a little weird, this sudden feeling of inspiration that seems to have hit me. There’s a story unfolding in my head. Don’t know if I’ll ever publish any of it here. But it’s a story of romance and finding yourself. Going from living life as a wallflower to living a life where people see you – a life where you hide away in the background but instead are visible. Making yourself heard above the noise of everyone else.

With coffee and dark chocolate today is a day best spent inside. Outside the weather reminds more of fall than summer. The wind is blowing in the trees; rain is falling from the sky. I finished my last final of the year only a week ago but it feels so much longer. I have done so much. Enjoyed good food, served at a wedding (for 10 hours), got a little tanned, bought new clothes – summer clothes, I’ve spent time relaxing – sleeping, reading novels, and I’ve polished plates, glasses and silverware.

It feels as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. There are no dark clouds hanging over me. Nothing I have to do; nothing I must do. Tuesday I felt I was in Downton Abbey polishing silverware, plates and glasses, all that was missing was the right fashion. The beautiful post-world war one fashion.

I guess things haven’t really changed. I still drink the same amount of coffee I did while studying for finals. I still read, only now I finally get to enjoy all the novels I’ve saved this semester. I got to read The Perks of being a Wallflower one more time (I’ve lost count how many times I’ve read it). But the story never seize to amaze me. It gets me every time. Charlie is such a magnificent character – a wallflower.

There’s a light drizzle in the air. Can’t the weather make up its mind? Either rain or let the sun shine.

I haven’t worked out in over a week and I don’t care. I haven’t had the time, it hasn’t been a priority of mine. I listened to my body and it needed relaxing. My knees needed to heal. Today I finally went for that run. I beat my time from last year. There has been progress since the beginning of last august.

Life is great.

I think this will be a great summer.

[written on Thursday, June 13th 2013]
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Sometimes you need to be alone, in order to find out who you really are and what you really want.

It felt like I had gotten lost but along the way I found myself. I found the courage to be myself. I discovered the way to happiness. I searched for so long and never realized that the answer was simple. I have to let go of the past; what people thought of me doesn’t matter. What people think of me doesn’t matter. Who are they to judge me? What gives them the right to judge me? They don’t know me; they don’t know who I am – who I was. Why should I let people label me when they don’t know me?

I have survived my entire life up until this point. I survived the pain, the heartbreaks, the devastation, and the bullying. I survived all the different phases in my life up until this point and here I am; stronger than I ever have been. Why should I let the past define who I am today; how I act today? I survived the past and now it’s time to let go, and move on. Create memories to replace the nightmares.

Look at me, there has to be something more than what they see; wholesome and pure, also scared and unsure. A poor man’s Sandra Dee. Sandy, you must start anew. Don’t you know what you must do? Hold your head high, take a deep breath and sigh “Goodbye to Sandra Dee”. 

So fuck them. Fuck them all. I’m going to walk with my head held high and show them all. I’m going to show them that the shy and quiet girl is gone. She doesn’t exist anymore. I want so much in this world but I won’t get it by being shy and quiet. Not sit idle by and wait for love or other great things to happen. If I don’t go after what I want, I’ll never have it.

Beauty isn’t just looks. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Beauty is your personality. Beauty is your heart. Beauty is you. There isn’t just one definition of beauty same as there isn’t only one model of what’s beautiful.

It’s not just about the dream. Anyone can dream a dream. But a dream is only a dream. If you want it to happen, make it happen. Don’t just dream it, night after night. Do something about that dream. Make your dreams real. I believe in you. You can do it; time to be brave; time to be courageous. This is your life; live it!

I’m not perfect. I never will be. I am me and it’s exactly who I want to be.

They might try to tell you how you can live your life. But don’t, don’t forget it’s your right to do whatever you like. ‘Cause you could be your own spotlight. You could be the star, you could shine so bright. You could be your own spotlight. 

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It had to come. The way I’ve been pushing myself lately I had to hit the wall, eventually. It would be a miracle if it was possible to keep going on the way I have.

Up at 6.30; coffee, breakfast and shower; be at the library by eight, preferably a few minutes before eight; study at the library until 5-6 o’clock; go home, change, eat a banana and then hit the gym; be at the gym for a few hours and have a kickass workout; go home, shower and eat dinner; then spend a few hours on the couch before bedtime.

Then you do it all over again the next day and the next until you reach the wall; until the day you hit the wall. The wall isn’t something you reach, it something hitting you in the face when you least expect it. It hits you at a time when you feel great but deep down you’re not. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard, have ignored the signs and just kept going. On Friday I hit that wall. After nearly 10 hours in the library I broke down when I came home.

Luckily, there was music and there was rain. So I went for a walk. I think I cried a bit too but who saw? It might as well have been rain.

I love the rain. I love when the ground gets wet. I love that after a little rain you might get lucky and see a rainbow glisten. I love the little puddles; and the big puddles. I become a child again. I jump in them. I don’t care who sees me. I live in my own world which is a little bit crazy; a little bit weird; and a little bit normal. My world is awesome, sometimes. Other times I wish it wasn’t my world. Times when everything seems to go wrong; when the world seems to be against me. But it doesn’t happen that often anymore, that the world is against me and it doesn’t last for days like it used to. I like to think it has something to do with me finally being able to change my life for the better.

I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. Still, when the clock struck twelve on New Year’s Eve I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed my life; fixed my world. I promised myself that 2013 would be the year I finally fixed what was broken years ago; I decided that I wasn’t going to let it define me anymore. Because why let my past define who I am, when I’m clearly not that girl anymore? When it’s evident I’ve actually changed? And I’ve changed a lot; not just the four-five months since 2013 started but since I moved away from home four-five years ago. That’s when I started changing. It’s taken me awhile but I finally feel it. I finally feel the change.

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There are two tragedies in life. One is to lose your heart’s desire; the other is to gain it.

Once again you’ve managed to get trapped and be fooled by love. You don’t understand why you never learn. All love has ever given you is heartache and tears; and plenty of walks in the rain – because then no one can see you’re crying. You ask yourself why you haven’t experienced the greatness of love yet; the excitement of being in love with someone who’s in love with you. Time after time you’ve given up on love but then as time goes by you find yourself back at the starting point. You think maybe it’s time you got out of the circle you find yourself in and find new ways to go.

Love has never been easy; not for anyone. It certainly has broken your heart a numerous times. So why do you always let love trap you? One reason is probably the feeling that comes with it; the feeling that you’re high on life. You smile all the time. You don’t eat because of the butterflies flying around in your stomach. You drag yourself to school because you might see him because seeing him makes your day. But it’s just a crush; nothing more and out of fear you won’t do anything about it. With your past in the back of your mind you don’t do anything about it. But one day might have changed it all. You find yourself in a situation. Studying in the library and suddenly he sits down above you. You look at him in secret when you know he’s not looking; you steal glances at him when he’s busy reading. The moment he looks up; you look away pretending you’re reading something important – something interesting.

He’s the one you told your friend looked too young. But as the day goes by his looks grows on you; he’s cute; seems like a nice person; doesn’t really look that young or maybe you’re blinded. He’s strong; tall. During the day you drink coffee; lots of coffee; strong coffee. It makes you feel drunk and apparently has the same effect on you as alcohol. You become brave. Your stares become longer. I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. Then suddenly you stare a moment to long and your eyes meet. You quickly look down. But you’re not defeated. It happens again. But you forget to smile. It haunts your mind; your weird behavior.

Then Friday comes; you’re back at school. Coming back from lunch he walks by, turn his head and smile. You wish you had the power to rewind. Rewind and play it again; and again; and again. Maybe in slow motion; analyze where he was looking. Was he looking at you? Was his smile meant for you? Did you meet his eyes and smile back? Stop this. Just stop this. Stop this overanalyzing shit. Go back to studying. Get your mind over on something else. It was probably just a fraction of your imagination. You probably just saw what you wanted to see.

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I’ve lost faith in love. I’m not writing it off. I’ve just lost faith. I see people in love but I don’t believe it’s true. Not for me. It’s not in my cards. At least that’s what I’ve been told. I’m not lovable. I’m too fat – was too fat – to be loved. I’m too ugly – was too ugly – to be loved. All through my childhood, every day, I was told that I was ugly and fat. Not cool. My clothes weren’t cool. I wasn’t cool enough. I was a nerd. I liked to read books – study. That wasn’t what the cool kids did. The cool kids couldn’t care less about school. But where are they today? What happened to the cool kids who told me I was fat, ugly and not cool?

I have a bachelor’s degree in English, and in a year I might have a bachelor’s degree in political science. Look at what happened to the fat, ugly and not cool girl. She has good friends – and I would say a perfect life. She lifts weights. She runs. She’s strong. This – the person I’ve become is my revenge. Still, there’s one thing missing. That person. That special person who does everything in his power to make you believe that no matter what, he will always think you’re beautiful – I haven’t found him yet. But I haven’t given up hope. Just lost a little faith in love. For now I doubt that love exists. But what’s all the fuzz about if it didn’t? Why do they make romantic comedies? Where would Pride and Prejudice have been if it wasn’t for the love between Elizabeth Bennett and her Mr. Darcy? Instead I’ve decided – I’ve been doing it for the past weeks – to live every day as if it was my last. I’ll have fun. And in the end everything eventually works out. It does. It always does. It has to work out, even for me, it has to work out.

Every new beginning is just a prequel to the life you have already lived.

I have nothing to lose. Instead I have everything to win. I can’t lose someone who wasn’t mine in the first place. Therefore, it’s time to take risks by meeting his eyes and put on that smile. I can do this. I have nothing to lose and everything to win.

I almost did today. Almost. For a brief moment I tell myself I looked him in the eyes. But that’s what I tell myself. Doesn’t mean that’s what happened. I’m known to twist things – make the story appear greater than it is. But this time I don’t know. Well, tomorrow is a new day. And maybe that’s the day when I’ll stop writing about this kind of thing and instead take a risk – and do it? What harm can it possibly do? I have nothing – absolutely nothing – to lose. I have everything to win. I can’t lose him because he was never mine. And he never will be if I don’t take a chance. Take it a step further. I dare myself. See what happens.

I believe I have come a long way. I’m not that girl anymore. The one who believes she has no friends and a boring life. Who spent too much time wondering what others thought or said about her behind her back; the girl who thinks a boy will never love her. Who thinks she’ll be forever alone. I have grown – become independent. I believe in myself. And every passing day my confidence grows. I smile much more that I imagine I’ve got dimples. I walk with my head held high but I still look away. I’ve stopped looking down at the ground. Instead I look away. I keep my head held high and my eyes firmly set at the horizon. At least I don’t look down. I have come a long way, haven’t I?

I’m not the girl who used food to ease the pain. Who sometimes found something sharp and dragged it over the skin on my arm. Never deep enough, afraid it would leave a permanent mark. I have one and that’s enough. It’s a constant reminder. Easily visible to me because I know it’s there. I’m not proud. It’s was a way – a way to deal with the pain when tears wasn’t enough. Tears eventually became obsolete. They were always there but wasn’t enough to numb the pain. Food did. So I gained weight. I started to hate my reflection. Didn’t look at myself in the mirror – I became ashamed of who I was. Now, I look back and realize I wouldn’t want to be anyone else. Sure, my past has made me create a wall around myself but as time goes by it becomes easier for people to push through. Brick by brick I’m removing it and I’m starting to believe it won’t be long till it’s all gone. It has taken a lot of time – several years – and hard work. But gradually I’m getting there, to the place where I want to be. I’m becoming me. Life used to scare me. Not anymore. I go to bed at night, eager to great a new day. Still, I don’t exactly jump out of bed when the alarm goes off at 6:45 a.m. but I don’t fear the day anymore. I greet it; after I’ve had my coffee.