Throwing in the Love Towel.

10 08 2012

Yesterday I had what I’d like to call a “Rage Against the Machine Day” because I literally wanted to rage against the jackhammer that started chopping up asphalt at 8 in the morning and didn’t stop until 4. . . when I had to go to work. Not everyone has an 8 to 5 schedule. There are some of us who actually work the opposite of that. And this world is obviously not designed for our convenience, which is probably while most of us drink excessively and hate everything.

Speaking of hating everything–that happened again too.

It wasn’t a feeling of being tired, being tired I could handle (and do on a regular basis). It was a feeling of being fucked. No, not fucking, or fucked over or fucked up. Fucked. I thought maybe I had done something really shitty and the world was trying to balance it out, yet I have no idea what that would have been, so the whole karma belief dissipated and I realized that sometimes existing is just rough.

It was a day in which I questioned everything I believe in and started to believe in nothing. . . no, I didn’t even believe in nothing. I had no beliefs. I gave up on all the abstracts we cling to, love, loyalty, honesty, happiness. And instead I just glared at people. Wondering how they continued to move through the world every day in a seemingly content sort of way; wondering how I move through the world every day without completely destructing.

And it hasn’t gone way entirely yet either. I’m still in that thought-mode.

Even concepts that I’ve believed in for so long I’ve given up on, veganism, feminism, etc. It’s not like I’m going to go out and kill a cow or try to outlaw abortion–I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care enough to stop being vegan or to stop being a feminist, but I’m not going to put any effort into them, whatever that means.

It comes down to my whole issue with giving up on love. The big one. The abstractest abstract concept of them all. I think I’m mourning over the loss.

Okay, giving up on love is pretty vague. Here’s more of what I mean. When I think about what I need from people and what I can give, it doesn’t match up. It’s not fair to get involved with people when I’m such a mess. It’s not healthy for them or for me. When I sit here and imagine my future, there is no one I can vision getting me or even wanting to.

Maybe that’s the even bigger issue, I can’t see anyone wanting to, and that’s okay. Yeah, I’m a little sad about it, but I also want to be realistic about my existence. Why chase something that will never be?

I need accept it.

Just like my schedule doesn’t align well with jackhammers neither does my love align well with, well, anything.

Advertisements




I’m Running Away. For Two Days.

9 06 2012

Or, going on a holiday, as the English say.

So. Most of you don’t know, due to the fact that I don’t like to talk about it–because as a “player” this is not something you’re supposed to blog about–if you want to keep playing.

But.

Maybe I don’t wanna be a playa’ any more?

(I’m not a playa I just crush alot.)

Here’s the deal.

I have a mega thang for someone who lives really far away.

And many of you are probably thinking… “that’s okay Krystal, you can move any where, you can do anything, because currently you aren’t doing shit with your life.”

Okay, so that is technically true. But the major issue is that the guy I’m mega-crushing out on is stuck in this certain small-scale city in the middle of nowhere for the next four years. No matter how pretty a guy is (Don Draper jaw-line), no matter how smart a guy is (AirForce Secret Stuff), no matter how funny/clever/witty a guy is (the next Michael Bluth) I refuse to make major life decisions revolving around men, a man, ever again. Because this is MY life and it shouldn’t, and it won’t be, dictated by a dick (no matter how. . . dick-y it is? hahaha).

So. Yeah. I really. REALLY like this guy… but it is not a logical or feasible relationship. It’s just going to lead to too much emotional and financial strain.

I’ve had my romantic friends (and family members) tell me to just go for, while my logical friends tell me to run the opposite direction. And for once in my life–I’m choosing non-logical romance! I’m forgetting the expense, forgetting the future inevitable depressing heartbreak, and just going to have a great time. It’s a little crazy, but we all need these kinds of experiences don’t we?

I mean, I don’t want to look back ten years from now and kick myself for not going while I had the chance. So tomorrow, bright and early, I am road tripping down to New Mexico where this beautiful bloke and I will spend roughly 24 hours together.

Then we will part.

Again.

And then I will go to Taos, explore for a day and perhaps have a magical spiritual experience.

We shall see. Either way, it is bound to be a good time.

Wish me love-luck!

See you upon the return.





Dear Charlie: Fuck You.

10 05 2012

But Now I’m a Little More Fit. So, Ha!

I was awoken at 6 o’clock this morning by the ripping excruciating pain of a Charlie Horse throbbing in my leg.

So I did the most illogical thing I could think of.

I went for a run.

I actually think my act of defiance worked. It was a better decision then staying in bed and having another one. Also, it gave me some “me time” before going to work for eight hours, which is where I probably established the beginning workings of said cramp. Standing on concrete every day for eight hours will do that.

Plus, now I got my healthy stuff done for the day, I worked out, I meditated, I drank a smoothie with spinach in it and everything (sorry for the noise Emily). If life is about balance I wonder how I’m going to fuck all that up tonight. I did rent a Star Trek porn, so it will probably be that and some Jameson. Real classy.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m a guy.

Not a man.

I feel like I was born into the right body and all that. But lately my masculine traits have been featured more in my day to day life. Am I transforming into a bro? For the love of the goddess help me.

Back to running. The thing is I like running, particularly in the morning, but I don’t like waking up in the morning. So there’s a problem there. I wish I could wake up every morning and run like super awesome healthy people do, and I know I COULD but sleeping is just so wonderful. I have motivation now. Sex.

Woah! woah! woah! You scream, “I thought this was MANLESS MAY!?!?!”

Don’t get your boxers in a bunch buddy.

It is.

But soon May will be over. And what better time then now, while I’m man-free to get sexy?

And by sexy, I mean sexier. And by sexier I mean improved endurance and definition.

Now, I know, there’s a lot of  people in my circle of people who discuss the concepts of body-image and media’s distorted portrayal, I can buy that argument–I mean it’s pretty obvious. But also, every individual has their own standards at which they feel attractive. Exercising gives me energy, which is the number one important thing to me.

And I’d like to be completely honest here, I don’t feel comfortable when I gain weight. It’s been a long time since it’s happened, like maybe when I was still just a vegetarian who drank too much beer, but if I put on too much fat on my hips it literally hurts. It’s not something I can get used to. Ever.  Everyone has their own level of comfort, their own level of standards for what makes them feel and look good.

So yeah, now that I’m done with that tangent, I ran today not just to defy Charlie and his stupid horse in my leg, but because I have a couple of mini-crushes and it’s good to always be prepared. One never knows where a crush may lead. . . (except in Man-less May, it’s pretty obvious it’s at least going to lead into June.)