If it’s too cheap I won’t value it. give it worth and I’ll give you your own space on the wall. A picture frame and everything. And you’ll last forever in your pre-worn state. Loved and loved and looked upon, your new invisible shine wearing off as I love you some more. Consumerism or human nature? Either way, I’m infatuated. This is a cliché metaphor. You don’t have to tell me twice. I really wasn’t thinking of you at the start, I was thinking of Polaroid vs. digital pictures. But no matter what I do – you’re always there. Aren’t you?

He collects them, those souvenir pennies with the imprint on them. “Can I have fifty one cents?” He even has a book to keep them in. Jaxon’s Ice Cream to Universal Studios. In California once, while he was busy with one of the machines, Maryanne told me the pennies that come out aren’t the pennies you put in. They aren’t even real pennies. Apparently that would be defacing American currency and that’s illegal. They’re just smushed pieces of copper. I don’t have the heart to tell him. He always asks for the shiniest penny. I hope he never finds out.

I’m getting infatuated all over again. And that’s dangerous. He breaks up with me and now he’s acting super interested. Sure, the pressure for sex is off; we can just hang out and be chill. But now he’s calling when he doesn’t have to – just to see if I’m back in town or not. Inviting me inside when he knows I have to go. I just – I don’t know. I want to cry and laugh. Irony does that I guess. I don’t want this to be my fault again.

I’ll let him set the pace. Instead of me pushing it.

I can’t take these senseless killings. Just another senseless killing. In West Palm Beach. How fucked up does our society have to be when we say things like “just another senseless killing.” Fucked up not just because we say this as if it’s nothing, but because – people ARE killing senselessly. Why? Our generation was not raised well. Or – the laws are too messed up. These are bad times. And I don’t know what to do.

Not everything happens for a reason. Which makes me think nothing does. And I don’t like thinking like that. I don’t know what to think.

Reflecting white reflections The negative of you. Only in memory your face lingers You asked me if I fed the cat. Wrapped in stiff sheets I turned over, camera pointed at you unsuspecting, unprepared, unlovely. You didn’t smile.

I wonder if we’ll ever be okay; if you like me at all.

I am so tired of being human; complicated. Reasons on top of reasons covering up all the impulses and emotions. The love and instability and emotions. After years of analyzing studying theorizing - have we found anything out?

Boys are bad at the phone. And girls just want love.

It didn’t work out. But I’m not giving up. I’m not calling him either. He’ll come to me. Eventually. I hate that we have to move so slow. But we do. I know. I like him a lot. I’m going to help this along. And not sabotage. I’m not going to call him. Or visit him at work. I’ve tried the “no games.” It doesn’t work. As human beings in relationships, we need the suspense, the tension.

Carrie Bradshaw just asked if we just date the same person over and over again. This episode is about breaking your relationship pattern…

It’s cold again. We slept together when it started to get cold this year.

I’m afraid to say what I’ve already said And mean it.

I’m just afraid. I might cry.

Why are people so hard? We can’t just do and say whatever. We have to be careful. Not show too much. Not BE too much.

I was too much.

I know now.

Am I getting a second chance? I want one.

I do.

My lips get so red when we kiss. My eyes get so blue.
I more than like him.
I wonder if he knows.
Just how much.

The world is in synch right now. We are all in the same groove. In my world we all are. I hope so in yours too. Those times when everything points to one very real very obvious thing. For me, it’s this boy.

It
Will
Be
Oh
Kay.

I know it. I don’t know what’s going on, but I know it’s going to turn out fine with minimal to no damage.

Synchronization.
I love the world on those days.
Especially when it’s to tell me something I want to hear.
Please,
Tell me more.
I’ll strain to hear you whisper.

Why are we so complicated? We need these … distractions. I don’t understand. If you love someone, you should act like it.

We always believe our worst reviews.
“you were great.”
mmm.

I should tell him he’s great more often. I always make it about me. What about him? What does he want to do? Well besides only what I want to do and “me.” How does he feel? I don’t have a clue but I can help it along with some positive feedback. He needs to feel loved too. Even though… I’m very loving. And not just in bed.

I am so scared. I’m crying spontaneously. I think of him – and cry.

I’m so confused.
I wish someone could hold my hand.
But this is my life – I have to live it.
With my decisions.
My emotions.

I am going to deal with this. This love thing. I am going to love him. I am going to keep living, keep doing what we do but really I just want it to progress into something more comfortable. Because right now – we are on the edge of the cliff and I don’t know how much longer I can hold my breath.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t been listening to music as much.
Or I haven’t gone dancing in forever.
Or drank.
Or been with my friends and done all of the above
In a very long time.

Why do I get so anxious
Upset
Nervous
Crazy
Sometimes?

I hope – he can learn to deal with me. How to deal with me.

I’m falling in love with him
And I really can’t handle breaking up again.

I need
To
Chill
Out.
Calm down.

Oh god. Relationships are ridiculous.
Men want space
And women want to be pampered.
Don’t the two ever meet?

Sometimes I fall in love. Sometimes I fall in love with actual people who can love me back. Sometimes these people are named Jessie insert hard to pronounce French last name here. Sometimes these people named Jessie love you back, but can’t really show it. Sometimes I go insane, but can’t really cover it up. Sometimes I realize I stress out over nothing. Sometimes I realize I stress out over something very real.

He can’t commit to me.
He loves me.
Isn’t that a commitment in itself?

Is he allowed to say he loves me without doing anything about it?

His jeans and underwear have been here since Monday. I know admitting this will instantly make me a dirty, disgusting creep, but I don’t care. I smell them. They smell like him.

I won’t be cliché and tell you the smell is indescribable, but I will say, I can’t describe it.
Sweet skin and smoke and sex.
It’s sort of something you’ll never encounter.
Like Camel cigarettes.
You’ll never understand.
Like Old Spice deodorant.
I guess you had to be there.

My name is Chelsea and yes, I smelled your jeans and underwear while you were gone.
So, shoot me.

This kid no one liked at work quit today. He was sick. Pobrecita.

Have you ever seen a painting breathe? A map swim and move? Faces drown and sink?
I guess you’ve never been on shrooms.

I want to see the world through shroom-goggles. I didn’t even trip that hard. Didn’t hallucinate. Just – saw some nice things.
I know. I missed my era.
Darn shame.

I want to see everything in Technicolor
See you with not just blue-green eyes
But beautiful universes of oceans with a heart inside
Where you pump blood and quicken pace
When I kiss your neck.

It’s so hard to appreciate everything we have. If we did we’d all be so exhausted. Thank for my health, my education, my family, my friends, my pretty eyes, my native country, laadlkfjaldkfj…. I wish I could… feel more appreciative.

This boy on tv had an enormous tumor on his face.
He’s only five.

Realizing nothing is fair and everything is random is a tough blow to faith and love.
I guess I’ll survive.

Thank you world, although I know it was random. Thank you for being there anyway.
Also, thanks for speaking to me in whispers.
I love you.

A single girl.
I feel like I’m Miranda. “Don’t act so surprised I’m ‘just me’.”
I’m growing up too fast.
I feel my hormones running around – and not just the boy crazy ones.

I want babies
And a husband
And a house and a family and a van and Gymboree.

Being a girl is so damned hard.
And it’s not because of Eve.
Or because we’re built to handle it.
I don’t know why.
I’m just tired.

Tired of feeling like I’m crazy
Or “too much”
Or neurotic.

Hormones, I fucking hate you.
I want to feel sane for once.

He’s making me make a grownup decision. He’s the child so I have to be the adult. It’s not fair. I’m not mature enough, I’m not strong enough to say no. No, because it’s not good for me; no to attention and love and sex just because I can’t handle the consequences.

He’s…
So beautiful. Why can’t he be beautiful when we’re not together?
If only he hadn’t said he loved me.
So I couldn’t start thinking about really loving him, too.

I’m too tired to grow up.
I just want to have fun.
Never-never-land is leaving sight.
This sucks.

Ride a wave and then flip to your back and float and sing.
Dog paddling and swimming
Your face is down
And your head is concentrating on moving
Keep going
Don’t look up.
What’s the rush?
Time will keep going
And things will keep happening…
Float
And leave yourself alone.

I’m gonna leave myself alone for awhile.
Not worry about moving forward or backward.
Just float.
Enjoy the company as it fades in and out
Passes by on boats
Floats by.

I’ll be okay.
And I guess
I guess
It was worth the lesson.

Hopefully it sticks around for awhile.

My favorite fictional couple is Big and Carrie.
He ruins her life
And then saves her.
He’s an ass
But he loves her.
He’s consistently a douchebag.

This is my relationship model.
I am Carrie.
I let myself get treated
The way she does.

A roomful of people. They all were in agreement against me.
"Big's a douchebag. He doesn't deserve Carrie."
"What?!”

Was Katy right?
Am I putting too much weight in a television show?

I think the perfect relationship is full of problems and fights and affairs and breakups and detachments.
Why?
Is there something wrong with me?

Binge and purge.
Me and you.
This week we purge.
We just had a 24 hour plus binge.
How are you so less hungry than I am?
I’m starving.
I’m always starving.
Satiate me.
Satiate me.

It’s never enough.
I want you all the time.
More
More
More.
Bottomless.
But you –
A drop,
A sliver,
A phone call,
A drive home
Is enough.

Why?

Love me harder.
Fuck me harder.
Kiss me harder.

Don’t caress,
Grab.
Don’t touch,
Squeeze.
I want to feel you
Your weight and pressure
Everywhere.

Love me
So I feel it
And not just know it.

We’ll go exploring someday and find
More than ugly Florida brush.
One day
I hope you will explore my heart.
If you do,
Without much trouble you’ll find
You’ve already conquered it.
This territory is yours.
I’ve been trying to give it you.
I’m not sure if you’ve noticed.
I’m not sure… you want it.
To be truthful,
It is all yours
But,
It’s only a lease.
Time-sensitive.
It will expire.
I think this
You know.

Are you waiting for the expiration date?
If you discover me before then,
There is time for a renewal, you know.
I do love you.

I don’t go to the library to study
Or to the dining hall to eat
Or the book store to read.

We don’t need to talk
Or even see eachother completely
Know eachother
Sometimes
Most times
It’s enough to know you’re there
Someone is there
Living breathing existing
In the same space
Sharing my air

To dispel loneliness
Sometime’s it enough
To just share air
Other times
It’s the seasalt on the wounds.

Luckily, that’s not today.

Is it ironic I come here
[the dining hall –
Anywhere]
To cure loneliness
And isolate myself with intimidating headphones
Notebook
And a pen?

The tree of life is a mirage. A trick.
Maybe we made it up. A collective fantasy that we all felt.
An innate fantasy.
But it’s not real.
Not in the way we see it.
The tree of life was never meant for us.
If there is a tree of life
It was meant for the earth.

We are meant to die.
We do die.
But we last forever.
We live forever.

My soul is here and now. My body is too.
One will die, the other will live.
There is no forever young.
Immortality.
Because we already have it.

I’m so sick of love. I don’t want to fall in love. I really don’t. I want to be okay with just breathing alone in my room for a while. I don’t want to ache for anyone.

I do want to have sex with David.
But it wouldn’t be empty sex. We have the high school crush thing. I don’t want to be in love with David. I want to have sex with David. Cuddle.

You can only think about something for so long before it just becomes a habit, a tick, that you just can’t help but think about.

It’s official. I like Subway kid. And I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m cute.
Self, there are THREE other boys you’ve put effort into. Subway kid, dining hall boy, and Tommy. And I’d be willing to bet good money that any one of them would be nicer to you than Jessie.
Don’t think about it.

I’m not sure why but there are two girls on LJ that feel like I understand them and really value what I say. Even though I don’t really say anything too amazing or helpful they… like me.

Youth. We just want to be listened to.

Today is my ex-good friend’s birthday. Two years ago I was wasted. Black out wasted. Going from party to party to Fort Lauderdale ending up in some hotel room with just her and Katy because all our friends, on this particular night decided to express their dislike for Laura. Not so surprisingly, she didn’t notice too much. She was just pissed no one but me and Katy stayed in the hotel room. We only stayed because we felt bad.

Laura made our lives a little too complicated, a little too miserable. We were scared of her, really.

I miss her.

Dear Jessie,
Stop hurting me.

Dear Nicholas,
Thank you for helping me grow.

Dear Katy,
We’ll be together forever. I love you.

Dear Tommy,
If you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back. I don’t know where I am right now. But the one thing that could definitely define me and Jessie, is another relationship.

Dear Greg,
You don’t know it, but you’re my only friend in Gainesville. And we’ve never even hung out.

Dear Boy at Subway,
I think you’re cute.

Dear Boy in Dining Hall
You intrigue me and I would really like to talk to you.

Love, Me.

I rarely think about him. I guess, when I see “Margaritaville” or a pirate skull and bones.

I… don’t miss him that much. I miss him. But – well, I guess it just doesn’t hurt anymore. I still love him and wish him all the happiness and love he deserves. But now, it feels okay if it’s not me that gives it to him. We weren’t meant for each other. Maybe – in another life we were, but not this one.

I still love him. Thinking about him now, I know that.

I hope he’s happy.
He’s twenty five in four days.

Why do I find growling sexy? Why do we kiss? It’s a precursor to sex. Is it a trial?

The other night I was talking to Daniel about kissing. He says the current theory in behavioral science as to why humans kiss is that as we swap saliva we’re also subconsciously analyzing the other’s DNA and the more they contrast the more likely we are to mate because it will ensure that our offspring will have a higher selection of traits and qualities.

It’s nice to analyze every once in a while.
But too much –
Would definitely make me crazy.

Do you think there is a set amount of happiness in the world? Covering the earth like another transparent ozone layer. But in certain areas it gets sucked in. A concentration in Los Angeles. An apparent hole over Africa. Maybe that’s why as population increases we’re getting even more and more unhappy.

Do you think things like that are possible? That there could be a fixed amount of… love. Can you only love so much? Can the world only have so much love in it? Can emotions be controlled by nature like oxygen or rain?

I couldn’t sleep last night.

I don’t miss my mom and I feel horrible.

Recently, I’ve been wishing she were different. Not so – that way she is. Because I’ve been wanting to talk to her about Jessie. But not her. This imaginary mom-type that would give me advice and not judge me or be overbearing and tell me what to do and what NOT to do.

Maybe this is my fault. Our lack of a mother-daughter relationship.
It just so highly depends on both of our moods.
I still can’t bring myself to tell her anything.
Or even be around her.
I’m a horrible daughter.