I Had A Point Once, But Hear Me Out Anyway

It’s exciting to be back in a writing mind. I’m eager to get my thoughts out, and I look forward to the dialogue my posts may open up.

But the mind to write isn’t the same mind to publish, and regaining that drive has been frustrating, to say the least. When I’m not meeting you all here, I’m meeting myself in my head. I write in my notebooks pretty often, here’s a look into what that looks like:

These pages are a visual interpretation of how I think. Colorful, all over the place, outside the lines, too much to even fit the boundaries of each sheet, and not even always in English. It’s hard enough for me to turn actual blog ideas into a coherent post, so I can’t say much of this book gets transferred here.

But I woke up this morning, drank some water, visited my notebook for a fresh new page, and wrote myself into a little mental breakdown. After I had a good cry and washed my face, I thought I might share some of what I wrote.

For a little context, I’ve been frustrated with myself and how easily I throw my plans aside for others’ sake when it’s not necessary or even noble to do. This constant self sacrifice has been eating at me in different ways and as I — eh, let me just quote the book and we can go from there.

Why are you so willing to hold yourself back? And also, why can’t I just cry? Sitting on the brink of myself is physically jarring. It hurts. The pain is strange.. It’s like being attacked by an internal black hole. Just an aggressive pulling, denying my escape, preventing the release, blocking the healing. No motive, just there. Tormenting.

I had a point to share all of this, but honestly the struggle to open up in this way took all of my focus away. It feels important still, so please excuse the scattered nature of this post.

All I can do at this point is ramble a little and hope it goes somewhere, so bare with me. I don’t mean to continue the same energy as the last post. You guys come here to laugh most of the time, and I’ll get to that. I want to get back to that.

But maybe it was that perceived pressure to be light and quirky and witty that led me to isolate myself when I felt none of those things. I’d rather be real with you than to not speak at all.

I was blown away at the reception of my last entry, actually. It wasn’t easy being that honest, and I really appreciate all of the responses I received, and the support and love. I don’t necessarily write with anything in mind besides clearing my head and shouting into the void about any and everything. So when my writing is actually relatable or helps in any way, even to just one person reading, it surprises and humbles me.

The more I write and share, the more I get to see the multidimensional nature of people, as well as myself, and it changes my worldview more and more each time. I feel empowered, I feel more forgiving and empathetic, I feel more curious, I feel more unaffected by fuckery, I feel hopeful.

I don’t really know how to wrap up this trash fire of a blog post. But hey, I hope any of you reading struggling to find that release from whatever finally snap. Because yeah, I woke up this morning and promptly fell apart, but I also got this written, drank water, moisturized my hair, and I’m gonna finish crocheting a scarf when I’m done typing this up on my phone(I’ll fix formatting issues when I get to a computer by the way) all before 11am! I can’t remember the last time I was this productive. Snap the fuck out, safely and constructively, but do it. Get there. Bye.

4 Days of Spazmas: Gifts

Christmas always has this way of sneaking up on me every single year. I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but by the time I’m ready to do the Christmas, it’s tomorrow and CRAP. Nothing is getting done and nobody is getting love in the form of feasible gifts until February. And I’m sorry. Christmas never ends in Storm’s world. And hey, that’s not the worst thing is it?

I feel the pressure now more than I ever have. You know how as a kid, you aren’t expected to get gifts for people? Like what can you do? You have no job or money, or any sense that others matter. So you get a pass. Your family is just happy to spend time with you and be a part of your memories.

I am well beyond that point. My presence isn’t enough anymore. I have employment. I receive help from family on a much larger scale than I ever have. I need to…write cards, and get gifts…and wrap them and stuff. I need to appreciate people and show them that I care, I really do. Now I’m in Philadelphia, where I intend on staying for the foreseeable future. That means I will have friendships for the first time in life that I won’t move away from after a few years. I’m actually in the same place as family now. I have no excuse for not being more giving. And I have gone one more year failing to mentally and financially prepare myself for that. Again, sorry.

And as for receiving gifts, that’s even more difficult than getting them for other people. I don’t want anything. Really, I have a very limited amount of things that I would ever ask for.

Here’s my thing. If I can’t eat it or use it on a regular basis, I DO NOT WANT IT. I don’t know if that makes me easier or more difficult to buy for. But keep your knick knacks. Have you seen my room? It looks like I moved in last week, and I’ve been in that apartment for like half a year now. That’s because I have no storage space for the junk I already own. If you give me something that I have to find a place for, it’s not going to be a good time for me. Please don’t clutter my life. I don’t want a candle. I don’t want a plushie animal thing. What do they do for my life besides sit in the corner of my room and leave me paranoid at night because DAMMIT I SAW IT MOVE ITS ARM, I SWEAR TO YOU THAT JUST HAPPENED.

Some people think it’s an insensitive and/or lazy gesture, but trust me just give me money. I like saving money for my weird things that I would never ask anyone to buy me because they’re expensive. Like a SpiritHood or a OnePiece suit, or Black Milk leggings, or custom Storm headphones So you would contribute to one of the few material things I value highly, and I’d appreciate that much more than you wracking your minds trying to think of what to get me.

Or give me gift cards. But ask me what stores I like but never go to. Then you can force me to indulge in things I like but never enjoy.

Or buy me socks. Families start way too early gifting socks. Nobody wants socks as a kid. But oh my Lord am I so happy to get socks from people. I love socks. Weird socks. Knee highs. Thigh highs. All the crazy patterns or jokes or kittens shooting lasers out of their eyes. Y’kno, whatever. Socks are just the greatest. Get me socks, I’ll love you forever.

I also collect Tshirts. I really dig fruit snacks. And coffee is my life source.

Ultimately though, I value time over anything tangible. I don’t have the best memory of my childhood and stuff. It’s a little frustrating. I don’t know why I can’t remember much of anything. It’s left me kind of crazy about making memories with people I love and care about. So let’s go do something, together. Or let’s do nothing together, maybe. Those are some of my best stories, doing nothing with good company.

So yeah, that’s my deal with gifts and whatever. I’m all about presence over presents. Anyways, more Spazmas ranting coming tomorrow!