I know I just posted one yesterday, but I had thoughts this morning and we all know I can’t keep thoughts inside my head. So here: 

Looking down into my jet-black cup of coffee,

that one that starts my day, everyday. 

Sometimes I wonder if the things I do make me seem boring or just as someone contently set in their ways. 

Routine is a healthy way of life, I’ve been told. 

Eat at the same times of day, exercise daily, have time for yourself everyday, have time for others. 

But this always happen to me. 

I set myself into a routine and skip around happily, but it always has it’s expiration date. 

I’m nearing it. I can feel it. 

I’m getting over having the same things for breakfast, drinking that same cup of coffee, going to the same classes, doing the same workout, waking up to the same window, doing the same things every.day.of.my.life. 

I’m itching for something different.

A new face. A new place. A new anything. 

What’s awful is…

that all of this is completely in my control. 

…Or maybe, that’s the best part of it. 

Good morning, good morning, good morning. 

Just wanted to throw a few words up here this morning.

I miss writing on here.

I always have a billion thoughts I’m mentally writing down as I walk around and then I come to my computer and don’t think their worthy to be put down here.  

You know, lately, I’ve been trying to figure out if better writing comes from our pains and sadness or the overwhelming abundance of joy…

I’m sure it differs for different people. I’m sure some people can write without either of the two. I for one definitely need a spark of something behind me to write something decent.

Anyway. Back to that good morning.

Back to my life and my last few weeks left of my freshman year of college. 

I’ve just felt so good. And excuse me for this, but sometimes I get so overwhelmed with how happy I’ve been…I get choked up thinking about it. 

When you’ve been sucked into a black hole of pain for so long, finally climbing out of it feels as though you’re just seeing the world for the first time. 

There’s so many things I’m determined to do now, I want to make the most out of being young because I know I won’t get this time back. 

And it’s not even that I have so much more to be happy about, not much around me has changed. I’ve just got nothing to be sad about anymore. 

There’s no reason to be upset about anything or worry too much. 

Because now I know and am confident in the fact that life will work itself out. 

It’s just this new perspective I’ve had. I don’t know if people can see it, or have noticed the change in demeanor. But, it’s there. 

The storm that usually erupts in my brain has been calm and peaceful. 

Smooth sailing and all that nice bullshit. 

It’s going to be a good day today. 

Going to a nude beach this weekend confirmed something for me, something I think we’ve all struggled with at some point in our lives:

The fact that every human body is different.

Nobody looks the same.

Therefore, there is no perfect body or “mold” we should strive to fit. 

You should just love the one you have.

Be grateful you’re alive and kickin. 

Stay healthy, stay happy. 

You know?

Yeah. 

She doesn’t want a fancy dinner and small talk.

Buy her a cup of coffee,

give her a few hours of real conversation,

maybe bring her a flower you plucked yourself,

it doesn’t take much.

Keep it simple. Keep it genuine.

That’s all she wants.

I was so consumed with the moon and stars on my drive home.
An orange sliver surrounded by bright bulbs of light scattered across the night sky.
Made me want to pull over and stare at them forever.

It was simply beautiful.

Me: I did this, this, and this. Is that okay?

Friends: it’s fine, you’re in college yolo. People do much worse.

Society: it’s fine, that’s just the way of your generation.

Best friends: Stop. Look what you’re turning into. You’re better than this. Don’t be that girl. You’re stupid, but I love you. You can change.

12 year old Me: You’re an idiot. Don’t talk to me.

Your lungs, alone, are breathing.

Your heart, alone, is beating.

Your mind, alone, is thinking.

Your mouth, alone, is smiling.

Your body, alone, is moving.

You, alone, are living.

You don’t need anybody else to keep you going.

Remember that.

(Source: sfmola)

And what if you never fell asleep at all?

I guess you’d judge it by the sun rising to then call it “morning”.

You know, these nights have come way less often than they used to.

These nights that my mind keeps me awake with complex, empty thoughts that lead me into a black hole of sleep deprivation. 

But when they come around, I almost treasure it. It’s an odd thing to cherish. A state of mind like this can be lethal. Teetering on the borderline of solitude and loneliness is a dangerous place to be. 

I just wish I could spend it differently. Like, I avidly sketched away in a spiral book with thick, bumpy paper and a charcoal that smeared just enough. Or like in books when the girl has that special place she ventures to at odd hours of the morning and smokes cigarettes. Or even planting myself in a 24 hour diner, chatting with the tired waitress while smooth jazz hums softly in the background. Bonding over the bags weighing beneath our eyes and ordering burnt, black coffee until the sun comes up. 

But my life is not a teen fiction novel. And I don’t smoke cigarettes. And I don’t find myself sketching. And I’m pretty sure there aren’t any 24 hour diners around here. 

When my mind refuses to succumb to sleep, it seeks refuge right here. Unloads its thoughts without censoring a word. Most of which should probably be written in a journal that I tuck away in my desk drawer. 

But here I am, that girl on tumblr.

Spilling her guts to strangers and a few friends in a completely public setting. 

Hello. 

I can’t sleep because I don’t want to sleep but I don’t know what I want right now so the only smart option here is to just go to sleep. 

Nothing good happens after 2 AM. 

when you have SO MUCH TIME for SO MANY THINGS and you’re so overwhelmed with the endless possibilities that you go on tumblr for hours. 

Whenever I think of doing something little abrupt or outrageous I always hear this British voice in the back of my head saying

“how could you be so bold?!” 

One of those moments that will stick in my head forever:
Hearing “Such Great Heights” while holdings hands with my complete stranger soulmate and then both of us looking at each other when “the freckles in our eyes are mirror images” was sung.

Is it weird that I can have the same thing for breakfast every morning and be completely content?

I’d say no, others could disagree, well this is my blog so I’ll go with no. 

Well, well, well, good morning kids!

I just had this urge to talk to you people, whoever you are that actually read this stuff, and wish you a happy day. 

Because why not start off your day on a good note, right?

So anyway, I got back from Coachella Monday morning.

After a 6 and half hour drive of nodding off and hallucinating that shadows were bridges, two giant cups of coffee, and having to slap myself to stay awake, we made it back to SLO by sunrise.

I don’t recommend anyone ever doing that ever. I barely remember the drive, I think I may have been asleep the whole time, but somehow awake enough to keep my foot on the gas pedal. Just don’t do it. 

So Coachella, it was definitely one of the best weekends of my life. 

I’m not sure how many places there are in the world that anyone can go to and just do whatever they want without anybody giving a damn about it.

You can dress anyway you want to, talk anyway you want to (yes, I used an Australian accent sometimes just for kicks), walk, skip, run, and jump at any moment. AND THE MUSIC.

AH MY GOD. I made the executive decision to make sure I saw my bands. And I went to most of those shows alone.

And I’ll tell you, going to shows alone is an amazing experience. 

For one, you can squirm your way up to the very front so easily.

And your only priority for that show is simply enjoying it.

And you make so many friends around you. It’s amazing. 

The music was phenomenal.

The people were fascinating, you could strike up a conversation with anybody and they were a joy to talk to. I met people from all over the world, it was great. 

Camping was a riot. Sleeping under the stars and waking up to the sun blaring in your face. An experience right there. 

And that Post-Coachella-Depression, well I’d say it’s kind of real.

I sure as hell wish I could go back right now.

But for me, I’m just really happy right now. It was such a fun experience that I’m glad I got to experience. 

And I know so many people make fun of it and the people who go to it, but really you just have to go and try it out for yourself.

You could hate it, or love it, or just feel indifferent about it, but it’s a personal thing. Just like any concert is. 

But there’s something about three days of music, people, bright colors, hellish heat, and grungy hair, that gets me way too excited.

I’ll for sure go next year. And until then, I’ll be counting the days. 

Well, have a good day. I just about finished my coffee.

Now I have to start my day.  

To start this one off, I just want to say I was pretty stupid this weekend.

But it made me realize something that, in my mind, helps me handle rejection a little better.

Because, we’ve all been there.

Somebody has never texted you back.

Or pretended they’re preoccupied with their phone when you walk past.

Or they’ve even tried to be nice about it, but their body language screams their “not interested” in you.

And you know, I feel we can’t get too bent up on rejection from others because we’ve all rejected people before.

We all have those people who we don’t want to talk to ever again, and cringe when they walk by or make eye contact with you.

It’s human nature. We hate conflict and confrontation, therefore we will try to avoid it at all costs if we have to.

Not everybody is going to like you, and you’re not going to like everybody and that’s okay.

It kinda sucks, but that’s just life. Right? Please, do correct me if I’m wrong.

It’s like Sandy cries at night because she loves Greg, but Greg loves Susie whose upset because she’s in love with John who has been hopelessly in love with Sandy for years.

And all of these ignore the person that longs for them, and cries about the one they long for.

That’s all I really have to say about that.

And, I’m sorry kid.

At least you’ve more guts than I do to keep trying.