Hair loss and Nervousness.

"I pulled out my ponytail, ran my fingers through my hair and all of this came out. I think my hair is falling out again."

"How do you know? Maybe you're shedding or something."

"No... I keep track of these things."

"Is it as bad as before?"

"Well no, obviously not since I'm just noticing it now."

"Well then that's good!"

"But this is exactly how it started."

"Yeah but it's not where it was before!"

"Yeah, because if it's not at its peak, then everything's fine."

"Yeah!!"

...

Today was a bad day as far as anxiety goes. Well actually, it was super super bad.

Normally my anxiety comes out in my mini panic attacks (usually only in the evening), insomnia, or in the form of major social anxiety.

But today my body was like, "HEY! Wouldn't it be fun to feel super fucking nervous, all goddamn day!?"

It was like in high school, when your class has presentations due. You're just sitting there, knowing that you're going to have to stand up in front of the whole fucking class and talk about something you have no interest in, in a matter of minutes. You don't know when you'll be called but ohhhhhhh yess, you will be called, and you will go up there.

You start off with this feeling in your stomach; as if you're carrying a brick or a fucking black hole in there. Then as time goes by, and presentation after presentation is completed, it just gets worse, and worse.

Your heart starts racing, your feet start tapping, your fingers start twitching.

Pure panic has set in, and this was exactly how I felt all day today.

I couldn't think of a reason as to why this panic set in, but it was there; and it wasn't going anywhere.

All day really I was deep-breathing. Deep breath in, deep breath out. My mom was going crazy, "STOP SIGHING SO MUCH".

Every so often the panic would amplify and I'd start pacing around the house to try to settle my nerves. But it didn't really help...

Ughhhh I hate anxiety. I hate being afraid of absolutely nothing. It's so fucking annoying! Especially because I'm not even conscious of the reason behind it all!

- Mint.

Happy holidays and all that jazzzz

Today is Christmas and I received a few books and a few candles.

Which is all very nice and lovely and I'm not complaining at all because the books are books I want to read, and the candles are scents I specifically picked out. Except for one candle... and it smells yuck to be quite frank.

The most important part is that my mother liked the painting I painted for her (I painted van Gogh's Starry Night and it's amazing, it really is, I'm so proud of it).

I still have to paint the painting that I'm giving to my dad, which is fine because he's not here until tomorrow so I'm not even late technically, and I have to paint something for my brother's birthday which is on the 29th.

This is an odd way to segue into what I want to talk about next so just bare with me, I'm running on little sleep.

I was thinking about 2014 and returning to Kelowna once again (this seems to be a thought that I'm obsessing over a lot for good reason), and I decided that I want to spend a lot of time in the library, and on the coast, and in the trails. I want to spend time with friends doing nothing really. I want to be with them, but I want to be reading beside them or writing, or painting, while they study or do whatever they want to do.

I know I probably won't do any of this because I'll become sad and scared and lock myself up in my room to contemplate suicide; but it's a good thought. You know? A good picture to run towards.

I want to spend the next few months deep in thought. I want to explore myself more than ever; and since I don't have any major stressing priorities, I should be able to manage it, and learn a bit.

I want to explore TEDTalks, and learn about psych because I want to, not because I have to. You know?

I feel like living this way for a while will be eye-opening. Because I've never lived like this before.

I hope to get a job at the coffee shop that's a block away so that way I'll be able to walk to work and enjoy nature twice daily.

I find that when I have to do something for work as opposed for pleasure, I'm much more likely to do it without any anxiety whatsoever. Which is good because I like walking, and it'd help me walk other places by myself as well.

Anyway, I just wanted to mention those thoughts. Hopefully depression doesn't take over. I'd really appreciate it.

- Mint.

Note to self.

STOP IT. STOP IT. JUST FUCKING STOP IT.

Stop thinking of yourself as a failure. You haven't actually failed. Dropping out of something that you're not so into is not failing. You made a decision, an executive one at that and now you're free.

You're not failing, you're not becoming a disappointment. You're ripping off chains, and tearing down walls.

Yeah it's scary, because you might just get crushed under falling bricks, and you don't know what lies in the great beyond, but... isn't it worth the risk?

You've lived 20 years in the same place; staring at the same four walls. You've been secure, and you knew exactly what would happen every minute of every day.

But this wasn't something you found comfort in, was it? Security makes you feel shackled, and trapped. You craved adventure and kept your head in the clouds, a form of escapism, I'd say.

So look now! You're finally doing it. You're walking outside, you're demanding freedom, you're at the beginning of a path, a path that you will build. There's no right way, there's no wrong way. You don't know where you're going, and there's nothing wrong with that! As long as you move.

Standing still, that's failure. Letting time race by while you simply implode within yourself.

If you're unhappy, fucking do something to make you feel better. Read a book, paint a picture, go outside.

Prune out the people in your life who make you wait. Keep the ones that follow the current. Because you know what? That's what you're doing! You're following your current, isn't that cool?

You've always admired the free spirit. But never thought of yourself as one. Is that because you never had the space to breathe and move? I think so. Because now you're moving and you're breathing and sighs of relief are pouring out of you; even though you're terrified and sunk in a pit of helplessness.

You're free! You're free! And it's your time to fly! You will make mistakes, but you will learn from them. That's why mistakes exist; they're tools.

You'll fall, you'll get back up.

You're a phoenix and you're meant to change and be reborn. So don't be afraid when you feel yourself dying.

So fucking stop planning to self-destruct already. Stop thinking of tomorrow as today. Stop being sad. Just stop.

You've been given freedom. Not everyone gets that. Not everyone wants that. But you have it, and I think it's quite obvious that you want it to.

So run with it! Live simply, so that you can have more time to soar, and keep those goddamn feet off the ground; it's not for you.

You can do it, don't you worry. Just live and if you don't like something, change it, because you can.

- Mint.

I think my hair is falling out again.

Back in 2011 my hair fell out in like individual strands, but now it's falling out in chunks.

It's really scary washing your hair and having chunks fall out. Or brushing your hair, getting to a knot, and just having the whole fucking chunk come out like it's nothing.

I don't like it.

Just thought I'd put that out there.

- Mint.

It's 11:11, make a wish.

Had a productive day of self-destruction.

Cutting this morning, and purging this evening.

Lovely.

It's really because I'm lonely and sad and scared of life really.

Which I've already gone over multiple times.

So I'll skip my moaning and complaining this time.

I cut mainly because I was in the bathroom, ready to take a shower, and I saw my scissors, just sitting on the counter, beckoning. I have no idea what they were doing there, but I figured that cutting and then immediately showering would take care of the bloody mess, depending on how deep I cut.

So I cut, not very deep since I haven't in forever and don't really want to make a habit out of it. But yeah, I cut 10 times apparently and then hopped right in.

I purged later on when my mom was out (yay for second successful purge ever! Not.) because I was thinking about the future and it made me feel sick and uncomfortable and I just had to get some food out.

I don't like purging. It's so sad.

Last night, after writing my last post, my mom started getting mad at me for being unhappy. And she was saying things like, "Would you go see someone about this? I'd go with you if you wanted." and, "What about anti-depressants?"

And it's like wow. She's never mentioned these things before. I've been depressed for like 5 years straight, and she just realizing now that I'm not a big ball of sunshine? It's so weird.

Anyway, of course I'm not going to see someone. I'm a psych student after all. Why would a magician pay to watch his own show?

And I'd never take drugs. Never ever. I just don't want to get into it.

But yeahhhhh. Now you're all updated again! Good for you! Good for me for updating! Hurray!

- Mint.

My heart is dripping with venom and spite.

Feeling reallllll lonely right now.

Real lonely, real sad, real depressed, real hopeless.

Real fat too, fuck, the holidays and food, it's so goddamn annoying, and I'm so goddamn annoying too because I fucking eat it all.

I wish life was like a video game; where you can just turn it off when you're satisfied with your progress, or frustrated at how idiotic it is.

Fucking hate life. If it wasn't so hard to get out of, and so dramatic I'd have left longgggg ago.

Did I ever mention the girl from my town that died on November long weekend while driving back to school?

If not, she was a year younger than me, went to the same university as me, and was supposed to come home with me that weekend.

I didn't go with her or vice versa because I didn't think I'd have that weekend off, buttttt I did.

It's an odd thought, how close I could've been to death, and how someone I actually knew, is now dead. She's the first person that I personally know to have died.

But I handle death differently than most. I don't feel sad for the person who's gone really, I just feel like, "Oh, she's gone... huh."

Anyway, when she died my town made this huge deal about how much they loved her and missed her and it's so fake and overdone that it's sickening.

Some people are still going on about it. But it's like, if you weren't really fucking close with her, or family, get the fuck over it. People die all the time. It's part of life. She wasn't really happy anyway.

I wish I had died instead. That would've been a blessing for sure. Ya, it's selfish because AH! What about my family!? What about B?! But I'm not dead, so get over yourself.

If I die young though, and people in this goddamn town hear about it, I will be so fucking pissed if they try to say how tragic it was, or how much they'll miss me, or what a delight I was to have around.

I will personally haunt every fake fucker that spits transparent condolences onto my grave; onto my fucking facebook wall. My face would be an eternal sneer from all the disgust I'd be a witness to.

It's sick how people glorify the dead, when they don't give a shit for the living.

Anyway. To sum: I'm lonely and sad and wanna be dead.

- Mint.

I'm really proud of the fact that I've written more this year than any of year I've had this blog.

So last night my mom and I were looking at Christmas lights and when we were driving we were talking about the future.

2014 is going to be a big year for my family! My brother is moving to the coast, my mother is moving to where I'm living, my father and his new family are moving there as well.

2014 is the year my entire family says goodbye to Alberta and this goddamn hell hole of a town for good. We'll have no reason to go back!

My mother's business is officially sold, and she's now officially retired. She's hoping to move out in spring or summer (depending when she sells the house/finds a place to live).

The person I'll be rooming with next year will actually be moving in at the end of April which is exciting and brings up a question.

Am I going home to Alberta for summer?

I asked my mom when she was thinking of moving and she answered with "spring or summer, depending" and that's when I asked my question aloud.

She asked me what I wanted to do, but apparently, as soon as the words were out, and hanging in the air before me, I knew.

Fuck no. I was definitely not going back to Alberta for summer. Fuck it! Fuck everyone in this fucking town! Fuck them and their buzz kill qualities! Fuck them for being pieces of shit.

Fuck Alberta for holding hicks galore, and fuck the oil and gas industry for making them feel like they're the fucking best.

Fuck it! I'm staying in BC, I'm living in my goddamn apartment, with myyyyy new roommate. I'm going to sand my fucking oak coffee table, stain the hell out of it, make it beautiful as hell and get drunk by the beach.

Yeah, I'll come visit B, and get my hair cut in Alberta because I loveeeeee my hairdresser here, but that's it.

All I need from Alberta is a place to road trip to to see the mountains.

That's it.

And I'm going to trip 'er down to the coast for a bit in the summer, and depending on who I meet and how much money I have saved, I'll trip 'er down to Oregon too. Goddamn it.

This is a new chapter, and I'm excited about realizing it. I'm excited to be done with what seemed like an eternity with the fuckers who live here.

I'm so done. And it's awesome.

FUCK KALEY. FUCK KYLER. FUCK IZZY. FUCK EVERYONE.
FUCK NICOLE AND HER GODDAMN FUCKING FAMILY OF SHIT, WHO ROB PEOPLE OF THEIR MONEY.
YEAH BITCH, I KNOW ABOUT THAT SHIT. MY MOM'S YOUR FUCKING ACCOUNTANT.
FUCK ALL THE FAKE FUCKS WHO ARE SO GODDAMN SWEET TO YOUR FACE THAT YOU END UP WANTING TO BARF ALL OVER THEIR CHEAP ASS SHOES.
FUCK THE MEMORIES OF MY FRIENDS WHO RUINED MY LIFE AND MADE ME SORE AND UNTRUSTING AND COLD AND SAD AND EVERYTHING BAD.
FUCK YOU AND YOUR BABY JESSICA.
FUCK YOU.
I HOPE YOU DIE I REALLY DO, BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT, I'LL HATE YOUR GUTS FOR ETERNITY.
AND FUCK YOU HAILEY FOR BEING AN ANNOYING PIECE OF SHIT. I HATE YOU, I ALWAYS HATED YOU, GET OVER IT.
FUCK THE HICKS WHO ARE SO GODDAMN FULL OF THEMSELVES. FUCK EVERYONE WHO WILL AMOUNT TO NOTHING WITH THEIR GODDAMN BACHELOR'S OR COMMERCE.
FUCK YOU.
I KNOW YOU'RE ALL CHEATING YOUR WAY THROUGH IT. YOUR ENTIRE GRAD CLASS IS WITH YOU EVERY STEP OF THE FUCKING WAY.
YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GO FAR IN LIFE. YOU DON'T THINK, YOU DON'T LEARN, YOU DON'T WONDER,

YOU DON'T THINK

I'm soooooo over it. And it feels good. Rot in hell bitches, oh wait, you're already there.

- Mint.

I'm going crazy from boredom and also eating a lot of cookies from boredom too and it's not good at all.

I crave things to help express my emotions and right now I'm craving laughter and it's like, HOW DOES ONE GO ABOUT SEARCHING FOR JOKES.

Like, I literally just wanna go "HAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA" so bad.

I wanna open my mouth, tilt my head back, and just EXPELL laughter out of the black pit that is my esophagus.

But how do I do that. And mean it?

I'm reading my Hyperbole and a Half book righ' now and it's helping a bit, but it's not busting those haha's and jaja's out the way I'd hope, ja feel?

If I was in high school right now, this would be the part of the day where I start harassing my friends for entertainment. I'd smack them with things and be a little weird ass freak, just to amuse myself.

I'd start doodling and being obnoxious and just do random fucking shit to make myself laugh.

Wiggling is a big one that I do.

I awkwardly wiggle and dance and act all serious while doing it, looking deep into my friends' eyes, slowly approaching them.

I swear to god, it's the funniest fucking thing ever. Because they wanna laugh and be like, "lul" but they can't help to look at you with fear and concern ALL OVER THEIR FACES. And it's just so funny, I highly recommend it.

BUT ALAS, I am not in high school, and it is 11:30 at night. SO FUCK, what the hell am I going to do here?

Goddamn it, I have no idea.

I wish I had some social interaction goin' on here. It'd help me a lot. Distract me from my obvious decay of sanity.

BLAHHHHHHHH

HAHAHAAHHAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA

1. ENTERTAIN ME
2. ENTERTAIN ME
3. ENTERTAIN ME
4. ENTERTAIN ME
5. GODDAMN IT.

- MINT.

I AM ANGRY AND WANT TO YELL AND KICK SOME PEOPLE'S ASSES RIGHT NOW.

I am sooooooo fuckinggggggg madddddd righttttttt nowwwwww.

Yesterday Pumpkin finally got her ginger ass home, and we were supposed to hang out at 2. She didn't get around to texting me until 4. But then she was busy watching children with her sister until 6. But thennnn she had to make supperrrrr and eat supperrrrrrr.

And it's like, OH, MY GOD. I JUST WANTED TO GO FOR A FUCKING WALK THAT'S IT.

She was like, "maybe we could watch a movie or play video games or something after I'm done stuffing my face with probably potatoes and bread." and I was like fuckkkkkk that shit. I want to do something.

Anyway, after stealing my mom's car to go buy smokes and calming down after watching a shitload of youtube videos, I texted her again, seeing if she would be up to going for a walk.

But of courseeeeee she didn't fucking reply. What was I thinking!? It was dark! And icey! And 9 o'clock at night! HEAVENS NO.

I also texted my guy friend who lives here and he was like, "you're too far away and it's too late"

AND I'M LIKE OMG YOU PEOPLE ARE 20 YEARS OLD, NOT 55 LIKE WTF. IT'S A WALK. LET'S GO FOR A WALK.

Anyway, I asked Pumpkin again if she wanted to go for a walk today and she said sure but she had to get ready first.

AN HOUR AND A HALF OF WAITING AND GETTING FURIOUS LATER, I texted her being like, "whatever I'm over it. Imma just work on some Christmas presents"

CAUSE LIKE SERIOUSLY, WHO TAKES AN HOUR AND A HALF TO GET PREPARED, FOR A FUCKING WALK.

She texted me back all sassy like, "wow I was just going to text you. But whatever, I've got shit to do anyway" and it's like yeah, alright Pumpkin, like what you fucking cheez-it?

FUCK. I'M SO MAD. Why are people in this town, SO. FUCKING. GAY AS HELL.

Like seriously!! I wanna know! I really do. Can we just kill them all off? Because seriously, they're wasting space and killing my buzz.

No wonder I was drunk all fucking summer. You've got to be to hang out with them, and obviously you need to do something while waiting AN HOUR AND A FUCKING HALF FOR THEM TO GET READY.

Goddamn it I'm frustrated.

- Mint.

The Catcher in the Rye.

B don't read this post until you read this book because I'm lending you this book to read and I don't want to spoil it for you.

I bought The Catcher in the Rye before flying home and began reading it on the flight to Alberta.

The reason I bought is book is because I saw a quote from it on tumblr:

"Anyway, I kept walking and walking up Fifth Avenue, without any tie on or anything. Then all of a sudden, something very spooky started happening. Every time I came to the end of a block and stepped off the goddam curb, I had this feeling that I'd never get to the other side of the street. I thought I'd just go down, down, down, and nobody'd ever see me again."

 I read this quote and thought to myself, "Well there's a cynical book if I ever did see one! And it's set in New York too!" I had to read it. So I put it on my list of books to read that I never end up reading (but am actually beginning to read).

I like books that have a hazy feeling, you know? A numb depression. A book that showcases what the world really is. How utterly sad and hopeless this world it.

I like it. It's like reading a rainy day.

Anyway, I bought it because I was scared about my flight. I mentioned the anxiety I was feeling about the whole airport/flying experience on here, and it was a real thing. I figured maybe a book would distract me. Especially since lately I've been so against using my phone or watching tv and things like that. Lately I've been wanting to look up, and be aware of my surroundings. I want to stop being absorbed by a screen.

I know a book absorbs you just the same, but you have to admit, it's a different type of absorption.

Anyway, I got this book, see? And it's a wonderful book.

I love how it's written. The first-person narration, I love it! I love how he swears (at parts it honestly could've been me writing it), and how negative he is.

But around the part where he's at the bar with old Luce, and Luce leaves even though Holden asks him to stay (he asks everyone to stay), and then Holden gets so drunk he can't see straight, is when I realized, oh no. This is another Perks.

With each sentence after, my heart broke a little and a little more, waiting to see how this bitterly sad tale would end.

By that time I had tied his brother's death and his classmate's death and Holden's hand and everything together, so I knew that his mind wasn't all sorted. I knew that he was struggling. I knew it was another fucking, Perks.

The part of the book where it explains the title, killed me. My heart ached.

The part where he gave his red hunting hat to his sister; the part where he saw "fuck you" in the school, in the school again, and at the museum; the part where Phoebe wanted to go with him; the part where they walked to the zoo on different sides of the sidewalk; the part where Phoebe rode the carousel; the part where she road it again; the part where she made Holden where his hat... it all killed me.

The second last chapter... it did me in really.

So now I'm here, depressed about the world again. Because it's all really hopeless. And innocence is being taken too young. And bad things happen to good people. And everyone's a phoney and why won't anyone just share a drink with Holden!?

Ughhhh, this book broke me and I feel sick from it.

I went on tumblr to see what the community thought of the book and SOO many people hated it! They hated Holden, they hated his goddamn hat, they just hated it. And I want to slap them! It's like someone making fun of one of your friends, it's like, do you WANT a black eye?

Fuck, this book man. Written in 1951, and still real as hell.

That kills me.

- Mint.

Owwwwwww.

Things and Junk.

I ended up completing my 3 day fast and now I am homeeee.

My dad ended up picking me up from the airport and hanging out with me for the day, and then I stayed with my mom and her friends that night, read my book while they went and saw their play, and drove home with them too.

It's so boring here though omg I miss my car so much. I'm literally STRANDED.

I ate sorta kinda bad for the first day of being back home, but not as bad as I normally eat when I come home. When I normally come home I eat EVERYTHING, like at once. And my stomach gets so big and round and I can't move and I feel disgusting but I eat more anyway because I am disgusting.

BUT! Mom was complaining about how she's fat so I suggested a three day detox just to help clean things out before Christmas comes and things get out of hand.

She was totally down, so that's what I did yesterday, today, and will do tomorrow.

It's a good idea for me because it helps me not get overwhelmed with all the food in the house because back home in Kelowna, I have no food so there's no reason to binge. Being around food, and not eating it for even just a couple days will help IMMENSELY.

So yesterday I had some olives, a spinach salad with like no dressing, and vegetable soup.

Today I've had nothing so far, and will have vegetable soup again for dinner. And tomorrow will probably be the same.

I'm going to try REALLY FUCKING HARD this Christmas not to overeat because I want to be in the 130's for the new year! I'M SO FUCKING CLOSE.

So I'm smoking to keep my metabolism up and because I normally have a few smokes in the day anyway, skipping breakfast because I don't even eat breakfast normally, trying to skip lunch or just have a light lunch, planning to have light dinners as well, and trying to get some exercise in.

I went for a walk with mom yesterday, am going to the mall with my brother tomorrow, and next week I'm going skating with the fam jam so that counts right!? More than I usually do...

ALSO, the week before new years, I'm going to do another detox to make sure I reach my goal!

I. CAN. DO. IT.

Know how I talk about how I only write because there's shit that pops in my head and the only way to get it out is to write it down? Well lately that's been happening with painting ideas.

So for my Christmas presents to like, everyone basically, I'm painting them something. And I've got some stellar ideas. ANDDDDD IF I END UP TAKING FINE ARTS IT'S GOING TO BE GOOD TO ADD TO MY PORTFOLIOOOO.

Yes, I've decided that I'm totally quitting psychology and am going to pursue writing, and just art in general. But the thing is, to get into writing courses you need to apply with a portfolio in January to get into September classes (usually). So I might end up taking a semester off.

In that semester I'm obviously going to work full time and I'm thinking that I could get my job back at the clothing store, get another job at a coffee shop (because I think that'd be fun), and then another job at night as a waitress.

I'd save save save for school and shit, BUT ALSO I WANNA GO TO OREGON THIS SUMMER FOR LIKE TWO WEEKS. I HAVE TOOOOOOOO.

Plus, having so many jobs and running around all the time as a waitress would really pay off weight wise. I wanna be skinny in summer and wear cute summer frocks and be all happy and skinny and ahhhhh!

My brother decided that he's moving to like, Burnaby this May and I'm so excited/jealous for him! He's turning a new leaf, finally getting out of the mess that is his life here, and he's actually going to start living! I'm so excited! AND SOOOO JEALOUS!

I want to move to the ocean so bad omg. Like, that's where I've wanted to live ever since we left when I was little! If I were to move to a city down there I'd definitely move to Victoria because there's less of an asian invasion down there LOL call me racist, I don't care. I just don't like feeling like a minority, alright?

Ugh, but I'll be stuck in Kelowna for at least another year because of my mom BUYING THAT STUPID APARTMENT. Whatever, whatever, it'll be fine. I'll get there eventually...

I think that's all I have to write right now! Yup yup!


♥,

Mint.

FUCKING PUMPKIN.

I AM LEGIT SOOOOOO FUCKING PISSED RIGHT NOWWWWW.

I WANT TO SMACK SOMEONE.

First off, made it through the day without food, so I'm going to spread my fast into tomorrow to get a 3 day fast happening. Fucking rightssssssss.

NOW TO THE ANGERRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

FUCKING PUMPKIN.

GOD DAMN FUCKING PUMPKIN.

She was supposed to pick me up at the airport tomorrow morning at 9.

She texts me about 12 hours before said pickup time saying that she won't be able to pick me up because it's "slushy".

WHO THE FUCK DOES THAT.

A) IT WON'T BE SLUSHY, THE HIGHWAY TO THE AIRPORT IS A MAJOR HIGHWAY PUMPKIN, IT'S GUN B CLEAR BITCH. PLUS IT HASN'T SNOWED THERE FOR LIKE A WEEK, I KNOW THESE THINGS.

B) I HAVE TO WAKE UP AT 5 MY TIME TO GET READY/GET THROUGH SECURITY/GET TO MY GATE. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH MY FUCKING LUGGAGE ON A GOD DAMN TRAIN IN EDMONTON GOING TO I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE AFRAID OF NON-EXISTANT SLUSH.

C) IF I WAIT FOR MY MOM TO PICK ME UP, I'LL BE WAITING AT THE AIRPORT FOR TWO HOURS. AND THERE'S NOTHING TO DO IN THE ARRIVAL WING OF THE AIRPORT.

D) I JUST FOUND OUT THAT THE HOTEL MY MOM'S STAYING IN THAT NIGHT WITH HER FRIENDS IS BOOKED AND THERE'S NOT ENOUGH BEDS FOR ME SO I WON'T HAVE A PLACE TO SLEEP, UNLESS I STAY AT PUMPKIN'S. WHICH I DON'T WANT TO NOW BECAUSE SHE'S A FUCKING BITCH LIKE FUCK HER, I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU WHORE.

E) I ALREADY HAD TO CHANGE MY FLIGHT TO FUCKING ACCOMMODATE THIS BITCH, AND NOW, 12 HOURS BEFORE SHE'S SUPPOSED TO PICK ME UP, SHE FUCKING BAILS.

WHAT A GOOD FUCKING FRIEND SHE IS.

I FUCKING SENT THE BITCH FLOWERS WHEN SHE BROKE UP WITH HER BF BECAUSE SHE FOUND OUT SHE WAS BEING CHEATED ON.

YES, I'M THE FRIEND WHO SENDS FLOWERS TO MY BROKEN FRIEND. BECAUSE PUMPKIN'S FRIENDS FUCKING KNEW THAT SHE WAS BEING CHEATED ON BUT THEY DIDN'T TELL HER BECAUSE THEY'RE ALSO SORTA FRIENDS WITH THE GUY. BUT LIKE SERIOUSLY, IF YOU EVER HEAR ABOUT ANYONE BEING CHEATED ON, FROM THE FUCKING PERSON WHO'S CHEATING, YOU TELL THE OTHER PERSON. IT'S THE HUMANE THING TO DO. LIKE FUCKKKK.

SO PUMPKIN, WTF. I'M A HELLA AWESOME FRIEND. WHY THE HELL DO YOU FUCKING SUCKKKKKK SO GOD DAMN MUCHHHHHHH.

I FUCKING HATE YOU

I HATE YOU

I HATE YOU

YOU NEVER GIVE ME ADVICE, I NEVER FEEL LIKE "OMG I NEED TO TELL PUMPKIN THIS", YOU TALK SHIT ABOUT ME WHEN YOU SUDDENLY GET MAD AT ME FOR NO REASON, YOU TELL EVERYONE MY LIFE STORY "BECAUSE I DIDN'T TELL YOU NOT TO", YOU'RE DUMB AS ALL HELLLLLLLLL, AND YOU BLAME THINGS ON ME (LIKE YOUR FUCKING SMOKES-- HAVE SOME GOD DAMN BALLS).

I HATE YOU
I HATE YOU
I HATE YOU

ROT IN HELL YOU SLUT.

FRIENDS OFF.

- MINT.

Making time go by.

The first thing I've put into my body since yesterday is this glass of tap water...

And it's not even today anymore, it's tomorrow.

If I wait until about 3 pm tomorrow (today? Fuck.) I'll have accidentally done a two day fast.

That's interesting.

- Mint.

Another post.

I'm actually incredibly angry about my hair right now.

It's so blunt and stupid looking.

I don't want full bangs.

And she didn't even do the roots WHICH IS WHY I WENT THERE. She did the highlights' roots, but not the sun in roots. SO IT LOOKS LIKE I DIDN'T EVEN GET IT FIXED AT ALL.

AND IT WAS SO EXPENSIVE

AND I HAVE NO MONEY

I DON'T EVEN HAVE A JOB

AND SHE RUINED MY LIFE

I MISS MY HAIR

WHY DID SHE HAVE TO CUT IT SO MUCH

WHY DID SHE MAKE IT BLUNT

I TOLD HER NOT TO

I TOLD HER NOT TO

I TOLD HER NOT TO



THIS IS THE STRAW.

- Mint.

I'm sad for all sorts of clouded reasons, but the death of my hair is the main one.

I got my hair done yesterday and she cut off sooooo much. And I told her not to. And she made the bottom blunt. And I SPECIFICALLY TOLD HER NOT TO.

And I want to cry because my hair doesn't grow very fast, it just falls out, that's all it does.

I don't care if my ends look gross, FYI THEY DIDN'T. I just want the inch and a half, that took 4 months to produce, BACK.

I wanna cry I wanna cry I wanna cryyyyy.

I wish I didn't get front bangs again. I like my old hair. I liked it last year when I had short layers and full side-swept choppy bangs.

Ugh. Thank god I have my hat.

To me, my hat is like being able to wear my pjs outside, or bring my teddy bear everywhere with me. It's a comfortable security.

Yesterday, after the hair cut (so about 1), I came home and I don't even know what I did until 6. But once 6 came, and it was pitch black outside. I decided to go to sleep.

It took a little while to fall asleep, and I did wake up a couple times between then and morning, but I ended up sleeping until 10 am.

And I'm still fucking tired, and empty and I want to go home.

And once I go home, I want to walk. For years.

I want to walk and smoke and walk and smoke and walk and smoke, until I get lost and I die.

... get lost and die get lost and die get lost and die and die and die die die...

Also, I've been crying lately. Which is odd, because I rarely get to cry now, tears just don't come. Which is even more odd because I'm constantly on the edge of tears.

I usually cry while trying to fall asleep. I think I cry because of the emptiness and the hopelessness I feel is life. I don't really know.

But it's an odd cry. Very concentrated. I'll have about 6 MASSIVE tears in total. And each tear comes with a monstrous sob.

After about a minute and a half, my crying is over. And I usually feel like I've cried out all the water my body contained, and my head pounds with agreement.

It's a weird cry for sure.

I don't know what I'm going to do about life.

I hate it.

- Mint.

YELLING DOESN'T MEAN I'M ANGRY.

Today I bought trail mix and now I'm really grossly full.

Bleh.

I couldn't fall asleep again last night. But I eventually got there (obviously).

It took me two hours to shower and make myself look like a person today.

Went to costco with the roomie because she needed milk, two GIANT things of cereal, yogurt, and tortilla chips.

(That's when I got the trail mix)

Whilst driving through the parking lot of costco (feeling very anxious and frustrated because I didn't want to be there, and I think costco is disgusting because it's filled with people tasting things they already eat normally, buying things just because it's cheaper, and buying more because it's in bulk.

I seriously think it's the most disgusting shopping place I've ever been too and the carts are way too big, and everything is way too big. And only idiots shop there and they don't know how to keep their GIANT ASS CARTS OUT OF THE WAY, and they hover around taste tester stands while a soulless employee makes a living off of spreading hummus on crackers. Creeps me right out) I realized what bothers me about my roomie.

Other than the fact that she's negative as fuck, thinks she's the shit when she's actually so uncultured it's hilarious, hoards ALL the dishes in the dishwasher (why does one person use a dishwasher?), and thinks tv shows about POOLS are entertaining, what bothers me is that she doesn't like when I bubble up.

Whether it's me being highly excited and jumpy, frustrated and yelly, or surprised and high voiced, SHE ALWAYSSSSSS KILLS MY SPARK.

"Okay, calmmmm down now."

EXCUSE YOU, HOW ABOUT YOUUUUUU SHOW SOME SORT OF EMOTION OTHER THAN EXTREME SNOBBINESS.

Whenever anyone thinks that I'm legit angry or surprised or whatever when I yell/go high voice, REALLY NEEDS TO STOP.

I JUST YELL OKAY. I AM EXPRESSIVE. AND LOUD.

If you tell me to calm, I shrink into nothing and want to kill myself, but most of all, it makes me want to kill you, you ignorant slut.

Dumb people.

Putting out others' sparks.

- Mint.

The cowardly lion.

I realized that I might have an anxiety problem.

LOL SHUSH, DON'T EVEN, I JUST REALIZED IT OKAY.

But seriously, everything's scary. Buying groceries, going downstairs to the parking garage, looking out my own window. Omg I have to go to the airport next week, and then FLY.

Like, I'm not afraid of flying but today I was thinking about it and my body just got really tight and my heart started beating fast.

I'm socially anxious, and I'm too scared to go to school.

Tonight I was invited by my boring friend to come decorate her and her roomies' Christmas tree. It would be the three roomies, my other boring friend, and boring friend #1's old ass boyfriend, and then the boyfriend's friends.

I knew I should go, I've bailed on her too much lately. But I just... couldn't.

I'm scaredddddd

I haven't met anyone new in so long, I haven't hung out with my boring friends in so long. Don't they realize that I need to ease into it again? Don't they realize that even a coffee date would be a great accomplishment?

It's an annoying realization but yeah, I'm afraid of the unexpected; I'm afraid of the world.

It's not like this is the first time anxiety has taken control either. Thinking back I've dealt with it for years. And it's obvious, I know, but I'm just accepting it now, sorry.

"You Fast

Is avoidance

really control?"

That's a poem that popped in my head one night and wouldn't leave until I wrote it down. I was too tired to turn on the light and grab my journal (it was 3 in the morning again and I had already written so much that day) so I grabbed my pen and wrote it quickly on my stomach.

I had no idea if the pen was writing or if it was writing whether or not one could actually read it.

It was really hard to decipher in the morning but obviously I did it.

"Is avoidance really control?"

I'm such a control freak and my mom has always told me so. But I never really notice it until she tries to cook something for me, or make my coffee. Or simply do anything for me at all.

One time I critiqued her so much whilst she was making a stir fry that she just quit halfway through.

Whenever I go to a restaurant I always change at least one part of what I order (no fries, no chicken, this sauce instead, this on the side), and you all know about my control issues with Subway. Driving for me is an issue as well. If someone else is driving, I'm really on edge and uncomfortable. I can't even imagine riding a bus.

I didn't think I had anxiety problems because I kept everything in order. So if everything was in order, then nothing bad happened.

Does that mean you don't have anxiety? You've managed to gain control of every single thing in your life. Is this avoidance, or just being organized and particular?

Don't even kid yourself. As soon as you think that veggie burger is a real burger because it tastes too good, the moment you have to actually wait in line at the checkout, the moment the person at Subway doesn't realize just what, "a lot of green peppers" means. Shit gets cray.

Controlling every aspect of your life is not control. It's avoidance. But becoming flexible to change and generally becoming okay with it, is.

Until that happens (if that ever happens) I'll just be over here, freaking out about everything.
Sometimes nothing even.
But isn't every big problem of mine actually "nothing"?

People are asking me how I'm doing, if things are getting better...
They're suggesting that maybe I talk to someone about everything I'm afraid of.
I think it's funny. Because this year compared to the last, or the one before that... is going simply peachy.
It's a dream.

- Mint.

The problem is that I fall in love too fast. The problem is that I don't know what love is.

I smoked some weed yesterday.

Before then, I have smoked weed 3 times.

Twice when I was 16, and once this past summer.

I've been high, once.

I'm such a n00b but whatever, deal.

The thing is, that when I actually got high that one time back in grade 10, it was legit so much fun, and I laughed so fucking much, and EVERYTHING WAS DELICIOUS.

This time, not so much.

I HAD THE MOST INTENSE PANIC ATTACK EVER. THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED AFTER I SMOKED A JOINT.

My heart felt like it was pounding out of my chest; it hurt so much. I couldn't sit still and I told Morgan that we had to go for a walk.

I put on my coat, and boots, and was ready to go, but she was taking sooooooo long.

I WAS FLIPPING SHIT.

I WAS SO SCARED. Like, if I didn't move, I seriously thought I was going to explode. So when she was getting ready I was just pacing up and down, up and down, up and down the hall.

She eventually got everything together and I like, RACED down the stairs. When we got outside, I was walking sooooo fucking fast omg. But it was cold and windy and sorta rainy so that helped sober me up a bit and calm me down.

We decided to go back to my place because it was cold, and I lit incense to try to calm myself, and ate pizza to try to make myself feel comfy, and watched Friends to make me laugh.

But the whole time after, if I stopped focusing and sort of just sat, I'd get one of those heart leaps I normally get every so often. BUT WAAAY WORSE. And then it'd scare me, and then my heart would start beating really fast again and I'd have to try to calm myself down once more too.

Today was no different really. I was hella anxious allll day. Really edgy, really needing to move and gogogogo. Much more than normal.

And it's really annoying, like, being afraid for sooooo long over NOTHING. Fuck me.

Today was also my last day of work! Last night (before the weed obviously) I made little candy bags for each employee I actually worked with/liked and gave them with a Christmas card in which I wrote a little note to each girl!

EVERYONE WENT BONKERS. They were soooo stoked on candy, but when they read the cards their hearts melted lol one girl cried. And I got like a million hugs today and it's nice to receive love from people you love but didn't know felt love for you in return.

SPEAKING OF LOVE (lul) I fell in love with this poet dude on tumblr LOL. OMG HE'S A SAGITTARIUS AND THAT'S MY MOST COMPATIBLE SIGN AND THE ONLY OTHER SAGITTARIUS I'VE EVER MET WAS THE GUY I MET IN FRANCE AND I SWEAR TO GOD HE'S MY SOULMATE. Anyway! This new guy, writes killerrrrrrrr poetry. It's amazing and I like and reblog basically all of his poems because they're THAT amazing.

It was his birthday a few days ago apparently (because someone wished him a happy birthday) and that's when I realized that he was a sagittarius and that's when I realized that I needed to befriend him.

Immediately.

And oooooomg I'm so happy I did. His words are seriously like honey and I wouldn't mind drowning in them.

He accepted my offered friendship and appreciated me telling him that leos and sagittariuses are supposed to have killer sex.

He had to go to sleep because he has to wake up in 3 hours, but we're going to talk again tomorrow and OM A NOM I LOVE ARTISTS.

I think that's the most consistent characteristic I've shown attraction for. Because honestly, any guy I've ever truly liked were all artists of sorts. Whether they write, or paint, or play guitar, or simply live an artistic life... I apparently find artists incredibly lovable lol.

My heart is too easy and gracious and gullible and big.

ALSO:

Kay: thank you so so SO much for your comment! No one understands how much I need to hear stories like that! I live in a world where creativity is meant to be a "hobby", and your career is just meant to supply moneymoneymoney. Because that's what you need, moneymoneymoney. But I mean, look at the stories written about dragons! They've killed hundreds in the past to add to their collection of gold and rubies and sapphires, but they do nothing with it! Because they really don't need it! I have to learn that life isn't meant for a set plan of: school, career, workworkwork, savesavesave, retire, live quietly, die. It's meant to live in the moment. It's meant to live for yourself! And if I want to follow a creative path, if that's what my soul is craving, I should fucking do it! It's just scary is all... Talent and inspiration... What if it goes? (anxietyanxietyanxiety)

Love you all! My heart has swollen with sunlight today! Yet is still infested with jitter bugs unfortunately.

- Mint.

Kay here's an actual legit blog post that won't suddenly turn into a poem.

The thing is,

I really wonder what would happen if I went into like, a fine arts program.

I'm not talented in art at all, like I can draw things, but it's HARD and painting is fucking difficult as fuck.

But lately my arms have been craving strokes, wide meaningful strokes.

My eyes are craving colour, and my mind is craving detail and freedom.

What would happen if I went to school solely to be creative?

How much would I grow? Like seriously.

I remember looking at my art work from grade 11 to grade 12 and seeming an immensely huge improvement.

Even my writing skills. I'll compare a poem I thought was good from last month, and one I felt was just as good from this month and think, "FUCK, this one is crap! But this one is AMAZINGGGG! I'm so AWESOMEEEEEEE"

Freedom.

What would happen?

I feel a talk with my mom popping up again...

Oh and my psychology courses from this semester? I've seriously dug my heels so hard into the ground on those ones. I physically can NOT continue.

My mind is a magician and I live in the clouds, and no one gets itttttttttttttttt.

- Mint.

This was supposed to be a blog post but apparently I wrote a poem.

I feel so small.

Like, the weight, of everything is crushing me back into the earth from which I have sprouted.

I stand up, and immediately want to sink into the floor; curl into a ball.

I'm trapped.

Yet through my cell's bars I can see the light, I really can.

But I've grown up in these walls. I've built these walls, with help, of course.

I've heard rumours upon rumours about the light. How dangerous it is, how it doesn't even exist.

It's something that we've created in our own minds and that's the only place where it exists.

But I can see,

Look, just there,

I can see people, in the light.

They're there, I see them, I really do.

How did they get there?

Did they start with their left foot, or right? Or maybe they started with a hop, or began, and then waited precisely for six minutes before actually going...?

...Six and a half?

If I stay here I'm safe, except for the crumbling ceiling...
Entirely my fault, of course.

But if I leave...

What will happen?
Where will I go?
What will I do?

How much will I fall...

How quickly will I fail?

I need the ocean.
She calls to me each night; the moon sending me her love.

I need the trees, and the sun that filters through them.
I need it.

But if I get out;
If I go to the edge of the world, I think I would run.

I'd run
and run
and run
and run.

I'd run until I became the wind.

And I'd soar so high,
With the birds.
Dancing among the clouds in the day,
Sleeping in blankets of stardust at night.

People from below would call up from the cages that they've built,
A voice cracked with curiosity,
"How did you get there? Tell me, left or right?"

But my soul would be too gilded with the sun's gracious gold,
To hear the cries from below.

My mind,
too far gone to be brought back down to earth.

I would be living in the light.
How do I get there?

Left,
then maybe...

A right?

- Mint.

You Fast

"Is avoidance,

really control?"

- Mint.

Happi~Happi~Happi

Today and yesterday were goooooood.

Yesterday I worked with the bitch that works at my work, AND SHE WAS NICEEEEEE.

I'm totally trying to kiss everyone's ass right now because I want to get my job back in January. So yeah, there's that.

I call it, "Mission: Get Mint's Job Back"; clever I know.

But basically, I told my boss that if someone doesn't work out, or if she likes me, or feels like being nice, she should hire me back :3 and I'm also telling all my work mates to just talk about me a TON when I'm gone. Talking about how awesome I am and how much they miss me.

ALSO, imma going to get EVERYONE Christmas cards and like a lil goodie bag thing, SO THEN EVERYONE WILL LOVE ME AND GET ME MY JOB BACK LUUUUL.

Like, it's the most boring job I've EVER had, but I la-la-loveeeee everyone who works there, and when there's a good day, it's a GOOD DAY. And also, I like not having to wear a uniform, I like that they give us candy sometimes, I like that I get money, and I like my discounttttt. But mostly I want my job back because I love the people.

So yeah, HOPEFULLY MY MISSION IS SUCCESSFUL.

I've been feeling MGMT a lot lately, just thought I'd throw that in hahaha

I'm SUPER excited to go Christmas shopping, and I REALLY wanna get more boots, and I'm REALLY wanting to get my finger tattoos.

I'm getting a sun and a moon in the inside of my left middle finger (to remember that the moon will set and the sun will rise, and tomorrow will come and you'll get through it), a yin yang symbol on the inside of my right ring finger (if you read my writing blog you'll have read about my yin yang realization regarding perfectionism), and a deer head silhouette with an infinity sign underneath on the outside of my right pinky (it symbolizes the song, Lover of the Light by Mumford and Sons which is my infinity song- like that feeling Charlie talks about in The Perks of Being a Wallflower- whenever I'm road tripping and that song comes on, I turn it up SUPER LOUD, and unroll all my windows and drive fast, and the feeling is magic. I love that song so much. It's so pure and like I LIKE WHAT IT STANDS FOR AND I RELATE TO IT BECAUSE SERIOUSLY, LIGHT FUCKING MESMERIZES ME AND ALL I WANT IN LIFE IS TO MAKE PEOPLE HAPPY; I WANNA BE EVERYONE'S SUNSHINE. And I feel like everything that that tattoo could mean, WOULD MEAN. So yeah, I'm pretty excited for that one in particular.

Last night I got drunk on the phone with B and it was fun, and then I really wanted to go out or hang out with someone. So I texted that guy that lives in the building next to mine but he was already out, so then I phoned my Toronto friend and I talked to him for like, TWO HOURS. In that time my neighbour got back home and invited me over to watch tv with him and his buddy, but by the time I replied and found that he was still up and I could still go over, it was like 3. And I worked in the morning so I said nooooo :( REGRETS. I wanna be his friend so bad!! Bahahaha he's so fucking chill, same with his friends!!

Today was good because sexy boys came into work and I was all SMITTENNNN. I love boys. And I love how when I'm in a good mood I'm all confident and talkative and not nervous and then they smile their cute boys smiles and I meltttttttt.

I want a boyfriend.

Fuck.

I'm excited to go out with Pumpkin when I fly back to Alberta! I miss her, and I love going out so it'll be a good timeeee!

I'm also excited to go out with Morgan this week too! BECAUSE ALL I WANT TO DO, HONESTLY, IS GO OUT AND DANCE. I WANNA DANCE SO BAD. I WANNA DANCE FOR FOREVER.

I've been in such a good mood the last few days BUT HAVE NO ONE TO SHARE IT WITH.

Omg, also, my roomie last night made cookies and I was so excited AND THEN SUDDENLY SHE LEFT AND SHE BROUGHT ALL THE COOKIES WITH HER. WHATTA BITCH, I'LL NEVER FORGIVE HER FOR WHAT SHE'S DONE.

COOKIE CUNT.

- Mint.

Frustrationssss.

Today was better.

I had a really good sleep, and my coffee this morning was AMAZE.

You know how sometimes your coffee is better than normal for some reason? Like everything's the same, but it's just better? IT WAS LIKE THAAAAT.

Work was boring, but it went relatively quickly and I got to have social interaction which I think helped.

I got home and made a really yum soup, and then really wanted gummy worms. And just sugar in general.

I talked the roomie into going to the fro-yo place, but it wasn't what I was wanting apparently because it didn't really make me happy.

I have to go buy some apples or something because I seriously crave soooo much sugar all the timeeeee.

ANYWAY, so I'm in a good mood and I want to GO FOR A WALK. BUT IT'S 10:30 AND IT'S COLD AND I HAVE NO FRIENDS.

DO YOU SEE THE ISSUE HERE? DO YOU SEE?

Fuck.

ALSO, earlier, when I wanted ice cream? I texted my boring friends (the pledge ones) saying, "ICE CREAM" and one didn't reply and the other replied with, "Lol."

Omg. Am I the only person who fucking GOES CRAZY WHEN PEOPLE REPLY LIKE THAT?

THE CAPITALIZATION OF THE FIRST L.
THE PERIOD AT THE END.
THE FACT THAT IT WASN'T ACTUALLY A REPLY.

WTF.

I FUCKING WANT TO MURDER HER.

HOW DID I GO FROM BEING HAPPY-GO-LUCKY, DREAMING OF ICE CREAM AND GUMMY WORMS, TO WANTING TO COMMIT A FELANY (IS THAT WHAT MURDER IS? I HAVE NO IDEA. IDEK WHAT A HOMICIDE IS).

THIS IS MY PERSONALITY. I SWEAR TO GOD. PEACEFUL FLAME, TO RAGING FIRE IN 0.5 SECONDS.

I don't get how people can be so TAME. AND BORING!?!?! Like, do you not have any passion? Is that the problem? FUCKING YELLLLLLL! FUCKING FLAIL YOUR ARMS ABOUT! DANCE! SING! SCREAM! WHISPERRRRRRRRR. CAPS LOCK. ADD A "BAHAHAHA" TO YOUR "HAHA"

LIKE.

FUCKING.

LIVE.

EXPERIENCE.

BE ALL OF YOU ALL THE TIME.

THAT'S WHAT I DON'T LIKE ABOUT PEOPLE. THEY'RE THEMSELVES ONLY IN FRONT OF CERTAN PEOPLE WHO MEET THEIR APPROVAL. WHY? THAT'S GAY. YOU MAKE YOURSELF SEEM SO DUMB AND PLAIN IN FRONT OF THE WORLD YOU KNOW.

ALSO.

SINCE I'M ALWAYS ON CASH AT WORK (OMG I'M STILL RAGING IN CAPS, SORry I'll calm it down here, deep breathe, in and out, OKAY LET'S GO) I deal with a lot of customers.

AND YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE, BELIEVEEEEE how many people like, aren't even people.

They come up to the till, and don't even acknowledge my PRESENCE. They assume I know what card they're flashing at me, WHEN THEY'RE FLASHING THE BACK OF THE CARD. BUT I MEAN REALLY, WHEN DOES ANY CASHIER NOT ASK HOW YOU'RE PAYING?

AND UM, PEOPLE DON'T EVEN SAY BYE. LIKE I THINK IT'S MORE AWKWARD NOT SAYING BYE THAN SAYING BYE.

RIGHT?

RIGHT???

I blame phones. People are so wrapped up in the internet they forget how to interact with actual people and like, be in the moment.

You know? YOU KNOW?! I don't know. I wish I had more friends. I really want to go for a walk....

I wish my dad was here, he'd go for a walk with me.

I'd say that I wish that my mom was here, but when we go for walks she gets all scared, AND whenever we go for walks together, it's like a MISSION. SO it's not that fun lolol

- Mint.

Hatred.

I hate myself so muchhhhh.

I'm going down, really really fast.

Built a fort and hid from the sunlight all day.

Actually cried. Multiple times. Which is big for me because I can never cry anymore.

I'm leaving for home on the 7th now. Was originally leaving on the 5th, was able to leave starting on the 3rd.

I'm not happy about that but, oh well I guess...

I just need to be home. NOW.

I don't know how I'll ever be able to live like an actual adult. I don't know how I'll ever be able to go places or meet people like actual humans.

I hate myself.

I hate life.

SO, SO, FUCKING MUCH.

I have nothing to say other than my heart is filled with hatred and I'm thinking of building a bigger fort in my closet because I don't want to sleep in my bed for some reason.

- Mint.

Fog and lists and words and punctuation.

Seeing my dad helped my anxiety this week.
Seeing my friends helped my anxiety this week.
Quitting my job helped my anxiety this week.

I realized that if I rid my life of what makes me anxious, then I won't be anxious.

So I quit my job. This makes me happy because I'll be able to go home for Christmas. And I'll be able to see my friends. And celebrate.

I'm happy because the main reason I'm broke is because I spend all my money at work, because I get a 50% discount.

So if I rid myself of dynamite, I won't earn money, and I won't lose money. And I won't be stressed because I'm late all the time. And I won't feel trapped.

I've decided that I hate feeling held down, you know? Like, driving around the city, I feel like I'm in a cage. I don't like having responsibilities of things to do. I want to do what I want to do whenever I want to do them.

I suppose that's pretty immature.

...

Ugh this fog in my headddd, I can't focus on anything. I can't accomplish anythingggg.

I feel like a vegetable. My mind might be going, but I can't do anything about it.

And I have no idea what to do to get rid of it.

But here's a list of good things:

• I like my hat because it's like wearing pjs in public, or having my teddy with me 24/7
• I like the tattoos I'm planning on getting
• My sweater smells really good and I wish I knew what perfume this is... maybe it's my mom's? Idk.
• I like writing, a lot a lot. And I'm glad that I actually do it. There's a lot of things I like but don't do, so I'm glad I actually write.
• I like the new notebook I got when I was home
• I love my teddy
• I get to go home I get to go home I get to go home
• I got to design the scarf layout at work last night and I had so much fun and I was so proud and the bitch at work was proud too and I decided that I like her and she showed everyone today my work and that made me happy.
•  
•  

I guess that's it. The worst parts about today is that I'm fat and hungry, no one reblogged or liked my poem (I USUALLY GET AT LEAST ONG NOTE, LIKE, I THOUGHT THIS WAS A GOOD POEM WTF), and I didn't get any school done because of the fogggggggg.

Um, if anyone knows how to go about being a writer of sorts, you should drop me a line because, I'd like to know.

- Mint.

Anxiety continued...

Omgggg I can't shake this anxietyyyy.

Earlier it started building and getting worse again so I decided to go for a drive.

I really needed to talk to someone but no one was available so I just drove by myself. Eventually I texted one of the pledges (they're sisters now since the pledge period finished today) to see if she wanted to drive around with me, but she was with our other pledge friend's house so she invited me there.

I decided to go just because I really wanted someone to talk to.

Not to talk about my problems, just... conversation.

So that helped a bit.

But now I'm back in my apartment. Back in my room. And the anxiety is back as well.

I hate it.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.

Holly Golightly: You know those days when you get the mean reds? 

Paul Varjak: The mean reds, you mean like the blues? 

Holly Golightly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long, you're just sad that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling? 

Paul Varjak: Sure. 

Holly Golightly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name! 

This is why I watch Breakfast at Tiffany's. It's because I relate to it so much. No, I'm not a call girl but I am lost as fuck. And I'm a no-name slob.

I try to act like everything is fine, and like I know exactly what I'm doing and where I'm going but I'm lost and I'm scared, and I need a place like Tiffany's to get rid of these mean reds.

I'm tired of being scareddddd...

- Mint.

Black outs and anxiety.

I got realllllllly drunk on Thursday.

Like, I remember getting to the club, buying a shot, buying a drink, talking to a guy at the bar about who knows what AND THAT'S IT.

Morgan and I got to the club at about 11:30, we left apparently at 1. I LASTED AN HOUR AND A HALF.

I guess within that hour and a half I got a tequila shot, a highball, another tequila shot, another highball, and a free tequila shot from the bartender.

Before I left the apartment I had about half of a 2/6 of tequila. FUCK.

Apparently the guy I was talking to was super nice and super sexy too (according to Morgan). FUCK.

I guess he called Morgan and I M&M and I started flipping shit, because that's what I call us! He must've been my soulmate I swear to god. And later on in that hour and a half he found me again and was super excited about it. FUCK. GOD DAMMIT DRUNK MINT, GET SOME NUMBERS, JEEEZ.

I apparently couldn't get on the stage either. Shit. And then when we were leaving I guess I ran into the back of Morgan's head like SUPER hard. I guess she had a goose egg from it! And that explains why my nose hurts super fucking bad, STILL.

I also got a shit ton of bruises and rolled my ankle.

AND, when we were coming back to the apartment, I ended up throwing up outside the building and the cabby had to help Morgan get me to my apartment.

Shit I'm embarrassing...

All day yesterday and today I've been have my mini panic attacks again. I call them mini panic attacks because it's not like, one major episode, it's just toned down a bit and last for days; it's horrible. Last night I couldn't sleep at all because I was so anxious; heart fluttering about.

Today at work was so bad too because I was oh sooooo dizzy. And my heart was oh soooo jumpy.

I decided to withdraw from the only course I'm taking on campus, because campus is too scary. I can't handle it.

I also decided that I'm quitting my job. That way I can go home for Christmas. My last Christmas, at the home I grew up in. I'll be able to see my friends. And I won't be so stressed about being late, and also losing more and more time for school.

ANYWAY, I know I'm so pathetic and weak but whatever I guess. I need isolation. And I know that isolation is probably the worst thing for me, but whatever, I don't care.

I don't care because everything is piling up and it's getting heavier and heavier on my chest. I can't breathe and I'm constantly on the brink of tears.

YET FOR THE LIFE OF ME I CAN'T CRY. The closest I can get to that feeling of release is through writing. And I've been writing a hell of a lot lately...

I can't look people in the eye again.

I have the urge to cut again.

I want to shrink until I disappear...

The world is just too much for me.

And I need to escape.

- Mint.

HERRO

Here's the link to my writing blog.

It's probably stupid to link my actual self to here, but whatever. I feel like a lot of my poems pass over people's heads because they don't get them, because they doesn't understand that they're about this world, this one here.

- Mint.

I don't even have problems.

To continue my lost friends post saga, today I learnt that one of my friends was raped while in Ecuador.

She was raped by her host brother and he took her virginity.

After that she got a new host family, but was really fucked up for a bit. Control issues, you know? She felt like she needed to be in control of things so she'd do things such as not lay down (so stand or sit) for weeks at a time, she would shower with her clothes on, and she slept with her new host brother on her own terms. Just so that she could be in control of as many situations as possible.

Today was the first time that she had told anyone about it, and the only reason she did was because she had a really realistic flashback about the event, which turned into an intense anxiety attack.

I guess she's been thinking about it a lot the last couple of weeks because it's Rape Awareness month or something so her mind has been digging up the old demons.

When she told me, I honestly didn't know what to say. Like, I've never been in that situation and can't even imagine being in that situation. It must have been so confusing and scary in the moment, followed by a mess of other emotions.

She was 17 when it happened so it's been 2 years since the incident.

The other girl we were with was talking about her own major depression and how she had to take medication for it, and apparently she had an eating disorder too (she didn't go into much detail because I guess she had already talked about it before I got there).

Then there's me.

I've had nothing fucking bad happen to me. I live in this perfect bubble apparently where I create my own tragedies and I'm just pathetic really.

These people are going to class, doing well,  and are still in the sorority. They're succeeding and living even though they've experienced terrible things. They've seen true darkness so what have I been complaining about these last couple years?

Nothing, because I have no real problems. "Oh no, the dad I'm not even close to remarried!" "Oh no, my brother is getting loads of attention because he's 'suicidal'!" "Oh no, I'm fat! So I fast!" "Oh no I'm hungry, so I binge!" "Oh no I'm fatttttt!" "Oh no, I'm sad because I have no friends because I don't go outside!" "Oh no everyone hates me, mind as well cut myself!"

I'm fucking pathetic.

Everyone around me is dealing with real issues, and are doing just fine. What's my excuse?

"I can't focus."

Oh no, poor fucking little princess.

I'm so FUCKING self-centered, I mean look at where this post has gone! My friend got raped and I'm talking about myself. So pathetic. So disgusting.

I just wish that I could make everyone happy, and better. I wish I could erase the bad and replace it with good.

I wish I could do something. But I can't. Nothing I'm trying is working and I can't help anyone...

So useless.

- Mint.

I think I explained what I wanted to explain.

I'm fuelled by fire and my flame is ever changing.

I wish I could paint what I'm trying to explain, or at least use hand actions, but I will try my best to express meaning through words.

My friends are lost, and hurting. All of them I feel, are longing for the days where life wasn't so complicated. Where pinky promises were an unbreakable vow; where you knew what you wanted to be and saw no flaw in your plan; where everyone you cared about were in one, tiny little town; and where when you jumped, you ended up flying.

My friends are lost and scared and my heart goes out to them. My tea-light candle flame turns in with empathy, and flicks up with hope.

"I'll help them! I'll help them and I'll show them the light and they'll be happy and feel good and I'll feel oh so good with them!"

So I hike up my advice pants and lay it on them. I give them every word I've got. Every metaphor and simile, every pure thought I have in my head, I give.

But they turn away as if they hadn't heard a thing and my flame shrinks in the bitter cold.

The problem with being a generous soul.

"But they're tortured!" I think, "They're sad and tortured and their minds are corrupt with feelings of grief! Their walls are up, and the curtains are drawn. I just have to break through! I can break through to them!" my flame burns brighter, and dances on the wick with newly found optimism and determination as I try again.

I try and I try and I try again.

Words, words, words.

(Maybe there's a lesson here?)

And I begin to feel frantic. My flame is beginning to creep away, slowly losing control. I'm here, I'm there. I'm putting these words with those words. I'm distraught with continued trial and errors; desperately trying to solve the puzzle.

No one is listening and my flame is burning like the firebox of a freight train accelerating towards an unfinished track.

Hope, hope, hope. You can do it, you can do it, you can do it. Break. Through. The walls.

But again, nothing.

My flame calms in realization, but immediately after turns into hell fire.

MY PASSION IS ROARING AND I WANT THEM TO HEAR WHAT I HAVE TO SAY.

I WANT THEM TO LISTEN.

I WANT THEM TO GET BETTER.

WHY CAN'T THEY SEE HOW LUCKY THEY ARE TO HAVE SOMEONE WHO CARES SO MUCH ABOUT THEM? HOW COME THEY DON'T REALIZE WHAT A BLESSING IT IS TO NOT BE ALONE?

LISTEN TO MY WORDS.

BE HAPPY.

LET YOUR HEART THAW.

My fire burns with intensity, passion, and love. I want to shake them or slap them in the face; slap them into reality.

You see, my heart, my flame, is soft and eager. It wants to warm everyone who's close, everyone who gathers 'round. I want to be your sunshine.

But they have placed me on a wick, in the corner of the room.

Out of sight, out of mind.

And there will be no one to notice,

No one around me,

When I burn,

Out.

- Mint.

Friend frustrationsssssss

Last night I wrote down some old rules and am going to reinstate them:

1. Monday= Fast day
2. Soup for dinner
3. Only meal is dinner
4. 2 bowls allowed max of vegetable soups (no creamed soups)
5. 2 eggs on toast allowed for dinner on weekends
6. Pickles okay for snacks

I've got like 2 months until New Years, AND I WANT TO BE BACK IN THE 130'S SO BADDDDDD.

Also, it seems that everyone around me lately is complaining like sooooo fucking much. And I'm trying so hard to make everything better for them. I'm making them cake, buying them coffee, buying them FUCKING FLOWERS FROM A PROVINCE AWAY, giving advice, like, GOOD advice left right and centtttt, reading scripts, checking up on them frequently to make sure they're okay, staying late at work to help tidy, and like FUCKKKKKKK NO ONE'S GOD DAMN LISTENING TO ME.

THEY'RE ALL WRAPPED UP SO DEEP IN THEIR SELF-PITY TO EVEN LISTEN TO THE WORDS I'M FUCKING SAYING.

It's like everything I'm doing is a waste.

I know that the point of being nice isn't to get recognition, but I mean, it'd be nice if they at least fucking LISTENED. I'm not a wall, sorry. You can't just vent to me and get nothing back in return. And when you get something back, OPEN IT UP AND BE LIKE, AH, HOW LOVELY. I HAVE A FRIEND WHO CARES ABOUT MY EXISTENCE. LUCKY ME.

FUCK.

- Mint.

I think I'm a good thinker.

I've decided that I'm in love with writing.

I love it, and I crave it and if I don't get to write frequently, it eventually just bubbles out into pages and pages of words and thoughts.

It's like singing to me now.

I remember in first year, I didn't sing for like a month because I knew that everyone living around me would be able to hear me.

But then one day I couldn't handle it anymore and I swear I sung for a week straight.

I need these things that badly.

My soul is addicted.

I decided to not drop out. But to take school veryyyyyyy slowlyyyyyyyyy.

Mostly because I thought of a killer research thingy that I could do for my masters or something:

   The other day my friend told me that he was taking a course that's all about time, and I laughed and asked what he learnt about in that class because I don't even think time exists. Puzzled, he asked why I didn't think time exists and I replied explaining how I feel like everything just cycles in a big circle (which has no beginning or end) like the big timekeeper itself (the clock). He thought I was crazy and explained how, no, time DOES exist and then explained how all of my cycle examples aren't actually cycles. 

    I said that I thought I was looking at it with a big picture perspective, and that he was looking at it with a detailed perspective. He said that, no, he was looking at it with science. Which was correct. I asked him why he was so close-minded and wondered what it would be like to discuss religion with him. He said that religion was different because I could believe what I believe and he could believe what he believes.

It's really hilarious because what we were discussing truly was religion. Not the classic, "I believe in this god" religion, but abstract religion for sure. I thought something and he thought something else. Really, neither can prove that the other is correct, or wrong. Because in reality, science doesn't know everything.

There is no way to tell that what we know is true. Sure, studies can show that we might be pretty close, or right... until it's proven wrong.

Just THINK about the universe, and how big it is. HOW DO WE KNOW THAT SHIT ISN'T ALL DIFFERENT SOMEWHERE ELSE? HOW DO WE KNOW THAT EVERYTHING WE KNOW NOW ISN'T JUST A HUGE CYCLE? HOW. DO. WE. KNOW.

So, since we don't know, this whole time existing, time not existing thing is really religion. Is there a god? Is there not a god?

But because it's not labeled in conversation as religion, people's true opinions aren't censored by political correctiveness. When labels dissipate, we can really see a person's core beliefs.

So as my master's or doctorate experiment/research thingy, I really want to explore this more to see how /if our society has really progressed as a whole. Do we really believe in equality and all that jazz? Or do we believe in it just because we are told to?

And since this is a social psychology experiment, I'm hoping to work with my most favourite professor ever! Paul Davies. He's super interesting and really hyped on coffee all the time so I think he'd be a good professor to get close to if I want to continue my degree. Which, right now anyway, I want to do. BECAUSE MY IDEA REALLY SOUNDS INTERESTING.

Anyway, I'm fat and that needs to be fixed.
And I'm also debating whether or not I should try to go vegan again.
I don't know.
I don't know anything!

- Mint.

I feel sick.

Omg I want to throw upppppp.

I just realized that when you "withdraw" from a course, you get no money back...

I've withdrawn from like... 5.

And accidentally failed one (didn't realize that the deadline was the 6th, not the 31st...) and failed the biopsych one.

Mom says that any course that isn't completed, I have to pay for myself...

Which means that I have to pay for like... SEVEN COURSES.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY THAT IS.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY I HAVE? ZERO. NONE. NADDA. I'M IN THE HOLE. BIG. A BIG, BIG HOLE.

Omg I feel sick.

I feel like I've completely ruined my entire life.

I want to get outtttttt....

- Mint.

Could I intrest you in living?

"I'M FRUSTRATED ABOUT LIFE
AND DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY WE AREN'T ASKED WHETHER OR NOT WE WANT TO PARTICIPATE BEFORE EMBARKING ON THIS HELL HOLE OF AN ADVENTURE"

A text I just sent to a friend.

Yes, I'm confused about life still. Yes it's time for another rant.

When I wrote the text above I stopped to think after about how one would ask another if they wanted to become living or not.

"How would you like to constantly learn, and experience things that are so real, emotions will bubble out of you?"

"How would you like to live on earth, forever?"

"How would you like to meet your soulmate?"

"How would you like to feel as happy as a clam and as free as a bird?"

"How would you like to breathe, just watching time pass by?"

I feel like depending on who's asking, the questions could be highly biased. And also, I feel like a lot of disclosures should be added:

*WARNING: many bubbling emotions are filled with self-hatred, frustration, bitterness, and hopelessness. Learning and experiencing may or may not make bubbling worse.

*WARNING: your particular soul may or may not feel like forever is WAY too long and will look for alternative ways to escape.

*WARNING: you may or may not know that said soulmate is your soulmate and you may or may not end up with them.

*WARNING: life is not always fun, free, or happy.

*WARNING: air may be toxic and time does not actually exist, HAVE FUN FUCKER.

I feel like if life was described to me how other people view life, I'd actually say yes. But, I'd like someone to describe my potential life to me instead, then I'd make a much better decision and have a much better, more positive outlook on life.

But I guess that's the point of life, not knowing. Who knows what's just around the corner? Who knows what tomorrow will bring? No one, and apparently that "unknown" is a thriller to some people. And others just accept it because they have to I suppose. BUT I HATE IT.

I WANT TO KNOW, I WANT TO KNOW, I WANT TO KNOW.

I want to know what path to take. I don't want to waste time. I don't want to make the wrong decision. I WANT TO DO WHAT I WAS BORN TO DO.

WHAT WAS I BORN TO DOOOOOO?

Right now, I've thrown out all my options. This always happens though. I cycle through my options quite frequently and always end up rejecting them all.

Death would be so much better. Just nothing but quiet forever. Eternal sleep, it'd be lovely.

You're supposed to live for the unknown, but right now, there is no future possibility that could make me want to stick around.

- Mint.

Here's another for the road.

Sorry, 4th post of the day.

I just went back to see where my head was at on this day last year, and the year before.

Suicide; interesting theme I've got going on here.

I suddenly really need to go home again.

Hi,

Sorry for the third post of the day, but I really just need to write things out.

It's okay to have thoughts in your head, but writing them seems to settle the soul, you know? As if putting them into print helps send the thoughts off; either out into space, or to the next step of its development.

So, I can't remember whether or not I've mentioned this but the children's literature class I'm currently enrolled in? I've never attended. And I tried so harddddd so attend it and everything! I'd go to campus early to make absolutely sure I wouldn't arrive late; I'd pump myself up with music and words of encouragement beforehand; I'd go to campus with a list of things to do before class so that the whole "class part" wouldn't seem like such a big deal, it'd just blend in; and I've even gone to school drunk to rid my anxieties.

Did any of those options work? Obviously not.

Quite frequently I'd make it to the campus parking lot, park, and then immediately turn the car back on and drive back home.

My mom asked me why this was and this is the best way to explain it:

When I'm on campus it's literally like I'm transported back to first year; and I'm not kidding. I feel like I'm a ghost. Caught in a limbo where I'm hovering between the past and present. I'm there, but not really. Because I'm not. I'm in the past, I'm in first year all over again. And it seems that wherever I go on campus, my old res building looms overhead like a death sentence.

It's an eery feeling because, like I said, I literally feel like I'm in limbo. I don't know if I'm crazy or what, but yeah, I feel it. And my memories while being on campus this year are quiet. Oddly still. Although my memories from first year are just as still and quiet, they are a lot darker. But that is because I really was a ghost back then; do any of you remember?

But the important thing to note here is that, I physically can't be on campus. It harbours much too much of something that drags me down (part of the reason I'm dropping out) and they're changing the campus too much. This creates even more anxiety. I feel like a tortured ghost who's spirit is trapped inside a house and all I can do for eternity is sit and watch people constantly touching and changing what doesn't belong to them. And I feel angry about it! 

 "This isn't right." 

 "This isn't right!"

 "THIS ISN'T RIGHT!" 

 The campus now has speed bumps, the table I used to spend all my time at in first year is now a two seater desk, the professors all have different offices, the library has a completely different layout, same with both of the campus cafeterias, the candy counter is completely different and doesn't even sell the chocolate bar I used to live off of, there's a mini cafeteria in the engineering building, and the fine arts building is now called the critical creative studies building.

And then I'm there, stuck in limbo, screaming at the top of my lungs, and no one can even hear me, because I'm not even there. No one sees it the way I see it, no one feels it the way I feel it. 

Cold, trapped, quiet, with an engulfing anger of hopelessness and frustration. 

That's why I can't be on that campus. It devours me whole, and it's really scary...

I just wanted to write that out. Thanks.

- Mint.

First successful purge.

I've decided that food coming out looks much better than food come up.

I'm exhausted from thinking.

Shit.

It's caught up with me again.

I went home, saw mom, talked to her about dropping out to pursue a more creative career path, she was okay with it as long as I fight for what I want, and now... I'm scared.

I feel like I've taken this huge running start towards a cliff, and then just before jumping, I dig my heels into the earth; now I'm just teetering.

Should I actually drop out? What will I actually do with my life? Will I be satisfied?

I told my mom that my main destination is to be a creative director, but if a different opportunity comes up, or my interest is sparked elsewhere, I'll follow that path. I told her that my goal is just to move forward in life.

But is this a good decision?

WHAT DOES A CREATIVE DIRECTOR EVEN DO. HOW DO YOU BECOME ONE. DO I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES. WILL IT KEEP ME INTERESTED, AND PASSIONATE?

So then my head automatically weighs in the other options, same old record, same old tune:

• Chef: I'm a vegetarian. It's hot in the kitchen. Only fun when you're not in a dead-end restaurant job. FAT. FAT. FAT.
• Baker: Repetitive. Only fun when in a classy bakery without creepy old bakers. Takes a lot of muscle. Hard to stay in business. FAT. FAT. FAT.
• Cake decorator: Repetitive. Fad. Creepy old bakers. I'm slow as fuck. FAT. FAT. FAT.
• Writer: LUUUUUUL. I'd have to have ideas of things to write.
• Photographer: I'm not one anymore.
•  
•  
•  

And I worry a lot about my brain. Like, I'm a smart girl, and I'm worried that if I don't exercise my mind properly, I'll lose it. I'm already sooo bad at math now, and I'm worried that if I go into a non-accademic career, my mind will get bored and will eventually want to return to academics.

BUT EVEN THOUGH PSYCH IS SO INTERESTING, I'M WORRIED THAT THE ACTUAL JOB WILL BORE ME. It's repetitive! Especially if I specialize.

Like, someone will come in with a problem and I try to help them. But you can only ever get better if you want to get better. So I'm really just a guide. Also, the problems will eventually begin to overlap and like, IDK. I want a career where I'm doing something all the time. I don't want to just sit the entire day, counting down every hour, minute, second...

That's why I thought the fashion industry and more specifically, being a creative director would be meant for me. Everything's new, you're always going, always creating.

But now I'm worried. A creative director doesn't actually create things with their own two hands. They come up with the ideas and oversee everyone to make their vision come true. BUT I WANT TO BE MAKING SHIT. LIKE I WANT TO MAKE SOMETHING AND BE LIKE, YEEEE BITCHES, THAT'S MY DOING, LOOK HOW AMAZING I AM.

Fuck... my head wants to go back into cake decorating now. Or baking. Or cooking. Or becoming a pastry chef.

SHITTTTTTT. WHY IS MY HEAD SO INDECISIVE.

WHY IS MY HEAD SO PASSIONATE. WHY IS MY HEART SO FAST.

Ugh. I need some major help.

- Mint.

Home is wherever I'm with youuuuu~.

I get to go home on Saturday nightttttt

And today's already Thursdaaaaaaaaay

And I get to go out tonighttttttt!

And I'm losing weightttttttt!

And I even got to eat trail mixxxxxx!

WAH WAH WAHHHHHH

When I go home I'm going to talk to my mom about dropping out.

I really just want to work. Try to get into visual at work (so choosing what the mannequins wear, deciding which clothes go where, etccccccc. I think it'd count as design experience lol), maybe get a second job as a cake decorator if I can't get full-time hours at work.

I DON'T KNOW. I just really want to create, and work, and make money.

All I know is that, right now, I realllllllly don't want to do school work. And like, yeah. I just want to work work!

I have today off (because I have class that I never go to) and I want to go to work sooooo badddddd.

I have nothing else to say really lol I'm excited to see my dog soon, I want to drop out of school, and I'm losing weight while eating pizza. WHO WOULDA THOUGHT.

I'm almost at my old starting weight again! HOLLAAAA

- Mint.