Can't Pay My Rent, 'Cause All My Money's Spent...

...but that's ok, 'cause I'm still fly.

I have been spending a ridiculous amount of money lately on things that promise to make me pretty and perfect, and none of them live up to their claims. No matter what I do, I still feel ugly. And I still feel hollow inside.
I am desperate to feel something other than ugly, and nothing I do makes me feel any better. I'm obsessed with my appearance and I'm sick of it. I'm sick of constantly looking at myself. I'm sick of feeling like I look like I feel. I spent over $800 this month on cosmetics, clothes, and various and sundry appliances to hide the way I feel and its really getting out of hand.
Everyone I talk to says the same thing. That I am pretty. This doesn't help. The boob job I'm saving up for won't help. The $200 hair extensions I'm saving up for won't help. Whitening my teeth, losing weight, tanning, new clothes, new shoes, plastic surgery, hair color, jewelry, a total fucking rebuild won't help. Because no matter what, I'm still me, and I'm still going to feel this way.

Hang on,
Ness

All My Love...

...is yours to waste.

Yesterday, I had the curious experience of laughing and crying at the same time. Crying and I are bitter enemies; in myself, I see it as a sign of weakness. Laughing is one of those things I do nearly as often as I breathe, because my life is so fucking funny. Sometimes it's a cosmic joke. Sometimes it's a punchline.
The problem with me is that love is always accompanied by pain. When I love, I love with every single cell, and that hurts sometimes. I'm still not sure why. So I laughed and cried and was ecstatically happy and in bitter pain at the same time. Damn confusing.
I have had the unbelievable honor of spending the past year with the most amazing man ever created. He's not perfect, but he's perfect for me and I am completely dumbfounded at this turn my life has taken. I must be the luckiest person alive. He makes everything that happened to me ok.

I hope every girl finds a guy like him.

Hang on,
Ness

One Year Later...

...and all I've got to show for it is a blog post.

Ok, that's not really true. I'm alive, I'm happier, I'm healthier now. I'm in a better place mentally. I got promoted. I bought a new car. I wrote some new songs, got some new stuff, and can honestly say, "I've been there" to my hurting friends. I grew up. I 'got better'. I made some new friends, had some new experiences, and met the love of my life who held me up when I wanted to fall down and made me see that there's more to life than just me.

In all, it's been a pretty good year. I'm very lucky. And to the ones who saved me, who held me, who led me, who taught me, who loved me,
Thank you so much. I will return the favor.

Hang on, because one day you'll be sitting where I am.
Ness

Ahdidnrkwifmdlaa)$8@+@)@8@+1)!%

I couldn't think of a title, so I just hit my phone a bunch of times and that's what came out.

I guess the only way to stop hurting is to forgive, right? But I'll never forget. I wish I could, but there's just no way. Maybe its better if I don't.
The thing is, every single fucking time I open myself up, I take off my oh-so-carefully built armor, I make myself vulnerable, however you want to say it; I get hurt. And I'm not talking about normal hurts that you can just slap a bandaid over and off you go. I mean the kind that stay with you forever. The kind that make you afraid, the kind that prove to you once and for all that you'll never be good enough.
I won't lie--I am one fucked-up individual. But its not fucking fair that this keeps happening to me. I don't know if everyone else is just weak, or if I attract people like this, or what; but let's get this straight once and fucking for all.
I. Am. A. Human. Being. I. Deserve. To. Be. Respected.
And if I'm not enough, then guess what--that's not my fault. I have done my best to be everything I can be. The rest is up to you...let's hope you can get it right next time. Because as soon as the words, "I love you" leave your face, you had better mean them.
Hang on,
Ness

All These Things I Hate...

...Revolve Around You.

For days, I haven't been eating or sleeping properly. I cant sleep because I'm sick and I'm hurt. I can't eat because somehow, this all comes back to me and if I were perfect, maybe this wouldn't keep happening to me.

All I want is to be enough. But I am never enough. There's always something wrong, something you can get elsewhere. I'm so tired of not being enough. It hurts. And I'm tired of hurting.
I'm afraid again. And I hurt so much. And I can't talk to anyone about it. And I'm never, never enough.
Sorry for being so cryptic. But like I said, I can't talk to anyone about it.

Hang on,
Ness

What Hurts The Most...

...is not being able to explain why or how much it hurts.

There are things I hate, and lots of them. Broken promises are at the top. The inability to thoroughly and effectively communicate a point is right below broken promises on my list.

I am deeply hurt, and I can't explain why.

This same thing that hurts me now has hurt me several times before, and every single time, I find myself unable to explain why it hurts me so badly. Which makes the original hurt that much worse. And the worst part of all is that I can't talk about it. To anyone.

When nobody knows, it feels like nobody cares. And every time this happens, I die a little inside. I just want it to stop, and now I understand that it never will.

Hang on,
Ness

Chevelle, among other things.

I haven't posted anything in awhile.

There's really nothing going on. I'm going see Chevelle soon, in a city I've never been to. That's exciting. I'm getting my ass whooped in Words With Friends. Sudoku is difficult for my brain to comprehend today. I'm cold. Sonar still remains in the realm of Astrophysics. I feel really stupid today. I'm pretty bored. I haven't been hungry for three days, so I haven't really eaten anything...maybe that's why I feel so stupid. Actually, most days, I feel like Celia Foote from The Help; unbelievably stupid and pretty much unwanted in any company besides that of my faithful and saintlike significant other.

I guess that's it.

Hang on,
Ness