new york = life.

why can't LA be as easy to get around?

sometimes you find consolation and understanding in the most random of friends. people you wish you didnt know but realize you're absolutely grateful to be involved with. long live life. or something. maybe something else.

well... new york pizza. corona light. clubs with college ids. promoters who want your ass. free bottle service. musuem mile. pre-summer hook ups. uptown. east village. new amici. third avenue north. times square. getting id'd at the hard rock and nowhere else. LISA AND LEA. love.

so... thursday night i fell asleep in front of a fountain in south central at 330am after chugging profuse amounts of vodka at a party, dancing until my clothes were coming off, and being fed massive amounts of pb&j and water by scared phi psi fraternity boys. someone saw me sleeping there, called the police, and i was escorted home by them.

so... last night i fell asleep in front of sigma phi epsilon after taking a profuse amount of vodka shots, making out with a couple of boys, and celebrating the new year every half hour. a friend of mine finally found me, gave me a handful of cash, and called a cab for me.

i can usually write off nights like this because i'm usually very unhappy with life and because of what i've been through.

however, i am extremely happy right now. everything's finally going in an acceptable direction. i'm getting good grades. i'm getting shit done. i'm taking dance and theatre classes. i've got the most amazing friends. i've found a boy who actually respects me. i'm pretty happy.

but... i think... i may be an alcoholic. that's not ok.

I really feel like I don't deserve all this. I really feel so helpless, so unable to help myself or let anyone help me, that I often feel like I'm drowning. There are times when I can really see a black sea filling up my eyes and then my mind until I'm chained to a rock at the bottom reaching for daylight like it's some beautiful dream awaiting me centuries away. I feel so adrift and so weighed down at the same time, all the time.

I really think I'm a good person. I try so hard to be nice to everyone and I always succeed. It doesn't matter what you do to me. You can insult me. You can hit me. You can deny me what I deserve. You can tear my notes out of my book and throw them away and I won't be able to hurt you. I can't strike back. I can't allow anyone to feel pain like me.

I've got this hole. This emptiness that I can't fill. And I try, so hard, to fill it. I fill it with boys and booze and drugs and parties and friends. There's just this vast void where there was once intellect and passion and strength and an innocense. I'm still innocent. I'm still a little girl. There's something that's missing and until I find it again, I'm stuck. Stuck being a victim. Stuck being helpless. Stuck drowning and floating off into an abyss I can barely survive.

"What we were left with...

Booze
Smoking
Guilt

Shame"

Everyone likes to think that they are a strong person and when they give into their vices there's some real challenge there, there's something very intimidating keeping them from behaving the way they know they should, so it's ok to give in now and again.

I can freely admit that I am the weakest person I hope to ever meet. There's nothing stopping me from cleaning up my life. There's absolutely nothing, but my own weakness, to keep me from achieving all the things I think I want to achieve. I've quite smoking (OK, it's day 3... but you gotta start somewhere), but for entirely sad superficial reasons. I can't quit drinking. I can't quit hurting myself. I can't quit pining away for a man who uses me in the worst way possible. I can't control myself at parties. I can't not party. I can't go back to being vegan. And there's nothing stopping me. All I have to do is make up my mind, but I am just too damned pathetic.

There's decisions to be made, but I'm angry and confused and hurt and tired. All I want to do is be happy. But I'm too weak to allow myself to be. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAK brah, weak.