there are times in our lives where we feel like we'll never achieve peace. you may go through a bad breakup or you might lose your best friend. in each of these circumstances we learn to overcome our fear and our insecurities, even if it's temporary. we get over whatever it is that throws us into turmoil and we move on, but a part of us, the part that will forever be attached to that moment, is forever lost to us. this is why we cannot achieve peace. not until we exorcise the parts of us that want to remain in the struggle.

i just got over my struggle tonight. it was freeing, and a little sad. but i feel that i've finally had enough time to process everything. i have achieved peace.

i've always been a shy kid-- i never really went out of my comfort zone. i dabbled in drugs, but not to the point where i really let myself go. i think part of me was always terrified of being out of control and subconsciously i always prevented anything truly spontaneous from happening. being shy allowed me to control who i talked to, when, and why. i'm truly not a shy person, it was just easier to be shy than to be out of control.

i remember the first time i truly lost control. it was my second trip to new york. i had a friend there and she struck me as a wild child. i'd never smoked so much weed in my life as i did when i spent time in NYC. we lavished in the bohemian lifestyles only a true new yorker could achieve-- the rest of us would just seem like idiots making faces in front of a two-way mirror. i'd never felt such controlled spontaneity, the cavalier jumbled up with the respectful. i was my own version of john kerouac charting the sea of indifference in the land of the overzealous in the city of decadence and peasantry.
we were at a bar on long island with a rote irish name and darts. she and her boyfriend were fighting for whatever reason so i went outside to avoid the unnecessary murder of my vibe. her boyfriend's friend was there-- a constant companion on that sweaty august night. i think we'd gone on a date beforehand since my friend had to attend a wedding with her boyfriend-- the details of the night are hazy and unbelievable like from a dream i used to have. i sat on his lap. i never made any kind of move on anyone before and i was just grabbing life by the balls and i was doing it because i was a foreigner in a foreign place, obscured by my simultaneous anonymity and allured by my presence. he was nothing i wanted but everything i wanted in that second.
the sex was forgettable, i lament.
but i'd never felt so free, so purely driven by my desires and my emotions that i didn't stop to think of the consequences. that perhaps i'd fall a bit for this person. i didn't care for the fallout because there would be none if you burned hot enough. so i did.

it was an expensive time. new york is not cheap, and neither was new orleans for new years. i can't believe i went there and explored such an interesting city with such an uninteresting individual. but i was out of control. i was doing coke on weekends and dancing to michael jackson 5 stories up, listening to the sound of traffic while my heart kept rhythm. i was living some sort of dream because when i look back, i can see that i was happy. but sometimes all that glitters is just gold paint and that begins to chip after awhile. and boy, was i tacky cheap gold.

 the novelty of going to new york, having forgettable sex and mindless chatter and being strung along was to the point it was ridiculous. looking back now, you see all of the things that you missed because you were so set on doing the things you'd convinced yourself you needed to do.
i didn't have to end things-- a conveniently timed trip abroad altered things irreparably. not that there was really anything to break or fix. i think in my out of control mind i felt that there was something but i came to face some harsh realities that i didn't have a space in that world. i never had-- i was a novelty to show around, to entertain and then to forget about when i boarded a plane and left with my funny passport and silly coloured money. i was their distraction as much as they were mine, and i've learned this in the following years.

it's easy to see now, nearly 2 years ago, that i was balls to the wall out of control. everything i did screamed that i needed help but what help and from whom never came to my mind. i was doing things the way i had imagined my cooler self to do. i was a renegade, the type of spontaneous and adventurous person i read about in books and magazines. my youth was not misspent.

it's not about being in control or out of control. this binary is for me to contrast how insane everything i did was in comparison to how every single day aside from those 10 days in NYC were. how fucking insane my life became because i was attempting to be out of control for the first time in my life. it's a hard road to travel and i commend anyone who lives their lives this way. i however, require some semblance of structure to at least pretend to function. i just see for the first time since the event (i'm calling it the event because i'm unsure about what to call it aside from 'the giant clusterfuck') that the person that i was then was not me. it was a person i don't trust and don't like, a person who cares not for tomorrow or the next day. there is no groundwork for her, she just wakes up and does whatever she wants. she's a phony.

the real person has anxiety attacks when she smokes weed to the point where she's convinced she's dying. she ate a pot brownie the last time and didn't speak for 10hrs. she knew that everything had changed overnight, and from that moment forward she put on a happy face and pretended that she didn't know. she isn't the person that would have made the first move because that shit is scary.

i see this now. it's taken me nearly two years to finally come to grips with what the hell happened, and it took me seeing coney island on 'girls' to finally see that it's finally over. the anticipation of the feelings evoked from a certain thing or an image no longer applies-- i can say with a smile that yes, i've been there and i have done some crazy shit, but the girl who did that wasn't me. i moved on with my life; i was never pining for the affection i once had. i found someone that i adore and couldn't think of replacing. but i have replaced me. the girl who booked expensive trips because she wanted to now saves money for the trip she's always wanted. she doesn't smoke pot, or snort coke because she needs reality. she's had enough of make believe for a lifetime.

i can safely say that i might still be learning control, but at least i know now when i'm losing it.

b; old enough to know better; attached.
college student of historical events, future educator. canadienne. i like to read, but i don't do it enough. i run. i like zombies. i'm obsessed with all things batman, except not batfleck. i'm a terrible video game player, but i'm getting better through attrition. i can play piano pretty good, though. the sound of city streets soothes me, but i love the silence of the forest. curious stargazer.

hipster | tumbl | tweet tweet
lainey | tfln | afp
chubs |

there are times in our lives where we feel like we'll never achieve peace. you may go through a bad breakup or you might lose your best friend. in each of these circumstances we learn to overcome our fear and our insecurities, even if it's temporary. we get over whatever it is that throws us into turmoil and we move on, but a part of us, the part that will forever be attached to that moment, is forever lost to us. this is why we cannot achieve peace. not until we exorcise the parts of us that want to remain in the struggle.

i just got over my struggle tonight. it was freeing, and a little sad. but i feel that i've finally had enough time to process everything. i have achieved peace.

i've always been a shy kid-- i never really went out of my comfort zone. i dabbled in drugs, but not to the point where i really let myself go. i think part of me was always terrified of being out of control and subconsciously i always prevented anything truly spontaneous from happening. being shy allowed me to control who i talked to, when, and why. i'm truly not a shy person, it was just easier to be shy than to be out of control.

i remember the first time i truly lost control. it was my second trip to new york. i had a friend there and she struck me as a wild child. i'd never smoked so much weed in my life as i did when i spent time in NYC. we lavished in the bohemian lifestyles only a true new yorker could achieve-- the rest of us would just seem like idiots making faces in front of a two-way mirror. i'd never felt such controlled spontaneity, the cavalier jumbled up with the respectful. i was my own version of john kerouac charting the sea of indifference in the land of the overzealous in the city of decadence and peasantry.
we were at a bar on long island with a rote irish name and darts. she and her boyfriend were fighting for whatever reason so i went outside to avoid the unnecessary murder of my vibe. her boyfriend's friend was there-- a constant companion on that sweaty august night. i think we'd gone on a date beforehand since my friend had to attend a wedding with her boyfriend-- the details of the night are hazy and unbelievable like from a dream i used to have. i sat on his lap. i never made any kind of move on anyone before and i was just grabbing life by the balls and i was doing it because i was a foreigner in a foreign place, obscured by my simultaneous anonymity and allured by my presence. he was nothing i wanted but everything i wanted in that second.
the sex was forgettable, i lament.
but i'd never felt so free, so purely driven by my desires and my emotions that i didn't stop to think of the consequences. that perhaps i'd fall a bit for this person. i didn't care for the fallout because there would be none if you burned hot enough. so i did.

it was an expensive time. new york is not cheap, and neither was new orleans for new years. i can't believe i went there and explored such an interesting city with such an uninteresting individual. but i was out of control. i was doing coke on weekends and dancing to michael jackson 5 stories up, listening to the sound of traffic while my heart kept rhythm. i was living some sort of dream because when i look back, i can see that i was happy. but sometimes all that glitters is just gold paint and that begins to chip after awhile. and boy, was i tacky cheap gold.

 the novelty of going to new york, having forgettable sex and mindless chatter and being strung along was to the point it was ridiculous. looking back now, you see all of the things that you missed because you were so set on doing the things you'd convinced yourself you needed to do.
i didn't have to end things-- a conveniently timed trip abroad altered things irreparably. not that there was really anything to break or fix. i think in my out of control mind i felt that there was something but i came to face some harsh realities that i didn't have a space in that world. i never had-- i was a novelty to show around, to entertain and then to forget about when i boarded a plane and left with my funny passport and silly coloured money. i was their distraction as much as they were mine, and i've learned this in the following years.

it's easy to see now, nearly 2 years ago, that i was balls to the wall out of control. everything i did screamed that i needed help but what help and from whom never came to my mind. i was doing things the way i had imagined my cooler self to do. i was a renegade, the type of spontaneous and adventurous person i read about in books and magazines. my youth was not misspent.

it's not about being in control or out of control. this binary is for me to contrast how insane everything i did was in comparison to how every single day aside from those 10 days in NYC were. how fucking insane my life became because i was attempting to be out of control for the first time in my life. it's a hard road to travel and i commend anyone who lives their lives this way. i however, require some semblance of structure to at least pretend to function. i just see for the first time since the event (i'm calling it the event because i'm unsure about what to call it aside from 'the giant clusterfuck') that the person that i was then was not me. it was a person i don't trust and don't like, a person who cares not for tomorrow or the next day. there is no groundwork for her, she just wakes up and does whatever she wants. she's a phony.

the real person has anxiety attacks when she smokes weed to the point where she's convinced she's dying. she ate a pot brownie the last time and didn't speak for 10hrs. she knew that everything had changed overnight, and from that moment forward she put on a happy face and pretended that she didn't know. she isn't the person that would have made the first move because that shit is scary.

i see this now. it's taken me nearly two years to finally come to grips with what the hell happened, and it took me seeing coney island on 'girls' to finally see that it's finally over. the anticipation of the feelings evoked from a certain thing or an image no longer applies-- i can say with a smile that yes, i've been there and i have done some crazy shit, but the girl who did that wasn't me. i moved on with my life; i was never pining for the affection i once had. i found someone that i adore and couldn't think of replacing. but i have replaced me. the girl who booked expensive trips because she wanted to now saves money for the trip she's always wanted. she doesn't smoke pot, or snort coke because she needs reality. she's had enough of make believe for a lifetime.

i can safely say that i might still be learning control, but at least i know now when i'm losing it.