elbisrever si cisum eht

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my name is demitria, i'm 21 years young and living in the 408, i like to be among friends, listen to music, be in the sun, dance, draw and write. i am an adventurer and a design junkie. i love my tumblr :]

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decrepito:

Yes No by Norma Markley

kgrrw:

It’s funny, how we all exalt romantic love, as if it’s some sort of pinnacle of human emotion. And it is, in some respects. It’s the manifestation of passion and the truest expression of the desires of our heart. But at the same time, love is dirty, compromising; it turns strong, independent people into fragile, needy children in constant want and desire. It strips us of our independence, and our happiness relies on the actions or lack thereof of another person when we act according to its influence. But maybe that’s why we revere and crave it so much. It allows us to externalize our affections, it gives us a person to live for. They say love is the breath of life. Maybe that’s true. But breath is never pure, and nor is love. We shouldn’t be afraid of seeing the downfalls of love; it doesn’t diminish the veracity nor intensity of it. In fact I think it just makes it more beautiful.

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With most of that, I’m inclined to agree. Although I am still absolutely sure that romantic love in a lasting sense is something i will always value, treasure, and strive to attain, the search s not as well-lit as it used to be, and the realism of success seems to slip… My relationships end in sad realization that dependency causes bitterness, disappointment, and worst, the stagnation of young aspiration; when 2 happy, healthy people are consumed by jealousy or the inactivity of comfort, my heart breaks…. And so, I take the responsibility to end it. I am left wondering if my standards are skewed and my expectations too high. Yet, I feel my own capability to love and maitain independence and motivation (and a decidedly trusting conscious, which is an involuntary disposition I am continually thankful for), made only sweeter by my ability to amplify that of a mate’s. So I still believe, but this time it might be a while before I allow another so close. And that’s all I have to say about that.

and also:

balance and moderation are everything. everything.

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and later that week:

Having a blog has always been weird.

Back in the dizzle, Xangana and Myspace taught me the way.

Then I Bloggered for a bit, until a scandalous situation arose; a girl i knew in highschool (and had been quite close with, actually) started copying my posts almost word-for-word (and sometimes word-for-word) and posting them in her own credit…Since then, everything I wrote became private. Everything I wrote that I deemed remotely valuable I’ve locked away until someone actually wants to see it. Nobody ever wants to see it because most people hate reading things. I really miss the Myspace Era because I met so many amazing writers to compare, compete and critique with. Here on Tumblr I am constantly at odds with my conscience for what will be publicated… Even though almost no one I know personally reads this blog (pretty sure nobody I know personally reads this blog ;]), I still have a hard time being totally honest in my anonymity and am still very protective of my writing pieces. It sucks.

I also don’t give out this blog’s address actively because honestly, there’s not a lot of cool shit here. I recently came across a very very mildly interested boy who, amazingly, has better taste in music than most people I know, and is in general a swell person. I was impressed that he immediately showed interest in my writing when I mentioned it, and I did eventually decide to go out on a limb and drop him my URL. He never read it. C’est La Vie. Honestly, its probably better off that way, because there’s not much extensive material here that would showcase any of my writing skill. It’s hard making this interesting or worth reading when I am constantly holding back “the good stuff.”

So what is it I do to solve this problem?

I stop being such a tight ass and give up some genuine effort and thought to the cybersphere?

I guess I’ll stop being such a little bitch about it :]

Let’s start wit that boy, actually. Boys are always a good place to start. We’ll call him Jack. Jack showed up in the smoke shop where I work some months ago. Honest, unimposing, an polite, he became the only customer who’s demeanor I’ve trusted enough in a first encounter to hook up with the number of a friend who sells herb. He invited me out once I think, in passing, and I diplomatically declined as I was seeing someone. A month passed, then two. I was single again. Again, a text message and in invitation. And this time, I took it. Being single or in a relationship has always been a point of indifference to me… as the type of person who requires very little emotional maintenance, I have few distinct feelings of ‘emptiness,’ or ‘completion’ in regards to a partner. Not that I do not love to be in love, but I’ve made a point to disallow my functionality to falter when either situation is current, something I wish I found in other people more often.

My last relationships ended sadly. One, after 2 years, devoled until I became his chore, a constant pressure on his time and energy. I do not seek to be those things for anyone. The second, after 6 months, I released when I began to see a slipping of self-motivation, a depenency growing that would eventually breed my resentment. That’s twice I’ve been the one to step back, twice I’ve been the one pursued and then saying goodbye.

So with Jack, I thought I would take a different approach. Instead of letting someone fall short of my expectations, I would initiate. I would invite him out, I would take him somewhere interesting, I would give him the option to stay or go.

Unfortunately for me, our rendezvous fell on one of the worst possible weeks of my recent life. I’d been sleeping for 2-4 hours for a week, eating terribly, and was so stressed I felt like my world was upside-down on a regular basis. And there was this beautiful boy in front of me, with plenty in common with me, and enough different interests to be a refreshingly interesting candidate for conversation. And i blew it. I was quiet, reserved, inarticulate and awkward. More than just feeling (and looking) like shit, I found myself stuck in a circle: why am I on a date with someone who wants to be single, when I can’t honestly say that I’m in a position to be a girlfriend who is going to inevitably become frustrated with the inabilities of my partner. Fuck.

Also, I think it freaked him out that I offered to pay for his ticket to the museum. x). To be fair he didn’t reject my offer very graciously. He also didn’t seem to be interested in much I had to say x) or maybe that’s just the butterfly-infused paranoia that always keeps me from being flirtatious with people I don’t know well.

In any case, I suppose it was a sufficient trial of what the rest of the world calls, “casual dating,” and a reconfirmation that I don’t well know how to do anything of the sort. Terrible, as I do very much miss having sex and I probably won’t get laid again for a long, long time ^_^. I also miss having someone to talk to; for all my close friends and good friends and endless acquaintences, I do not share my personal thoughts or opinions often; something I have generally reserved for the person who asks, and generally that person is the one I’m dating. *sigh.* Perhaps that’s an indication I should open upp to people more, but conversely it seems unnecessary most times. Fuck it, I guess. I have also reconfirmed that I prefer the play a traditional feminine part against a gentleman… I guess going equal parts on things is fine, but it’s not fun. It removes the excitement of being “taken out,” and the exciting changes in formality that goes with it. I don’t require huge romantic gestures but to have m coffee bought for me is really, really lovely. Anyway I guess it makes boys feel awkward when you buy them things x).

Don’t know where I was going with this one.

(via absentia)