The Long Ass Ride

I have like zero fucking time for anything. I bought that fucking book The Longest Ride and I have no time to read it. but at the same time it's a little basic. the thing is it's so vanilla I don't even know what to do with myself. I'm  but like something drew me to read this like some fucking cosmic pull dragged my black ass to read this vanilla ice cream cone that the media is making into a movie. 

But I am a sucker and a bit of a romantic so I bought this shit, and I am going to see the movie and watch Scott Eastwood ride bulls for like an hour and some change, Cause I mean look at that face, him and his fine ass in tight cow boy jeans. hmph...cowboy jeans...anyway so I've been working a lot and I am still broke because I need to pay people money and save for a car, because walking to work makes my legs hurt and i already spend all day on my feet bagging people's crap and looking into their dead eyes while I fumble along with ready make mac n cheese and Greek yogurt. just kidding all the customers are actually really sweet and they make me feel like I am a grocery angel.  Every body is so fucking nice to me. and I have been winked at by like a thousand old men which is weird but its cute because i mean their close to death might as well let them wink and give me compliments.even though I'd rather have Scott Eastwood wink at me.  Oh my god! but yeah I like my job, but sometimes I get this horrible crawling fear that I will end up working there until I die and that i have to do something really really great with my life so I can rub it in the face of my ex boyfriend and my ex friends from high school. that's petty right? yeah I know, I'm not perfect and I know for a fact that I'm not mature. I just don't want to work at a hinky store for the rest of my life. it's weird I have a bunch of dreams and aspirations and I force myself to work really hard.I did some financial aid paper work and I decided on going to Community college and then Transferring to a UC then hopefully I'll get real feedback on my writtings. If I actually have time to write. and all the free time I get I don't want to write because I'm working on third drafts of old stories that I'm tired of because I've tried to submit them and I want to give up. It's just a steady spiral into bullshit and writers block Oh and Since I used a Cinderella gif, I wanted to let everyone know I cant wait until it comes out on DVD so I can watch it on repeat and pray for my prince that doesn't smoke a lot, respects his mom and has a job. fingers crossed lol. God knows it didn't work last time.

Chapter 17: Hi, I'm Jade and I'm super fucking insecure.

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Hate is a Strong Word {But I Really Really Really Don't Like You}

you ever have those spurts in time where you just feel angry? like something amidst the happy, bubble gum, heavy metal, pastel, playground of your mind something , something terrible was awaken? stirred up from its peaceful slumber? i call her vira.and vira is 600 pounds of fur and malevolent anger that builds and builds and builds until she erupts in my mind and i become hateful and vengeful and i want to shit talk and fight and start political debates. these debates could be about anything. it could be a response to that cute Latino guy at work trying to compliment your work ethic but instead saying "there needs to be more independent black women like you out there." bumping down his attractive points because now he sounds like a fuckboy, because little does he know that America is full of beautiful strong "independent" black women. and if i am the only one you've talked to in the span of the time you've been alive you need to diversify your circle or read a book mother fucker. other times Vira is exceptionally agitated is when she is told to calm down or to stop being so aggressive. especially by family members who completely devalue the affect of sharing your emotions and the cathartic release of pent up frustration through word of mouth. while those same family members continue to lose their own struggle against mental health because they don't want to "bother" anyone with their feelings or they don't want to talk about it because "no one understands them." wallowing in the same emo proverbial bullshit that they have been entrenched in since their early twenties. sometimes i get irritated when people ask me why i like to wear makeup and make it seem like the good thing to do is to not wear it holding it above you like its some bullshit prize to be "naturally beautiful." i feel like people hide behind stigma of makeup being used to hide flaws and assimilate into western bullshit beauty standards much like how i occasionally straighten my hair, which should be no bodies mother fucking business why i straighten it or how often i do it and i shouldn't be demonized because i am expressing the versatility of beautiful black hair. i can do what ever the fuck i want. god blessed me with this hair so i can do what ever i so please. i could fry it dye it, i could get locs , i could get a weave,. is that any one else's business? NO. should they have a say in it? FUCK NO. if I wnt opinions on how i look mother fucker I'll ask, I don't do this for other people. i do this for me. I have to wake up and look at me in the morning. I am my star player. i'm the real mvp in my own life. I don't need the approval of others as pertaining to my aesthetics. I could shave my head bald Right fucking now just because and i would still see myself as a beautiful bitch, because it's true. and no one can take that from me. I'm tired of guys and their bullshit about hair and make up. it's like "I don't want to hear about how you feel about black lipstick nigga. I didn't buy it because you wanted it. I don't complain about your hair nuts don't talk about my false eyelashes. i want to feel like an anime princess right now step the fuck off ol' crusty ass nigga." I don't have time dude. I really don't. I'm not living my life for other people, I'm just including them on the journey they don't have to be there. this isn't a what makes them happy party. I don't care if i get called out for having tattoos or piercing my nose, having natural hair, having processed hair. everything seems to be a contest over whats better for you and whats mainstream and what you should be doing. that just leaves people pissed off empty and insecure. and i hate the phrase independent black woman because i feel like its disingenuous. they don't really think I'm any different for working hard, they don't respect me and my goals, and those same people are going to turn around and ask if its okay to say nigga. I'm not down for that shit, i feel like its patronizing. its like someone pinching your cheeks and going "well aren't you an independent little black woman you think you're going to make a change in a patriarchal white male society oh that's cute here's a cookie." as they slap your ass and call you a red bone. its all dog shit man.its like i ended up being a stereotype by trying to fight stereotypes and it make me sick.  it's all sick. the whole fucking thing. sometimes I get really sad, because people make me so angry it hurts and it's always people that you're cool with and close too. strangers dont piss me off as muck as the people I fuck with

Chapter 16: Broke ass sexual chocolate.

I sort of have a job, i am waiting for a call today from my future boss and i got an email from this company that wants me to proof read company emails and shit. they'll pay me like $50 bucks to do something that a computer can do by its self. but I'm not going to pass up free money. any way i have been thinking of doing stand up for a little bit because I have a bunch of fucked up stories of my life that I feel like I could share for shits and giggles. my hair is growing out and i want to shave the sides again because I want to be a badass; iItold a friend of mine that i was going to clean up the sides and she was like "Nooo don't shave it you'll look like a boy." and i was like BITCH! you act like I haven't been old i look like a dyke with long hair as well. either way I have my hair with theses fucking foot ball player shoulders that i have i'm going to look butch, its a fucking given, I've played sports all my life so I have a weird square body and a girly face. if anything I look like a gay man I don't need your approval to shave my head so i can look like storm from the X-men comics. but at the same time I don't own a set of clippers so I cant do it myself and there are no reputable black stylists in Tujunga. so i'm going to have to wait until I can buy a pair of clippers myself. but any way my Ex's mom set me up with this house sitting gig so i'm working three jobs like a Jamaican .but to be honest i have no idea what I am doing in life I'm just trying to save enough money so I can get my drivers licence and a car before the end of this year.I'm doing pretty well in the productivity sphere. and I have been working on my books so I can try to publish them again. the thing is sometimes I just don't feel inspired I feel like I have to write so people don't judge me for just sitting at home or going on walks. no one thinks I do enough of anything. I like writing but I feel like I am pressuring myself to publish so I can prove things to people. I keep hearing crap like my mom was talking to me one day about how her co-workers felt about me not going to college and I was like "are they going to pay my fuckin' tuition?" I'm not lazy and i'm not an idiot. I wasn't put in a position where everything would just be laid at my feet, I'm tired of feeling guilty that I'm not like everyone else. i mean at least i'm trying to go after one of my dreams instead of just going out and getting drunk or high or something like that. I mean the grossest thing I do is masterbate and that's fucking natural. I'm not like everyone else, this is my book my story my life. I don't want to feel like I'm spoiled because I'm not. I shop with my own money, the only thing I don't pay for is food and rent and like utilities and shit because I start working next week.by the time I start working then i'll pay for that but I want to be somebody and I want to rub it in people's faces. like no I didn't go to college, but i fucking made it anyway. it irks me because when I want to talk about my writing or my novels no one wants to listen to me, but I'm supposed to listen to everyone else when they want to talk about me going to art school or being a make up artist or going to community college. It still feels like my life isnt even mine, even though I'm supposed to take control over my life.

Chapter 15:Social Misfit.

So today I'd gotten ready for a date with a tinder match, turns out the distance between us hindered that date from happening, the thing is I have another date on Friday but I ran out of money online shopping like an asshole. and after that next weekend I will be visiting my estranged uncle who is now living somewhere in Santa Barbara with his wildly attractive life partner. I feel like i am dating myself right now, since i'm sitting at Starbucks nursing a water and trying to spy on this guy a few tables a head of me who is watching Tyler the Creator music videos. I had made eye contact with him more than twice so in my head that means "Take em down to flavor town." and there is a mildly homeless looking man staring at me , the cute guy is doing stretches , who the fuck does stretches at Starbucks, somebody who wants the Jade. he needs to hit on me right now i'm fucking serious . but anyway i'm sitting here waiting for the last minute cancellation so I can go about being a trollop. But in all seriousness my social anxiety is hoping that he doesn't show up so I can be left alone. And there is this old guy that looks like a beat up old version of my ex, hanging out with this Asian chick and it cracks me up because that's probably exactly what he's going to look like in the next 10-20 years if not now. but i'm sort of being a mischievous little shit right now smiling like an idiot because no one knows what I am doing and I'm sitting here blogging and cracking myself up in this cold ass Starbucks. All i could afford was a fucking chocolate cookie so now I have tummy bubbles . I'm so fucking worried about this date. I didn't drive to the Starbucks I walked so the whole leaving situation would be a little weird unless i wait a while after he leaves to leave. I drank my water and ate my cookie already,
I'm stressed the fuck out right now, and I have to pee. like what if he thinks I'm a scrub because I'm broke and I walked to the fucking date like a hippie douche. everything is so complicated. what would make things more complicated would be if he found my blog. but that's a different story. I don't think anyone i see in the future should ever see this to be honest. I mean it's this weird platform where all I do is talk shit about life and dating and my ex boyfriend, while I pretend to be a functioning member of society in my off time. I mean I'm not even a successful blogger I'm just a punk kid with a key board and too many opinions. this is all bad, but luckily it'll be a short date and he wont be staying long enough to figure out that i'm a carless weirdo. even though I'm very lazy and I don't really want to walk back home.the struggle is too fucking real for me right now. I'm super fucking anxious. this is what my ass gets for fucking with tinder. I could've waited until something happened organically instead of being a thirsty bitch. but noooooooo. any way he's supposed to show up in about 30 minutes because life likes to fuck with me all the time.

A Series of Fortunate and Unfortunate Events.

have you ever tried to do something; regardless of what it is and it keeps backfiring? like i was trying to get in contact with a local beauty school today because i had an appointment and every time i tried to cal in regards to that appointment my phone would either A) lose connection or B) whoever was on the other line wouldn't answer. so I did a brief amount of shopping bought a skirt & a couple tops trying to migrate into spring fashions and when i get home i try to call them again. I call a few times. they hang up. then they finally call me back and what happens? my phone loses signal. I'm sitting here like this is a divine sign from the deities not to go to this school. so I'm over here eating fucking mac n cheese like a ten year old talking to myself like what is the master plan? what is the end game? where is the universe trying to lead me? and what is the universe's deal with beauty schools? I mean shit i fucked up my senior year, it's easy and I wont have to go to community college, i wont be sitting on the couch being a slovenly little shit. what am I supposed to do? what career am I meant to pursue. I have been trying my hand in practically everything from house keeping to finiances and nothing is sticking. like I don't know what I want to do but I know the woman I want to become and I'm not going to become that bitch being the manager of a smart and final.I don't feel like I;ve found my nitch yet, all i feel like doing is making quick cash so i can blow off some steam at forever 21, in the shoe department. i feel really lost, and I've been too proud to admit it, I feel lost and afraid and worried about what i should do and where i should go. i keep trying to give my burdens to god and just enjoy the ride , but im so used to micromanaging i stress myself out. i feel like my whole life is this swaying in the balance of being stressed and excited all at the same time. I've put so much pressure on myself, pushing myself to succeed at anything and everything even if I don't care that much about it. and I'm worried because I started talking about going on a date or something with this one guy but I don't want him to see where I live because i'm in this shitty apartment complex in Sunland and i'm getting tired of people asking me what I do or where I go to school because none of my plans work out even though I've been actively looking for schools, scholarships, internships, volunteer programs. anything that'll give me some kind of purpose so i dont feel like one of those girls that has a catatonic breakdown after a break up. I mean like when Goat Man turned into the nameless one, i was looking for any excuse to leave and be dramatic and never return until i was like hot and successful like in a fucking Nicholas Sparks movie. but it seems liuke the holy most high has different plans because i'm still here in my home town not having any adventure being a trollop on tinder like it's a sport. I dont feel acomplished, I dont feel like I'm going anywhere after highschool. the sad thing is for me being a stripper is more likely going to happen than me owning a company because i cant make up my damn mind., Everything is all jumbled up and I'm confused and scared as per usual. The only thing that makes any real sense to me is writing but I'm not raking in J.K Rowling's type money right now and evryone around me makes me feel like the bum on the couch. Maybe I should just revel in what i know that I'm good at instead of trying to be someone & something that I'm not.

Chapter 15 :Batshit

It took me a while to understand that i was actually bat shit crazy. I mean who else would skip out on going to college to become a writer? who else would painstakingly create characters and dialogue and a reason for an imaginary world to exist? who else would remain hopelessly in love with someone who doesn't want them? who else would believe in horoscopes and tarot cards as well as the one true god? this girl right here. who else wants to go against the grain and change their family legacy?  if that means that i am crazy i want to stay this way. i would rather be crazy than weak and boring. I mean to everyone that's ever been called crazy or feels like they are nuts. even to the people who feel like they are too wild and too ridicluos to be loved or to have someone that's on the same wave length as them. I'm sorry to say this but you wont find them, ever. you will never find yourself in another human being. you will find parts of yourself, you will find someone similar. but you will never have someone match your intensity. you will meet people who are close enough or good enough but you'll never find another you. do not get disappointed when someone you like, love, or even related to tells you you;re out of control, or abnormal, or weird. you don't have to fight it you probably are being out of control at that moment. but know that you are still okay. you are still worth love and affection. you are working on it, you're getting better. Any one who tells you you arent better is an asshole and they can go fuck themselves if someone you care about leaves you or you have to leave them, neither of you is the villain or the hero. you are both neutral entities even if you did tell them that they were a hypocritical narcissistic sociopathological asshole. there are no bad guys and no good guys.there are people you agree with and disagree with. if you see it that way instead of like a marvel movie life will be smoother. feeling crazy isn't bad.it's not easy, its difficult, it'll make you want to stop living every time you feel out of control, but it's fun, and exciting, and when it's good its damn good.stop trying to be less insane. "seldom do well behaved women make history."