Il · Giornale

I miss my friend.

Humanity is a falling tree in an empty forest.

You're just as irrational, unreasonable, stupid, mean-spirited, passionless, lazy and unmotivated, dependent, gullible, stagnant, boring, abusive, and morally bankrupt as I remember. At least you're consistent.

I just talked to my father for the first time in nearly three months. It's something I've been trying to avoid, not only because I didn't want to talk to him, but I figured he didn't want to talk to me. He didn't try to lecture me about God, or ask me why I hate his wife. He just talked to me about my band, and asked me how we're doing. And at the end, he just said, "Take care." Take care. In a tone that seemed to say, "In case we don't talk again for a long time."
For a little while, I felt like the divide was getting easier to handle. But three minutes of small talk just uprooted all the sadness that I was trying to get past. It's hard not having him in my life. I want him in my life. But not like this. I can't stand not knowing who he's going to be, or whether I can trust that he won't let some woman come between us like he always does. I would say that I miss him, but I'm not sure exactly who it is that I miss when I say that.
Contrary to what his wife says, I don't want to be "Daddy's Little Girl," and I have no intention of "tagging along with him all the time" (her words). I just want... I don't even know what I want. I'd say I want my father back, but he's been so many different people that I'm not even sure I can say that with any confidence either.
My father was supposed to be the one man I could trust with no questions asked. That's what he promised me. That's what a father is supposed to be to his daughter. I guess that's what I want more than anything else. A father I can trust. And now that I say it, I can't help but wonder if I ever had it in the first place.

I wish I could afford to walk around every day looking like I just raided Carrie Bradshaw's closet.

Thoughout my childhood and teenage years, and even well into my now half-over twenties, I always had a very distinct picture of what I wanted to do with my life, but never any clue as to who I wanted to be come. I had an idea as to the career I wanted to have, but never any plan to attain that career. I never put much thought into the concept of being self-reliant, independent, and responsible - not just financially, but emotionall, socially, and personally responsible. It's only now that I've started to form the vision of the person I want to be. But I can't deny the certain amount of apprehension that I feel in terms of embarking on such a journey.
I've spend a quarter of a century - easily a third of my life - relying on others for my well-being and blaming every external circumstance I could find for my unhappiness and shortcomings. I've put so much focus on the the things that happened in my childhood and my relationship with my father - things that were and are now completely out of my control, that I've let those things carve a path for even more bad habits and blame.
And now, overall, I'm unhappy. Not becaue of an unfortunate childhood. Not because of a less-than-desirable relationship with my father. Not because of the state of the economy or the injustices of the world (which, incidentally, have never hit me on any level that should leave a mark), not because of anyone's actions but my own. I'm here because I put myself here. I'm here because my vision of my future never before included the process of personal growth. I'm here because, in essence, I expected everything to come easily.
I've changed some things. But there are still some rather big shortcomings that I need to face and fix, and the path to the "me" that I want to become is still somewhat unclear. I know that I don't want to live at home with my mother forever. I know that I want to be happy, healthy (both physically and mentally), and self-reliant.
A while back, Randy had told me that he starts his days by asking two questions: What's good in my life? and What needs to be done? This is an exercise that Nathaniel Branden suggests. Shortly after Randy told me this, I began attempting it myself. It's only now that I realize that each answer I gave to the first question was an external circumstance. They each existed and relied solely on things that I had no control over, save the band and my relationship with Randy. And my answer to the second quistion was never certain or easy for me to attain. They seemed as if they should have been obvious answers, but for me, it would take everything I could muster up just to reach them. After a short while, I stopped asking myself those questions because I couldn't truly believe in the answers I gave.
I want to get to the point where I can answer both questions with honesty, conviction, certainty, and the knowledge that every answer I give is entirely within my control.

I've also realized that my deepest desire to have Randy love me stems in part from the fact that he is a reflection of all the things I want to become, and by loving me, he's somehow given me the permission to love myself. This is a responsibility that I can and will no longer place on him. He's not here to save me from myself. I do know that I want to love and want him the right way and for the right reasons. I've been lucky so far, but in turn, I've also been terribly unfair. And that is no way to love anyone.
By taking out my anger with myself on him, it's as though I'm punishing him for loving me, rather than appreciating the fact that he sees something in me that my anger doesn't allow me to see.

I'm not sure how to conclude all of this. I suppose no conclusion will come until I can feel a justified pride when I look mself in the mirror, and when I stand by the side of the very man whose image has shown me all the things I want to be.

There's this "girl group" called Millionaires. They suck. I want to punch them all in the face.

Name names.