Hello again

I haven’t been very active, but the truth is that even with such space in time, it seems that there isn’t much to say. Even if I did say a lot, there is no more meaning in the word. I believe that the only time something impacts you so strongly should be kept to yourself. What’s more intimate than an actual real life journal to write in and express your thoughts? I haven’t written a poem since November. Not because I don’t care about poetry anymore, but because everything seems so damn cliche. A few months from now and it will just be a silly memory or another little thought and blog posted into the millions of people in cyberspace to browse through or not even see. Originality has never existed, but re-interpration lives. Everything is recycled from the past, and there is no doubt that something you are going to has been experienced or will be experienced by someone else at some point in time. I am not a pessimist nor an optimist anymore. I try to look at life as what it really is, although I do love to day dream of what ifs could haves and would haves. But I know reality now, and believe me in the past year I have suffered a lot, but not enough. I have suffered more than my peers who said I was rich and spoiled, I am dirt poor, living off someone else. I have dehumanized myself just for money and pretended to be a dumb pretty girl just to get extra tips to serve men their liquor. I feel as though I have been slowly desensitized and often miss the extreme emotions I would go through when I was younger. I am not sad nor am I happy. I am persevering and that’s what counts. People change all the time, yet I feel I am the same. I am trying to mature much faster than my friends who are years older than me.