10 resolutions I won't be making...

1. To stop talking shit about people. Everyone does it. Okay, when I talk shit about my friends, I mostly do it to their faces because if they're acting stupid, I think they should know about it. I hope they would do the same for me. Mostly I talk shit about stupid celebrities because seriously, they boggle my mind. I'm still trying to come up with a pithy phrase for my Kanye boycotting campaign. Maybe instead of Kan-yeah, it should be Kan-nay. SMH, I know, that's horrible. I'll keep thinking...
2. To learn something new. I cannot even keep up with the stuff I already know, why would I want to add anything to that list. I'll just maintain my level of intelligence right where it is thank you.
3. Take more time for myself. HAHAHA. I have come to the conclusion that time for myself is a fallacy. It will happen only as a fluke, there is no making time for it, so there is no point in resolving to do so.
4. Keeping a journal. I try, I really do. I write sporadically. I'll write for a couple
   
   days, then not again for say, a year, then I'll remember I have a journal and I'll pick it up again. It's pathetic. Sad thing is my life is interesting. Laughably so. I'm sure my kids would get a kick out of reading about it eventually. Perhaps I'm dismissing this one too quickly. Should rethink...
5. Save money. Yeah, in a perfect world I want to do this. I mean, I do this, but I do it so I don't know I'm doing it, with money I never see. It would be nice to be able to do it with money I do see, but I don't have money to save because I have these little plastic things that hold other people's money that they let me use when I don't have money of my own and then they charge me like 5 million times more than I used to pay it back. Yeah, so first I'm going to pay that back before I save my own money.
6. Conquer my  fears. No. I'm sorry. I will never pet a spider. You will never get me into a submarine, which attributes to two of my fears, drowning and being in enclosed spaces, I will not get too close to the Grand Canyon or any high space with little protection for fear I will plummet to my death, and keep your clowns to yourself. They will always paralyze me with fear and I refuse to ever try to conquer that. So there.
7. Swearing. Fuck that. Who cares? I know when and where to not use my "f" bombs. I will not use them when meeting your grandmother, if I'm at your wedding or funeral (well, maybe at your funeral) or if your tiny children or near, otherwise, it's fair game.
8. Give up vices. Why should I deprive myself of the very things that make life
   
   enjoyable for me? If I exercise and eat right, I don't see why I can't drink coffee and wine habitually and gamble every so often.
9.  Enjoy life to the fullest. Right. This seems like a good idea, but if you're a writer that writes about the trials and tribulations in life, one who writes about social issues like illness and cutting, school violence, death and dying, you need to be a little broody at times. So I'll live life to the fullest every other day and sulk in a writing angst the others. Good compromise?
10. Use social media less. Why? This is how people connect now. This is how I stay connected with the many writers I've met from all over the world. With the readers, librarians and teachers I've connected with through my writing. This is how I've reconnected with old friends from elementary, junior high and high school. My new BF I've known since 5th grade and where did we reconnect? Facebook. So when people tell me I should really lay off the________________(fill in your favorite social media outlet) once again I say why? Sure, human contact is important, but how cool is it to be able to stalk people all over the world now?

Is there any popular resolutions you are just saying "no" to?

Writing Wednesday: A Tattered Life

This is a new WIP (work in progress for you lay people).  It's unedited.  Let me know what you think. (No I'm not done with Sad, but sometimes when an idea pops in my head I have to go with it, to at least jot a little down so I don't forget it).

 March 18, 2011 

I’m tired.  Tired of living in this sardine can of a home with its lack of windows, torn curtains, and the smell of dog piss emanating throughout.  I’m tired of going through the motions as daughter, sister, and friend when I feel like nothing more than a speck of dust on a window pane ready to be wiped clean away.  I’m tired of the snobs and flakes and posers at school who think they’re either better than you, smarter than you, or more pathetic than you and take pride in it.  When did we come to strive for depression.  The Emo boy and girls with their dark makeup and their skinny jeans brood in the hallways acting as if their blue-collar lives are pure hell while they listen to their iPods, play on their Xboxes, and talk on their cell phones.

They don’t know what it truly is to ache.  What it’s like to watch your dad walk out the door and never come back.  To watch your mom spend every waking moment with a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.  To be the sole provider for your family, the mother to your sister.  To be mocked and bullied at school because of it all.

And this journal, and the art, it’s not enough anymore.  I can’t do it.  I’m ready to free fall from life, to plunge into the unknown.

I’m ready to let death take me away from this place.  I don’t care what’s waiting for me on the other side.  It has to be better than this . . .