vikinglimbs:

Everybody Gets One. (Taken with instagram)

Today, I celebrate the far too short life of a man I never met. It seems odd, but Scott means more to me than most of the people I have met thus far. Scott was my best friend’s best friend.

Zach, keep your head up. The talent you possess is rare and indescribable. It’s a gift from the gods, and you should be so proud of yourself. I’m sure Scott is. Always remember that in the same way Scott inspired you, you inspire me every single day. Be thankful for the time you spent with him and revisit the good times in your mind often. They’ll help you get through the hard times, and they’ll remind you to cherish every second of these short lives we were given.

Scott, every time I worry about Zach for whatever reason, be it his health driving so much or anything else my crazy mind allows me to worry about, I feel better knowing you’re near him. You’ve kept him safe. You’ve inspired him. You’ve helped to mold him into the caring, sensitive, incredibly strong, unique individual I adore.

Thank you for being the love of my life’s guardian angel. I owe you.

(Source: temperatelivesnj)

This is my mini freak out. I’m graduating in 18 days. That’s less than three weeks. I’m attempting to finish up coursework, embrace these last couple of weeks at college, figure out what my next move, and apply for jobs. I’m well aware everyone else before me in life that’s graduated college has gone through this. So this is me asking for advice. 

I’m torn between working my ass off and trying to pull all B+’s and A’s and sacrificing what is left of my social life here at college, or taking some B’s and some A’s and having some fun before I’m stuck being an adult forever and ever and ever. Any suggestions?

Sometimes I think that I rush all the good things in life, the big moments I should embrace and soak in, because you’re not around. I try and play things down and tell myself that they aren’t a big deal so that I don’t feel like I need you there. Maybe I subconsciously thought that zipping through college and being done with it would make it easier somehow. Graduation is 32 days away and tonight it hit me that you won’t be there. You weren’t at my middle school graduation, or my high school graduation either, so I don’t know why it took my so long to acknowledge that you won’t be here for this one. The big one.

But who am I kidding? When you were alive you weren’t there anyway, or you were late. So late you missed things. Like me learning to ride a bike. Like my holy communication. Like a dozen other things I was too young to understand probably. But none of that matters now. Because as I’ve grown up I’ve realized something. Your death changed me beyond comprehension. Almost on a daily basis I come to find that my views and feelings have been molded slightly differently than others because you’re gone. It made me scared of so many things, but it also made me realize things. And mom’s struggles and daily choices confirm it. No matter how fucked up someone can be, no matter how thoughtless or hurtful someone can be to themselves as well as their loved ones, you still need them around. And 99% of the time you don’t want them around. They break your heart and you can barely look at them without your stomach turning, but somehow it’s what you need. Id rather you be there and drunk or high than not be there at all. I’d rather have you 24 hours late and congratulation me for the wrong thing rather than being buried six feet under. 

I’ve always needed you, and I always will. 

Because no one is perfect, and a large percent of us are fucked up and wounded and angry and sad about something.

So I’m gonna sit here and miss you and not try and fight, hide, or deny it. Because I’m allowed to miss you. I should. And I always will.

And with that being said, I’m going to keep kicking ass and pushing myself, because your death might have fucked me up… but I also made me the strongest version of me. So when I’m 90, miserable and wrinkly, I’ll sit on my porch, look back on my life, and be absolutely certain that you were proud of me every step of the way.

Miss you dad. I know I don’t believe in much of anything these days, but I do believe you’re there somewhere making sure I don’t screw up too bad. So thank you. 

Over a year ago, I did something awful. I did something I wish no one else ever had to do. But I can promise you, my choice and actions do not make me a bad person. I’m not going to hell. I’m not going to regret my decisions because you shove your fucking beliefs down my throat. I promise you, I made the right choice. The fact that I’m graduating in 32 days completely confirms that. So do me a favor and don’t make claims and put down people’s choices until you yourself have been put in that same exact situation. Most of the time, you’ll never EVER be in their position. So give it up. Keep your mouth shut. Go read a book on evolution, then maybe we’ll talk. Save face and avoid making yourself come off as an ignorant piece of shit.

I know you well. I know you got handed everything in life. I know that you were spoiled and your family is corrupt and I know for a fact that you’ve never gone through anything even close to what I have been through. With that being said, I still have never shoved my views and beliefs in your face. The worst I’ve done is post this. And you’ll never read it, which is why I’m okay with posting it. And if you do, maybe you’ll learn something. But I doubt it.

Over the last week or so, I’ve learned something. I’ve learned that most people that know me are right. I’m a judgmental, unfriendly person most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m amazing at nteracting in a professional setting. But I’m completely different when it comes to making friends. I generally doubt you. I have zero faith in you. I don’t go out of my way to be nice, I don’t trust you, and I sure as hell don’t do things for you unless you deserve it. 

I’ve mentioned this before but I got screwed over several times as a child when it came to friends. I do believe that has made me into the person I am today. Because of those past experiences, I come off cold and uninviting. My first assumption is that you’re a selfish, naive human being that slacks off and doesn’t want to work hard and make a name for yourself. I’m glad I had that rough childhood, because I want to be this way. There are too many assholes in this world for me to just go ahead and believe in them right away. Prove me wrong, and then we can talk. 

I know I’m going to get somewhere. I know for a fact. I work hard, and I might not be an actual genius, but I’m brilliant in my own way. I still doubt myself and stress and worry about my future, but on nights like tonight, I gain a little more faith in myself and reassure myself that I’m fine and will continue to be.

I feel sorry for the people that dedicate all of themselves to one thing. Religion, school, significant others, popularity, whatever. I feel like I’m surrounded by it these days. I’m not sure if it’s because these people haven’t experienced as much as I have. Or maybe they sincerely believe that that one specific aspect of their life is far more important than the rest. How? Is God/your degree/your boyfriend/your reputation going to cloth and support you, make you happy and complete always? Come on. Just think of that. Because if everything else in this universe disappeared and you were left with just that one thing, you wouldn’t be happy. You wouldn’t be complete. There has to be a balance. There has to be other things. It’s not healthy. It’s really not. I love my family. I love Zach. I love my friends. I love the career path I’ve chosen. But if I was left with just one of those things, I’d never be the same. I’d never be complete.

Stop trying to save the world when you really need to save yourself from getting sucked into the bullshit nonsense you dedicate your life to. So go pick a real career, read something that your daddy didn’t shove down your throat, and make a few choices on your own, and make those choices because they are truly what you want and not because some book told you it was wrong.

Thanks.

Yesterday I learned that I shouldn’t be so quick to judge people. Everyone is at a totally different point in their lives. I see people as immature and inconsiderate because they don’t have the same outlook as me. When it comes down to it, I’m sure other people feel that exact same way about me. 

Everyone has been through different life experiences and have learned different lessons so far. You can tell people how you’ve learned from previous mistakes and try to offer advice but when it comes down to it, they want and need to experience it on their own. That doesn’t make them reckless or careless or ignorant, it just makes them human. 

Emotionally and mentally I believe I’m more mature or ahead of my age group. Life experiences, particularly negative ones, have impacted me in a way that most people don’t get to experience by the young age of 21.

However, in other ways, maybe professionally, I’m not experienced as some of the people around me. We’re all ahead and behind in different areas of life. 

Last night, someone told me that my mind is mine, I control it. I know that sounds silly, but it’s hard for me to wrap my head around. It doesn’t control me. I can stop start pause or do whatever I want in my mind. I’m going to try my best to keep believing in that. I can stop myself from automatically judging people because they don’t think and feel the same way I do. It’s not fair and I wouldn’t like people to do that to me.

On a side note, since I control my mind, I’m going to stop myself from having these nightmares. I’ve never gone into much detail about them on here, but I’ve been struggling with terrible nightmares since I was very young. They are coming back stronger than ever and I’m going to stop it. I’m one of those people that hates the idea of therapists and admitting that I need help. I’m not saying it’s wrong for everyone, but I’ve grown up telling myself I can handle anything and I have, so I will continue to. 

Flowers, herbs, and edy’s orange and cream fruit bars = my summer. (Taken with Instagram at Henning’s Flower Fair)

Not that I have a ton of followers to begin with, but this rant is definitely going to make me lose a few. I don’t care. I’m upset, and this needs to be said.

I’m upset because Leiby Kletzky is dead. He was murdered by a sick fucking man. I didn’t know Leiby but I know that he was a child, and had a long life ahead of him until this sick fuck came around and abducted him and the proceeded to chop him up into pieces.

I’m upset because people like Levi Aron are out there right now, walking the streets, and murdering innocent people. This seriously scares me beyond all belief. Why do these people exist? I can’t wrap my head around it. And honestly, because these people exist, I doubt the idea of a higher being most days.

But here’s what I came to say. Anyone that murders someone should be killed. I don’t really care if they are hanged or injected or shot or stabbed or ran over repeatedly. They should die. Whether it’s sick fucks like Levi Aron, or an asshole who decided to drive drunk and killed someone in the process, they are murderers. End of story. I don’t care how it was done, or if drugs, alcohol, or a mental illness were partly ”to blame” for the person to commit the murder. I don’t care if they are insane and their families think that can seek help and maybe change one day. No. I don’t care if “it was an accident”. Really? You accidently pounded back enough drinks to get yourself drunk, accidently thought you were sober enough to drive, accidently got behind the wheel and killed an innocent driver? No.

This world is far to overpopulated to begin with so while people are on the streets starving and dying from exposure, we’re housing murderers in prisons and feeding them and keeping them alive. For what? So they can get out and do it again? Screw that. If our court systems aren’t there to serve justice, what’s the point of courts to begin with?

I’m sorry that this is poorly written and may come off as crazy and insensitive but it’s exactly how I’m feeling so I don’t really care if it upsets you.

If you ask the people that really know me, they’ll tell you I’m not the most accepting person when it comes to certain things. When it’s people, I love everyone right off the bat, no matter who you are, where you come from, what your beliefs are, or anything like that. I really try my hardest to not be judgmental and keep an open mind. But, when it comes to sad things, it’s very hard for me to accept the harm or pain in any situation. 

For example, when I hear a news story about a young girl being abducted, or about the horrific tornadoes that have been sweeping this country, or that TSA worker made a 95 year old woman with cancer in a wheelchair take off her diaper during their search, I honestly go a little insane (this is why Zach tells me not to watch the news). I spend hours obsessing over these things, I lose sleep or become cranky and basically intolerable. I can’t wrap my head around why these things happen. Most of the time I think about what I’d do if I was there in or witnessing the situation, and what I could/would do to help. It’s a bad habit, some might say. But I like to think that one day, I’ll be in a situation where I can make a difference and really help someone, and all my obsessing from that past will help me make the best decision possible. That’s how I attempt to accept things like that. I tell myself that the people around me and I will learn from the bad things in order to make a difference in the future.

Then, there are times when I can’t accept things that I most certainly cannot change, like death. One of the most frustrating things I find is not the fact that people I love die, because I definitely have accepted that it will happen to everyone, it is indeed, a part of life. However, I can’t accept that the people that have already left this earth, won’t get to meet me or all the important people in my future. 

My grandmother passed away before I was born. From what I’ve been told, she was an amazing hungarian lady with a heart of gold. She was constantly smiling, cooking, baking, and hugging and kissing her loved ones. I like to think I’m a lot like her. But when it comes down to it, I constantly obsess over what she could’ve helped me to become, or what kind of woman she would’ve molded me into. 

Then, there’s my father. I could go on for days about how different things would’ve been with him here, but to be completely honest, it hurts too much to dwell on. Although it’s not right, I’ve attempted to become numb to the fact that he wasn’t there to raise me. I was 11 when he passed away, so it’s not like I haven’t met him. But when I think of him not meeting someone like Zach, someone that matters to me just as much as my own family, my heart breaks. I imagine what my dad would think sometimes. I like to pretend that I knew him that well. I know for a fact he would’ve hated Zach in the beginning. With all his tattoos and piercings, I’m pretty sure it would’ve taken one hell of a speech just to be able to go on a date with him. But, I also like to think that after seeing how Zach treats me, and how happy he makes me, my dad, just like the rest of my family, would grow to adore him just as much as I do. The thing that gets me the most is that he won’t be here to give me away to the love of my life when that day comes. If that hurts this much now, I can’t imagine how I’m going to hold it together on my wedding day.

Next up is Scott. I’ve written about him before. Scott was Zach’s best friend. I hear endless stories about him, and I love every single one. My love for this guy is something like I’ve never felt. People might say “how can you love someone you never met?”, I promise you, you can. I love him because he helped Zachary become the sensitive, thoughtful, caring man he is. I’m forever grateful for that. Without a doubt in my mind, Scott would’ve changed me as a person, had I ever met him. I’m actually convinced that he has anyway. I look at life a little differently after hearing his story and I’m absolutely certain I will meet him someday.

Lastly, there is Chris. Chris was my dad’s cousin, but to me, he was “Uncle Chrissy”. He passed away 10 years ago today. A decade. A whole decade ago. I wouldn’t be half as obsessed with the Wizard of Oz as I am, if it wasn’t for Chris. He had this light about him, this constant electricity that everyone could feel when they were near him.  He made everyone feel more alive. Recently, I’ve learned that Zach has a similar effect on me. Zach’s got that same jolly way about him as Chris did. That almost-overwhelming-yet-contagious-excitement. It got me thinking about how much Uncle Chris and Zach would’ve gotten along. Comic books and superheroes and art and collectibles and music. Their interests are so similar, it’s unbelievable.

In my heart I know that if these people ever met, something magically would happen. But, I shall try not to dwell on the impossible. Instead, I will tell myself that in an alternate universe somewhere, all of these things are happening. I’m baking Kiffles with my grandmother in a kitchen that looks identical to Papa’s while learning hungarian. My dad, Uncle Chris and Zach are going to a comic book convention. Scott and are picking out the perfect gift for me to give Zach for our two year anniversary. Because as impossible as these things are, deep down inside, I cannot accept that they will never be able to happen. 

I spent all of last week in Cancun, the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to, with the love of my life. The absolute love of my life. I can honestly say it was one of the greatest weeks I’ve ever had and I’m so happy I got to experience my first real vacation with him.

Zach and I basically lived together last summer. He lost his license for a little while and I was there half the week or more, helping him get around, grocery shop, and let’s be honest, mooch off of his amazing apartment on Beach Ave in Bradley Beach.  It was a rough summer for both of us, hell, most of 2010 honestly sucked, but it was our first real summer together.  That summer we grew so much as a couple, and although we spent a great deal of time together, I’ve always wondered what a straight week of being together every single waking moment would be like.

Cancun was it! And let me tell you, I miss him right now, being back home alone in this stupid condo, more than I ever have before.  I’m unsure of so many things in my life, but one thing’s for certain: I want this guy stuck by my side until the end of time, and I can’t wait to make a home with him someday. 

And I’ll be in cancun on a beach with the love of my life. I’m gonna write more about this at a later time because it’s beyond a huge deal for me - but for now I shall just leave it at that.

It’s all that’s keeping me motivated right now. Well that, and my twenty-first birthday that’s right around the corner.

This shall be my weekend. This is all I want to do the whole weekend. It’s also the only reason I’m being productive right now. I don’t want to worry about a thing this weekend, i just want to lay in this bear’s arms. Yep.

I think it very well might be impossible to change someone. Or for someone to change themselves. I’ve always been torn on that idea. But you see, the thing is, there are days when I’m so sure that I’ve changed. Because I want to change. I really want to be an amazing person and make my family and friends happy, while staying myself. And then there’s days when I really think, and I start to believe that I haven’t really changed at all. I’ve just learned to conceal parts of me that made others unhappy. I haven’t changed, I’ve just learned to act how I should? I don’t even know if that’s true.

But there are some people that don’t even do that, which actually might be better.  They don’t put on an act. They just stand there and say, “Hey, I’m gonna fuck up. You’re gonna get annoyed and frustrated and want to yell at me until your blue in the face trying to get through to me and I might even pretend like you have for a short period of time, but it’s not the case. This is who I am and either you accept that and learn to live and love it, or you’re wasting your fucking time.”

As I’m writing this I’m almost thankful that Zach’s like that. I mean he’s never said those exact words, nor will he ever, but that’s how he is. But at least he stays true to himself. He owns it, and he’s so romantic and caring and compassionate that it’s hard to stay mad. And after I yell at him for things, I start to realize, just because those things are what I do, or just because that’s how I’d handle a situation, doesn’t mean it’s right.

Zachary has been around a little while longer than me, and in actuality we haven’t even known each other that long. He’s gotten through many hard times without me, and he’s doing pretty well for himself. I need to remember that. I need to remember that he can handle things on his own, in his own way, and unless he asks for help or my opinion, it’s not exactly needed. I might worry and obsess over things and for some odd reason, I expect him to do the same at times. And that’s the worst. I’d never want anyone to be as weary as I am. I don’t want to turn you into someone different, or me, even if I come off that way sometimes.

I’m sorry I yelled. I know you can and will get through everything that comes your way. Sometimes I just need to remind myself to stay calm and have faith in you. I have so much faith in you, my love. 

Keep your head up. I love you very much. 

lanez:

she right