Rug for Sale

Stumble, trip, fall is the routine that I have become accustomed to when it comes to you. This routine would not seem all too awful if you, of course, had the courtesy of catching me. Instead it never fails that I land on my face; left with nothing more than scars and bruises to illustrate how hard it was. It’s a shame that I have, to this day, not adapted to the player that you are. PSP, Xbox, PlayStation – they’re not enough for you. To add to your collection of favourite games is the complex and intricate muscular organ that you know all too well – my heart. Your ability to maneuver around in order to reach the middle of my thorax is what impresses me; but what astounds me the most is my inability to stop you. My continual failure to obstruct you from reaching that destination always leads to what is known as cardiac arrest. This happens when there is an abrupt stop of the heartbeat resulting in the loss of effective circulation of the blood. Unless cardiac arrest is corrected immediately, it can be extremely fatal. Prognosis: cardiopulmonary resuscitation, a.k.a CPR. Easy enough, a first-aid treatment we learned in grade 9 health class and considering you have your NLS – I’m assuming you should know it well. Apparently, the lack of oxygen causes multiple organ injuries with each minute that passes nevertheless, you watch this happen. You prolong the process as you laugh in amusement at the pain you’re causing me. But I should know by now that this is the type of person you are; pitiful, bitter and unmistakably heartless. You have a perverse and warped mind that dominates the vulnerable and makes it so they can never experience happiness with you. I truly had the belief that you had changed ways from your negative habits but you are still unwilling to let anyone in. Whenever I feel that we have met any sort of common ground, you decide to pull the rug right out from under me. Thus, causing the routine I mentioned earlier. So here it is, possibly what you’ve been waiting for: I give up. I am no longer searching for the perfect carpet that could be fitting for us both because your bipolar and indecisive nature seems to prohibit me from discovering anything suitable. What you don’t value was my determination to make you happy, to be happy with you. Unfortunately, it seems I put the cost on that too high when – as far as any one could tell – it should be worthless. The same with this rug as all it represents is inconsistency and manipulation while reminding me of how unstable we really are.

 But regardless of the pessimistic altercations that come with the carpet lies the possibility of something great. Interested? You know my number. 

(It’s not okay to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests.)
xoxOMG

- SB, my life in an abbrev. 

Welcome to Mellow Town.

In theory, it's a habit, bad habit at that. In theory. But realistically, sometimes it takes that intoxication to push your mind, to trigger different perspectives. The surroundings are so profound when you're in a state of euphoria, then you realize that all movies and all reality tv shows are based on the lives we live. You realize you don't have to be blonde and beautiful sitting on The Hills or rawly rich in The Orange County. Nor are the microphones, directors and cameras required to feel the affair in which we live in regardless. You can be sitting in the corner of your bed, laptop on lap with a speaker on each side. Linear state of mind becomes convoluted? Or does it become a sinusoidal pattern? Does the journey become the destination, or vice-a-versa?

A habit. It may very-well be a mistake. But the accumilation of mistakes merely defines experience.

Metaphorically stub your toe, and enjoy the view.
Life's a trip, don't fall.

Welcome to Mellow Town: Luxurious Style, in theory.

xoxOMG
AG, signing off.

The only thing a girl should chase...

…is her tequila shots. When you go out, you should go out with a bang: that has always been the way I live my life. The extremities of my actions are possibly what best exemplifies this lifestyle. Yet to everyone’s confusion, as well as my own, my guns were not blazing when I stepped into the ring with you that one last time. After only one week of crazy phone calls and text messages, I went back to being seemingly unchanged by the recent loss of my world. Yes, my “world”. I don’t use it as freely as your delusional character uses it today; not knowing her more than 5 weeks and she apparently holds that title? There must not have been much of a competition. Regardless of who carries the gold medal in the little game you’re playing now, I want to explain the reason why I so easily resigned from that same podium.

It was the youthful frame of mind that I was trapped in that ignited the chain of events that has brought us so far apart & different today. The magic Disney creates in classics such as Aladdin and Cinderella became apart of my reality at the end of grade nine, what I’d like to emphasize is the fact that we were in grade nine – innocently and easily captivated by each other. Practically 730 days later, I still was immersed in our relationship thoughtlessly doing whatever I wanted with the narcissistic belief that you would always come running back. This misconception was the pillar that propped me up when our relationship had ended; much like you with that girl, I had my own illusions. But along with my loss of reality came my understanding that our detrimental relationship had passed its expiry date.

The con artist that I was may make it hard to trust me but believe me when I say that if it weren’t for my relentless setbacks, I would have finished this race instead of getting disqualified. The charade I played may have had you fooled but to be completely honest – the day we broke up was, for lack of a better example, my Black Tuesday. I could see recession in the cards and my bailout put us in catastrophic amount of debt. I, being the coward in the situation, simply took on a false identity that I would continuously use as a decoy from the disastrous choices I was about to make, and had already. It’s true that you were the exact amount of dosage that I needed, however I wanted more than the doctor prescribed. The substance abuse made me remotely stable through our arguments and what tightened my grip on our relationship. It was the momentary escape into the arms of somebody else that made me miss your own.
                
But unlike wine, our relationship troubles did not age well after being locked in the cellar for so long. It was more similar to the leftover vodka that I left in my closet for months: sour and stale. Chug, chug, chug was what the tiny voice inside of me was chanting. My theme song for the time being was “Can’t Let You Go” but it was time to face the music: things weren’t so fabulous anymore. It was then that I slowly made my way to the LCBO, in hopes to find a new favourite. I admit that it was the most irrational of attempts but there they were; Bacardi, Goldschlagger, Amaretto, Baileys and my latest crave - Jose Cuervo. Sometimes it was a matter of mixing all my options in the same night. Being resilient was no longer my aim; the target was to be vulnerable. I yearned for the blackouts as the more intense they were, the easier it became to forget you. The reset button on my memory finally had to be used, not because you no longer meant anything to me, but because of how much I was still in love with you - and would continue to if I refused to discard that particular roll of film.

Your vodka shot to my lips a measly 40 days ago, however, was irresistible – tempting enough to make me relapse. It was a flashback to year 2006: me on your bike handlebars, kissing on escalators, holding hands on park benches, in my bright yellow shorts with your oversized wife beaters that I would later take home to wear to sleep. ‘Soundtrack of my summer’ --- But as I hindered by the bottles of Absolut and Smirnoff, I came to the realization that these past 10 months altered my taste buds and have forced me into remission. What I propose you leave this page with today is the understanding that my alcohol overindulgence was merely to suppress the pain of the wound you left. I want you to recognize my intention was to allow you to find that unexplainable bliss you and I always spoke of. That remarkable sense of ‘calm and serenity’ that I seemed unable to provide you with the last 5 months prior to the end of our relationship. I do wish that I could have grasped the consequences of my wrong doings in advance. With that being said, I hope you find happiness, even if that same happiness is not with me.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda – didn’t.
Bring on the salt and lemons.
I’ve got Tylenol for the hangover.  
xoxOMG:
- SB, my life in an abbrev.

Super Human

Often enough I speak of the two guys who have made the greatest impacts – the first crush to the first love. Both, still prominent enough in my life today to make impressions on me and my decisions. But it is often these two men that cloud my vision and cause me to make the most foolish and unreasonable decisions; summer ’08 and DR ’09 are just some recent additions to the collection. It is my constant referral back to what these two mean(t) to me that may cause you to question what you, in turn, are to me. Some refer to us coming together as coincidence but this was no accident and this bond is what I like to refer to as, fate. We may have lost our sense of romance but it’s evident that there is such thing as destiny.
I constantly narrate about the men that have changed me but it is time to bring forth the ladies that have created me. That’s right. This post is about you guys, the very ones I write blogs with. My first glimpse at our relationship came through my plummet from that subjective social ladder that we, now, so often criticize. To me, the pinnacle of that ladder was what made my existence worthwhile. However, you three were what adjusted my mind frame and prepared me for this little thing called, reality. Our coming together has made me rediscover aspects of my personality I would have otherwise been blind to. You grant me stability from my often irrational tendencies that are often fueled by even the insignificant of them, a.k.a. “THAT FUCKINGGGG SNAKKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.” You make sure I don’t get suspended for fighting with grade 11s that swear they will, and I quote, “make me bleed” – instead you promise you will kill them for me. You keep me from drowning myself in intricate and long-winded waves of worst-case scenarios that logically, would never happen. You make it your duties to:
a) hide my alcohol when I am on the ground but still claiming “I am not drunkkkkk”.
b) prevent me from hookups that I will regret in the morning, despite my arguing.
c) make sure I have my metropass to get home and that I do, in fact, get home.
You do this to make sure my dad doesn’t kill me. You’re in my life to keep me out of jail, off the street and alive. However, the number one reason you have my back is because you guys are my best friends and that is, ultimately, what friendship is for. Which is something we don't need any "linguistic genius" to teach us. LOL-inggg.
Now, I could write for days on what you three mean to me but you luckily do not need me for your ego because our booster seats are only a text message away.
From the ‘blem’ days to the drunk nights;
you've made me the person I am, you make me super human.
[asap]: "We’re actually amazing".
I love you, but most of all - I love us.
xoxOMG 
- SB, my life in an abbrev.

Vulnerable Verbal Vomit

Vulnerability is the susceptibility to physical or emotional injury or attack. It also means to have one's guard down, open to censure or criticism; assailable. Vulnerability refers to a person's state of being liable to succumb, as to persuasion or temptation. I was easily affected by your words, your words both emotionally and physically bruised me. Think about it, how do you eliminate a bruise? You can't; a cut can be bandaged and cleaned, a headache can be cured by a pill, even a damn hickee can be eliminate by re-circulating blood. But where is the damn cure for a bruise? There is none, so I assume that I will damned with the title of being incurable. Your words were the key to my heart. HA. Who am I kidding you used your spidey senses and used words to purely get into my pants, and wallet. It's ridiculous how a person can take someone’s "words" and assume that they have not been watered down or spiced up. "BAM! Kick it up a notch", He was your favourite Hollywood chef. You simply black peppered up your game plan, and tried to make a sweet thing salty. I don't know where you get your thoughts or feelings. But where I get mine, they don't come seasoned! Verbal vomit, vulnerable verbal vomit, is right, I portrayed the real me while you were playing the role of Jim Carey and wearing a pitiful green mask. Makes me sick to my stomach, like when you have drunk too much and feel your stomach churning. Along with the vomit came the hang-over; having to deal with the actions of the night (months) before all at once. Now, you got all day to pound your meat. Okay. Go ahead go crazy, I am now Sober.

xoxOMG
-AC, what the BUTT?!

Constant Reminder

FML. Not the site, literally my fucking life. How can something that is so bad for you seem so right? And that is where my story begins. Abuse, verbal or emotional does it really matter? An abuse shouldn’t take away a use. The fact that one abuses something doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good thing to begin with. If the relationship was never good to begin with, is it allowed to not follow the exceptions of this rule? Love, the word which has multiple meanings and differs among people. I guess love was shown by force, you cared that much that you had to use all your testosterone to prove it. Why do men find the need to portray their manliness, why do they always have to be the stronger ones? Will they ever get out of the mentality of the cave man? When one is blinded by “love” the right thing constantly becomes hidden in the shadows. I thought what we had was normal, that eventually you would change. Now, I have come to the realization that maybe people cannot change. Their traits are forever embedded in their DNA. Money can temporarily buy happiness, but it can’t hold someone’s love.

The forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest. Then came along the captain of my dreams, but I should have known you were too good to be true. I should have known that perfection should not be expected in cave men. Cave men will continue looking for their lives, following no specific path just flowing with the flow, doing what will benefit their lives. You literally came and knocked me down. You pulled me out of a bad situation and somewhat made it worse. In my previous state I at least had trust, and security. Was it the lack of this that kept me hanging on? The player will always run his game, you ran your game on court and I should have expected the “baller” mentality to continue on, even when dealing with emotions. If my name was Spalding would you have paid more attention, the interest would have been permanently there. Is the game that you crave, do you crave winning. I have come to the conclusion that you must always be the winner; you must always have the “OFSAA” medal? Home wreckers don’t exist right? Home wreckers should be called time savers. Why do people have a theory but yet don’t live by that theory. You did waste my time; I left my body builder security guard for a 80 year old one?

Now I cry over chocolate soy milk and green polka dot boxers. Why does someone so insignificant seem so significant? No matter how many times I see you I always walk away enriched. You were more than just the flavour of the month, I am now aware that I was only your double scoop vanilla ice-cream with sprinkles. And you’re choosing rocky road, when the known favourite is right in front of you. But ice-cream will never stay solid, it will always turn into a liquid all that is needed is an influential bystander. You were there to make my pieces fall apart but where were you when I needed to build them back up? The player will always play, so go ahead and play with baby rattles, and fisher price toys. Realizations only come when it is too late, have fun in Manila.
Again, FML.

xoxOMG
-AC, what the BUTT?!

"You Fcuked Up"

I am currently spiraling down the Marissa Cooper realm. Dedicated OC fans will understand this a little better than the norms that lived less fulfilling lives by not tuning in every Thursday night to catch Orange County drama. Luckily, you have me to give you a breakdown.

In season one, she befriends Oliver Trask who she meets at a psychiatric office, which should have been enough of a hint to Marissa, but her good-nature taught her to think otherwise. Her friendliness and openness caused him to become absorbed in her life and focused on spoiling the relationship with her boyfriend, Ryan Atwood. This unhealthy obsession Oliver has for Marissa is revealed when he threatens to kill himself if Marissa “leaves”.
(Figure 4.3 of the Marissa Cooper complex.)

In season three, Marissa meets Johnny Harper who helps her progress from the troublesome events that occurred when Ryan found out his brother, Trey, tried to rape her. The camaraderie that Johnny offers Marissa is something Ryan cannot give as he, too, is still shaken up about the measures that were taken. It was Johnny’s accident, in particular, that caused the two to grow closer as Marissa felt accountable and felt it her responsibility to get him back on his feet. In this time, Johnny falls in love with Marissa who responds by revealing she will never reciprocate those same feelings – only for him to go on a drinking binge and fall off a cliff.
(Figure 8.6 of the Marissa Cooper complex.)

Poor girl. The mere innocence of a friendship that grows into the legendary unrequited love is a situation that some may know all too well. My only hope is that none ended with any potentially disastrous or successful suicide attempts. However, the virtue of amiability that you manage to master is often the grounds of which causes a rift between you and your guy friend. This may puzzle you but the simple principle is that the piece that’s missing is feelings that compliment his own.

This commonly awkward situation results in the theory: “Women and men can’t be just friends.” This is disputable but is frequently the circumstance when it comes to long-term friendships between the opposite sexes. This is due to how much both partners are involved in each other’s lives; from their hobbies, interests, routines and personal attributes. Since you do know so much about each other, you use this information for your personal gain in order to be a better friend. This special effort, however, is unluckily what brought you here. Here, being the Marissa Cooper complex.

You continue to remain nice and pleasant, in attempt to play a naïve character but you don’t have everyone fooled. Reason being is that some have cued in to what our subconscious fiend asked you to do from the beginning: 'String them along, you like the attention. You deserve the attention.' Now you’ve got a hunch about what is happening but you prefer to remain in denial about it instead of saving yourself from this convoluted mess you’ve created.

But that’s deceitful, is it not?
Welcome to collateral damage.

xoxOMG
- SB, my life in an abbrev.

Uncommon Denominator

Half and half, a whole. Easy enough to understand, mathematically and logically. You learn it in maybe grade 2 or 3, or maybe just figure out while eating a pizza. The school's curriculum is as deceiving as life is in itself. Growing up you see that everything pieces together and everything fits. It’s all fine and dandy.

Then, high school: a sinusoidal function, a repetitive roller coaster. You go from 1 + 1 = 2 to finding the derivative of x, an unknown. Yeaup, that's high school - the unknown. Straight answers are never enough anymore, it's all about using different formulas to find out every single possibility, then use the process of elimination to find the final, most accurate answer.

The length of the process is unbearable and the end result will still have a margin of error if not done precisely. Thus, there would be no need for the agonizing procedure, if what’s being asked of just doesn’t work and never will.

Math? Who said anything about math? *Sigh life.
It’s irritating witnessing a –for lack of a better word- “relationship” being forced. It’s exasperating to notice someone “running their game” or going through that painful procedure where results are going to be undefined. They forget that, you can’t add two things of an uncommon denominator, that uncommon denominator being both of their feelings. They disregard that the other person is trying to subtract themselves from the equation. And sadly, they try to force the other person to reciprocate their feelings forgetting that order of operations is called division.

Check your math.
1+1=Window.
Now go jump out of it.

xoxOMG
-AG, signing off.

Court in Session

People walk around as we know it, judging. Don’t get offended, cause as you read that sentence you might think “Woaaaah, what are you talking about? I’m not judgemental”. I say, you have a glitch in your brain if you think you don’t have the potential to critique someone or something. Every person is programmed to have a sense of judgement. Although you may not always frankly make a comment about someone or something you’re constantly in this realm where your opinion means everything. People say that being judgemental is ignorant, but is not ignoring your very own say, being ignorant in its self? It’s ignorant to think that “judging” is directly related to being a bitch or being one who thinks way too highly of themselves or being closed-minded.

It all depends on your intellectual capacity to quite honest. It’s not the fact that you’re judging someone; it’s how you judge that person. I think that, one who thinks too highly of themselves is someone who entirely disregards other people’s perspective because their ideology is that they’re in this definitive hierarchy where no one else matters. Also, last time I checked, being closed-minded defines the idea that one overlooks all other perspectives. However, is not denying your idea, your own perspective about a certain something being closed-minded?

You walk the streets and you see someone of a certain eccentricity. Human instinct automatically triggers your eyes in that direction; if we didn’t have this instinct to point out the out of the ordinary then our species as we know it would be extinct. You wonder why a person dresses a certain way, talks a certain way, eats a certain way, the list goes on. Yes, you’re judging. Good for you, you’re putting your two sense into activity in front of you.

The truth of the matter is, not everything one concludes is going to be accurate. It’s just that unfortunate. It’s unfortunate that all of us whether we accept it or not have this animalistic trait where we can be the prey or predator. People are going to judge, let them judge. If that person doesn’t think you are significant enough for them to take the time to get to know you, then maybe you just aren’t. You’re a mere speck on this earth, get over it. What humans have that animals don’t is the sense to communicate civilly, if they don’t choose to communicate with you, that person should just be an insignificant animal to you, as you are to them.
Leave it alone, it takes a fully evolved human to do so. It takes intelligence.
Smarten up.

Court dismissed.

xoxOMG
-AG, signing off.

To greed, all nature is insufficient

After one philosophy class, which I surprisingly went in to sober, I came to the conclusion that the root of all acts that we commit is none other than greed. In philosophical terms, we call this egoism where the ultimate and definitive aim is one’s own welfare. The thought seems controversial and extreme, to say the least, because humans want to avoid being sucked into the realm of the fifth deadly sin. So why do we not, like all others weeds, proceed to yank them out? This is because we unfortunately prolong this process until we catch a glimpse of the final product. We instead play the innocent characteristic that we like to call the subconscious. We blame it on the involuntary instead of owning up to our actions by realizing that the intention was always present.

We claim to be altruistic people that make sacrifices to benefit the well-being of others. However, the inconvenient truth that our actions are essentially based on our own desires is constantly lurking. But like they say, “ignorance is bliss” and to know that we are driven merely by selfishness is to ultimately know too much. This is because our egocentric characteristics change the essence of every good deed that we perform; it alters the ideal thrill that we rely on with every noble intention. E.g., Recall the time you decided to tell your friend that his girlfriend had cheated on him? In your defense, it was because you truly believed he had the right to know and that it was unfair, to him, to not be aware. On the other hand, you only felt guilty that you had known and had not yet told him. You felt that it was too much of a burden to have that on your chest and in order to escape your asphyxiation - you told him. Am I right, or am I right? Ergo, a person only willingly performs an act based on the primary human condition to execute personal desires; to result in one’s own personal happiness.

Since we are establishing that what we do is based on the subconscious, we must regard that newfound feelings are often based on the subliminal beliefs we had prior to. This is probably true in cases such as: falling in love with your best friend. The attraction was probably evident in your initial meeting and you modestly became their friend to be just that, their friend. Yet, your intuition foresaw the possibility of “becoming more” with that person and by being with them constantly – it became a more practical prospect. You begin showing your desirable qualities such as your loyalty, companionship and your ability to listen with hopes that he/she will change her mind on what you two share. It’s a fixation that the relationship between you and the opposite person will evolve.

What you must understand is that our relationship is meant to be a trampoline, not your safety net. I am here to bounce you back on to your feet when you fall, not catch you. So here, my friend, is where your illusion of our bond ends. This may be long overdue but I'm willing to pay my late fees. Since our dependency on eachother is cynically enough in two completely different ways: it holds a lot of risks that could cause either of us great harm - that being a risk I am not so willing to take. My ego’s hunger may still need to be fed but I refuse to let my animalistic trait take advantage of you, as you do have the desirable qualities I stated above. However, I care for you. Enough that I would rather starve.

xoxOMG.
- SB, my life in an abbrev.

Kiss Kiss

And so it began:
Regina Mundi, St. Clare, St. Margaret & St. Alphonsus.
Although each and primary school are within the premises of the GTA there was no connection, no glimpse into the friendship we could, would, should and had happened. And even still, through secondary education where our experiences, our cliques and our person personalities differentiated some awkward yet profound force brought us together: Marshall McLuhan, second floor. Where are we going with this? We don't know, it can be for the sake of our own leisure, our own piece of mind or the satisfaction knowing that we're not just an ordinary group of girls/clique that are always together.

"Real Talks" (lol-ING):
Haters are going to hate. The best part is; we don't care. All four of us might be, no, are overly-analytical, however, we can also be relaxed and care-free towards the insignificant issues. But what we find significant can be entirely unimportant to others, hence - haters are going to hate. Therefore:
Dear Hater, click "Next Blog".

Aside from that, we can honestly give you an entire novel in this very post explaining the history of our lives. But then, that would defeat the purpose of this entire blog. Thus, for now, we shall give you a synopsis. With that said, I'm Alyssa [ah-LEE-ssah] G. Although very known by my last name I don't like exposing it. I'm the freakish cross between Selena and Blair so I've been told; a Slayer - I can metaphrically stab you with a steak. Frankly, I enjoy sitting at home puking out my thoughts and then cleaning it up to make it an artform. Many times in my life I thought of creating a book - but let's be realistic, I'm seventeen, we all are. Since blogging's the new thing, this will do, for now.

Now, why don't I take the time to introduce my homonym - she's spelled the same, but pronounced differently Alyssa [uh-LHI-ssuh] C. the Lindsey Lohan of the group, there ever so adorable drama queen. Someone who can relate to almost every emo-song out there.
We keep her sane.

Also, meet my alter-ego Stephanie 'fcuking' B. I just find it so neccessary to curse right before her last name. I find her to be that person that can stretch any thought around the world, twice. We keep her, rational.

Last but definitely not least, (ew, cliche - who does that?), meet Pamela D.C. our innocent by stander, my partner in crime and my right hand woman. She is most likely the most logical out of all of us. We might have crumbled 12 feet under the ground is it wasn't for her. Again, out of all of us, she has the least drama, although, she conjured up the idea of making this blog. Nobody, and I mean nobody hates her, yet, she's our friend. How's that for irony?
We keep her entertained, she keeps us stable.

There you have it, the back bone of our existence on this very site. But don't get caught off guard, keep up as we give you the organs and maybe some fatty tissue. It's a confusing biological metaphor.

We mock the Gossip Girls over there in the upper east-end
... & we're similar to the Mean Girls down south.
Don't end up in our ash-tray. (It's just a fair warning)
We'll see you in the Upper West-End.

xoxOMG
-AG, signing off.