Vinyl Sticker

I raised a question recently asking "Do you know who you are?"
I know who I am. But explaining it is something that everybody struggles with. You can write out aspects of yourself or your views, opinions, hopes, dreams etc. but does that really EXPLAIN who you are?
Not really.

But as far as I can describe, this is me.

I’m only nineteen but I often feel much older. I don’t like it when people put me down because of my age – I’ve been through a lot in my nineteen years and don’t appreciate people who can’t or won’t see that.
I feel lucky to run out of fingers when I count all the people that I love.
I think that everybody really does know who they are and people who say they don’t are simply in denial. I’m the only person I know who actually knows and admits this. People are always taught to accept people for who they are; learn to accept yourself for who you are, too.
At any given time, if I could be anywhere in the world, it would be drinking beer in the sun somewhere. I really am that easily amused.
I cry in war movies. A lot.
I always manage to stretch my pay right out to an empty bank account by pay day.
Anzac Day and Australia Day make me happier than Christmas.
I often wish I lived in the country. I think I’d like it better there.
I don’t mind being independent but it’s nice to be able to depend on somebody every now and then.
I’ve never tried to quit smoking, and I’m not sure I want to either.
Men don’t look like they used to anymore. They all look like they’re straight out of Kings of Leon or something.
I have a strong hate for the expression “Murphy’s Law!” It makes me cringe.
I like smoking weed, but I’ve seen how it changes people so I never push my own limits.
The smell of bushfires makes me smile. For such a terrible natural disaster, it somehow reminds me that everything is okay.
I didn’t like high school and have no regrets for leaving at sixteen. I think it was the best thing I ever did.
My favourite people in the world are people I have only met once.
I trust everyone unless they give me a reason not to.
I don’t know what I’m going to do when my Dad dies one day. I live in fear that it will happen before we’re ready.
I stopped eating meat when I was sixteen but couldn’t bring myself to give up seafood.
Sometimes I wish I was alongside Sal Paradise in “On The Road”. Travelling around America in the 50’s and eating apple pie.
I sometimes secretly think that people walk all over me because I’m too understanding. I can’t help it if I really do understand and accept other’s decisions.
I live for Mexican food.
I cry sometimes, but I’m strong. Just tell it to me straight.
Sometimes I wish I was a gardener. I think it would be nice to work outside with plants.
Nothing irritates me more than when people speak to me in broken-English. I’m not trying to be racist, but I just really can’t stand it.
I’m the ‘go-to’ person in my social and work life. Whenever somebody has a problem, they tend to come to me for help or advice. And I don’t mind one bit.
I think I could very easily be an alcoholic. It worries me sometimes, but not as much as not being able to drink.
I read the news every morning and regret it straight after. Sometimes it’s best not to know.
Anxiety gets the better of me sometimes. I’m scared of everything.
I love pasta but hate spaghetti. I’m not sure why.
I would put avocado on everything if I could.
I think I like the idea of writing more than I actually like it.
I’d rather keep my mouth shut than argue with somebody. Sometimes the extra stress is just not really worth it.
I don’t think that ANYBODY deserves to die.
I don’t really like NRL very much, but I pretend to because it’s fun to watch.

And finally, I’m very well aware that I am a hypocrite, but so are you.

Four Walls.

I think it's funny that a house is not necessarily a home.

The concept of 'home' extends beyond four walls and a roof. To be honest, I feel more 'at home' around people that I love than under the roof that I pay good money for. I feel a little empty inside when I realise that I don't feel at home in my own house. I should be so greatful to have a roof over my head.

A home is a place that you feel safe and secure and happy, and it's important to have that. There are places that I can go to get that relief, but it's not mine. It feels like stealing. Pretending. Lying. And it hurts sometimes.

Hit The Wall.

He stared at his hands for a long time. He was having a hard time trying to explain himself. I couldn’t tell if it was because he knew that what he wanted to say would hurt me or because he really didn’t know what to say.
He jerked his head up, looked me in the eyes and turned away again. Opened his mouth, and choked on his words. Pressed his lips tightly together; he didn’t want me to see him cry. Swore under his breath, and tried again.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he said.
I sat back in my chair and inhaled smoke from my cigarette. I tapped the ash into the ashtray and exhaled.
“It’s okay. It’s not okay, but it’s okay.”
He put his head in his hands and said he was ready to leave. The tightness in my chest was overwhelming. Part of me didn’t want him to ever leave, the other part of me wanted him to get the hell out. I couldn’t believe how much I missed him already. He asked for a hug, and when we put his arms around me, I had never felt so close and so far away from somebody in my life.
I held the door for him, my hand shaking so uncontrollably that I turned it into a wave. He smiled at me with a last-look expression on his face, like he wasn’t planning on seeing me again for a long time. I stood up straight, returned the smile and eventually closed the door.
It wasn’t until then that I, for lack of a better phrase, “hit the wall”.

A Terrible Tuesday in May.

It ended as quickly as it began. It's difficult to support something that you have no control over. To support something that isn't your decision. To support something even though it hurts.
It's the right thing to do, though. No amount of begging or pleading or apologizing or analyzing or complaining or crying will be able to change somebody elses decision. Not once they've already made it. All you can do is support them. Because you love them, and you care about them. And even when they're making a decision that makes you feel like your heart has been torn in two - you have to support it if you care.
If you care, you have to let them go. You have to let them find happiness. You can't force somebody to feel a certain way about you. And you can't be mad at them for not being able to - it's not their fault. If it's not meant to be, then it's not meant to be. It's as simple as that, to be honest.

No wonder people walk all over me.