waiting.

your long

work days make me feel distant from you.
like the lack of waking hours we spend together aren't nearly enough.

so much i want to do, so much i want to share,
but how can i when you're asleep, catching up on time you lose due to work?

of course, it's not something i can really hold against you.
however, if i told you this, would you dismiss it as something trivial?

Written on September 19, 2011

kat.

my friend kat.

she's a lovely writer.

gold shoes.

ten dollar gold shoes i wore on the way to meet my friend kat, taken on the bus.

i know.

Written on August 29, 2011

i know what it's like to be lied to, to be ignored, to be denied the existence of...i know. i know how it feels to be second best, to be the other girl, the one he cheats on another with. i know what it's like to be kept in the dark about what's really going on, what it's like to say "i love you" to someone and how your heart feels when all you get is a heavy silence on the other line. i know. all the things a girl shouldn't go through, the things a girl can do without, i know how they feel.

but would i change anything?

that's the question i can't seem to answer after so long.

confusion.

Written on February 23, 2010

You know, I seem to be spiraling down deeper and deeper into confusion when it comes to my sense of identity as the days go by. Who I was before last November is now a stranger to myself, and the firm grip I had on my dreams have loosened a considerable (and also a slightly frightening) amount. I guess this is a phase that everybody goes through at one point in their lives, and I know that this just means that I have to take time to try and figure myself out and reacquaint myself to the same (yet slightly modified) ideals I once had. It’s just that right now, I can’t seem to put a finger on who I was and who I want to be.

However, I’m not wholly confused. I know the exact reason why I feel like this. Ever since I got over the childhood trauma (that remained a chip on my shoulder for fourteen plus years) in November, the person I was before then just didn’t seem to go with the new chapter of my life. I was angry, hurt, cynical, vindictive, and totally fucked in the head because of the things I went through and because of the less-than-ideal childhood/teenage years I’ve experienced, and all that just doesn’t go with the way I look at things now. I was a mess because I had no idea how to handle all that negativity in my life, and because of the fact that I just didn’t know how to let my past go. I was driven and ambitious because of the fact that I wanted to prove all the doubters wrong, because I wanted to show them that I am worthwhile, contrary to what they think. My sense of direction only existed because I wanted to prove something toother people and not to myself, when I’ve been, and am, all those things all along.

And now, after learning the most difficult lesson of forgiveness and finally ceasing to let my past define who I am and how I think, I’m kind of lost. I have no reason to be angry anymore, no reason for the cynicism I once had, and no reason to accomplish success as a means of vengeance. So…who am I now, exactly? How am I not supposed to feel confused when those three qualities have defined me for so long? And, quite frankly, all this freedom I’ve gained from moving out of my parents’ is getting to my head. I’ve forgotten what crucial steps I need to take in order to achieve what I want to achieve. I’ve gotten so comfortable with my laziness, it’s kind of sickening.

I guess I just have to look at this period of my life as a form of…rebirth. I guess this just means that I have to take time to reevaluate everything I’ve once known and modify them to fit the life I have now chosen to lead. And as a writer, I have to go out and look for new things to write about, because always writing about rape, abuse and unrequited love can get a little tiring.

thankful.

Written on November 26, 2009

As crazy as this year has been (especially towards the end), I'm thankful for everything that's happened. This Thanksgiving has got to be the most bittersweet Thanksgiving I've ever experienced in my 20 years of life.

First off, I want to thank my blood family, immediate and extended. Though there were plenty of hard times, tears, and unwanted memories, I wouldn't be who I am without the (sometimes twisted) nurturing of each and every member. I love and hate you all, no doubt about that.

Second, I want to thank my D-Fam and GP Fam. I don't need to name any names, you all know who you are. I'm very grateful for all of you. It's really been a crazy year, from start to finish, and I'm thankful for having each and every one of you here with me to see me through the tough and easy times. I can't ask for better friends, for better people to call family. I really love you all. Each and every one of you, different and like as you all are, were much needed influences (good and bad) in my life.

Third, I want to thank life. I'm still living, still breathing, still here. I'm striving. I want to thank every boss, every superior, every opportunity that came my way, for seeing potential in me and letting me work alongside your talented, very gifted, selves.

Thank you all. I don't think I can say it enough. Thank you.

changes.

Written on November 17, 2009

Big changes, big changes occuring in my life right now.

Officially, as of today, I am no longer a prisoner of my father's household. I was told to leave the house on Sunday night, went over after school to pick up my stuff and unload it at Dobbs (nickname of the place I'm staying now) last night, and I woke up in my new home this morning. Crazy shit, right? Not really.

I always knew that it was going to come down to this, that the day I leave is the day that I never talk to my dad ever again. I knew that no matter how I left, I would always be on bad terms with my dad. Not that it bothers me too much; he was never really there for me in the first place, and I always held down my own from the day that I was legally allowed to work. I think I'm just more worried for my little brother and my mom the most. Otherwise, it just felt so natural waking up in this apartment.

However, it is a sudden move, no matter how you think about it. I'm just fortunate to have planned it out with Mia (my sister from another mister, foreal though, God bless her) in advance before the bomb was officially dropped.

I was actually supposed to move in next March, once I had everything figured out financially and such, and I was dead set on living with her.

I should probably start from the reason WHY I moved out.

My dad gave me an ultimatum, telling me that I either have to live by his rules, his way, and become the person he wants me to be (which is the one type of person I don'twant to be) or leave the house. And I, being the stubborn "I'm-going-to-stick-to-my-dreams" type of person I am, chose to leave. I guess my dad didn't really process the fact that I'm as stubborn as he is and didn't think that I'd really go. He seemed really shocked that I actually packed that Sunday night and came to pick all my stuff up.

Not that I care, but I'm just immersed in the sad humor of it all.

Ultimately, it was a move that I had to make, and was going to make anyway. I'm just really glad that I have supportive and caring friends all around me to help me through this shit, to really believe in me achieving my dreams.

I'm grateful for this change. It's not easy, but I'm intent on making this shit work. This is a prelude to the big FUCK YOU I'll be sending out to all you doubters out there.

-hannahrenee.

blessed.

Written on November 13, 2009

Times like these make me realize just how fortunate I am, in most aspects of life. I mean, sure, there could be a few improvements here and there...but overall I'm very content. I'm glad that things didn't go "according to plan" (which says quite a bit because of the fact that I am a big "planner"), and I'm so glad that things went awry when they did. Those little moments of negativity which we so hate are the moments that make you realize just how big the positive things are.

Just remember, having no control over your life is a very beautiful thing.

-hannahrenee.

change.

Written on November 7, 2009

There's something in the air that's different, something that's been altered in one fell swoop. It's a bit...unexpected, yet welcomed, and it dawns a new realization within me. I have never really...let myself feel this way before. The emotional handicap I've Tumbl'd about earlier this year? That damn parking boot on the wheel of my life? It's been...somewhat removed. That fear that boiled deep within me is just a mere simmer, the flames slowly dying. Abstract? I don't mean to be, but I just can't help it. What I'm feeling right now is abstract in general, and I don't really feel the need to make sense out of it. It just...feels right.

We'll see how all of this goes.

-hannahrenee.

insomnia and cigarettes.

Written on October 27, 2009

It's 12:13 in the morning, and this is just one of the many nights I sit here in front of this contraption, awake as ever. Sleep has eluded me once again, and once again I spend this insomnia unwisely. I can be finishing up an assignment for my scriptwriting class (but it's due next Monday), catching up on my readings for my literature class (but there's no class tomorrow due to the furlough), updating a few personal projects (but I can do that whenever), or organizing my room (but it doesn't look that bad). Yes, yes, I am the Queen of Procrastination, but we all know that already, don't we? (Oh, don't you just hear my voice, drenched in the sweet, dripping sarcasm?)

Sitting here, craving a cigarette, I'm thinking back upon this year instead of doing one of the things I mentioned.

In retrospect, 2009 has been a really weird year so far; it was like an intense roller coaster that's heading towards the end of the ride. I just don't know if I should brace myself for impact or expect a nice halting stop.

First and foremost, what threw me off the most (in a public sense) were all the celebrity deaths that occurred, and are still occurring. We lost a lot of the greatests this year, and at a point they were one after the other.

Then there's all this crazy family shit that happened since the year started. I'd rather not get into that.

Then the realizations about friends and what friendship really means.

Then the self-realizations regarding my past and how it's affecting my present.

Then all the good things came rolling in (i.e. the trip to SF, the jobs, the internship, the work, the inspiration, etc) and also the equally bad to even things out.

This is also the year that I've plunged deeper into my debts, and my accounts will be (or have already been) reported as delinquent and affect my already slowly-diminishing credit.

And it leaves me to wonder...

Where are the sugardaddies when you need them?

-hannahrenee.

craziness...let's bask in it.

Written on October 16, 2009

It's almost close to a month since my last update, and things have been a nonstop craziness since then. Everything's just coming up in really weird timing and I just don't know what to do with myself; to be honest, I'm at my lowest point, and I'm not liking my current position one bit. If I were a weaker person, I'd be out on a Virginia Tech rampage, just straight shooting motherfucks. Of course, it'll be dubbed the Cal State rampage (and you thought it's always sunny in California).

So, so close. But I'm not like that. I'm too sane in my insanity to pull a massacre like that.

School especially has been driving me up the wall, and confidence in my procrastination isn't really helping my situation either. Being an English major is...no joke. I mean, I always had an idea of how hard it would be, but goddamn. My insomnia, which has been nearly overcome during the summer, has come back with a rage. Pretty soon, I'm going to look like a vampire with red-rimmed, baggy eyes with dark circles under them.

Family's...not that great. Insanity is hitting everyone as I'm typing this right now. I don't know what's worse... Shit hitting the fan, or me shrugging nonchalantly as voices and tension are rising higher in the next room. It's all fucked up.

Friends...well, human relationships in general aren't always easy. But I'm grateful for the people in my life, and this issue is the lightest of issues in my life right now, lol.

In retrospect, as much I say that I hate drama...I'm actually glad that shit hits the fan every once in a while. It makes you appreciate the good moments even more so than ever.

I guess...I don't know. I need go to out and clear my head. I'm gonna try my best to avoid cigarettes, 'cause we all know that I've been smoking one too many of those.

-hannahrenee.

questions.

Written on September 18, 2009

I had an interesting conversation with a good friend of mine about what we expect from our potential boyfriends, whoever they may be. While we were talking, I couldn't help but to realize that we each expected a lot from the opposite sex. For example, I find men who are tall (past the 5'9" mark) attractive. They don't have to look like a modern day Adonis, but a good-looking man will spark my interest (y'all can't deny your own superficiality. Then again, I have weird taste). Intelligence, confidence, spontaneity, tolerance, ambitions, independence, initiative, and humility are what I look for when it comes to personality.

But what about them? What do men expect out of us women? Is it just entirely boobs&ass and a willingness to provide the sexual at the speed of light? (C'mon guys, tell us something we don't know.)

Just a thought.

-hannahrenee.

september babies and realizations

Written on September 10, 2009

So many of my friends celebrate their birthdays at around this time of year, and if someone wanted me to, I could probably fill everyday of the month of September with the names of my friends. There's my mom's birthday on the third, then Sharon's birthday on the fourth. John's birthday on the sixth, then Septian's birthday on the seventh...etc etc. I myself celebrate my birthday in September, and I think we should all get together and throw a big party.

As I'm drawing closer and closer to the consummation of my 20th year, I've come to realize a lot of things about myself through many conversations with friends. Things I wouldn't normally sit down and think about without some kind of topic of conversation sparking the initiative to do so.

I've realized that I am a very jaded individual, leading me to become somewhat apathetic to the things around me, all of which stems from my experiences of my childhood.

This is the first time I've publicly come out and said this, but I feel like it's something I have to do in order to cope and eventually get over it. When I was six years old, I was once molested by a strange man who came into the day care center I was in, and repeatedly molested and raped through trickery by my then-eleven year old cousin, who was staying with my grandmother at the time.

I didn't know it for what it was until I was until I was in the ninth grade. It was during health class, when a speaker from the local rape treatment center came to talk to the students. Realization hit me like a baseball bat, and I've never been able to stop thinking about it in the back of my mind. Before then, I didn't think much of it. I knew that what happened to me wasn't normal, but at the same time, I didn't really think it was something so atrocious and so...incestual.

I fell into an angry depression, feeling that I've been robbed of my own normality and innocence before I could even get a chance to experience it for myself. My dad's abuse didn't help with my situation at all, and I spiraled down into a deeper hole than the one I was previously in.

Of course, I didn't tell anyone about what happened to me. How could I? I was full of shame and just hated everything in the world. Not only that, but I was considered the failure of my family, while the same cousin who raped me was highly regarded because of all his academic achievements, despite his "sad family situation". (His dad cheated on his mom and left her for his mistress. So what? I was getting beat with baseball bats and golf clubs, fuck what he went through.)

Anyway, during my depression, all I could think of was the strange man shoving his tongue inside my mouth, and my cousin shoving his ugly male organ inside my vagine. I say it with a little humor now, but back then it drove me absolutely insane.

Finally, around the summer of my junior year, I told my mom about what happened to me, and what crushed me more was her reaction. She wouldn't express anger, and she looked out for her family instead (my cousin is from the maternal side of my family), telling me the words "Don't tell your father about this."

I was crushed. I mean, honestly, how would you feel when something as serious as this happened to you, and you tell your mom, only to hear her say "Keep your mouth shut about it."?

That brought me to a much worse state. My dad eventually found out and wanted to kill my cousin, but at the same time he told me to forgive my cousin because "he was young and he didn't know what he was doing".

Imagine how crazy I went. To this day, I'm a little insane because of all the fucked up shit that happened to me.

Anyway, I eventually pulled myself out of my depression, disgusted at how I was drowning in self-pity, and decided to move on. But what happened to me still affects my greatly. I am immediately suspicious of men, which is ironic because I mostly have male friends, and I am terrified of them. And I am terrified of sex, so I am still a virgin (though, technically I'm not).

What gets me more is the fact that there are a lot of girls who have stories similar to mine. It's disgusting how...ugh. Fucking men and their inability to reason once they're horny enough.

At the same time, this experience has shaped me into who I am. Although I'm not the ideal kind of person, I'm glad I'm not the overly naive and optimistic type. This made me stronger, and I now appreciate the ability to stay level-headed through any "crisis" that comes my way, because, honestly, I've been through the worst.

I just hate talking about what happened when I was younger, not because I think it's a burden, but because I hate the changed attitudes of people. They suddenly start to pity me and offer words of comfort and all that jazz. That's not what I want. What I want from me telling you is that you understanding my character a bit better, and understanding the reasons why I am the way I am. I don't need your sad eyes and patronizing tone of voice. That's the last thing I want.

In any case, I'm getting better, and learning to open up a little more each day. I just need to work on forgiving my cousin, not because I want to forget what happened, but because I feel that it would give me a sense of closure. But I'm not ready to do that just yet.

-hannahrenee.