trash by taylor

it is not normal to cry into a sandwich about nuclear war: 2017 (so far) line-by-line.

bulletjournal

I am currently reading Theft By Finding by David Sedaris and have been incredibly inspired by his ability to keep a journal for a quarter century. I don’t know if I will ever write for this long, but I’m excited by the prospect. 2017 has been a year for me– I decided to document some bullets of my own journal writing because I’m always trying to preserve my fascination with the concept of time. It is the last day of September so I’m not blaming myself for lack of growth or anything; I’m excited by the prospect of more to come.

Continue reading “it is not normal to cry into a sandwich about nuclear war: 2017 (so far) line-by-line.”

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trash by taylor

The One Where I Got A Tinder And Then Realized I Was On A Break From My Real Feelings

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I’m very behind on my blog and very sorry about it! I don’t really know how to start this post, but I feel like that is a pretty good summary of the month I’ve had. I’m feeling really behind on absolutely everything, and I’m feeling pretty sorry about it as if there is an expiration date on when you are “supposed” to catch up on the internet and other miscellaneous happenings in your life.

The biggest news of the past month is that I FINALLY graduated college! Everyone goes to school at their own pace, of course, but I was feeling really odd about going an extra year when most of my friends have graduated and gone to ~bigger~ adventures in life. I know I’ll eventually get to whatever I decide to define my ~big adventure~, but I know I am overthinking this particular post college endeavor. Overthinking most every aspect in my life is action I consider to be a frequent activity of mine, which brings me to my spontaneous decision made over the holiday weekend, which turned out to be a mistake in what I’ve deemed to be “The Age of Taylor Overthinking Absolutely Everything.”

I signed up for Tinder. (uh oh.)

Don’t get me wrong- I have heard accounts from friends and internet neighbors of Tinder being a very good experience. However, these Tinder success stories are generally from people who feel as if they are emotionally ready to make the leap to swiping right. Friends, let me tell you, I’ve been pretty sad over the past few months and I’ve gone more into detail of my struggles in previous posts, but I have not made peace with most of these struggles. I am having a very hard time with the idea I am supposed to have it ALL figured out by my college graduation and at the point of approaching my 24th birthday. In addition to work, financial, and personal success, I’ve felt various amounts of social pressure to “get out there” six months after the break up of a four year relationship, as a form of “having it all.”

Downloading an app might sound like a pretty mindless action but it turns out, that is where the “mindless” aspect stopped. When I started to swipe through photos of dudes who were located near me in all of their filtered splendor, I started to feel incredibly insecure over the photos I had chosen for my profile. What if they could see all of the chin hair I struggle to frequently maintain?

When having conversations about Tinder with friends while I was in a relationship, I honestly felt turned off by the app’s vapid nature; you’re only exposed to photos unless you both “match” with each other, to which you can read a person’s bio and have access to their profile. I don’t consider myself to be someone who struggles with words, but writing my Tinder bio felt like brain surgery and decorating my middle school locker; it felt like I was orchestrating the most complex lie ever; I was definitely not ready to reveal to anyone that I sometimes delete Facebook posts when I have the feeling I’m not being witty enough. My ability to be somewhat witty is one of my favorite parts about myself; I felt as if I had to choose one defining characteristic about myself and turn it up to eleven.

Nothing I put in my bio was a lie. I talked about my love for cats and black coffee, and how I considered myself to be good at puns and telling jokes, but I’m not ready to reveal to anyone that jokes and puns have gotten me through a huge bout of depression. I made a Beatles reference and I think some people thought it would be a good conversation starter. I’m not ready to start arguing about whether “Abbey Road” or “Let It Be” was considered the final Beatles album with anyone except my ex boyfriend. That is OKAY.

I talked to a few nice guys. I really did, but I was always too thrown by the “what are you looking for” question. I know they were referring to the reason why I was using Tinder, but I couldn’t help but feel like a fraud because I’m NOT READY for any of the reasons why people use Tinder. And by god, THAT IS OKAY. One guy in particular I really enjoyed talking to wanted to know if I blogged about weird encounters I had with “Tinder dudes.” I knew what he meant, but I couldn’t imagine doing that. We’re all trying to engage with other people and make good impressions, so something I consider to be “weird” or confusing might just be how people make conversation- totally normal human interaction, and I am not comfortable admitting to this person that I’ve gone to some great lengths to avoid human interaction because I have felt very sad.

I’m still figuring out the next step in my life especially since I’ve just graduated and I’m about to embark on a new transition of having to buy more blazers instead of the preferred black t-shirt. My biggest goal is to finally figure out that it is FINE to be figuring out what you are comfortable with and whether or not you are READY to embark on something new in life. I still need to write in my journal when I’m in the middle of crying over my ex boyfriend. I still need to listen to Marshall Crenshaw’s “Whenever You’re On My Mind” when I’m dealing with my feelings over my first crush since I was in high school. I’m not really okay right now, but I know I will be later on. If I need to take time for myself and watch “Legally Blonde” over and over while eating McDonalds, I’m going to do it.

I texted my best friend this morning and told him about my decision to delete my Tinder. I called it a “world I was not ready for.” It could be at some point in time- I won’t rule it out. I’m sure it’s a really life changing app with the ability to have amazing potential for someone, but my brief swipe with it has taught me to remember that I have to take care of myself and remember that I, myself, have amazing potential to move forward and make positive changes and make room for some good and engaging “Beatles vs. Stones” arguments (“Exile on Main St.” is my favorite, but I can really get behind the cheesiness of the “She Was Hot” video.)

 

 

 

 

poems

my light is always on-

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i wish you’d let me in

and i wish the days weren’t marked

by your words or thoughts and i’m wondering if you

find this as bothersome,

as my broken heart and waking up with it each day

 

confusion is marked by words of love

and words of hate, all dreamt in my own head,

but i’ll never turn my light off

i’m leaving it on for you-

to change the bulb or let it burn out

whatever you want

poems

i feel

i feel

somewhere in the ocean, the waves will wash a memory back into my reflection from the open window.

the one where you were laying in bed trying to muster the fake erotica my heart wanted.

as you “exhaled” on your e-cig “careful” not to set off the alarm in the dorm.

i feel

somehow it will come to life that i slept with my arms pressed over my head while the drunkenness wrestled with the fire alarm signaling the end of my 21st birthday, when you walked away.

i feel

sorry for the strangers who ever wondered what was wrong with the girl

who pretended to read books

something she used to do for good,

but she was crying about how you became her left limb and broke it.

you brought it home to your mother one sunday as an art project she will probably hang in your bachelor pad

while she tells you

jesus loves you

but NEVER the longtime girl without the crucified heart.

(02.11.17)

trash by taylor

connection

writing

(I’m going to be using the word “I” a lot here, but the subjects at hand may not directly apply to me personally. we’ll see).

Why do I strive so much to make a connection with people?

What does connection mean anyway? I’ve been thinking a lot about how we “connect” with people as a society. Last night I decided to delete my Facebook where I had close to 700 “friends” or “connections.” I decided to delete the page as a whole, because I made the assumption that removing individual people would take a deleting personally, (like I totally would. Oh my God, I hate it, but I know that you deleted me as a Facebook friend in 2012 because we had a crush on the same dude).

That is a complete and total assumption. I know that people have the choice to define their friendships. For me, many of my relationships take place online, because I split my time between Kentucky and Tennessee, and many of my friends have moved around since graduation of some sort. However, what is it that makes some people have the opposite opinion of virtual “friendships” like the ones formed on Facebook, not being classified as being “real” or “legitimate?” Why did I use quotation marks around the word “friend” when I gave someone an explanation for starting over on Facebook?

(This part is definitely about me).

In the single day that I’ve had my new Facebook, I’ve wondered about various people that I could recall out of my nearly 700 friend count, and if they would notice I had made a new profile. Would they wonder if I decided to single them out and choose not to “add” them as a friend? Can a simple notice be defined as a connection? I think about countless people on a daily basis, and think I have made enough of a connection to think about them. Many of these thoughts happen without any type of interaction. Obviously they have left an impression on me, so I personally define an impression as a connection.

There is also the whole sense of mutual interaction taking place in order to create a connection; when we’re applying this scenario to Facebook, we can define it as a “mutual friend” connection. The word “mutual” defines some sort of interaction or engagement; two people have clicked with the intention of sharing something, so therefore you’ve made a connection.

This particular viewpoint has sent me into a tailspin in the aftermath of getting rid of my previous Facebook profile. What does it mean to connect with someone in this day and age of social media explosion? I can send you links over Facebook messenger until I’ve tore my fingers off and my Facebook algorithm has been severely thrown off. Does that even matter unless the other person acknowledges the link? Our seemingly collective social reliance on “likes” and page views seem to think so. After years of social media use and reliance for my daily connection to the world, I am absolutely 100% dependent on the so called phenomena of “likes” and unfortunately see them as an indication that a connection has been made. You liked my selfie? Boom, we’re connected enough for me to tell you that there is a scar on my nose from when I almost broke it in 8th grade.

Since when has a number of “likes” on something become a defining factor of connection? Simply publishing or sharing something on social media is done for the purpose of wanting to make some type of impression. I have this blog because I want to write about my life experiences in order to make a connection with someone. My hope is to find some sort of mutual understanding. If you’ve gone through the same experience, I want to know about it! This notion is the honest reason as to why I am so bothered by my strong desire for mutual interaction. Why is acknowledgement via the internet so much better than a simple look or read? I don’t understand why the addition of the “like” button or the series of Facebook reaction emojis make social interaction so much more authentic, and why it seems to have such a strong presence in our relationships, whether they are virtual or in our reality.

Sometimes, we might not have a choice in our dependence on virtual connection. For two years, I was in a long distance relationship where our interactions were 75% virtual, and while it was difficult at times for me to not be able to physically touch my partner or to smell his neck that always smelled faintly of oranges, I never thought our relationship was any less authentic because our connections were almost exclusively virtual. I’m wondering if this is the reason why I feel so personal about virtual relationships or the idea of something shared. I’m probably still going to ask the question “what defines sharing” for awhile, but I’m just going to share this with all of you for now.