people get mad at honesty and punctuality. it isn’t my fault that i value those two things. guess who’s going to get a job? me, not you.
i should probably delete this. it wouldn’t matter.
Anonymous asked: Are you single?
Anonymous asked: do you believe in giving people second chances?
I swear someone already asked me this…
Anonymous asked: Hey. Has anyone ever told you that you've got something that no one else really ever shows? You've got spirit. You're a fighter-born to kick ass and be your own person. I don't know about most people, but I respect that post down there. You seem to be the girl who wears a suit of armor and doesn't let people in very often, and it takes a world of self-confidence to publish your vulnerabilities. When you say the world doesn't care, remember that the world is really just the people that care.
thank you, faceless person in the flower backdrop. i do what i do no matter what anyone tells me. i believe there are people who care, but the world is not made up of just them. it is a mixture of good, apathetic, evil, and everywhere in between. i actually love people easily, but i dont let it show because i dont think alot of people can accept the care that i am willing to give because they lack the mental capacity to understand it. i dont think im better than anyone else and i dont think anyone is better than me. i just wish for the world that everyone could be honest and loyal above anything else. people that lie and leave arent lazy, they are actually actively making up their minds and taking action just to be negative. it’s alot easier to be honest and loyal and living by those two things doesnt mean you have to be a straight edge religious nut job because you can balance out fun and a little wickedness, but still be in great moral standing. i guess im ranting about nothing, but ive just lost faith in people for the most part and all i know is that i’ll always have myself. my motto in life is: love yourself because you’re the only one you ultimately have to live with your entire life. its nice to see that people see what i see for a change though, and a compliment never hurt anyone. i think. thank you for that.
i cant believe im on this. and that i posted that awesome story on here and no one gives a shit.
Anonymous asked: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?
i see lot’s of people when i go outside, but right now im in my room and there’s no one to see but myself. in a mirror.
there has only been one year in my life in which i struggled with my identity. One year that i did not want to be who i was, or rather i wanted to be everyone else. You see, I was an utter terror way back in the elementary days and disregarded everyone from my teachers to my grandparents. I was the kid that poured go-gurt in little assholes’ hair when they decided to mouth off to me. I was the kid that told my poor unappreciated second grade teacher to shove it when he tried to make me do my work. I was the kid that climbed the highest bar on the playground and sat there in solitude staring angrily out at the others not wondering why i was misunderstood, but wondering why the world was full of idiots. Things haven’t changed much since then considering i’m still the sarcastic, cynical little demon trying to hide the fact that i have a conscience from the world, but there is always the one exception to everything, isn’t there?
A new school, new people, new pressures were presented to me the moment i stepped through the gates back into the public school scene since i had taken a hiatus the past three years to try some catholic schooling. turns out the whole one class per grade thing was beyond boring and i wanted to try my luck with the true ruffians in my seemingly more mature state that comes with being a 12 year old middle schooler. of course, everyone in my grade had started attending this piece of shit middle school together the year before, making my chances of fitting in with a group slim, but i was, and still am, the kind of girl that never walks away from a challenge.
The only person i knew was my childhood friend that was a year younger than me, so in the grand scheme of things that did jack shit because that may as well have been a complete social class separation. I could do this was all i told myself as i nervously walked myself into core class (which was this strange combination class of history and english. Kind of a lame way around things if you ask me). I don’t remember any of the good parts of middle school because the bad parts were traumatizing enough to push any trace of happiness from those days out of my mind forever, but I remember making my first friend. Her name was daisy and she coincidentally lived on the same street as my grandma. It’s strange the way the world works sometimes. A few days later, I met another friend, Ali, whom little did i know would be a key instgator of my rare lack of self confidence in this particular point of my life. I was just happy I had made not one, but two friends in this foreign land of gossip and popularity bordered by back-stabbing and broken hearts.
I remember going shopping for the monumental school picture outfit with my mother. i HAD to get an outfit from abercrombie and fitch or else i might as well wear a sign everyday to school that says i am an unfashionable loser do not interract with me, or so i thought. The smell of that store burns my nostrils to the point of tears every time i walk by it, but back then i could have lived off of oxygen infused with that scent simply because it was the iconic smell of cool. I ended up walking out of that overpriced and overrated store with a pink cotton top that went slightly off the shoulders and a satin floral print skirt with a strip of ribbon across it housing a rhinestone square on it. I look at that picture every year and laugh my face off because i remember how awesome i thought i was, but in reality it was one of the ugliest outfits i had ever purchased up to that point. that’s saying alot considering my ecentric attitude in childhood and my knack for unique fashion, as i like to call it. I paired it with cheap metal circle earrings that were painted the same pink as that historic shirt. I found the school picture just to confirm the hideousness of the earrings and my face in general and ,boy, was I a looker. not.
On top of trying to dress in the popular cloth of the day, I was fucking fat. Well, not jaba the hut fat, but definitely rocking the circle face and matching potbelly. Not to mention, This was the year before i got my braces put on, so there was serious big, buck, and slightly gapped chompers poking out of my mouth under a tight lipped semi smile that i had practiced in the mirror for hours before those perilous 30 seconds in front of the camera. No ammount of tan or makeup was going to make me look desireable to any hot dude that shared the school of satan with me. But then, I thought it couldn’t hurt to try. Let’s just say my baby fat was in full force that year and i avoided mirrors just as much as any guy in school glanced away from me. All but one because there’s always that one that has to give the ugly girl hope showing he’s naturally the rarest breed of human being: nice. His name was Sean and the world hadn’t seen a more devastating crush in it’s entire existence until I layed eyes on him. I don’t remember what he said or what compelled him to talk to a failure of nature like me, but all i know is that the swoosh of his blond hair and the genuine shine of that smile was all i decided to live for that day. i want to punch myself in the face remembering how sorry of a human being i was that year, but it’s all in the process i guess. emo was in then, so he wore tight ass pants,which he admitted were girl pants, and t-shirts. My favorite shirt was his quarter sleeve baseball tee. It was black and white and it looked so good and unique in that style because i remember never seeing an emo wear it before. He was my friend, but of course i dreamt of more and wrote about it in my journal that was the best friend i could ever have.
Little time had passed and my two best friends were at war. Daisy gave me the ultimatum of choosing her or ali to spend the trying days of middle school life with and I made my choice right away. I guess I wasn’t as spineless as I thought because I chose Ali, my logic being that a true friend would never make their bestie have to choose. I’m not saying it was the wrong choice, but hell did i experience some shit because of it. Who knows how life would have been down the other path, but i’m grateful everyday for taking the hard road. A whole new world was then introduced to me, starting with “the field” and all of its inhabitants. Ali ushered me into a motley crew of emos and smart-asses, with personalities bigger than their brains. I slinked around in silence for a week or two, trying to take it all in and assess how to be cool with this group of people. I would classify them as the kids who didnt care about being popular, therefore making them extra cool and i didnt know if i could pull that attitude off just yet. I was nervous to be me and to say anything at all, God forbid what came out of my mouth was lame or weird.
What i said during those days is a mystery to me. All I recollect is the way i felt and looking in on what friendship and group behavior was like, wondering if i was doing it well enough or if i was just the stupid kid that they let tag along. I went on all year like that, trying to play a part that wasn’t neccessarily mine to play, but what seemed the right thing to do. I went from abercrombie to emo to impress a yellow haired boy that thought i was a weirdo and was too nice to admit it. There was one day that i can say is one of the most scarring days of my life and it all came down to one little sentence. “He thinks you look like a fat beaver.” It was never confirmed if it was just a communication mishap or actually the words from the horses mouth, but I was told that the boy of my dreams had said those terrible, heart sinking words about none other than me. i can’t recall if i started balling on the bench under the tree immediately after hearing it, or if i had enough sense to run to the bathroom and cry my eyes out in the stall for fear of embarrasment, but i know my world had ended and there was major water works regardless of where they had fallen. My heart had been shattered and my life seemed to have lost all meaning. All the hope had drained out of my being and i was hung up to dry like a stained cleaning rag. I didn’t think i would survive that one, but i never had the courage or maybe the lack of smarts to cut away that pain. I could never make the blade break the skin and this incident was one of the two times that i had tried, both failing and leaving me feeling like an idiot for thinking it in the first place. Only people with attention issues cut themselves, a girl named Sam personified that belief for me. Ironically, she was the girl dating the boy I loved at the time of the earth shaking words that were revealed to me about my already hated self. Big titted Sam with an ass to match had transferred to our school of shit from buffalo or some other mysterious land that none of us kids had been to. In hindsight I can’t blame them, but the guys were on her shit like butter on corn the minute they saw her. Shit, did that girl bring around heaps of drama? Yes, yes her and her devil lady lumps did. She liked to gossip and she loved to flaunt her ass-ets. And along with every other boy in school, she caught the eye of my beloved, which was a problem, but i was too chicken shit to do anything about it, so i did the next best thing. I became close with this bitch that had stolen my man just to hear pathetic things like how kissing him felt like and how he treated her. She said he was a really good kisser which gave me a strange mixture of jealousy and excitement, again with the hope that maybe one day that could be me. Was my head in the clouds or what? One day she came to me, and really the rest of the group because of the drame and gossip it caused, about the cuts on her body. Little cuts on her thighs and wrists that went un noticed until she made me look at what she claimed to be scratches from nightmares on the back of her neck. honestly, who gives that lame of an excuse just to create drama? Then she was the center of the planet, everyone asking her what was wrong and telling her she could talk to them and all kinds of bullshit. She cried and told some complete bullshit story about her home life, which i would be completely sympathetic about, but she was lying like it was her job. she had no reason to be crying or cutting and we both new it. she solely did it one day for the attention. I’m not saying cutters are idiots, because it is a real problem and those poor kids do need love and help, but this girl gave the kids that had real issues a totally different look. It was like the boy who cried wolf, which made me question more people’s sanity. I have an uncanny way with telling what’s real and what’s fake and most of the kid’s were telling the truth about their cutting problems and i felt deeply sorry for them, but this girl lied through her teeth to kids that actually cared about her. That was what i couldn’t stand, but again i had no backbone and ended up comforting her instead of confronting her. I remeber being on AIM and asking sean about it. We talked alot on that because i was an obsessive stupid schoolgirl and he was trying to be my friend even though i was borderline creep festival. He seemed concerned, but i just wanted him to break up with the bitch already.
Valentine’s day came and everyone had someone. Everyone but me. I’ve never been so upset about being alone on Valentine’s day until that year. It must have been something to do with the fact that my self esteem was at level -20 at that point, but then I just wanted to die that day. I even gave people valentine’s cards, receiving nothing in return. Why was I so disgusting and why did I have to be isolated from all of the happiness and fun that everyone else was feeling around me? Now I know it was meant to give me super mental strength later, but it sucked at the time. Most days sucked. Most days I wanted to crawl under a rock and die or maybe get a body transplant so I could fit in and be adored by my peers, which was a terrible thing to think. I hit the wall of depression and climbed that stupid thing for the rest of the year, not remembering specific things, but the feeling of wanting a painless death instead of the life I was living. Something had to shake me out of that extreme beyond emo stage or else i could have done something stupid.
You bet your ass something woke me up from being a pathetic lost human being that let everyone step on her because she was too lost to remember all the gumption she once had. That something was what Ali said to Kelly, a mutual friend, and to everyone else in our group on the field towards the end of the school year. It must have been during the last week of school while Kelly and I were becoming tighter, leaving Ali cautious about our bond. Ali said, “come here, sparky! come, on!,” in the tone that an owner gives their dog, which confused me. A few seconds later, she explained to everyone in earshot that she should start calling me sparky and treating me like a dog because i was her bitch. And that was it. I snapped. I finally remembered the hard ass that i used to be and put my damned foot down. I wish I had put it on her face, but that was pushing it for this renewed sense of self-worth. I told her off and started becoming better friends with Kelly, whom advised me on the matter at hand. I grew into my own again and was ready to rediscover myself that summer.
Ali ended up going mental and gave Kelly and I no choice but to break away from her insanity. Eighth grade I was back to my old strength and my true personality. I didn’t give a shit if people thought I was weird and I could care less how many friends I had. I sang songs on the field, I told sean i was in love with him (which didn’t work in my favor, but we remained friends, which was good with me), I think i even tried out for the school play. I got sick that year and lost all of my baby fat, turning me into your average brace-faced brunette 13 year old with something that no one else possessed yet. I found myself, my identity that I had forgotten that year and no one was ever going to take that away from me again.
I haven’t seen Kelly in a while, but facebook tells me she’s doing good in her own way and same with Ali. Tragically, my first full-blown crush died last year in a terrible accident, but before he died, we talked and had a funny converstation about those strange times during seventh grade. He even invited me to a few parties in high school. I’ll never regret telling him that I loved him, even if it was obsessive tween puppy love, because I’m glad he knew that he was loved by me as well as everyone else he impacted during his life. When I die, I’d be lucky to have even half of the amount of people that miss him daily.
I’ve been through a decent ammount of shit mines in my day and I’m only 20 years young. All of the experiences, good or bad, have chiseled some rough edges away from who i am, but they will never change the person that i have always been. i will never go back to doubting my individuality and why i do things the way I do. I will never again try to fit in and try to make someone love me. I will never again be lost because I was blessed with the strength that is a beacon to the weak whom are wandering and questioning themselves. I will always be hard-headed and open minded at the same time, spirited and realistic, and sarcastic and cynical down to the day I take my last breathe. Everyone will know what I stand for and who I am when my name is said. Caitlin Marie Viar will always be a force to be reckoned with.
“The split in 1993 was during the filming of Ed Wood and there were days he would come crying, I felt so bad. I asked him why it happened but all he said was, ‘It wasnt her fault, it was mine.’ And when he met Kate in January of 94, it wasn’t the same as Winona. I felt weird to be around him like he wasn’t acting like Johnny anymore. It’s almost like Winona took Johnny’s soul, Johnny’s love.”
- Tim Burton
i could cry, oh my gosh…