Hard

It is so hard.
To pretend like you care about what's going on;
what's being taught, what's being said,
who's joking about what.
To pretend you don't want the earth
to open up and swallow you whole.

It is so hard to pretend to have your shit together
when you're falling apart inside.
To not burst into tears
in a crowded room.

It is so hard to not feel like you're falling.
To close up the gaping hole in your chest.
To not want to curl up in a ball
and sob.

It is so hard to laugh like something amuses you
when you're only doing it to temporarily feel a little better.
To smile like you're glad to be here,
alive,
when you're really not.

It is so hard to open your mouth to say something,
even if it's only one word,
like "Okay" or "Yes" or "No".
To keep a placid expression
so no one knows
that it's taking your all to not throw yourself off the balcony.

It is so hard to not fill up,
with self loathe.
And want to cry out
for help because you
clearly need it.

It is so hard to breathe,
because all your body wants
is to live, even though
your soul doesn't.

It is so hard to stay alive. 

Perfect Life AU

I'm bored. And depressed. And writing this made me feel a lot better. Why am I defending myself. Also, I forgot to mention, Max is Max Irons. Also, this feels like a self insertive fanfiction.

xxxxxxxx

I furiously type away at my laptop. I'm just wrapping up on my latest book. My phone rings. It is my assistant. I pick up. "Yeah, I'm almost done. Stop checking on me every few hours, I'm not procrastinating" I say, answering. "I know, that's not what I'm calling about." she says. "Oh. What is it, then?" I ask. "The movie. Starts shooting next week. Remember that? That thing that is actually happening?" she asks. "Yeah. I remember. What of it?" I'm also producing it. I think to myself. "Tickets to Belfast. I booked them. Shall I email you the details?" she asks. "Yeah. Is that all you're calling about?" I ask her. She's usually more efficient than this. "Yeah. That's it. I'm just excited, okay?" she says. I laugh and say"I am too-" when I hear the door unlock. "Yo listen, I'll talk to you tomorrow, email me the details. Bye" I say and hang up.
I get up to go greet my boyfriend, Max. "Hey babe," I say before I kiss him. "I missed you." he says, mid-kiss. "I missed you too. How was Albuquerque?" I ask. "Desert-like." He says, shrugging. Laughing, I kiss him again. He smells of cologne, spearmint, and cigarettes. "You really have to stop smoking." I say. No matter how much he tries to mask it, I can still tell. "Meh." He shrugs, heads to the kitchen, and opens the fridge. "Why is there nothing here?" He calls. "I was in writer mode. I don't need food when I'm in writer mode." I call back and head back to my laptop. I need to start editing tomorrow. As I start typing again, I feel Max leaning on the back of my chair. "You would think when you've been away for a month, your girlfriend would show a little more love than this." He says and reaches out to close my laptop. "Hey, I was writing!" I say and turn to look at him. He leans in to kiss me, and just as things start getting heated up, the doorbell rings.
"It's me!" A voice with an irish accent says. "Ugh, cockblock." Max mutters, and we continue making out for a few more minutes before we hear more knocks on the door. "I know you're home, open up!" Robert says. Sighing, I open the door. "What do you want, Robbie?" I say. "HI. I wanted to ask Max if he wanted to grab a couple of beers." he replies. "Yes! I do." Max says from across the room. I turn to look at him, exasperated. "Are you sure you're not the one cockblocking yourself?" I ask him. "And plus, aren't you tired?" I add. "Well, yeah, but..." he trails off. "Cockblo-Oh. OH. Ohhh. Oh, shit." I hear Robert say, behind me. "And you," I say to Robert. "You're supposed to be MY best friend, not his." "We did go out a couple of times, when he wasn't here. Don't you have a book to write or something?" he says. "Don't you have a movie to shoot?" I say, imitating his tone. "Nope. Robert Sheehan : Currently Unemployed." he replies with a grin. "You look way too happy for someone who's unemployed." I say. He makes a face at me and asks Max "You comin'?" "Yeah." Max says, grabbing his coat. "Wait." I say to Robbie and close the door on his face. "Okay, then." I hear from the other side of it.
"You just got baaaack. And we were in the mood." I whine to Max. "I know, love. But now you have time to finish your book. Don't worry, I'll be back soon. We'll still be in the mood." He says with his lopsided smile. I realize how much I missed watching him smile; the way one side of his mouth goes up before the other. He leans in and gives me a kiss, but I don't let him go. A few moments later, we hear a frustrated sigh from the other side of the door.I open the door and push Max towards Robbie. "Here. Have him." I say, with mock-annoyance. "See you later" Robbie says to me, as they walk away.
I close the door and head back to the bedroom. I lie on the bed, close my eyes, and sigh. So I'm alone, in this big apartment. So what. Things could've been worse. I am content. 

Home Is Where The Heart Is

So this morning, I was driving to college and I was thinking about life, as you do. I stopped at a traffic signal, and while I was waiting for the light to change to green, I looked around and was struck by the foreignness of it all. But at the same time, it was really familiar. Buses covered in advertisements written in a language that I could read passed by me, yet I couldn't quite register what they were trying to say. A sense of not-belonging just hit me. I have been living in this city all my life. I have been driving to college on the same road for the past two months. But everything seemed so foreign. I knew where all the roads led, but they felt new, and different, and weird.
They say "Home is where the heart is." I do not know where my heart is, but I know it's not here. Will I ever get to where my heart is? Will I ever feel like I belong? Will a place ever not feel foreign to me?  Only time will tell. 

Update

I did a review on Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters but I just re-read it and it's so bad so I'm not publishing it.
Maybe it's because the movie was so bad.
In other news : The Mortal Instruments : City of Bones was amazing. Too amazing to put into words. 

Relationship vocabulary (This is probably not an apt title)

You know what I don't understand? The whole "mine" concept. I'm sitting here listening to Baby Came Home by The Neighbourhood and he says "If you found her, even you would know, she's mine." And like, I don't understand it. She's a person. Not an object. Even songs where girls go "That boy is mine" or "You're mine." No, he's not. No one belongs to anyone. "He is mine and I am his" is what Tris says about Tobias in the Divergent series. No, he's not. Mine/His/Hers is so restrictive. You don't belong to anyone. You don't even belong to your parents, after a certain age. You belong to you.
Another thing I don't get is when people say "He/She completes me." You're not supposed to let someone complete you. You're supposed to complete yourself. You're not supposed to feel incomplete just because you don't have a someone. He's supposed to be an added bonus. He's supposed to be that extra oxygen tank. I don't know what that metaphor was.
I'm saying this now, but I'll probably call my boyfriend "mine" and I'll probably feel like he completes me,when this boyfriend exists. Or not. Probably won't. We'll see.