If it Means A Lot to You

Unfortunate.

morgan kalajian — Fri, 24 Feb 2012 03:06:17 +0000

This week has been a roller coaster. Starting at an extreme high with soccer finally being over, a three day weekend, and my best friend’s 18th birthday party, and then dropping to an extreme low when I was walking out to my car to go to school Wednesday morning and I realized that my passenger window had been shattered. When I got closer, I noticed that my glove compartment was open along with my center console, my purse that is usually underneath my passenger seat was on the seat instead, my wallets were gone (one of which was empty so who cares), and there was glass everywhere. After calling the cops and filing a report I went to school, even though I only had one and a half classes left. After I had been home for like 20 minutes a new police officer came to my house with my wallet. My license, school I.D., and almost all of the giftcards were still there. The person had taken what cash I had which was like four dollars and all of my change except for 12 cents, a subway giftcard, movie tickets to regal, and a visa giftcard that says it has 5o dollars on it but it really only has 2 dollars left, so sucks for them. I left pretty soon after that for Down Town Disney to see a concert at the House of Blues and by the time I got home my window was fixed and it was like it never even happened. It still doesn’t even seem real that someone came to my house (which is at the end of a cul-de-sac) and broke into my car (which was on my driveway) and nobody heard or saw anything. What pisses me off about the whole thing is that they found my wallet laying in front of someone’s planter next to their driveway and right next to my wallet was the screwdriver that the asshole used to break into my window, and the cop showed no interest at all in trying to get a fingerprint off of it to figure out who did it. AND my neighbor leaves her purse in her car all the time and her driver door doesn’t even lock and my other neighbor had a shit ton of expensive equipment in his truck and the person didn’t even bother trying to steal from them. This makes everyone seem to think that it was someone that knows me and knew that I had my purse under my seat, but I sure hope not because it would suck to think you were friends with someone and then have them turn around and do something as shady as that to you. Well, whoever it was I hope that they’re satisfied and that it was worth it! Faggot.

But luckily I’m about to end the week with another high when I leave tomorrow for Cal City! I am so excited to get away from everyone and everything here and spend the weekend with my closest friends in the dirt. Dirt bikes, rangers, and quads are all I need right now. CAN’T WAIT!

He’s Just Not That Into You.

morgan kalajian — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 03:57:15 +0000

If he’s not calling you.
If he’s not texting you.
If he’s looking for other girls to date.
If he’s not taking you out on dates.
If he’s not asking you to be is girlfriend.

Then it’s because he doesn’t want to.

Even if he’s kissing you.
Even if he’s letting you sleep in his bed with him.
Even if he’s cuddling you at night.
Even if he gets jealous when you talk about other guys.

If he wanted to be with you, then he would be. But he’s not.

And he’s a fool.

,

morgan kalajian — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 06:43:55 +0000

If there’s anything I’ve learned from my past relationships, it’s that the best way to not get your heart broken is to pretend like you don’t have one.

&%@#

morgan kalajian — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 06:07:45 +0000

FUCK soccer. FUCK dumb ass bitches. FUCK people who treat you like shit because they think they’re better than you. FUCK my asshole of a coach. FUCK school. FUCK my family when they keep bugging me when all I want is to be left alone. FUCK being in shitty moods. FUCK chapped lips. FUCK nosy people that try to make me tell them things when I obviously don’t want to talk about it. FUCK people not being able to take a hint. FUCK when your friendship with someone gets weird because they start to develop feelings and they aren’t mutual. FUCK when the person you like doesn’t like you back. FUCK stressing out about a formal date. FUCK people who break promises. FUCK “friends” who keep trying to start pointless drama. FUCK fake people. FUCK not being able to go on my graduation trip because something stupid came up. FUCK MY LIFE. I’d rather be dead.

Did you know?

morgan kalajian — Mon, 09 Jan 2012 04:44:41 +0000

Did you know that after you die, your hair keeps growing? And your nails? And when you sneeze your heart stops for a millisecond? Did you know that every time I kissed him all I saw was you? Cheetahs are the fastest land animals? And know every time you called I had to lock myself in the bathroom to stop myself from answering? And that the only thing I ever loved more than you was you loving me? But I guess I loved to hate myself more. Because every time I breathed without you, it burned me. And whenever I said anything I had to bite my tongue to stop saying your name. And hurting was easier, easier than saying you were wrong. You were never wrong. Well, you were wrong. Wrong to believe I stopped loving you and wrong to keep loving me. Did you know that after seven years all the cells in your body are different? And now there’s nothing left in me of the little girl you fell in love with. And you were wrong when you said I was beautiful, when you said I was perfect. Because when you love something, you have a weakness. Can’t be perfect if you’re weak. So I guess you were wrong about that, too.

Maybe…

morgan kalajian — Thu, 05 Jan 2012 06:38:17 +0000

Not Like the Movies.

morgan kalajian — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 07:48:33 +0000

I don’t think I’ve ever been so aware of the fact that I’m alone. Every single close friend of mine is in a relationship, and all of them have the most amazing boyfriends. Don’t get me wrong, I like all of them and they’re all really great guys, but I want to slap every single one of them across the face for making me have these false hopes and expectations to be in a relationship like theirs, to have a boyfriend who will treat me like they treat my friends. I’m not new to being the only single one in the group, I’m sure that’s been the case for a long while now. But with the holidays that just passed and hearing about the beautiful Tiffany necklaces, spontaneous trips to Disney Land, and all the excitement and nervousness my friends got to experience trying to pick the perfect Christmas presents for their boyfriends is making me jealous as fuck. And don’t even get me started on New Years Eve. I was, once again, left to do nothing but awkwardly stand there as the ball dropped and wait for my annoyingly adorable couple friends to kiss each other and share yet another obnoxiously romantic experience together. All I want is for someone to hold my hand, to feel comfortable bringing me around his family, to kiss me just because he feels like it, and to surprise me with cute dates. But most of all I just want someone to want to be with me, is that too much to ask? Apparently.

Love Me Dead.

morgan kalajian — Sun, 04 Dec 2011 09:20:42 +0000

Which do I choose, the mirror or the real me? What happened to those days spent dancing beneath the surface of consciousness? I don’t dream, don’t live, don’t breathe anymore. In goes the oxygen, out comes numbers and chemical formulas. I’ve become a machine stepping over and out of my thoughts. The clouds move past me and leave me behind. I never knew you resented me this much. When did I start hoping this much? Pessimism made everything so much easier. I would be happy just to make it through a day alive. You stirred the surface, laughed, and pulled me out of my misery and now I’m dancing around your words and phrases, stumbling over the pauses that keep leading me on. Keeping me on my toes, I’m starting to lose my balance. But you don’t catch me, you’ve already found someone skinnier, someone prettier, someone smarter and kinder, and I’m gone. Flattened to the floor as you walk right over me and my shallow view of life and all of its crevices that turned out to be more like giant pitfalls. The walls have gotten so tall that I don’t even want to climb anymore, don’t even want to try anymore, to cry anymore. I’m okay being alone. Really. I’m just not myself right now. Just wait a moment and I’ll be back to my world of dust and destruction where I am nothing, and nothing is better than not existing.

It’s the worst

morgan kalajian — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 18:03:20 +0000

when you’re sitting in your room and you can hear the faint voices of your family floating down the hallway, all of which are saying mean things about you as if you’re not even there.

Haunted.

morgan kalajian — Wed, 16 Nov 2011 04:28:17 +0000

It’s been nearly 3 years now. I was just reading over my old journal entries from that time. Holy shit, that was an awful relationship. Two whole years of constant verbal abuse, self injury, and just down right bullshit. You made me feel like the biggest piece of shit in the universe. You made me think I was worthless, that nothing mattered but making your ass happy. When I think about all the bad shit, I really want to just go to your shitty house and piss all over it. But I’m a grown up now, so I’ll just shrug my shoulders and continue with my life. As much nonsense and abuse as we had, we had a ridiculous love. We had a crazy passion. And that took up two very long years of my life. You know, I fucking hate you sometimes. But as much as I hate you for what you did, I still wish you well. I still find myself wondering what you’re up to, hoping you’re not still a disgusting man whore tricking girls into falling for you. But I’m sure you still are. I still dream about you, far more than I would ever admit to anyone. And in all those dreams, it’s the same thing. I go to you to become friends again, and we go off merrily to one of my friends’ house and hang out, and just have a really great time. I guess I feel bad for you. Because you never had good friends, and probably never will. Your life sucks, man. But I would never actually reach out to you, just because I feel bad for you. Because you’re a professional mind fucker, and I can’t have that in my life ever again. And because I am finally genuinely happy now. I am so grateful I had such a horrible experience with you. Yeah, I said that. Grateful for your shit. Why? I had hit rock bottom, and had no where to go but up. I have seen utter sorrow and pain, I have nearly ended my own life because of the unspeakable mental horror you put me through. I write this not to make anyone feel sorry for me, or even make you feel bad (not that you’ll ever read this anyway.) I write this to get this off my chest, and maybe to even give other people some hope. If you are in an abusive relationship, there is hope. My very existence is proof of that. I can’t think of any great advice to give to you, I just want you to know that there’s at least one girl, one woman, who has made it through an incredibly shitty relationship. And you will be alright. Eventually. And to you, the mother fucker who put me through it all, I say thank you for the hard lesson learned. And good luck with your sorry life. I do wish you could just be a decent man, and we could be friends. But I know you better than that. Hang in there, man. Maybe some of these dreams I have of your happiness will reach you, and come to life for you. Either way, I’m still happy. I have my whole amazing life ahead of me. Whether you are there in my bright future or not doesn’t really concern me anymore. No matter how much your memory haunts me, you have no hold over me anymore.