We Shall Not Cease from Exploration

being flynn

toripaterson — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 04:18:13 -0500

stumble into something like contentment.

nobody feels like an adult. it’s the world’s dirty secret.

what do you do if both of you are lost and both of you end up in the same place waiting? we all need to create the story that makes sense of our lives, makes sense of our daily tasks, yet each night the doubts return

arnhold

toripaterson — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 04:15:31 -0500

our lives are made up of moments and the pauses in between them. the pauses make up the majority. the pauses let you reflect on the moments. it lets you appreciate life. but is pausing really living? or is it just waiting for another moment to live?

sharkwater

toripaterson — Wed, 20 Feb 2013 04:13:30 -0500

everything moved together, lived together, and died with a purpose.

end credits

toripaterson — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 22:47:00 -0500

i am a selfish person. that’s why i’m standing on the edge, the precipice of futility. i want to put a spin in my life. the twist you never saw coming.

i’ll let you in on a secret: i’ve figured out a way to live forever. it’s simple - die young. or die horribly. or both. so here i am, standing on the edge, the precipice of futility, sea foam frothing as the ocean’s mouth opens up to claim me.

at the end of my life, where have i been? what have i done? i am standing on the edge, the precipice of futility. i’m seeing the nothing, the stardust that i’m destined to become. i always imagined my life ending with 20 year old me, a freeze frame of my young smiling face, hair whipping around me as the rolling credits start and my picture fades to black. the perfect ending that isn’t really and ending. because that young girl is supposed to keep living after the credits end. but no one ever really knows if she does.

i spent all my life waiting to grow up. and now that i’m getting there, all i wanna do is go back to when it was simple. and the world was as small as my house. and the problems could be solved later because there would always be a later.

now is the time

toripaterson — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 22:43:04 -0500

i’m falling deeper and deeper into a place that screams victim. i pride myself on rising above all the drama when really i’m just as pathetic and probably even more lonely than anyone else. i don’t know who i am, i don’t know what i want to say.

now is the time to say something profound. to say anything that’s worth a little bit. but my mind goes blank. and maybe that’s what’s supposed to happen. maybe that nothing is the most profound thing we can think of.

we are here

toripaterson — Tue, 04 Dec 2012 22:38:58 -0500

everyone in the world is mundane, but at the same time wholly unique. Human existence contradicts itself; we are anonymous but also completely known to ourselves. authors reject the idea of mundane by making a novel personal. there is one main character with people that influence what they do. this is true in every novel. they make up an adventure that could mirror trials and tribulations in any person’s life. the simple act of writing glorifies the mundane and rejects any notion of ordinary. the contradiction is what makes our lives both beautiful and horrible. we are here, and yet we are not. you could compare anything to anything and it would work if you had enough evidence to back it up.

How (Not) to Cheat

toripaterson — Mon, 03 Dec 2012 23:04:00 -0500

You have a special someone. But he happens to already have a different special someone. So what do you do? How do you handle all of the confusing feelings that pop into your head?

I’ll start with our story to give you some insight into how to never do what we did. (And by our, I mean the three of us). Or maybe it’s some insight into how to pull off the perfect steal. The ending remains to be seen, even in my story.

Rule #1: Be ready, because he’ll come out of nowhere. And he will never leave.

His name was Luke. I was sitting in Spanish class, taking in the new faces, lingering on his for a little longer than all the others. Workout attire, decent muscles, blond hair blue-eyed guy.

It was the smile that got me hooked. He was a guy that smiled with his entire face. His eyes would crinkle up and his shoulders would chuckle. He was that guy. He would just pull you to him and you wouldn’t even know it until you were in too deep. It was that easy.

It started innocently enough. We would sit next to each other in class. You know, just casual compañeros en la clase de español.

One day, he asked me if I had heard of Calvin Harris. You know, the singer, obviously. You’ve never heard of him?! Well that’s dumb, I’ll make you a playlist. You gotta hear him he’s great. And that’s how it started.

Study sessions? Sure, that’s harmless. It’s for school. Invite me to a crew party? That’s totally fine, lots of people around.

Enter Amanda, Luke’s long-lost girlfriend. Where has she been? Oh, you know, she’s been around, he just never bothered to mention her when he would come over and share his music with me. Strike one. Even though neither of us knew it. (Mind you, there will be many more strikes than three.)

Text all the time with a potentially flirty inflection? It’s not crossing a line…yet.

“How was your day?”

“It was chill, but idk sometimes I just feel so stuck. Like what am I doing with my life? Where am I going? I’m sucking at school. I’m afraid I’m gonna end up like my parents. I’m afraid I’m gonna get stuck with my girlfriend. I need an out. Be my escape.”

Gladly, Luke. Gladly.

Rule #2: Everybody is guilty.

So I was that bitch that crossed that line. But in all fairness, he was that dick that crossed it with me.

And she is the poor clueless girlfriend that you can’t possibly hate because you just feel so bad for her.

Rule #3: Your past is never dead. It just fucks with your head the more you try to forget about it.

Now, there’s something you should know about me. Going into my past is a whole other monster that no one wants to tackle, so I’ll keep it short and sweet. I could give less than two fucks when it comes to men. I was in high school, I was young and dumb (and obviously still am), and I was one of those girls that needed a man to feel safe and complete. But the thing was that my high school sweetheart was the furthest thing from a sweetheart. He was a fucking crapshoot. So when I finally woke up from that nightmare, I realized I hated my life. I hated everything about him, but the fact was that he defined me. I was the shell of myself because he left me with nothing to feel and no romance to delude myself with. So basically I hated me. I was nothing. And he did that.

It was at the point where I had no idea how to feel. I couldn’t have even told you the last time I had cried. There’s no point in crying. Only annoying stupid bitches cry (says my ex). I did not want to feel again. Ever. Empty sex was the best sex. Feelings are always messy, and it’s best to just avoid them altogether. I was having the most empty sex I will ever have in my life. Ironically, I wanted to fill a hole. But that obviously wasn’t gonna happen, and I knew it.

I was the cool girl. I was the girl that you fucked and never had to call back. I was the girl that you laughed about with your buddies. I got drunk and let you throw me on the bad and pull my hair and fuck me until I bled. I was easy. I wanted exactly what every guy my age could give me, which was nothing. Because I couldn’t give anything back. Empty is what empty does.

So when Luke traipsed into my life, sitting across the room from me like a big blond neon sign saying “HERE I AM YOU’RE GONNA LOVE ME,” I felt nothing. Yet.

Rule #4: Better to not try this ever.

But then Halloween comes. He says he wants to meet up, he says he likes me a lot but he has a girlfriend. He says he wants me in his life. I say that’s all I want too.

A couple months go by. We get closer. And closer. It’s just so easy to get closer.

This is where my past comes into play. I said I felt nothing, and it was true. Up until now.

Up until now, I had never known what it was like to have a guy in my life that just wanted to be there because he liked who I was. No ulterior motives. Just hanging out and playing Mario Kart. We flirted, but we never crossed a line. We might have crossed some lines. We might have hung out a little bit too much, but we never did anything about it.

Luke told me when my music was shitty, Luke told me when my music was great. He laughed when I was trying to be funny because he genuinely thought I was funny. He acted dumb, and he made it ok for me to act dumb. And that meant more to me than he would ever know.

With Luke, he just saw me. Not my legs spread. Not his dick in me. Just me. And I had never known that kind of attention before. I fell in love with being his friend.

Rule #5: Keep your private life private. If you share it with me, I’ll just think it’s all bad.

So a couple months go by. And we get closer. He tells me about his family. Where he’s from. What he did before he came here. What’s good about Amanda. What’s bad about Amanda. Why he’s so unhappy. Why he’s so stuck. Why he doesn’t wanna do anything to make it better. Because it would hurt Amanda. Because he loves her family. Because Amanda. Because Amanda. Because Amanda. Strike two: When he talks about his problems with you because they’re all about his girlfriend. They’re all things you should never know, yet he tells you anyways. Because at this point we’re just too comfortable. He tells you about their awful sex life. He tells you he’s always horny and she never wants to give it up. And me, being the “good” friend that I am, proceed to give him advice about how to make it better. Even though it kills me. And it makes it that much worse that he doesn’t know that it’s killing me.

The problem with him telling me all the awful things in his relationship is that it makes me think there’s hope. She sucks at sex? So leave her. She’s suffocating him? So leave her. You’ve almost cheated on her before? So leave her. Why is it so fucking hard for you to leave her if everything you’re telling me is bad?

It’s because he never wants to tell me about the good things. Because he feels something for me. Because if he tells me about the good things, I‘ll stop trying. He likes the attention. And I like giving it to him.

Rule #6: (Don’t) Get Closer.

So we get closer. The New Year comes along. He’s in town, his girlfriend isn’t. He texts me at midnight. He tells me to meet him and not to tell anyone. It’s the new year, and the first person I see is him. We walk to the park, beer in hand. Talk about everything we normally talk about, which is always personal and always almost too deep. But we’re ok with that. Because we’re comfortable. Because we’re sitting there, looking out over the breaking waves, arms touching.

And then there’s a moment. And I know he wants to kiss me. And everything that’s going through my head is a blur because I want it to happen but at the same time there’s a resounding NO somewhere in the back of my mind. But Jesus, I want him to just touch my face. I want to know that he feels it too. And I think he does. But I’ll never be sure because the moment is over and we’re walking back and he’s leaving me at my door and all I can ever think about to this day is the big What If.

What if we had kissed? What then? Would he have broken up with his girlfriend? And even if he had, would he be with me now?

That was my one chance. And I missed it.

Rule #7: Don’t ask What If; it’ll haunt you.

Time passes. He stays with her.

So what do I do, being the unfeeling shell of a person that I am? I start fucking his roommate. Brilliant move, Tori. Fucking brilliant.

So Luke gets weird because he knows I’m a slut now. Brilliant, Tori. The one man that doesn’t see you that way and now you had to go fuck it up and sleep with his roommate.

In a way, it was passive aggressive retaliation for me. Oh hey Luke, while you’re fucking your girlfriend in one room, I just want you to know that I’m fucking your roommate right next door. I don’t need you, I don’t want you, and it doesn’t bother me at all that you have someone you love and I have no one. But really it was just the opposite.

More time goes by. Summer runs its course. He texts me one night, asks me what I’m doing. I go to pick him up, he seems a little tipsy but not drunk. No slurring words. Perfectly normal. Happy to see me. Tells me he’ll go wherever I wanna take him. We go back to my place, where I’m packing up to move to a different apartment. We make fun of each other, joke around, just like any other time we hang out. We had both been drinking, and he wants to go home, he asks me to walk him. I can’t say no to him. I just can’t.

We get to his house, we’re outside. He’s talking about breaking up with Amanda, he’s still not happy, he could never see himself marrying her so what’s the point in staying with her. He’s not ready to give it up yet, but still. if he doesn’t see himself with her, what’s the point?

I say I don’t know, I say you love her, but sometimes love isn’t enough.

He gives me that look. The one that seems like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and then he says exactly what I want to hear. He asks me to come inside. I can’t say no. I just can’t say no to him.

We’re sitting on the couch, watching TV, he makes some food, we’re eating and talking and laughing. Like always. My feet are up on the couch, and he starts tickling them. The dumb kind of tickling. The flirty kind where it’s just an excuse to touch me. When he stops tickling me, he keeps my legs on his lap. He touches my foot. Touches my ankle. Grazes my thigh. I just can’t tell him to stop. I had never felt so wanted in my entire life. Not wanted in a dirty way. It just seemed like he was entirely drawn to me, and I was being pulled into him.

He looks at me. Sighs. “So you’re gonna stay the night right? It’s late. Don’t go home.”

I look at him, not wanting to breathe for fear that he might change his mind. I ask him is he’s sure that he wants me to stay. He says it’s up to me. I say “No, Luke, I’m pretty sure it’s up to you.”

He looks at me. The look that says he knows what I’m thinking. “Stay.”

One word was all it took. Stay.

I leave the ball entirely in his court. But he keeps passing it back to me. I’m so scared, so afraid that this isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Little did I know, he really didn’t want it to happen. But fuck, he made it sound so much like there was nowhere he’d rather be but lying next to me.

So right there the deed was done, on his couch at 3 am. But it wasn’t the sex that was the best. It was after. He brushed my hair back. He kissed me on the forehead, the nose, the mouth. So soft and gentle. So perfectly romantic, like nothing I’ve ever felt. He cupped my face, told me to sit tight for a couple weeks. He was gonna talk to Amanda, tell her that he wasn’t happy, even though she already knew that. He was going to leave her. He kissed me. He was going to leave her. He kissed me. He kissed my nose. He picked me up. Said not to worry.

He asked me to stay the night. I said it might not be a good idea. He let me go. Walked me out. Kissed me a while in the 4am dusty darkness. And then I left.

Rule #7: I am the other woman. I have royally fucked up. Accept it.

Rule #8: Make him acknowledge that he fucked up too.

I cry in front of him. I never cry.

I have never felt so uncomfortable, yet so comfortable at the same time when I’m around him. He literally gives me the chills, but I can always crack a joke with him. He sincerely seems sorry for doing what he did, but he still says that he remembers nothing from that night. He tells me he did feel something that night on New Year’s. That everything would have been different if something had happened then. But now, he’s a much better boyfriend because he cheated. He realized that what he has is great and he doesn’t want to give it up.

I almost lose it. But I don’t lose it. I break inside, but I don’t lose it. I never lose it.

The silent tears come. The hot ones that you try to hold back but can’t. I tell him that he is the only person that has made me feel like I’m funny and pretty and worth it. And he stepped on my heart.

But he’s sorry for leading me on.

I text him later, I tell him if he doesn’t tell Amanda then I will. He says he will. To just let him do it.

To this day, I do not believe that he told her.

I tell him that I know him. That he puts other people down to make him feel bigger because he needs that extra ego boost. He can stay with her, but ten years from now when he’s stuck and married, he will still think of me. And wonder what might have happened. We cheated. We have a piece of each other. And he won’t forget that.

Right now, I would tell him that it’s not over. Whatever it is, it’s unfinished. Because I know he still thinks about me. And I can still see my fingertips grazing his moonlight-doused cheek. My lips on his. My feelings resurfacing for the first time in years.

It’s the helplessness, the awful feeling in your gut that tells you you’re stupid for even thinking you had a chance. And then it’s like cutting open a fresh wound when he says he never wanted it to happen. That’s the worst part. It’s the fact that he doesn’t even remember, and he doesn’t even want to remember. It’s the fact that I am completely alone in this. He made me feel like I had a sense of entitlement, and then he pulled the rug right out from under me. He reiterated everything that I already knew about every guy in my life. My feelings are not the ones that need to come first. They all make me feel alone. And not worth it. Like there’s something wrong with me. So here I am, right back where I started. I’m nothing for no one. Why can’t someone save me for once.

dying alone

toripaterson — Tue, 27 Nov 2012 22:10:54 -0500

we do so much work just to die. we work hard to have a good life. i know that. but what exactly are we working towards? i think dying next to the one you love the most is a good goal to work towards. so why not plan for it? i think that’s the most romantic thing of all. to be so encompassed in someone’s love that you would not die for them, but die with them. it completely takes away the fear of dying alone.

the dead

toripaterson — Thu, 15 Nov 2012 04:06:33 -0500

A few light taps upon the pane made him turn to the window. It had begun to snow again. He watched sleepily the flakes, silver and dark, falling obliquely against the lamplight. The time had come for him to set out on his journey westward. Yes, the newspapers were right: snow was general all over Ireland. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Bog of Allen and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Shannon waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Michael Furey lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

dear friend,

toripaterson — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 02:53:39 -0400

after seeing your movie tonight, i took a very crowded bus back home. i saw the foreign kid that always looks afraid, clutching his backpack to his chest. i saw the girl that talks too much and too loud about too many unimportant things. i saw the poor guy that had to listen to her. i pitied them for some reason, but then i thought, maybe they pity me. maybe i have it all backwards. and who are we to judge each other? anyways, one boy, about my age, was sitting across from me. when an older man got onto the bus, the boy stood up and let the man sit in his seat. in that moment, i felt so much love for this boy that i don’t even know. just the genuine goodness of it all, and how it gave me hope that there are others like him in this world.

then i started thinking about charlie. and his genuine goodness. and how i wish i knew him. and how i wish i had the strength to feel as hard as he does. but then i realized that i do. this boy standing up to let someone else sit down. the genuine goodness that happens when no one is watching. this is all charlie. i realized that charlie is everything that our insides are screaming for us to be. you know, infinite.

but to be perfectly honest, your movie and your book made me feel completely finite. it didn’t really hit me until they were driving through the tunnel and charlie said that he knew that his life wasn’t a sad story. when he said that, i just felt the overwhelming pain and the exhausting power of being human. i didn’t feel infinite at all. i wanted to be infinite, and i think that was where the sadness came from. i felt the sadness and the happiness about being entirely finite. and i think now i understand what charlie meant about being both happy and sad, but never really knowing how that could be.

i wanted to be infinite. i wish that my life could mean more and be more. and i know that people might say that everyone means something, but i know you wouldn’t say that. i know you’ll understand what i mean when i say i feel finite. not an aching, awful finiteness; just a faint sadness about knowing that one day i won’t be me. i’m changing every day, dying every day, which is both exhilarating and horribly finite.

hundreds of thousands of people have been touched by your story, so let me be the millionth to tell you that you have made me hope for the best in everyone. you have made me believe in the possibility of being infinite, even if i’m not quite there yet. and i feel awfully selfish to admit that i wish your story was solely mine. because i feel so close to it. but maybe that’s why your book is so universal. because it’s meant to feel like it’s just for me.

i’m not sure where the line stops. when you’re faking it and when you’re not. maybe it’s when you get to a place where you don’t care. or maybe it’s when you get to a place where you care too much. i’m not sure.

so long story short, i just wanted to say thank you. and i hope this gets to you.

chbosk

toripaterson — Mon, 08 Oct 2012 01:19:21 -0400

This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You are alive. And you stand up and see the lights on the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song on that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.

It’s Time - Imagine Dragons it’s time to begin, isn’t it? i get...

toripaterson — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:55:16 -0400

It’s Time - Imagine Dragons

it’s time to begin, isn’t it? i get a little bit bigger, but then i’ll admit i’m just the same as i was. now don’t you understand? i’m never changing who i am.

you can't ask me. i can't

toripaterson — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:42:38 -0400

i always think that i’ll have more time. but what happens when time runs out? there’s always been a maybe. it was never imperative that it was a yes or no. do i spring for the curly fries? do i get the onion rings? half and half obviously. but this can’t be half and half. this has to be all or nothing. and i can’ make that decision. i’m too young. too immature. so maybe that means i’m not ready to put myself in such a traumatic position. i am not being dramatic. i know what dramatic is. get out your compass i will show you how far from dramatic i am.

the worst part is that neither choice is right. but neither is wrong. what would you do?

i have nothing. no substance. i wish i could take my thoughts and have that be enough to show them that i’m competent. it’s not even about skill. it’s about how you present whatever you have. i’m plenty competent. but the only thing they care about is what they see on paper. they don;t want to know me. they want to know if i’ll be an asset.

there are no simple lies

toripaterson — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:29:46 -0400

is it bad that i miss you? and when i get angry or sad i tell myself to think about you and i feel better.

and yet i know that i can find better than you. why is it that we choose to love people who treat us like dirt? i guess we seek out the love that we think we deserve.

count all my dreams that i have in the summer rain

toripaterson — Fri, 14 Sep 2012 01:26:58 -0400

i’ve already heard everything that everyone said today, so i imagine that everyone said the exact opposite of what they actually said. i try to picture how different the day might have been. or how similar. maybe what we say changes nothing. or one thing being said changes everything. i guess i’ll never know, because this day has long since passed.

if you want to believe, you can find reasons to.

i wish you could see how you’re handling this. it will never be all about you, and i think you need that. i will have my own, and you will have your own. i think you need a challenge. i think you need space. i think you need to grow up. i think you need me.

everything is fleeting

toripaterson — Thu, 02 Aug 2012 00:04:19 -0400

for a split second i have the most intense deja vu in which i recall every detail of a place i’ve seen in a dream. and for that second i feel like it means something, that the puzzle pieces all fit and that i’m thinking these things for a reason. but then i try to hold onto it. i think about it too hard and too long. and then i forget why i’m thinking about it. maybe that’s the secret. everything is fleeting. even us.

he never met a stranger

toripaterson — Thu, 02 Aug 2012 00:01:26 -0400

i think i believe in good omens.

i read books to escape from real life. to fantasize. not to be taken into bridget jones’s diary. that sounds so normal. i want to relate to a book in the sense that it has nothing to do with me. does that make sense?

Purity Ring- Fineshrine get a little closer, let it fold; cut...

toripaterson — Wed, 01 Aug 2012 23:59:27 -0400

Purity Ring- Fineshrine

get a little closer, let it fold; cut open my sternum and pull my little ribs around you

potential book?

toripaterson — Sun, 22 Jul 2012 21:26:52 -0400

there once was a man named Mcnair

ne’er did he grow a gray hair

then one day the mirror

shined out the clearer

and ‘twas more than the poor man could bear.

this story is not about growing old. it is about growing young. or rather, regressing back to youth. because you can’t grow young, can you? nature intended us to move forward, in one direction towards oblivion. but why? our skin gets thin, our organs shut down, we are buried in the ground and served up on a plate of dirt so the pretty flowers can live for us. but why is it that we can think and act? why are humans condemned to imagine, to question why we can’t be more? i refuse to leave this earth without being remembered. which is impossible. so therefore, i refuse to leave this earth at all. this is the story of how i became young again. and how i realized why we are only meant to grow old. wanting to be young again is the ultimate form of immaturity. wisdom is endowed on the aged for a reason. because wisdom is all they have left to cherish. if you never age, there is no wisdom to be had.

i feel so shitty

toripaterson — Sun, 22 Jul 2012 21:18:34 -0400

and there’s no other way to describe it. i feel awkward and ugly and uninteresting. i don’t know why i’m so self-conscious. i have no reason to be. or do i? see, i’m doing it right now. i can’t help it. i just don’t fit in. or maybe it’s just when michael is around. i don’t feel cool enough. i’m not smooth. i’m not endearing. i’m a bit spastic. a bit awkward.