The Hopeless Generation

On the rare occasions I venture out of the house for a night out with my friends (not that I am anti-social, I just don't like going out at night that much), it's hard not to notice all the other people that also decided that night was a good night to go out. We find ourselves usually in cramped bars or clubs permanently impregnated with an intense smell of cigarettes, where the music is loud, the people are louder and usually under the influence of something, either alcohol or something else. And it never ceases to amaze me, although not it a positive manner, the way my generation behaves these days. 

I belong to the Generation Y, the 90's Kids. We were brought up hearing how the world is full of possibilities, how we can be anything we want to be. The world is your oyster! Our childhoods were filled with fairy tales and wishful thinking.

But now we are all grown up, we realize all those promises were empty and there is almost nothing left for us to take. It turns out the world it's not an oyster, but an empty shell. My generation will have to work a million times harder to archive half the things our parents did, and even there it will not be enough. We'll be permanently plagued by thoughts of unworthiness; ... We, the hopeful kids, have grown into hopeless adults.

So it should be of no surprise to hear that all my friends' stories of great nights out begin when they are sufficiently intoxicated not to feel anything. That my generation needs the alcohol and drugs to have fun. We, the hopeful and full of hope kids, are exhausted, mentally exhausted, to the point of needing not to feel anything to feel something else. And it saddens me profoundly to see the point we are now. 

I like to believe that, amidst all darkness, there's still hope. Nothing has to - or can, really - be set in stone, but as long as we keep voicing our dreams, there's hope for a better future.  

Andie

Fog | Andie Maars | Exclusively on Blogger

Same Old New Year

Thirty-one days into the new year and it doesn't look new. Everything stayed just the same way it was thirty-two days ago, and somehow I feel disappointed. Not with the New Year per se, more with myself for thinking one number on the calendar would make any difference. 

I know all about those self-motivation things on how "if we want something, we have to be the ones going after that something" and what not... But the truth is, I don't really know what I want - I'm finding it extremely hard to set goals for both short and long terms (if my crappy New Year's Resolutions are anything to go by). Yes, I want to read more and take more pictures; those could easily be worked out for short term goals. I just have to pick a book from the pile that has been growing on my bookshelf, and I just have to take the camera the next time I leave the house... But I can't find in me any motivation to do any of those things. I'm stuck. 

Stuck between having too many unrealistic dreams for myself, having too many of those unrealistic dreams crushed recently, a depressingly low self-esteem, rainy days and nothing useful to do. I know, deep (really, really deep) inside that everything will, eventually, turn out alright. I'll somehow get my happy ending - whatever that means and however long it take to reach it -, but it will come. I'm just terrified of the time period between now and that day.

And there is still hope that, maybe, during the three hundred and thirty-five days this year has left, something new will come of it. 

So here's to being hopeful. 

Andie

Happy New Year to anyone that might be reading this. May your year have started in a less confused way! 

And if by chance you missed it, I updated my "final words" post like I said I would when the time was right. I guess that time has come. You can scroll down to look for it, or you can be lazy and click HERE. Until next time :) 

2015 in Retrospect

Here it is, the last post of 2015. And what a year it was! It had its highs and lows, and the average in betweens... It seems so uneventful and at the same time so much happened, so many things changed.

Although I keep getting older (not wiser, though), I've never felt more grown up than now, after this 12 months; more so than ever before. But there is still so much room for growing up, so much space to learn more, to explore more, to dream more... to live more! If someone had told me earlier this year that this is how it was going to end, I wouldn't have believed it.

I've witnessed the importance of having just the right people in my life, and I couldn't end this year on a high note (ok, scratch that as it might be a little farfetched...) happy note without any of my wonderful friends, especially C (she's the best!). I've learned to accept the universal truth that Life it's indeed not fair, and there isn't much to do about it other that look for a detour every time I hit a "road block" and keep going. 

I usually don't bother with New Years' Resolutions, as I end up either forgetting or not completing them. But maybe it's something I need to do: make "light", non-committal promises (that don't result in the apocalypse if I happen to break them) and stick to them; work them to my advantage. So here are some things I'll try to accomplish next year:

• Smile more
• Count my blessings (more often)
• Have more "Me" time
• Read more (I have so many books on my waiting list that it's not even funny)
• Take the camera out of the house more often
• Make new memories (preferentially happy ones)

And just for the fun of it, here is my year of 2015 in the most random picture I took each month.

2015...Random Mode | Andie Maars

See you next year,

Andie

P.S - If you found picture #10 odd, that's because I was so bored that day that spending nearly 1-hour taking glam shots of an apple seemed like a good idea! 

Still

It’s been a month and it still hurts. Not as much and not for the same reasons, but it still hurts. I’m still dealing with the emptiness, I still feel lost... But I don’t feel guilty anymore, for not insisting, for letting go. I’ve come to terms that it was the right thing to do. That my patience and bullshit tolerance have limits and those have been crossed way too many times before. I was, and still am, tired of fighting for something I once thought was meant to be; the doubts grow higher with each day that goes by without him.

I’m slowly learning how to let go; letting go of the feelings, of the automatic responses to certain actions. It’s much like having too many clothes that just don’t fit anymore and it is time to give them away, hoping someone will make better use of them than I can right now.

It has been a month and it feels both so far away and too close, too fresh, still burning. I am braving trough unknown waters in search for a safe haven, but my compass is wayward and the right direction is as blurry as it has ever been; I’m just sailing alone now.

In between the unknown, there is one thing I know for sure: no excuse, no explanation will ever be enough. Nothing can justify this, what I’m feeling, the emptiness…

There is nothing left unsaid now. All the T’s were crossed and all the I’s were dotted.

But it still hurts.

Andie

Alone | Andie Maars | Exclusively on blogger

final words

26/01/2016 Update: As promised, here is the new improved version. Now that the I no longer feel all that anger, it has been polished and thought trough... but I believe the core ideas remain.

---

Dear F 

I’ve lost count of how many days have gone by since it all ended; it feels both so far away and too close. I haven't forgotten anything, the good and the bad, the promises and the lies...But deep inside, I can't find it in me to hate you (much to your disappointment).  

There are still days when I wake up missing you, wondering how you are doing. I have come to terms that my feelings for you after that fateful day have changed, a lot. But the emptiness is still there, lodged deep in my heart. I miss you, but I don't want you back.

I want you to know that I'll always care for you because, at some point in time, you were one of the most important people in my life - and that was real (even if everything else might have not). I learned a lot from you, and I know that all this gave me a new understanding of Life and, more importantly, of myself. 

I've learned where my standards stand now; I know how to know when to give up and when to keep fighting. I've learned that not bringing up a subject just because I don't like arguments won't do. I need to stand for what I believe is right - if not for everyone, at least for myself -, and we stand at opposite sides in so many core ideas... The best analogy I can find is that we began building the house by the roof, and with no foundations it just...collapsed.

I’m still re-learning to look at things without associating them with memories of you, and it gets easier with every day that passes. I keep finding all the little things that make life worth living that had skipped my mind this past 3 years; the world is a beautiful place and I can see now why. The grieving process is over.

I learned, I grew up and I changed. And maybe missing you is simply part of the process.

I hope you are happy and I, sincerely, wish you all the best.

Andie