oodlesofnoodlesramen-blog

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depression, the bitch.

I *almost* forgot what it felt like to be depressed, and then the sun left. #fuckdepression #fuckfall

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I miss the ocean.

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Summer, 2016

Stop Asking Me, “When is it your turn?”

I’m 31. I’m single. I’m not bitter that most of my friends my age are getting married. I’m genuinely happy for them and wish them the best. I’m just. So. Fucking. Sick of getting sympathy/pity from people for being single. At a friend's wedding, a mutual friend asked me, "When is it your turn?" Ummmm, girl, what kind of question is that?!

I haven’t found my person yet, okay? Or maybe I thought I did but instead of monogamy, he chose to fuck every other girl in NYC, despite “loving me.” Honestly? That fucking crushed me. And now, I feel completely screwed in this Tinder world of ours. 

It's tough to be an older women because people have these expectations of you to be married and a mother. Fuck. Not everyone wants to give birth FFS. And I would sooner foster & adopt someone who is already here and struggling, than to bring another child into this deteriorating world, out of sheer vanity to have a miniature version of myself.

I moved from NYC to SF last year and it’s the same shit. Fuck boy after fuck boy, and girls pretending to be cool with their dudes fucking other chicks. No, I know you better. You’ll get attached. It’s what we do. 

I don’t know what the solution is, if any. All I know is I’m not about meaningless sex, or sharing dick with other people. As a result of my stance, I’ve put myself in a corner and every day I feel more like an alien here. And the older I get, the younger my competition becomes.

Yes, sometimes it really sucks to fall asleep alone, but you know what? At 31, I’ve become a badass and I live a life I love. I’ll never settle for less than what I want, or feel that I deserve. And if that means being single forever, so be it. At least I’ll live a life I believe in, and remain true to myself. 

I've always been a romantic, and I will die one too. Hmph.

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Fall/Winter, 2014

"Breaking up with New York"

INT. - STUDY ROOM – NIGHT.

Araby sits on the ledge of a window with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She leans her head against the window as rain beats against the glass from the outside. 

ARABY

I think it's over.

NEW YORK

(O.S)

Can't we see someone and try to work this out?

ARABY

I feel like we keep trying, you know? 

I don't even think you're aware of this,

but you've been pushing me away for some time now.

NEW YORK

(O.S)

I know I can be cold and aloof at times, 

but we've been through so much together. 

*Tumblr fucked up my screenplay format. 🤌