One More Day

The life of a 19 year old mental case living on her own.

Month: July, 2013

That One Time I saw what “Normal” Looked like.



I used to think the abnormality of my family was pretty normal. I mean, parents getting separated is pretty common, and I’m doing alright. I go to an awesome university and have friends and everything like that. I’m definitely no outcast of society. Maybe not everyone’s dad solicit sex online while their mom is going through chemo, but who cares. 

It also may not be totally normal to go to drug rehab at 16…but everyone has their quirks, right? 

That’s what I thought up until I met my boyfriend in my freshman year of college. 

His parents just threw down the 50 grand a year for his schooling. No scholarship, no financial aid, nothing. As I got to know him more and more, I began to realize that his family was a typical well-to-do American family, straight out of a movie. 

He was good looking, as was his entire family. He opened doors for me and always paid. “There must be something wrong with this guy,” I thought. 

There wasn’t. 

Every time he went home there were a plethora of happy looking family pictures posted all over Facebook. That was when I realized that I didn’t have a single family picture. 

My boyfriend was aghast any time I brought up a negative about my life. Separated parents? Drugs? Low on money? Shocking. 

This prompted me to stop telling him things like that. I became outwardly “normal”, and we were a perfect “normal” couple. 

He began to invite me to go to Philadelphia and meet his family, a thought that put knots in my stomach and brought me to the realization that I wasn’t quite being myself. 

There were so many levels that we didn’t connect on. I have to take pills to get to sleep every night, and the only thing he gets nervous about is passing his chemistry test so that he can eventually take over his dad’s successful business. 

He was an amazing boyfriend…such a sweetheart; but our relationship started falling apart toward the end of the school year when I wouldn’t agree to go meet his family. 

He broke up with me a few days before he moved back home for the summer. He felt like I was keeping things from him, and I was. 

I still look through his family pictures that are posted every now and then, but I think I’m happy that my life hasn’t been that normal. If it was, I wouldn’t be me. 

I’ll post later about why I started thinking about this. Good story. 


Sleeping Beauty



A haunting and beautiful film, Sleeping Beauty is extremely symbolic and thought-provoking. For those of you who need something to think about- this is a great movie for you. 


Lucy is a beautiful girl with fair skin, going through the motions of life and working multiple jobs to make ends meet. 

She sees sex as a very casual thing, at one point stating that her “vagina is not a temple.” One night she even has men flip a coin to decide who will have sex with her and when. 

While she is not your typical damsel in distress who outwardly believes in true love, there are many parallels to the classic story of sleeping beauty. She is a woman who feels trapped and helpless, in need of her prince.

Lucy gets her hands on a job that she later realizes is sex work. Part of her job is to serve men in lingerie. The other part is to take sleep-inducing drugs so that men may do what they wish with her while she is asleep, and she will have no recollection of the events. Her employers called Lucy Sara. 

Although she is literally sleeping at her new job, it seems that she is sleeping throughout the entire story. She has no passions for her jobs, her schooling, or anyone in her life except for a close friend.

Her friend mentions that he once wished to kiss her. Perhaps that would have been the kiss from prince charming that would save her. However, he did not have the time. She asked him to marry her to which he agreed, but overdosed shortly after.

At his funeral she saw a man who she knew years ago. She asked him to marry her as well, but his response was not as favorable. He became enraged and explained that she had her chance years ago. “I can’t believe you. I don’t believe you. You don’t believe you.” 

There were three men who paid to be with her while she slept, all probably in their mid 60’s. Each were told that “there is no shame. No one can see you.” 

  • The first man only wanted to caress and lie next to Sara. Prior to Sara’s supervisor’s departure, he gave a thoughtful speech. He read a short story that read “rise up and walk, none of your bones are broken.” He said that he carried on beautifully. That he and his wife were the perfect couple, but he did not cherish her, his friends, or his children. His wife is now dead. That night he confided that  “I continued on, but with each step I cringed. Tonight, for the first time I say, my bones are broken. All of my bones are broken.”


  • The second man was vulgar and rough. His response to the request of no penetration was “The only way I can get a hard on is if I take a ton of Viagra and a beautiful woman sticks two fingers up my ass. I’m the one who needs to be penetrated.” He proceeded to lick Sara and burn her with a cigarette. 
  • Very little information was shared about the third man. The only thing he did was pick up Sara and toss her around. He got her on the floor, but then struggled to get her back on the bed. 

Sara became curious as to what went on while she slept. She begged to know, but her supervisor told her that she could not expose her clients. 

The first man came back and requested that he take the same drugs as Sara. Her supervisor gave him a lethal dose. Sara slept as the man died next to her. 

When the supervisor came back, the man was dead and she could not wake up Sara. She began to panic and gave Sara mouth to mouth- a kiss- which awoke her. 

When Sara awoke, she once again became Lucy. She began to scream and cry when she realized her surroundings. The one who’s kiss awoke her from her sleep was not prince charming, it was one who was whoring her out to an old, dead man. 

This stark realization finally brought emotion out of Lucy, which was not seen until this point in the movie. 

There was a ton of symbolism, foreshadowing, and of course, allusions in this film. Literature bugs, you’ll love it. 




So I got in a car accident today…

I had never felt the real power of a car until I was hitting the breaks and felt the impact upon hitting the other car. 

I had never been in an accident before, thank god. As far as car accidents go, I got extremely lucky. Car accidents kill!

Thanking my lucky stars today….even though I’ve created a huge financial issue, I’m alive. 

A Timeline of My Experience with MDMA



Molly is a trip…but it isn’t all fun and games. For those of you like myself who have panic disorder or GAD, proceed with caution. 

I’m not a fan of any drug that makes me hallucinate, but I decided to pop some molly for two days of Ultra Music Festival 2013. Here’s a recount of my experience for one of the days. 

Day 1: 

  • 11-11:30 a.m: I got on the metro to get to downtown Miami. Near the end of the ride my friend said “ok, let’s do it.” I put the rancid tasting chemicals in my mouth and chewed. 
  • 11:30- noon: In line waiting to get in to Ultra, wondering why I feel so normal. 
  • 12:00-1:00 p.m: “Are you rolling yet?” “I…I don’t think so…” 
  • 1:00-2:00 p.m: A DJ I like comes on and the light show is awesome. When I start dancing euphoria hits me like a ton of bricks. I can’t feel my feet but I know I’m dancing. 
  • 2:00-3:00: Walking through crowds and trying to figure out what to do next—panic sets in. 
  • 3:00-6:00: At the main stage. “I’m okay…I’m okay..” 
  • 6:00-8:00: Sun starts to go down but colors get brighter. The lights are more visible and I feel like I’m in heaven. 
  • 8:00-8:15: A round of hugs with my friends and exchanges of I love you’s” 
  • 8:15-8:30: A round of hugs with all the people around me and exchanges of “I love you’s” 
  • 8:30-8:50: Dancing. Alternating between not feeling my arms and not feeling my legs.
  • 8:30-8:31: “When was the last time I told my friends I loved them?” “….oh”
  • 8:31-8:32: “When was the last time I told the people around me I love them?” “…oh” 
  • 8:32-9:00: I started sharing my immense glowstick collection and made many friends along the way. It’s amazing how much happiness a glowstick can bring someone who is under the influence. 
  • 9:00-9:15: I give a girl a glowstick and she gives me a beaded bracelet. We hug and say we’ll remember each other and will keep each other’s gifts forever. 
  • 9:15-10:00: I leave the crowd and start throwing up rainbows. 
  • 10:00-10:20: I find a portapotty and go in. I then leave because it feels like a space ship that is taking off. 
  • 10:20-11:00: I feel better…but the show is starting to end. I look around and many of the people in the crowd are crying. I start crying a little as well. 
  • 11:00-12am: More crowds and the metro. Maximum anxiety levels. 
  • 12:00- 1:00 am: I’m home…throwing up some more, still hearing EDM and seeing crowds. 

The next day I did it all over again minus the vomiting. 

I never had an appreciation for EDM and I really only went to Ultra to tag along with my friends. 

After my drugged up stupor I now understand and like EDM. 

It was a crazy, scary, yet totally worth it experience. 

My Crew



Ain’t nobody fresher than my mothafuckin clique. 

These are the people who keep me going. We call ourselves “Us”. There’s really no other way to describe us; we’re a package deal. We are us. 

From left to right: 

  • Steidl: The one I feel most comfortable sharing my stories of promiscuity with because she’s done so many of the same things. She’s graduated and back up north now, and on our last night out we all cried hysterically over a pitcher of beer at our favorite bar. What a shitshow. 
  • Lexi: My BFF. We’ve known each other since the sixth grade and I’ve lived with her for two years. Sometimes people aren’t sure if we’re best friends or in a relationship…but we don’t care. We love each other. Despite her occasional judging face, I tell her everything because I know it will spill eventually. We do everything together. 
  • I’m the one with the demon eyes in the center. 
  • Rebecca: I can always count on her to look out for me and my best interest. She has the ultimate bitch face and we all love her for it. I love her little Hispanic quirks like when she says “Let’s get down from the car.” Another great part of Rebecca is that she found herself sleeping in the Freshman dorms as a Senior. 
  • Alex: The token hot asian betch. I always go to her with my boy problems, and really anything that I would normally keep from others. She has a boyfriend who we all love. They’re inseparable and it’s great. She sometimes disappears at night but we’re all convinced that she’s smoked too much weed and lost her phone. 
  • Not pictured- Hannah: I know her the least but she’s my awesome jappy friend. She would be between me and Lexi in this photo (yes, we ordered ourselves by hair color deal with it). 

I’ve met other amazing friends in college but these are my ride or die bitches: my crew. Mess with one and you mess with all. Have sex with one and we’ll all know how big your dick is….sorry. 

Gold Digging


South Beach, Miami is a haven for rich men and hot women…a gold digger’s paradise. Despite being 19 I go to South Beach clubs every now and then. Liv, Mansion, Bamboo, and even Rokbar are some fun ones. 

Last time I went to South Beach I met a guy who seemed to have unlimited funds. He bought my friends and I a round of drinks (if you’ve ever been to South Beach, you know that just one drink can cost you around $30). 

He asked for my number and I agreed, simply because he had put down so much money just to impress me. He continuously has asked me on dates to lavish places but I have always made up an excuse as to why that night was no good. 

Recently, he told me he was in New York and wanted me to come “hang out.” To me, an impromptu trip to New York to see someone I hardly know seemed ridiculous. 

He asked me if I had ever heard of The Plaza hotel. Hello, Eloise??? Of course I have heard of The Plaza! Staying there is a dream of mine and he’s in the Gatsby Suite. He told me he would fly me to New York and that I could stay with him. 

As a non-multi-millionaire, I had to work. As a non-idiot, I wasn’t about to go stay in a hotel with a stranger. He could like, kill me or something. However, The Plaza in the heart of New York City would be so amazing!

He then said when he came back to Miami and take me on dates with a limo service so that we could drink and neither of us would have to drive. I guess this guy has never heard of a cab. 

Then, if I felt comfortable with him he would take me to Los Angeles the next week. 

He said he’s thought I was very beautiful since the day he met me and that he wants to spend time with me. Maybe he’s so wealthy that such extravagant purchases for women are commonplace for him.

 Having a sugar daddy has definitely crossed my mind from time to time. Now that it’s in my lap, I feel a bit weird about it. It almost seems dirty to use someone in such a way, especially if he expects sex in return.

I’ve never had the opportunity to travel and have only been to three states in my entire life. Money has always been an issue. Now, this guy swoops in and wants to transform me into a globe trotter. 

Can this be worth it? 

Am I just a Character?

Sometimes when I’m alone, I find myself thinking in terms of what I say or think…

For example, “I wonder what people would think if they were watching, she thought.” 

It makes me wonder whether it is I who am thinking these things, or a different character inside my soul. Am I real, or am I just a character to be written about, just waiting for an author? 

If this is the case, I hope I am one of the dynamic characters in the story. 

Said the Lover to the Fighter

Please look at me. Why don’t you respond to my touch anymore? Why have you grown so cold? I’m not afraid. Your fist might put a hole in the wall inches from my head but I know you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt me. Put me in a ditch and cover me with dirt. I’ll dig myself out and come back; hoping you have calmed down and will accept my touch, or at least look me in the eye.

Look at me. Are you afraid to lose the one sided fight? I’d like to think that if you would just look at me, that the fight would disappear and there would only be love.

But fighters are more resilient than lovers. If a fighter is broken he will heal; if a lover is broken he can be patched up, but never truly the same.

I guess the fighter wins the fight by default, because he is the only one fighting.


It’s 3 a.m., I’m watching a documentary in French on suicide.

I don’t have to work tomorrow, or anything…..

A Shocking Confession of a Girl: I WATCH PORN


Should I be reluctant to let others use my computer because I know that pornhub will pop up as soon as they press p in the search bar on the internet?

Whelp, I’m not. I WATCH PORN. And Guess what: I bet you do too.

Even if it doesn’t turn you on, which I believe to be nearly impossible, it’s fucking eye catching. There’s no way that porn could be on in a room and someone could be naturally uninterested.

I’m no liar, and I have no shame. Porn turns me on. Even the stupidest schoolgirl or “omg, can I wash your car…naked” porn turns me on. Lesbian porn turns me on. Anything. I just love watching another girl get fucked.

Want to know my favorite? I think it’s called “Backroom Casting Couch”. Young girls come for an adult “audition” and have to do dirty things to get a job that doesn’t exist. I love it.

If you’re lucky, I’ll let you watch with me.

Got a problem? You probably fucking suck.