Sasha Darling & The BellJar Blog — Uncategorized

It makes sense that coming off a long term relationship a boy would have a certain level of confusion. I’m a fucking idiot. I wanted to believe that he was the one. I ignored the signs while his friends pleaded with me not to worry. I was so much more than her and they longed to see him attached and happy and full. He was never meant to be alone. But it was too soon. I was too much. I placed way too many expectations on the situation. I liked they way his dirty blonde hair fell into his eyes. I loved to press my nose against his smooth lean chest and feel the weight of his protruding clavicles. I was obsessed with the way he pronounced his words with a slight finishing school accent. I imagined him playing lacrosse. I was a cheerleader in a short white skirt and long blonde flowing hair. My cheeks looked like peaches and for one fleeting moment I was normal, with a house on the hill and a dad that was home before dusk. He smelled of fresh linen and expensive aftershave. He wore crisp white shirts on Sundays. I was so much more...

Although, by time I was old enough to have a crush on him, his former hip shaking, slick backed boy next store, good boy gone bad image had slipped away and was replaced with his white suit, pilled out chubby and almost out the door version; Elvis will always be my first and truest love. I spent countless hours lying in bed listing to his records over and over and mourning the loss of his lovely youthful glow. I cried for two weeks when he died of a drug overdose. RIP Before I was old enough to know what sex was, Jim Morrison represented pure, raw sex to me. Jon Lennon appealed to my intellectual side. His dreamy and complicated messages about truth, peace, love and exploring spirituality were key to the early stages of my development. I got lost in his psychedelic dream world. The day he was shot has a dark day. I felt as if the world had gone mad. My messiah had been struck down by the hands of evil and only darkness would prevail. John will always be my Guru. Jack Karouac and Neal Cassady. My fearless, adventurous lovers. Manly, viral and poetic. Please build me a log cabin by a creek and warm me forever with your words and your big strong hands. Le Sigh. Than you for the all the adventures. Awe Serg- I want to be your Birken. I want you to make me moan like Like Bridgette in Bonnie and Clyde. Once upon a time Michael was black. He was girlie and wore yellow sweaters and rhinestones but to me he was a total babe. Emotional and sweat I imagined Michael and I were not only in love but also best friends. Yes he was kinda short, and dressed a bit girlie but I wanted to be his Apollonia. Together we would run around in women's lingerie while calling upon mythical spirits. I was just unsure if it was cool for my boyfriend to wear higher heels than me! How did I not know he was gay? This is when my mother really became curious about my own sexuality. "How could you have the hots for him?," she would say. "He looks like a girl." I would just reply, "He is beautiful." I loved them both. Simon Gullop and Robert smith of the cure. Together we welcomed my budding adolescence. They sang me to sleep and I emulated their style. I'm not gonna lie, I still totally have the hots for Simon. He looks damn good these days. Speaking of still looking hot. John Taylor is welcomed to call me up anytime. When I was 18 I was at a club and was a bit out of it. I lost track of my friends and when I looked around I was surrounded by kind of scruffy looking guys. One of them approached me and pressed his body against mine. I stepped back and his hands wandered up my sides to relax on my breasts. I looked him in the eyes and saw a cold, blue sea. I ran off the dance floor a bit shaken and found my friends, who stood laughing on the side. This was the extent of my romantic involvement with River. He died shortly there after. I have mourned my decision to run away from him forever. Maybe I could have saved him. I'm sure he just needed the love of a good woman. Thin and awkward I first fell in love with Jarvis when I saw Pulp perform at Bimbo's. I honestly was so moved by his androgynous good looks and suggestive hip pulsating that I nearly threw my panties on stage. It was the first time ever I considered trying to sleep with a a rockstar. Brett Anderson asked me where to score drugs at an in-store at Mod Lange. I almost pretended like I did drugs just so that I could hang out with him. I imagined driving him around on a major goose chase to score all the while charming him with my smile and humor. Through our love he would clean up his act. Later that night he showed up to my friends party out on Baker Street in SF. He locked himself in the room and smoked crack that he scored at the projects near by. When I was in my twenties I always fell for the wounded birds. I wanted to save every tragic boy I met. Yeah I know he is kind of a hipster douche bag but when I first saw the strokes at Bottom of the Hill, before they got all famous, I saw him standing at the bar in a white suit and a striped tie..and I said, "who's that, I want that guy." Of course it was the lead singer of the new hot band we were about to see. He outgrew me fast. Oh well. Bobby Gillespie- He looks a bit like a faded 70's rockstar. He has kind of an old leather shoe look about him, like maybe he did too much heroin. I kind of have a Daddy thing for him even though he is not that much older than me. Also, to me, Primal Scream is one of the greatest bands on earth. He is friends with Jarvis. I wonder if I can marry them both. Adrien Brody..so stylish, so lanky and this man has serious swagger. I still want him to do bad things to me with that nose. He also drives race cars. I find that so sexy. He's still on my top list. Maybe we will run in to each-other in LA. Jarvis. Yes he gets listed twice. I fell in love with him once when we were both young and I re-fell in love with him as he aged and matured and grew in to the hot intellectual sex symbol he is today. He is my sexy professor, my humanitarian, my rockstar, he is my everything. As far as celeb crushes go this is it. Jarvis is my IT. XO

I think too much. Sometimes I wish I could just remove my brain. Not permanently just when it's acting like an annoying nagging child. It just need a bit of an off switch. Something to relax it when it's getting too crazy. Alcohol doesn't do the trick, it actually acts as a stimulant and makes it get all deep and introspective. It's becomes a bar-stool philosopher and want's to unravel all of life's dark mysteries. Sleeping doesn't turn it off, it just gets more surreal in it's dream state. Reading tends to slow it down as it focuses on each word, but then it takes the words in and digests them, and in the end it gives it more ammunition for over analyzing. Exercise is the closest thing to shutting it off, but not in one of those runners high sort of way. Instead in a "I feel like I'm going to die, this is so hard", sort of way, that makes me unable to think of anything else. I tried to meditate this am. I try to do it all the time but I just can't seem to do it. I focus on those little star-burst kaleidoscopes that fill your dark void when eyes are shut. I focus on my breathing. I sit very still and try to reach a calm state but thoughts of the most mundane shit just fills my head. While I silently say to myself over and over; breathe in, breathe out...there is all this little chatter going on in the back of my head. "I really need to get a manicure, I wonder if I can squeeze it in later today. Remember that time in 5th grade when Allison kicked dirt all over your brand new white patent leather shoes, what a bitch. I really need to clean the bottom of my toilet with a tooth brush, around the little screws where the rust is building up. I wonder when that cute boy from the park is going to call me, I wonder what I will wear on our first date. I'm so sick of all my pandora stations..music is dead. Wait breathe in breathe out....focus? Agggh". I mean it just wont shut the fuck up. How am I ever going to reach inner-peace with this stupid brain?? I mean seriously? This brain mostly just causes me problems. The more information I fill it up with the more challenging my life becomes. Does my soul really need this brain to exist? I mean most the time the two just seem as if they are battling each-other. I have made the decision to forget everything I have learned and return to a simple child like state where my life is filled with wonder. Hell I might be become stupid, but isn't ignorance bliss? Yes I aspire from here on out to be ignorant.

Ok Ok I was one of the many silly girls sucked into the whole Ryan Gossling craze. After I saw the notebook I found myself unusually occupied with his chest in a way I usually reserve for boys I have actually spent time with. I rarely get celebrity crushes and honestly I can't stand being around or meeting famous people. They are just too famous...and it makes me uncomfortable, jealous a little maybe and mostly just like I need to exit the room and conversation pronto. But dear Ryan, I spent hours daydreaming about you and I and your sexy beard hanging out on my couch drinking tea, reading Rilke poems to each-other all the while ticketing each-other and screaming with happy laughter. I went there. I joined in with the rest of the over sentimental female population and dreamed about us recusing puppies together. I felt bewildered when you did not win sexiest man of the year...and then fell even deeper in love with you when I heard that you actually turned the title down. I mean I just knew you were too cool for all that and it made me obsessed with you even more. You and I got closer as we shunned holly-woods cheesy, tabloid attention. But Ryan I have to tell you, something happened. You just got too Ryan.It was more than I could take. All the things that you are, have just become too amplified to the point that I have grown tired of our love affair. You have become too cool and sensitive, too charming and confidant, and just too hot. I've grown tired of seeing your photos plastered all over girls blogs and pinterest accounts. I used to feel exuberance when your face popped up on my screen and now I'm just like, "oh yeah, it's you again, whatever." It's all just been over kill. You know I'm not the kind of girl that likes the mundane and you darling have become mundane. Too much of a good thing. So could you ask your people to get your face off my computer? Can you ask them to take you off the cover of every magazine? Can you see if they can get the hype to die down a little? I mean I can stay away from your films...but please stop forcing yourself on me and popping up on every damn page I open. I would really appreciate it. I mean it kinda feels like you are obsessed with me and Darling it's really just over. You need to move on. If you really need something you will have to go through one of my new boyfriends whose photos I posted bellow for your reference. k? Thnkx

I wish I had fallen in love when I was a teenager. I wish I had been one of those rare special humans that found her missing piece just as life begin to rise and grow and change. I wish I had allowed people in to see all my disgustingly horrible, dark, hollow insides seated comfortably beside my sunshiny goodness. I wish I had grown, and learned and become wise with another humane by my side, both of us wandering aimlessly or twisting around like two massive oak tress swaying gently on a northern skyline. I wish I had been naive, and pure of heart. I wish I had been both simple and complex. I wish I had not taken so long to work out my kinks. Sometimes I fear it's just too late. I endured too much, I adapted to being a hidden character piling on masks to shield myself from the audience. I'm resigned to my existence. I'm happier sitting here alone, with my books and colored pencils. Away from the outside. I don't want to let it in. It might be time to run away and hide in the trees. Smothered and sweating...sometimes I just feel too old. All those dreams of everlasting love and soul mates; let's leave it for the kids with their cotton candy dreams and naive hearts. Just leave it alone. And let me be. I had too adventurous of a heart. I spent my days gobbling up life, lusting after the unknown with a terrible unquenchable thirst. I dreamed so big, I could hardly contain my thoughts; I've been an overflowing cup, a fountain to rival Trevi. My insides moved so swiftly I got lost inside my own head. I felt as if I could never allow someone else to keep up. I collected experiences like a child collects stickers and places them in a book to fade and curl at the edges. And now here I am safe and warm. I'm almost comforted by knowing that I may have missed my train. I'll see you in the next life and "we" will try harder next time. Or maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and see the world through the eyes of the 13 year old me full of hope and passion for life. Maybe the rain is just getting me down. I'm probably just being melodramatic. I've been known to be that way. Maybe I'm just full of it. Yeah that's probably it. Just ignore this post. Thanks.