Home is Where the Heart is

I haven't updated this in about a month or so. So why not now? The best times I write it usually when I'm feeling upset about things, so this would be a perfect time. I don't really know how to start this off and I really don't want to ramble about nothing in this blog. So here goes nothing.

I have never really "fit in" anywhere. It all started when I was twelve years old. I found the most important thing in my life. The love of my life to be exact. Punk rock music. I loved it and still do more than anything, it's one of the only things that matter to me. Ever since then my life had changed. I listened to crazy obnoxious music and dressed horrid to people around me. Not many people accepted my style, but did that stop me? Nope. Never did, never will.

I live in a small, podunk town. I hate it so much. Everything sucks here, I don't think I will ever learn to like it. I guess I can learn to accept New Jersey, but never Emerson. I will forever hate it here. I know what you're think; "She's only a teenager, what does she know?" You are right, I don't know much, but what I do know is all the shit I've been through these past five years. Getting weird looks, people calling me cruel and hurtful things, not being accepted. I understand the fact that I will never be accepted here, I understand it very much so. But that's where the real meaning of this blog comes in.

This blog isn't for making me sound selfish or ungrateful either, because trust me, I'm not. I really do appreciate what I have. I am so thankful for a house to be in, a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head. And let's not forget someone who I love very much, my mother. I appreciate her more than anything. She has dealt with me for seventeen years and is still doing it. She supports me so much and doesn't mind that I'm not perfect. She is one of the nicest women I know and I'm so thankful that I have her for a mom. I also understand that there are so many people out there who have it worse than me, oh, I know. There are people with nowhere to go, people who messed up their lives and are living out on the streets. Those people are the ones who have it bad and I completely do not consider my life bad at all. I appreciate my life because I know there are others who have past away and didn't even know it was coming. I'm so happy and lucky to still be alive.

New York City, "the greatest city in the world." I thought so too until September 27, 2008. Yeah, there are many different kinds of people in NYC, but it was nothing compared to this. I imagined this place to be wonderful, oh, it was. Los Angeles, California. I've never been to such a place in my entire life. It did resemble the city that I had loved so much and maybe that's why I loved this city even more. I don't really know what brought my happiness about this place though. As soon as I got off that airplane and stepped into California, it felt like I was finally complete. It was like I've been missing a piece of me on the inside and once I was there I had finally found it.

To people, this may sound a bit crazy. But believe me, it was one of the best feelings in the world. I didn't have one problem on my mind, any stress, any pain, I felt fresh. It felt like a clean start and I hadn't even entered the city, yet. The cheap hotel I stayed at was absolutely amazing, I've been in nicer ones, but they didn't even compare to the feeling inside of this one. I was happy. I was happy in a shitty little hotel. Everyone around was so nice and calm. It was amazing and so unnatural to me. It made me feel very welcomed and safe.

Once I was in the city, that was the end. It completely took my heart away. A lot of people see it as just another New York City, but to me it wasn't. To me, it was something completely different. Everyone there accepted me. I belonged. They didn't see me as some strange girl, they saw me as Mary Cate. For people to do that around here is very rare. It's all about looks here, you need to look a certain way to be accepted into society. And for that, I will never fit into society. And would you like to know what? I don't care, actually, I'm glad that I won't. Because in California it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter who you are, where you came from, what your background is, what your past is like. Nobody cares about that, it really doesn't matter there.

As I said before, California was something very different to me. It was my home. I don't belong here, I know I don't. My heart isn't here, I left my heart behind in the city of Los Angeles on October 4, 2008. And I won't get it back until around June 20, 2010. As sad as it sounds, it's okay with me. Because I know by then, I will finally be home...