ghosts.

I've completely lost all sight of anything.

tony.

I am NOT religious, but PLEASE pray for my friend Tony Thompson.

charlie is dead.

I was named after my grandfather, Sam Aversa. Yes, my name is technically Samantha, but it doesn't suit me at all. Do not call me Sammy. Sammy makes me l i v i d. I cringe whenever I hear it. It's not because I think it's cutesy or whatever. The only people to ever consistently call me that were my father, whom I will never speak a word to again, and the cunt that was the catalyst in breaking up my family. I go by Samm, with 2 m's. Why? There's no real reason other than I think it's aesthetically pleasing.

Who the fuck is Stella Kelly?!!

I was working the cafe one day and something possessed me to read the obituaries. There she was, Stella Kelly (RIP). I had never met her nor do I have any idea who she was. I instantly decided that was the coolest name I had ever heard. I was named after my grandfather, Sam Aversa. He was born on October 22nd. Stella Kelly was born on October 22nd. Weird, right? The name stuck in my head for a while.

My life has been fairly inconsistent for the past 12 months. I don't feel like sammaversa. anymore. Maybe that's a good thing and maybe it will make me grow up. All my friends have moved and I'm just anchored in Utica. Everyday that passes, the less at home I feel. No one even calls me Charlie, which has been the only nickname to ever stick to me. So, one day I decided to change my Facebook name to Stella Kelly, for numerous not entirely valid reasons. I guess Stella Kelly is what I'll hide behind for now.

the dizziness of freedom.

As I sit in the lobby of Farmingdale/MVCC 2.0, I can't help but wonder if I made the right decisions in life. I'm proud of the fact that I moved out at 18 and have continued to stand on my own two feet with basically no help from my family. I like the fact that I get called an activist, however I can't seem to figure out how to motivate myself as of late. I like the fact that I have complete freedom and can do whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want. I just wish I knew what the fuck I was doing. I'm 22 years old in a city with a dying pulse. I have yet to get my associates from a college that might as well hand out color by numbers as final exams. The truth is I could have graduated in 2 years. I was too busy living my life to prepare for my life. I'm confident in my ability to survive. I don't think I'm a failure. I don't think I was supposed to follow the status quot. I think I was destined to go out and create my future. I'm coming to terms with the fact that I need to leave my beloved 315 wasteland. Is leaving this city a forfeiting the game?