Don't ask me why I'm blogging useless dribble.
Tonight I was reading a literary work which inspires me and one which I keep referring back to in my little brain's filing cabinet of things that strike me as interesting, odd, alternative and beautiful all at the same time. I read it time to time and recite random lines to myself on some days. It's very pretty, and yet some would call it depressing. It's funny how our views of literature differ depending on the person and their life experiences.
I just got in from English class, and I got my first grade on an essay. She liked the content of both my essays, going out of her way to tell me so, in fact. It did not go unnoticed that she didn't compliment anyone else in the class. Should I be proud or sad? Well, I am a little of both, truth be told. My next assignment is to write a descriptive essay and the assignment is quite vague, but this works to my advantage this time because I am free to describe almost anything.
After sitting through a lecture on descriptive writing, I was reminded of this work that I like to read. As I drove home from the college, I began to think of my classmates and what might inspire them. Would anything move these guys? I wonder sometimes. They seem to be immovable rocks in reference to their views of literature. A genetic concoction of Gandhi, Mother Teresa and Jesus couldn't move these mindless numb skulls! I wondered if they would like the piece I was reading and if they would respond to it as I do. I somehow think that, despite its beauty, they would think nothing of my preference. After all, it doesn't have pictures, sex, interactive messaging, a link to their Facebook or even a pop-up display for all the kiddies to see. No...the writing material I am admiring tonight consists of mere words. Words. That's all.
"Oh how dull," they would think....
I wondered if a theatrical presentation would make a difference to them. What if a very influential reader were to read the story aloud? What then? Perhaps the speaker could read it with SUCH passion that the listeners would simply be enthralled by the words, thinking them as beautiful as angel's tongues straight from Heaven's halls in the clouds! Well, maybe not that nice, but perhaps a good, strong reader could capture their attention before they revert back to texting on the phones.
As I sat here on my couch once I got home and reread the material, I once again thought it beautiful and thought of how it would sound if read aloud.
"Could I do it justice?" I wondered...
And so I tried with my two cats as my audience to read aloud this passage that I think is just so brilliant and wonderful. Some have said I have a rather striking voice, and indeed I think it can be when I put mental muscle into it in order to imprint an impression on someone when needed. If anyone can do justice to the words by speaking them aloud surely I can! I chose a random line and began to say the words, giving oratory life to them as I tried - with little success - to satisfy the beauty they so richly deserved in a strong speaker. Alas, I failed...
The words came out of my mouth and fell right at my feet as soon as they left my lips. The words even sounded shallow after I said them. It was as if the beauty was all in my mind and my awkward voice ruined that beauty, tainting it, defiling it and gradually filling it with my own song instead of that of the angels of which this work is worthy. In other words, dear reader, I fucked it up. I didn't LIKE the way it sounded out loud, coming from me. How frustrating! Some things cannot ever be expressed I suppose...
Sorry my friend, I think Color Blind sounds so much better if I just read it silently. I wonder if there's anyone with a voice who could really read it the way it deserves to be read out loud.
It sounded so much better in my head
Monday, September 28, 2009
Mai Hime! Horrible manga!
Now I can truly say I am *never* reading the manga for Mai Hime! I mean, I LOVE me some ShizNat but, ugh ugh ugh...I knew the manga had none, so I had no interest in it. In fact, I heard Shizuru isn't even a freaking HiME and that is fucking tragic -.- So THANK YOU ERICA FRIEDMAN!
Here it is! In all its glory! The YURI HALL OF SHAME LIST: Click me!
Yes, I read her top five most horrible yuri manga picks and GUESS WHAT FOLKS! Mai HiME was number effing ONE! I'MUSINGALOTOFCAPSHAHAA o_O
Dude, I laughed my ass off. Finally, from a big source of reason in the world of yuri.....finally!
Below is what she had to say about Mai HiME the manga
1. My Hime
I liked the anime. I loved My Otome the anime. But oh my goodness, what an utter piece of crap the manga was. Again, a terrible story, poorly executed. The hardly-even thinly veiled hatred of women was galling; the men in this series were weak, spineless, grasping and repulsive.
The art was crowded and hard to follow, but that was all right because we really didn't want to know the details anyway. I feel bad for the translator, because it's not their fault that the dialogue was senseless.
The original was not good, translation into English did not add any positive qualities to what I consider the absolute worst translated manga I have ever read.
And now, I open the floor to you, my dear readers. What is your candidate for the worst translated manga you've ever read? Share your nominations!
Click the link for the full list.
Haaaaaaaaaaaa......
Here it is! In all its glory! The YURI HALL OF SHAME LIST: Click me!
Yes, I read her top five most horrible yuri manga picks and GUESS WHAT FOLKS! Mai HiME was number effing ONE! I'MUSINGALOTOFCAPSHAHAA o_O
Dude, I laughed my ass off. Finally, from a big source of reason in the world of yuri.....finally!
Below is what she had to say about Mai HiME the manga
1. My Hime
I liked the anime. I loved My Otome the anime. But oh my goodness, what an utter piece of crap the manga was. Again, a terrible story, poorly executed. The hardly-even thinly veiled hatred of women was galling; the men in this series were weak, spineless, grasping and repulsive.
The art was crowded and hard to follow, but that was all right because we really didn't want to know the details anyway. I feel bad for the translator, because it's not their fault that the dialogue was senseless.
The original was not good, translation into English did not add any positive qualities to what I consider the absolute worst translated manga I have ever read.
And now, I open the floor to you, my dear readers. What is your candidate for the worst translated manga you've ever read? Share your nominations!
Click the link for the full list.
Haaaaaaaaaaaa......
Yes indeed...
:P
Sunday, September 27, 2009
BLARGH ESSAYS SUCK
Automobiles: Is New Technology Necessarily Better?
"Don't put my flag on your foreign car," the bumper sticker threatened as it conveyed the political views of the truck driver in front of me. I wondered if the driver truly knew the advantages and disadvantages that foreign trade brings about in our shaky economical times as I sighed and thought of how typical it all was. Automobiles have become such an essential part of not only our economy, but our way of life in general - especially in America! Whether the driver is a simple, elderly person making trips down the block to the grocery store, a fearless, in-the-moment sweet 16 year old handling her new birthday present or a grungy college road tripper whose destination is unknown, we all have different views and appreciates of the vehicles that get us where we need to go. However, despite their advantages, automobiles have just as many downsides, and some may argue that they have more of a negative impact than what they are worth.
In today's society, if one does not own a vehicle of some sort, he or she may well be placed into a less fortunate category within the minds of the general public. The person may be seen as poor perhaps, or just less well off. The only exceptions to this judgment are perhaps the most populated cities (New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, etc) where public transportation is more common. Generally speaking, however, across this country there is a general expectation for most citizens to have their own vehicle and most households have more than one! As a part of independence, most of us acquire a car at some point in our lives in a victorious moment that we will never forget."My first car!" we shout jubilantly, knowing that while this is the first, there will be others that we will buy or acquire later on in life. Needless to say, it is quite out of the ordinary for us to get our daily tasks or jobs done by walking to our destinations on foot. Today, it is nearly unheard of.
We have not always had such elaborate forms of transportation, however. In the general timeline of humanity, only within the last two centuries have we made leaps and bounds in our goals to conquer life's objectives and make them easier simply by means of inventions which take the work out of work. For centuries, we relied on horses to be our primary method of getting from point A to point B. While it is good to be closer to your goals within a shorter amount of time, it could also be suggested that we as humans have also become lazier as a result of the convenient machines which perform tasks for us.
In addition to our desire to perform tasks quickly and efficiently, we also have become quite spoiled in our want for comfort; air conditioning, heated seats, a nice stereo to listen to and even a simple roof to shelter us from the elements are all factors which come into play in why it is more comfortable to ride in a car than to walk or ride a public bus. It is simply human nature to want these things, but it is also an outlook that is stressed as more of a "need" than a "want" in our prosperous nation. The average American household owns 2.2 cars, a staggering number in comparison to many countries. As a result of this, we are also the world's leading consumer of oil, naturally, with well over twenty million barrels per day used - that's 24.3 % of the world's oil usage. We are far ahead of China, which takes second place at 8.9%!
Automobile accidents are also the leading cause of death worldwide, and this is no surprise to most anyone considering how almost all of us know or have known someone who was in a car crash at some point. In 2008, there were an estimated 5,811,000 police-reported traffic crashes, in which 37,261 people were killed and 2,346,000 were injured. This number applies to America only, but imagine the number of deaths worldwide if given the same percentage of crashes to drivers. When we relied entirely upon carriages to take us places, having a fatal accident in one was nearly unheard of. Who would have thought that mobile inventions would also be so life threatening?
Cars and trucks may play a part in taking lives, but by the same token, they also serve us in saving them as well. Without speedy means of transportation, we would no doubt lose many, many lives in our futile efforts to tend to medical emergencies - many involving cars! Before our mobile machines were the primary form of transportation, one had to fetch a doctor either by foot or by horse which wasted precious time, especially considering lives were at risk. Now with the use of ambulances and helicopters, we are able to quickly arrive at such scenes and able to quickly deliver the patient to the hospital. It is a shame that some lives are lost, however, when ambulances do not arrive on time due to - of all things - traffic!
While many Americans have resentment regarding foreign cars, it is true that many supposedly foreign cars are made on American soil, in American factories where American workers are employed before they are shipped to a car lot in America where an American sales person sells it to - you guessed it - another American. His American dollars are then put into further circulation in America's economy, his tank being filled with gasoline made with oil from a foreign country with strained international relations and his fumes polluting the earth with lead and ground-level ozone. In short, few Americans realize the ripple effect of foreign trade, oil consumption and its effects or the worldwide economic significance of the automobile market. Some may make noble claims to only support American jobs and dollars, but they too play into the cycle they say they hate. Likewise, many so-called American muscle cars are made in Mexico.
The world's economy would no doubt be sent into a maddening tail spin if cars suddenly ceased to be in demand. Only recently, due to harsh financial times, have we become slightly more aware of the huge impact automobile production has on our society, from the highest CEO to the lowest ranked factory worker. Governments across the world (most notably America) have spent billions in citizen tax dollars simply to support companies that would collapse and cause chaos among the people, and naturally car companies were at the top of the list. Whether or not one agrees with such an action is irrelevant in the argument that car productivity is indeed an issue which should not be taken lightly.
Despite the horrors of the pollution, oil consumption and lost lives as a result of automobiles, they have become an irreversibly important and needful part of society and American culture. While we may depend on them for the useful and necessary task, they are emphasized far too much as a symbol of success. Cars are glorified social status symbols now amongst our peers more so than purposeful equipment. As we are now, we cannot undo our dependency on these modes of transportation, but they have, without a doubt, caused more problems than solutions.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate this essay! I just wrote the damn thing and it's due tomorrow...this shit sucks because it's SO not in line with my objective. I won't even say what kind of essay this was supposed to be, but let's just say it is not really meeting the requirements as far as content...I really went off into left field with my rant :\
*shrugs*
I guess the professor will say "Hey you suck!"
Yay me!
"Don't put my flag on your foreign car," the bumper sticker threatened as it conveyed the political views of the truck driver in front of me. I wondered if the driver truly knew the advantages and disadvantages that foreign trade brings about in our shaky economical times as I sighed and thought of how typical it all was. Automobiles have become such an essential part of not only our economy, but our way of life in general - especially in America! Whether the driver is a simple, elderly person making trips down the block to the grocery store, a fearless, in-the-moment sweet 16 year old handling her new birthday present or a grungy college road tripper whose destination is unknown, we all have different views and appreciates of the vehicles that get us where we need to go. However, despite their advantages, automobiles have just as many downsides, and some may argue that they have more of a negative impact than what they are worth.
In today's society, if one does not own a vehicle of some sort, he or she may well be placed into a less fortunate category within the minds of the general public. The person may be seen as poor perhaps, or just less well off. The only exceptions to this judgment are perhaps the most populated cities (New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, etc) where public transportation is more common. Generally speaking, however, across this country there is a general expectation for most citizens to have their own vehicle and most households have more than one! As a part of independence, most of us acquire a car at some point in our lives in a victorious moment that we will never forget."My first car!" we shout jubilantly, knowing that while this is the first, there will be others that we will buy or acquire later on in life. Needless to say, it is quite out of the ordinary for us to get our daily tasks or jobs done by walking to our destinations on foot. Today, it is nearly unheard of.
We have not always had such elaborate forms of transportation, however. In the general timeline of humanity, only within the last two centuries have we made leaps and bounds in our goals to conquer life's objectives and make them easier simply by means of inventions which take the work out of work. For centuries, we relied on horses to be our primary method of getting from point A to point B. While it is good to be closer to your goals within a shorter amount of time, it could also be suggested that we as humans have also become lazier as a result of the convenient machines which perform tasks for us.
In addition to our desire to perform tasks quickly and efficiently, we also have become quite spoiled in our want for comfort; air conditioning, heated seats, a nice stereo to listen to and even a simple roof to shelter us from the elements are all factors which come into play in why it is more comfortable to ride in a car than to walk or ride a public bus. It is simply human nature to want these things, but it is also an outlook that is stressed as more of a "need" than a "want" in our prosperous nation. The average American household owns 2.2 cars, a staggering number in comparison to many countries. As a result of this, we are also the world's leading consumer of oil, naturally, with well over twenty million barrels per day used - that's 24.3 % of the world's oil usage. We are far ahead of China, which takes second place at 8.9%!
Automobile accidents are also the leading cause of death worldwide, and this is no surprise to most anyone considering how almost all of us know or have known someone who was in a car crash at some point. In 2008, there were an estimated 5,811,000 police-reported traffic crashes, in which 37,261 people were killed and 2,346,000 were injured. This number applies to America only, but imagine the number of deaths worldwide if given the same percentage of crashes to drivers. When we relied entirely upon carriages to take us places, having a fatal accident in one was nearly unheard of. Who would have thought that mobile inventions would also be so life threatening?
Cars and trucks may play a part in taking lives, but by the same token, they also serve us in saving them as well. Without speedy means of transportation, we would no doubt lose many, many lives in our futile efforts to tend to medical emergencies - many involving cars! Before our mobile machines were the primary form of transportation, one had to fetch a doctor either by foot or by horse which wasted precious time, especially considering lives were at risk. Now with the use of ambulances and helicopters, we are able to quickly arrive at such scenes and able to quickly deliver the patient to the hospital. It is a shame that some lives are lost, however, when ambulances do not arrive on time due to - of all things - traffic!
While many Americans have resentment regarding foreign cars, it is true that many supposedly foreign cars are made on American soil, in American factories where American workers are employed before they are shipped to a car lot in America where an American sales person sells it to - you guessed it - another American. His American dollars are then put into further circulation in America's economy, his tank being filled with gasoline made with oil from a foreign country with strained international relations and his fumes polluting the earth with lead and ground-level ozone. In short, few Americans realize the ripple effect of foreign trade, oil consumption and its effects or the worldwide economic significance of the automobile market. Some may make noble claims to only support American jobs and dollars, but they too play into the cycle they say they hate. Likewise, many so-called American muscle cars are made in Mexico.
The world's economy would no doubt be sent into a maddening tail spin if cars suddenly ceased to be in demand. Only recently, due to harsh financial times, have we become slightly more aware of the huge impact automobile production has on our society, from the highest CEO to the lowest ranked factory worker. Governments across the world (most notably America) have spent billions in citizen tax dollars simply to support companies that would collapse and cause chaos among the people, and naturally car companies were at the top of the list. Whether or not one agrees with such an action is irrelevant in the argument that car productivity is indeed an issue which should not be taken lightly.
Despite the horrors of the pollution, oil consumption and lost lives as a result of automobiles, they have become an irreversibly important and needful part of society and American culture. While we may depend on them for the useful and necessary task, they are emphasized far too much as a symbol of success. Cars are glorified social status symbols now amongst our peers more so than purposeful equipment. As we are now, we cannot undo our dependency on these modes of transportation, but they have, without a doubt, caused more problems than solutions.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hate this essay! I just wrote the damn thing and it's due tomorrow...this shit sucks because it's SO not in line with my objective. I won't even say what kind of essay this was supposed to be, but let's just say it is not really meeting the requirements as far as content...I really went off into left field with my rant :\
*shrugs*
I guess the professor will say "Hey you suck!"
Yay me!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Can't focus
Forgive how very informal and weird this entry will be.
I can't seem to focus on anything right now. I am having trouble with distraction. I'm trying to focus on a writing assignment and I can't stop thinking about something bothering me. I use this blog to vent frustration, get shit off my chest, put random thoughts about life and society in order, or just whatever...and there's not a point in putting shit in here if I'm not fully honest.
I still have to censor some of the things I say, and tone them down until they mean almost nothing when I strip my words of their essential depth. This is random because this entry has almost no purpose. It won't have a really stressed point that I am trying to convey where I offer up supporting facts. It doesn't really have much of an intro and it's body is quite empty, and it will lastly have an inconclusive ending of nothing...
I suppose I am in that spot commonly called depression, but my head is telling me it's hormonal and will pass.
Alanis' "Mary Jane" isn't helping, but fuck it, it's a comfort song to me.
I am going to have to re-examine what makes me happy. Am I being overly analytical again, thinking on shit that I shouldn't, complicating what should be simple and making a mountain out of a mole hill? Probably. I have to though. I'm not light hearted...sometimes I wish I could be. My heart is heavy so I have to reassure myself that there is a reason I'm feeling what I am feeling: I've lost my focus of happiness.
Ever thought of what makes you happy?
I have...lots of times.
For the most part, it's useless to reflect upon this topic for very long I think because we often make it worse by doing so. However, I am trying to refocus myself in this area because I used to take simple pleasure in so many things. Everything around me seemed beautiful in some way or another. I didn't need anyone for my happiness, that's a horrible trap to fall into. Don't let some person be your happiness. They won't always be there. I've learned that all too well, too fucking well in fact. Don't let earthly belongings become your happiness, they are temporary and shallow material possessions that aren't worth shit in the end.
I can go on and on about what you should not let become the focus of your happiness, but then I will be left with the question, "If not those, then what?"
I'll tell you what used to work for me, and what I've recently lost sight of: yourself. It's all you've got after all, right? You can't always change your surroundings and circumstances or the people around you, but you can change your outlook on these things. I once truly was more loving. I used to have so much more compassion. I still have compassion, I do. I really do. I have such sympathy that it hurts. However...I am not what I used to be in these areas. I used to just love everyone, I was a loving person all around since I believed I was supposed to be. The Bible says to love enemies, for if we only love our friends, what good is that? Even an evil man can do that, Jesus said.
The last time I saw my mother, I was standing on the back porch of the home we all once lived in after it had been cleaned out. The furniture had been packed into a truck to be hauled to Washington with my sister and her family. The house felt so damned empty without the usual belongings in it. I walked the house for one last time, feeling a bit dazed by all the memories that flooded to mind before going to the back porch to look out over the back lawn and big blue sky.
My mother asked me one final time if I would reconsider buying the home since everyone was moving out of it. I told her once more that it would be impractical for me to do so, it's so far from my work and in need of repairs that I cannot afford. Besides, the mortgage payments are quite a bit and Raymond and I don't want that extra cost. I sighed...I was saying goodbye to a place that I loved, despite how many bad things happened there.
My mother apologized to me for being a shitty mother. That was unexpected. I guess she wanted to get some shit off her chest as well. She told me she was proud of what I'd become, despite how bad she was at raising children. She began to cry.
Years ago, I would have wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly, reassuring her it was ok and that I forgave her for all the horrible things she'd done and the things she'd neglected.
I didn't hug her though...I didn't do anything but keep staring forward as I leaned against one of the porch pillars and felt the summer wind blowing hotly against my face. I was too immune to her tears at this point and they only served to anger me more these days. I really get angry when she cries about her mistakes now. All it does is make me angry. If anyone has a right to fucking CRY, it's me. I don't though. I just suck it up and say, "Thats fuckin life for ya," you know...
I just kind of scoffed and shifted the subject away from her being a bad parent.
"Why are you proud of me? I've not accomplished anything, so what's there to be proud of?"
I was still staring forward, I didn't want to look at her.
"I see the person you were and what you've become now. You're so much stronger than I am, you've over come it all. You're like a lioness. You're also the most loving person I know baby, and that's something to be proud of in a daughter. You're just like the song we named you after: "You came and you gave without taking..." and that's exactly what you do. You give and don't take..."
Most parents aren't this open with their children about their feelings. My mom is an exception. I have that dumb over emotional gene in me I guess, I don't know. I, like her, cannot hold in emotion. I have to express it and tell it.
I wasn't moved by my mother's speech about what a great person I am and how she loves me so much. I've heard it all before from her in fact. I still am resentful toward her... I always will be.
I am not the loving person she thinks I am. I am loving, don't get me wrong, but she remembers the much more kind, loving and gentle person I once was.
I think I'm not that person anymore, I don't know.
I just don't know.
I have a short temper now. I have a potty mouth (but I don't give a rat's ass about this part, it just shows I've changed, that's all). I have very little patience for people, unless I count them as friends - it seems I have infinite patience for those I care for. What good is that after all? I think Jesus was right...
I really do need to refocus my drive. I can't let people get me down, but at the same time, I can't let them lift me up either. People won't BE THERE all the fucking time, you know? I still fall into the same traps.
I think that's also the person Ray fell in love with. I was so different. I have changed just so much...so fucking much. Ray still loves me -even more than before, actually!
He thinks my short temper is adorable, and he calls me his "Snapping turtle" :\
He thinks how grumpy I am in the morning is an endearing feature and he just wakes up laughing about it.
He doesn't roll his eyes as most guys do when their girlfriend start bitching about some random thing (I go off on rants when I am passionate about something) but instead he smiles and laughs. He might even ask questions or add to the rant. We usually agree on every topic, but I think 75% of that is because I am persuasive in my arguments and he thinks I'm always right.
He says he can't stand all the ditsy girls around me and loves my sense of reasoning and how balanced I am.
Ray still loves me, he loves me even more than the shy, sweet and gentle girl I once was.
Why?
I am happier with how I am these days, but I do miss some aspects of that girl who once thought everything and everyone was beautiful, the girl who loved even her enemies with a fierce force that couldn't be turned away, the girl who always turned the other cheek (and yes, that shit hurts too, fuck it)....the girl who cried easily.
I don't cry easily these days. I'm not really moved very often. There are few things in life that move me. I seem to cling to the few things that do move me. I should seek out more sources, I'm kind of running on empty right now and you can see the result of such emptiness: the result is this stupid blog entry.
I can't seem to focus on anything right now. I am having trouble with distraction. I'm trying to focus on a writing assignment and I can't stop thinking about something bothering me. I use this blog to vent frustration, get shit off my chest, put random thoughts about life and society in order, or just whatever...and there's not a point in putting shit in here if I'm not fully honest.
I still have to censor some of the things I say, and tone them down until they mean almost nothing when I strip my words of their essential depth. This is random because this entry has almost no purpose. It won't have a really stressed point that I am trying to convey where I offer up supporting facts. It doesn't really have much of an intro and it's body is quite empty, and it will lastly have an inconclusive ending of nothing...
I suppose I am in that spot commonly called depression, but my head is telling me it's hormonal and will pass.
Alanis' "Mary Jane" isn't helping, but fuck it, it's a comfort song to me.
I am going to have to re-examine what makes me happy. Am I being overly analytical again, thinking on shit that I shouldn't, complicating what should be simple and making a mountain out of a mole hill? Probably. I have to though. I'm not light hearted...sometimes I wish I could be. My heart is heavy so I have to reassure myself that there is a reason I'm feeling what I am feeling: I've lost my focus of happiness.
Ever thought of what makes you happy?
I have...lots of times.
For the most part, it's useless to reflect upon this topic for very long I think because we often make it worse by doing so. However, I am trying to refocus myself in this area because I used to take simple pleasure in so many things. Everything around me seemed beautiful in some way or another. I didn't need anyone for my happiness, that's a horrible trap to fall into. Don't let some person be your happiness. They won't always be there. I've learned that all too well, too fucking well in fact. Don't let earthly belongings become your happiness, they are temporary and shallow material possessions that aren't worth shit in the end.
I can go on and on about what you should not let become the focus of your happiness, but then I will be left with the question, "If not those, then what?"
I'll tell you what used to work for me, and what I've recently lost sight of: yourself. It's all you've got after all, right? You can't always change your surroundings and circumstances or the people around you, but you can change your outlook on these things. I once truly was more loving. I used to have so much more compassion. I still have compassion, I do. I really do. I have such sympathy that it hurts. However...I am not what I used to be in these areas. I used to just love everyone, I was a loving person all around since I believed I was supposed to be. The Bible says to love enemies, for if we only love our friends, what good is that? Even an evil man can do that, Jesus said.
The last time I saw my mother, I was standing on the back porch of the home we all once lived in after it had been cleaned out. The furniture had been packed into a truck to be hauled to Washington with my sister and her family. The house felt so damned empty without the usual belongings in it. I walked the house for one last time, feeling a bit dazed by all the memories that flooded to mind before going to the back porch to look out over the back lawn and big blue sky.
My mother asked me one final time if I would reconsider buying the home since everyone was moving out of it. I told her once more that it would be impractical for me to do so, it's so far from my work and in need of repairs that I cannot afford. Besides, the mortgage payments are quite a bit and Raymond and I don't want that extra cost. I sighed...I was saying goodbye to a place that I loved, despite how many bad things happened there.
My mother apologized to me for being a shitty mother. That was unexpected. I guess she wanted to get some shit off her chest as well. She told me she was proud of what I'd become, despite how bad she was at raising children. She began to cry.
Years ago, I would have wrapped my arms around her and hugged her tightly, reassuring her it was ok and that I forgave her for all the horrible things she'd done and the things she'd neglected.
I didn't hug her though...I didn't do anything but keep staring forward as I leaned against one of the porch pillars and felt the summer wind blowing hotly against my face. I was too immune to her tears at this point and they only served to anger me more these days. I really get angry when she cries about her mistakes now. All it does is make me angry. If anyone has a right to fucking CRY, it's me. I don't though. I just suck it up and say, "Thats fuckin life for ya," you know...
I just kind of scoffed and shifted the subject away from her being a bad parent.
"Why are you proud of me? I've not accomplished anything, so what's there to be proud of?"
I was still staring forward, I didn't want to look at her.
"I see the person you were and what you've become now. You're so much stronger than I am, you've over come it all. You're like a lioness. You're also the most loving person I know baby, and that's something to be proud of in a daughter. You're just like the song we named you after: "You came and you gave without taking..." and that's exactly what you do. You give and don't take..."
Most parents aren't this open with their children about their feelings. My mom is an exception. I have that dumb over emotional gene in me I guess, I don't know. I, like her, cannot hold in emotion. I have to express it and tell it.
I wasn't moved by my mother's speech about what a great person I am and how she loves me so much. I've heard it all before from her in fact. I still am resentful toward her... I always will be.
I am not the loving person she thinks I am. I am loving, don't get me wrong, but she remembers the much more kind, loving and gentle person I once was.
I think I'm not that person anymore, I don't know.
I just don't know.
I have a short temper now. I have a potty mouth (but I don't give a rat's ass about this part, it just shows I've changed, that's all). I have very little patience for people, unless I count them as friends - it seems I have infinite patience for those I care for. What good is that after all? I think Jesus was right...
I really do need to refocus my drive. I can't let people get me down, but at the same time, I can't let them lift me up either. People won't BE THERE all the fucking time, you know? I still fall into the same traps.
I think that's also the person Ray fell in love with. I was so different. I have changed just so much...so fucking much. Ray still loves me -even more than before, actually!
He thinks my short temper is adorable, and he calls me his "Snapping turtle" :\
He thinks how grumpy I am in the morning is an endearing feature and he just wakes up laughing about it.
He doesn't roll his eyes as most guys do when their girlfriend start bitching about some random thing (I go off on rants when I am passionate about something) but instead he smiles and laughs. He might even ask questions or add to the rant. We usually agree on every topic, but I think 75% of that is because I am persuasive in my arguments and he thinks I'm always right.
He says he can't stand all the ditsy girls around me and loves my sense of reasoning and how balanced I am.
Ray still loves me, he loves me even more than the shy, sweet and gentle girl I once was.
Why?
I am happier with how I am these days, but I do miss some aspects of that girl who once thought everything and everyone was beautiful, the girl who loved even her enemies with a fierce force that couldn't be turned away, the girl who always turned the other cheek (and yes, that shit hurts too, fuck it)....the girl who cried easily.
I don't cry easily these days. I'm not really moved very often. There are few things in life that move me. I seem to cling to the few things that do move me. I should seek out more sources, I'm kind of running on empty right now and you can see the result of such emptiness: the result is this stupid blog entry.
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Something pretty cool
I just found this in a book on my shelf.
I'd forgotten about it.
Never give up the joys of reading.
Love,
Dad
I don't think I found out about that joy that until now.
He gave this little bookmark to me when I was 12 years old, along with the book "The Call Of The Wild" from Jack London, which is why he chose one with wolves. I did love the book - I read it more than once.
Damn I miss him sometimes.
I never could talk to him when I was younger, I was so awkward and shy to everyone except my mother. My dad scared me and I was fearful of him, he was abusive and an alcoholic crazy nut after all. He was so smart though, just so smart.
Now that I'm an adult, now that I've overcome my shyness and inability to speak, I wish he was around to talk to. I would ask him all kinds of crazy questions now that I am a really curious person. It's too bad he isn't here really.
Ah, I miss him.
....
I'd forgotten about it.
To Amanda:
Knowledge is power.
Love,
Dad
I don't think I found out about that joy that until now.
He gave this little bookmark to me when I was 12 years old, along with the book "The Call Of The Wild" from Jack London, which is why he chose one with wolves. I did love the book - I read it more than once.
Damn I miss him sometimes.
I never could talk to him when I was younger, I was so awkward and shy to everyone except my mother. My dad scared me and I was fearful of him, he was abusive and an alcoholic crazy nut after all. He was so smart though, just so smart.
Now that I'm an adult, now that I've overcome my shyness and inability to speak, I wish he was around to talk to. I would ask him all kinds of crazy questions now that I am a really curious person. It's too bad he isn't here really.
Ah, I miss him.
....
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Emotions
I know for a fact that I've expressed how useless many emotions are before in other blogs. Of course, they're not entirely without purpose, but it just sucks how people take feelings and run with them.
I am bothered tonight, and I was all day as well. I won't say what it is that's truly on my mind; it would only make things worse I guess. Let's just say I am upset over a simple concept that we all learn very early on in life: sometimes life just isn't fair.
People don't always get what they deserve, even if they are a really good person.
People don't always get what they deserve, even if they are an asshole.
We all know this to be true. I mean hell, it's such an elementary idea that it's barely worth giving any thought to, really. Logically speaking, I should just apply that reasoning and try not to let it bother me. Ah but...that is not so easy because I am an emotional being, damn it. I care about the person so that makes it difficult to accept such an injustice.
I shouldn't have let it bother me all day, and yet it did. I shouldn't have thought so much on the subject, but here I am now doing it. It got me down so badly that I crashed when I got home. I didn't really care, I just took a nap. I said "fuck it" and I'm still upset about it.
Fuck, it's just so .... and yes, I'm being weird and mysterious, I know. I have my reasons, lemme alone. *sticks tongue out*
Even Amanda can write a whiney blog, and so here I am abusing that right >_>
Oh God, I can't get it off my chest fully. I think I want to face-keyboard now
khytbm .v,i8yvikbzdcjx.bzae .py"HIKN,
Useless emotions. Emotions and immaturity are to blame for the very thing that I'm upset over in the first place! Why was that person so God damned immature? WHY did they have to say shit like that, and WHY did the person I care about not seem to care about being spoken to in that manner?
It's not right, is it? It's not. It's not even my right to be upset over the matter, I wasn't even the one who was even being spoken to so harshly. Yet here I sit upset, though I admit I haven't the right to be. It is, as I said, not so easy when you care about the person. I care about my friends. I'm going to sound SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO whiney right now, prepare yourselves. It's coming.
When I love someone (even as a friend! Yes I said love, for God's sake there are many levels of it, get over it) I really really love them, you know? If I don't like someone, I really, really don't like them. I feel everything pretty deeply and I've really learned to cope in order to survive but still...still, I am that same person. For me, it is only natural to want what's best for someone I care for. It is only natural... but God it's hard to just sit and stay silent sometimes because of the fact that I feel things so deeply.
Me and Ray are fine, it doesn't involve him. We're fine.
As I said, people don't always get what they deserve but that's a two way street. Maybe it's a good thing, because inside, I think most of us are assholes at the end of the day. God I sound so pessimistic right now. I truly don't think I am an asshole though, I just can be at times. I really, really do care.
Whatever, I can care my little heart out and it wouldn't matter anyhow. Useless, it's all useless. All my concern is nothing, nothing at all. Why? Because caring about something/someone is useless if you don't say/show how you feel. Saying how I feel will probably make things worse though, so here I sit feeling those useless emotions. At least I won't fucking lash out at someone over them though....immature people should grow the fuck up.
whatever
.
I am bothered tonight, and I was all day as well. I won't say what it is that's truly on my mind; it would only make things worse I guess. Let's just say I am upset over a simple concept that we all learn very early on in life: sometimes life just isn't fair.
People don't always get what they deserve, even if they are a really good person.
People don't always get what they deserve, even if they are an asshole.
We all know this to be true. I mean hell, it's such an elementary idea that it's barely worth giving any thought to, really. Logically speaking, I should just apply that reasoning and try not to let it bother me. Ah but...that is not so easy because I am an emotional being, damn it. I care about the person so that makes it difficult to accept such an injustice.
I shouldn't have let it bother me all day, and yet it did. I shouldn't have thought so much on the subject, but here I am now doing it. It got me down so badly that I crashed when I got home. I didn't really care, I just took a nap. I said "fuck it" and I'm still upset about it.
Fuck, it's just so .... and yes, I'm being weird and mysterious, I know. I have my reasons, lemme alone. *sticks tongue out*
Even Amanda can write a whiney blog, and so here I am abusing that right >_>
Oh God, I can't get it off my chest fully. I think I want to face-keyboard now
khytbm .v,i8yvikbzdcjx.bzae .py"HIKN,
Useless emotions. Emotions and immaturity are to blame for the very thing that I'm upset over in the first place! Why was that person so God damned immature? WHY did they have to say shit like that, and WHY did the person I care about not seem to care about being spoken to in that manner?
It's not right, is it? It's not. It's not even my right to be upset over the matter, I wasn't even the one who was even being spoken to so harshly. Yet here I sit upset, though I admit I haven't the right to be. It is, as I said, not so easy when you care about the person. I care about my friends. I'm going to sound SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO whiney right now, prepare yourselves. It's coming.
When I love someone (even as a friend! Yes I said love, for God's sake there are many levels of it, get over it) I really really love them, you know? If I don't like someone, I really, really don't like them. I feel everything pretty deeply and I've really learned to cope in order to survive but still...still, I am that same person. For me, it is only natural to want what's best for someone I care for. It is only natural... but God it's hard to just sit and stay silent sometimes because of the fact that I feel things so deeply.
Me and Ray are fine, it doesn't involve him. We're fine.
As I said, people don't always get what they deserve but that's a two way street. Maybe it's a good thing, because inside, I think most of us are assholes at the end of the day. God I sound so pessimistic right now. I truly don't think I am an asshole though, I just can be at times. I really, really do care.
Whatever, I can care my little heart out and it wouldn't matter anyhow. Useless, it's all useless. All my concern is nothing, nothing at all. Why? Because caring about something/someone is useless if you don't say/show how you feel. Saying how I feel will probably make things worse though, so here I sit feeling those useless emotions. At least I won't fucking lash out at someone over them though....immature people should grow the fuck up.
whatever
.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
HHhhmmm...
A butch girl with a dyke hair cut walks in the door to my right.
"What a fruit..." says the righteous Pentecostal by my side.
I smile and say nothing.
She looks back at me. Our eyes meet as an unspoken acknowledgment is passed between us.
We nod and lightly tip our caps to each other. We know.
He has every right to call her out. After all, he is going to Heaven. She is going to Hell.
To Hell, where moth and haircut doth corrupt and destroy!
It's okay though, I have long hair, so I am going to Heaven.
"Yes," I tell him, "she is a fruit."
Are any of us more righteous than the other? After all, we all three just judged one another in a few moments' time.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I check out, I notice a jar sitting by the register on the counter that has a hole punched in the top with a sign taped to it featuring a picture of a child in need. This charity begging me for my spare coins supports a foreign cause, funding food for the hungry mouths of African children and vaccines for their nasty diseases.
I look away; it's more convenient that way.
I'm not really in the mood right now to be generous or even emotional anyhow.
After all, your worth as a human being is determined by my mood, foreign child. I am comfortable on my American soil which is trampled underfoot by my new Nikes that were sown by the hands of a child slave in God knows what unfortunate country.
Too bad you caught me after I just watched an action flick at the theater where all the characters mercilessly shot down all who opposed their little mission. If only you'd appealed to me after I'd seen Hotel Rwanda. You caught me at a bad time, kid.
Besides, I should save what spare change I acquire anyhow.
I want that new Ipod....
"What a fruit..." says the righteous Pentecostal by my side.
I smile and say nothing.
She looks back at me. Our eyes meet as an unspoken acknowledgment is passed between us.
We nod and lightly tip our caps to each other. We know.
He has every right to call her out. After all, he is going to Heaven. She is going to Hell.
To Hell, where moth and haircut doth corrupt and destroy!
It's okay though, I have long hair, so I am going to Heaven.
"Yes," I tell him, "she is a fruit."
Are any of us more righteous than the other? After all, we all three just judged one another in a few moments' time.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I check out, I notice a jar sitting by the register on the counter that has a hole punched in the top with a sign taped to it featuring a picture of a child in need. This charity begging me for my spare coins supports a foreign cause, funding food for the hungry mouths of African children and vaccines for their nasty diseases.
I look away; it's more convenient that way.
I'm not really in the mood right now to be generous or even emotional anyhow.
After all, your worth as a human being is determined by my mood, foreign child. I am comfortable on my American soil which is trampled underfoot by my new Nikes that were sown by the hands of a child slave in God knows what unfortunate country.
Too bad you caught me after I just watched an action flick at the theater where all the characters mercilessly shot down all who opposed their little mission. If only you'd appealed to me after I'd seen Hotel Rwanda. You caught me at a bad time, kid.
Besides, I should save what spare change I acquire anyhow.
I want that new Ipod....
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