Reflection, Regression, and Nonsense: Nonsense

"Babble babble
Bitch bitch
Rebel rebel
Party party
Sex sex sex
And don't forget the violence.
Blah blah blah
Got your lovey dovey
Sad and lonely
Stick your stupid slogan in.
Everybody sing along"

I've forgotten how much I actually like some Manson songs. Though it's especially awkward when you have Manson running through your head and your watching the American Country Awards. Kinda sorta a disconnect there. Oh well, I'm only in it for Kristin.

Speaking of adorable, bubbly, happy, gorgeous people... I am the complete opposite of that. I feel so dark on the inside and angry. I am angry. There are so many people I want to scream at and tell them just how much they've hurt me. The idiotic, oblivious jerk who pretends you don't exist. The hypocritical church who didn't actually care I existed. The people who scold me and act like I'm a child. This religion. This religion....

I've officially changed my religious view on facebook to flagellant, which makes for perfect rationalization for me to destroy myself. If it's all about the body of flesh being in the way of a soul's growth and strength and that it must be punished for that, I'm all for it. Kill this shell. Kill it. Set this poor soul free. It's screaming. It's suffering.

I'm officially gone; I'm done. And I'll revel in it. And do you know why? Because there is no one here to say otherwise. No one here to even give a slight damn about me. No one to pull me back. And why would there be? Everyone (especially the Christians) have just walked away from me, completely out of my life. It's just too tiring is all. Bring on the darkness. It has always welcomed me.

Reflection, Regression, and Nonsense: Regression

Yea yea I know, big gap between entries. Not that it matters; I doubt anyone is reading or cares.

I've had to give up on that church. I was just feeling too much pain and anger when I was there and even though they seemed to start off with this "welcoming" idea, I learned that the people that started this church already have a church and seem to have a habit of starting things up (now a cafe as well) and just roaming in their little pack that they had already formed. And I had never tried so hard in my life to go to their events and try to set things up with people and it never worked. It just hurts.

And I suppose I should've taken a cue months ago when one of them told me Jesus was cliquey. Wow Elle, miss the foreshadowing much? That was like bitch slap you in the face obvious.

And that can't be true. There is no way in hell Jesus could have been cliquey. It doesn't serve his purpose at all or God's. He was always out welcoming people, helping them. Yea, he had is 12 "holy boys" that all I can imagine probably had some big ego complexes thinking they were the top shit because they ran with Jesus, but Jesus never denied anyone. And in fact, he spent time with the people everyone else had ostracized and hated. How? How can that be cliquey? If anything the disciples were cliquey and I have NO DOUBT about that. These church people (and that one in particular) make me think they are no better than those disciples. Yep yep they wrote some stuff for that thing called the Bible, but other than those books, we have NO IDEA what the hell they were like outside of that. I bet they were jerks. I bet they were ignorant fools. I bet they were like..... That person.

Anyways, regression. I've pretty much gone through all six seasons of Xena since I was like 14 all over again and found I was feeling very similar to the way I felt then. Like my imagination kicked up again and the way I viewed life around me went screaming back to how I was when I was a kid. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I find I've immersed myself and escaped to a place and level that hasn't been seen for a while, but I feel like it's the only thing keeping me alive.

There is something about that show, those characters, that relationship, that has always stuck with me and ingrained what I believe friendships can be. I was young, but I understood the whole lesbian subtext thing people loved to throw around, but I never believed Xena and Gabrielle were lovers even after the writers purposefully started writing material to reflect as such cuz I'm pretty sure they were just having fun with it (and honestly, as a writer I would do the same thing on my show). Xena just taught me that a best friend can be your soulmate, that you can be as close as family with people without having to screw them or marry them. I believe that and I always have. I have no boundaries with what is labelled "acceptable" because I know how close people can be when they spend an insane amount of time together. You're bound to create that bond that Xena and Gabrielle had because well, they traveled for six years together, just the two of them. There were secrets, there were tears, there wear laughs, there was a bond that even in death was never ever going to be broken. And I'm so obsessed with the damn show because I'm so lacking even anything similar to a relationship like that in my own life. I would say I had it when I was younger in elementary school and again in high school, but life has changed and we've grown apart and that's the way it is. But dammit, just.... I've only ever wanted to be close to people and have that bond that I know exists without thinking I'm now their lover or we have to get married. But I live in a fantasy world, so I suppose I'm wrong

I'm having a hard time with this faith thing. I'm really torn and confused and somewhat angry trying to understand just what the fuck God wants and is doing to (for) me. I stopped going to that church and any of their meetings and it had been almost 2 weeks of that and not even hearing a "hey are you all right we didn't see you today" text since I had been there FROM THE BEGINNING, so I calmly (in tears) stated to God:

"It's ok if I'm not meant to be a part of a church community. I'm ok with that. But please, can you not bring people into my life that aren't meant to stay? It hurts too much. I can't do it anymore."

The very next day I got a text from a certain someone about how they missed me at an event. We had a small conversation, I tried to once again get schedules aligned so we could maybe hang out and actually get to know each other and got the standard "too crazy busy" text with nothing else. Pain. Oh so much pain. The hurt, you don't understand. And what is God doing to me? I don't know how to live with this God and suddenly I'm wishing we lived in Xena world where the gods would appear in front of them and they'd talk or fight or argue or whatnot. I'd really like that ability right about now. It's like... I just can't do it. I can't live like this and with this. I am not a fall-back person that someone can just randomly text when they've run out of options for their selfish entertainment. I dealt with that in high school and I almost killed myself. So many scars, so many scars....

And I'm done. I'm going to do what I want with and to the people I want. There's this guy that I'm just hankering to sleep with that I just met and now I see nothing stopping me. The good boys don't seem to like me, so I guess I have to run with the bad boys. I just want hands on me, I just want to feel wanted for a second, desired, regarded. And he pays attention to me on facebook when no one else does (even if I've known them forever), and that little extra bit? Is the reason I'd fuck him. My soul will always be God's. But my body is a useless shell that needs to be destroyed. It will be nobody's. Not even mine.

Reflection, Regression, and Nonsense: Reflection

Well. Three weeks after I say I'm prepping myself to get into this new situation with new people at some new church and I finally get around to giving a follow up. I went twice, missed this last time around and now I'm not even sorry. I'm angry again actually and I'm trying really hard to not direct that towards God since ya know, that's never a good sign and well it's not like you win against a god anyways.

I can't lie, it started out well. It was small and people were nice and would greet you and talk to you afterwards and I got along with them. The church itself was catering to broken people that most churches dismiss like the alcoholics or the ones from broken families who are often told "When you clean up your act come back." And in many ways I liked that because we all know how broken I feel inside.

So maybe my beef isn't with that church so I have to take that back. But I still have a beef and I'm still angry and still feel, well, forsaken. There were just some people that I kind of thought looked at me with a bit of regard and respect and I guess I was wrong. I tried really hard last week to try to set up things so I could hang out and get to know the...*people*... better, and everything was just shot down. Our schedules do a terrible job of lining up and in fact it seems they never do, but I tried to keep in contact and knew one day might be a small possibility after they finished something else so I let them know I was open and let me know when you're done.

I got nothing.

The next day was a get together that I had to miss because of work and I never got even a "was hoping to see you there" text. And days went on and nothing. Then I missed church. Once again, nothing.

I'm not trying to look demanding or needy, which is how this might sound. The point of these lost and missing text messages is that while I've instigated all the talking, I kept it open with one glimmer of hope that maybe said people would think of me for even a second and be like "where is she?" It's all about regard really, feeling even a smidgen of significance to someone else. I have that for them, that's why I would text them about trying to work something out with our busy schedules. I just don't know why I'm not even a passing thought in their minds. But maybe I just ask too much.

I don't know how to make friends now that I'm out of school and in the real world. It was so easy when you were a kid, and even a high schooler; you were always around other people so of course you made friends. They were always there. And you always found the people you had things in common with and went from there day after day, class after class, and before you knew it you had driver's licenses and were going to malls together and eating sushi and tada! You were friends. I'm not around anyone anymore. I'm really alone. I'm not exaggerating; my daily life is a lonely one. I keep thinking you're supposed to find people that you have things in common and go to the same places and start doing things with them, and I tried that. Doesn't seem to be working. But I picked people that were so social, had so many friends already, it's not a surprise I'd be pushed to the back burner and maybe even forgotten. And honestly, I knew that going in. So I'm not mad at the person, not really.

But I'm mad that this has been the story of my life for 24 years. And I've tried to stay faithful to a Christian path and Christian way of life. I've wanted to make close friends with a similar faith who understood what I was going through and who I could talk about things like God with without being judged, and ever since I was old enough to comprehend, I have hopped from place to place trying to find that and I have never gotten anything or anyone from it. Sometimes for a brief moment people would come into my life and be so excited to have met me, give me their contact information, promise that we were going to become *such* good friends, and within a month, have disappeared completely from my life. Someone even lasted a few years, but was ultimately gone without warning.

The thing is, I look to God as the director of my life, the shaper. Everything happens for a reason and I believe that and since I believe in God, He must be the one doing it. But the odds are so stacked against me with relationships, so against me. I just really thought this time was finally going to be my moment, my turning point, my revelation, my new life. I really thought I had earned it now. 24 years is a long time, it just seemed it could be right. But I guess not. I'm back to where I am. And I really want to think this means God has an even cooler thing planned out for me, but at this point, I truly believe the only plan God has for me is for me to be alone. I keep using the analogy of how many times can you get kicked down before you stay down? There are only so many ribs you can break before you can no longer get back on your feet. Mine are all broken. And God? I don't know what the hell You want from me.

I had a small breakdown moment to my dad the other night (luckily tears didn't ensue) where I revealed such feelings and concerns, and of course he had nothing to say to help me. I mean, how can anyone have any words of wisdom for something like this? It's all beyond our control and no third party can fix it for you, especially when even you can't. But I stated and threatened quite plainly to him that I've tried to keep myself a good little girl and go to the correct places for friendships, but I am now so desperate for attention, for even fake friendships, for a hug, for a touch, that I will gladly wear the lowest cut top I have and the shortest skirt I own and get myself so hammered that I will get all the attention and touching I need and I won't regret a single damn thing. And you know what? I am not lying. If there was any time for someone like oh, a god to be concerned, it would be now. Lost my way? Well seems *someone* just deserted me there with no rhyme or reason. So of course I've lost my way, I don't know where the hell I was left!

It's frustrating, it is. And I can't say I blame this religion for making my life the way it is, but I think without certain convictions that are so ingrained in me, I would have been easier off in the world. Things could have been different. I wouldn't be so alone. And that's the truth.

Missing

Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again.
Maybe someday you'll look up
And barely conscious, you'll say to no one:
Isn't something missing?

You won't cry for my absence, I know
You forgot me long ago.
Am I that unimportant?
Am I so insignificant?

Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?

Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?

Please, please forgive me
But I won't be home again.
I know what you do to yourself.
Breathe deep and cry out.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?

Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.
Isn't someone missing me?

And if I bleed, I'll bleed
Knowing you don't care.
And if I sleep just to dream of you,
I'll wake without you there.
Isn't something missing?
Isn't something?

Even though I would sacrifice,
You won't try for me
Not now.
Though I'd die to know you love me,
I'm all alone.

Isn't something missing?
Isn't someone missing me?


Missing~ Evanescence

Tomorrow's Prep

I'm going to a new church tomorrow. It's all new, never before seen. I have my reservations and my hesitations as always. I know they're making a big deal out of the idea that they will be the all-encompassing "welcoming" church that no one is anymore, but I'm having a hard time believing I'll see anything different than what I've always seen and I'll get the same responses that I always have, which I have to say, are quite lack luster.

It's not that there's someone there I'm trying to impress (except that there is), but I'd like to be able to be a big deal in this new church environment where this person will be schmoozing up the crowd. They're so extroverted, so energetic, so outgoing that this won't be a problem for them. But with that comes the notion that they know everyone and will talk to anyone and you know what? I can't compete on that level. I can't rely on my personality getting any job done when I'm in a church and I think we all know that. There are far too many better personalities that don't have hesitations or anxieties or problems that overshadow me (triple threat girl anyone?) and when they get together with another personality just as strong, I may as well stay home.

So I'm going with the superficial tactics. I think I've said before how much I value physical and superficial beauty and looks because that's the only time I ever feel even *slightly* desired and worth something in life. It's a hollow lie for a hollow girl living in a hollow shell. But when she can't compete with something real and true, she finds her best Betsey Johnson Victorian-bustle inspired jacket, her trendy stilettos with the adorable bows, her best pair of jeans that fits and hugs everything just right, and works it. Not just "works it," "saunters," "prowls." Prowling through a church? Why not. They don't regard me, I don't regard them. And I'm unconventional. If anyone can get away with wearing a corset in a church (which I did for my grandmother's funeral) and not looking like a tramp, it's me. I'm constantly pushing these small things, these idealistic wishes that no one can fulfill, and it's as simple as clothing. And if this clothing that doesn't belong in Hicksville, and this waist long mane of curls, and the way I can make up my face so well can get me some attention, I'm doing it. Why even try to hide it?

And I bet some will say she's trying too hard. Damn straight she is. And do you know why she is? Because you don't see her when she's not out there. Because you don't give a damn about her when she just has sneakers and jeans and a t-shirt on. Did anyone ever think when they see these people that are clearly out of control trying too hard that they might actually need help? That they might actually be hurting inside and aren't the sluts or fools that we all think they are? That these 15 year old girls are in trouble, if only in their minds? Sometimes people need someone outside of everything they've known to help them. But you know what? The people outside? They don't give a flying fuck. And that stuff inside those girls' heads that others write off as nonsense and childish? Those are the only things shaping them, the only things they know, the only things they relate to. And that makes them incredibly broken not even to their own fault.

This has veered a little. The bottom line I was getting at is simply this: Person I like and would like to become friends with at new church is a little too extroverted/energetic/all over. And so far I have seen no signs of them even having a passing thought about me in which they might shoot a text or facebook message over, unlike me who has a few times made funny quips about something they've said. It's obvious I'm not worth that much in their eyes and it's going to be more obvious tomorrow when I'm sitting in their church surrounded by their closest 600 friends. And that's why I'm making sure I look like nothing they have ever laid eyes on. I'm rocking out the superficial beauty (even if I'm not sure I even have the beauty to begin with) and the trendy clothing and the big city lifestyle because that, and only that, will make them look twice at me.

This is a fucking horrible world we live in.

Late Night Blogging

So I would really love to be asleep right now, but it's just typical of me to postpone it even when I have to get up at 6am. And then I just get mad at myself for getting only 4 hours of sleep and then driving for 2 hours and well yea. Oh well. Late night blogging is the best.

Feel like I can't even write an update because too many stuff has probably happened (even though I feel like nothing has really changed when I know things have). School got better; haven't really had any attacks since the last one I spoke of and I've enjoyed hanging out with the guys and talking movies and school with them. There's a few new people added into my life and I'm not quite sure what to do about this blog. I mean, I don't advertise but it's not the hardest thing to find. So now do I censor my crazy or just go wtf do I care? I care a little to say the least, but I mean... I feel pretty normal right now.

Well normal enough considering I do feel fairly numb. I mean, I'm not outrageously depressed or angsty or anything, but I'm not outrageously happy either. I'm just very tired. I have one week of class left and a whole bunch of video projects crashing down on me so I mean... Better I feel numb than overtly stressed or something (which I'm sure I am no doubt).

But I suppose I haven't changed. I'm learning to censor my crazy (even my crazy faith side that I hoped people in churches would understand) because it has come to the point at which I KNOW people just don't like crazy people. Mental sicknesses of any sort (depression, anorexia, asperger's, etc) are just too taboo and weird and people just don't want to know or have anything to do with it. And I suppose I can handle that, but I sometimes wonder if I have to hide it all my life am I just living a lie in the end?

Like if I actually found someone I wanted to pursue a serious relationship with would I always have to be on my best behavior? Would I have to pretend that I'm not a black and white vigilant person who only gets a temper when injustice is happening in the world? Would I have to pretend that I don't feel any panic attacks or hyperventilate when I'm in a new social situation that is absolutely terrifying? So I'd have to pretend to, well, be Kristin Chenoweth. So I'd Chenofy myself until I became someone fake and made sure not to talk about any of my inner turmoil and the fact that sometimes I may not see things correctly. Instead I see things in rainbows and unicorns and Candy Mountain and opera and Oz. And what would happen if I reverted back to a darker mindset? The times when I wasn't actually sure I could feel things physically so I'd hurt myself to see if it was possible? Then it was like I was a complete fraud. But I can't very well ever tell someone I want to love me that I can handle cuts and bruises and wounds and I completely disregard anything that could happen to me. It just won't work. But it's not like it would ever happen really.

Ok, if I go to bed now I can get 6 hours of sleep. Good enough odds for me.

Mad World

"And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had."

Anyways.

After a year of doing nothing (which is actually pretty amazing to think about and not in the good way) I'm back in school once again in a program I'm still not even sure I want to be in. I keep getting told since I'm only 5 classes away from graduating I should just suck it up and stick it out and at least it'll be another thing to put on a resume along with some new skills I can use for other types of jobs. Also, in all three of my classes, I'm the only girl. In the words of Kristin Chenoweth: "It doesn't suck!"

And no, it usually doesn't. I've always liked running with the boys even if I'm a little awkward around them at first and seem to have the track record of becoming friends with them for a while and then they just cut off all contact with me (there are things I'd like to say to that that involve words with the letters f and u, but I'll actually try to keep my blog clean for once). And it's not so bad as long as I don't psych myself out and trap myself in the "useless girly girl" mentality. Which has only happened once so far. Ok, on the second day of class. Whatevs.

The place doesn't make me feel though. I don't feel much it seems. However, at work this weekend I felt a lot. The theatre is where I want to be and the environment I crave and I keep asking myself why I'm in a film program. I've always said they're similar, and they are, but that still means they're too different. All this time and money I've invested in schools and degrees that I guess got the job done (the job being that piece of paper and something to study), I never once gone after what makes me feel passion. There's just something different about the theatre community versus the film community. They're closer, stronger, selective. Any random Joe Nobody can grab a camera and film something and post it on youtube and call it art. There's just something more special about theatre that I desperately want to be included in.

The unfortunate thing is, even with all the times I've been in shows and worked shows, I've never been able to infiltrate and feel comfortable and feel like I belong. I was younger when I did the shows and I had no concept of what is wrong with me, but I know now and it still takes over. It's so crippling and it makes me sick and I've actually gotten BETTER at it. How pathetic is that? It's really pathetic. This is something I don't think I have the authority to tell myself what to do since, well, I'm screwed up. You would just think in the two months of a rehearsal span that you'd get to know everyone and be yourself and loosen up and be real. Nope, not for this girl. Dammit.

(That's a mild curse word; we'll let it slide.)

It turns out when I'm in public environments like school or work, I'm actually hurting more than when I can be alone for a day and sit in the sun or relax and read a book or watch a few movies. It's a hard concept to grasp, the idea that every breath you take actually hurts and I don't expect many, if any people to get it. I expect a lot of people trying to call me out and tell me I'm some stupid drama queen exaggerating just trying to get attention, but I don't know anyone who would want to make themselves look this weak and disgusting just for a bit of attention. There's something about being around public environments that fill me with the gloom of knowing I can't obtain what's around me. I can't obtain connections with people because my anxiety blocks me from talking to them, and if I try, my mind goes blank and I can't say anything anyway. My body locks up even and I can't move. And that's when I start feeling worthless and useless and run to the bathroom and start punching walls just so I don't cry. If this happens just in a class atmosphere, how did I ever think I could have an intimate relationship with another human being? What made me think I got the privilege to share any part of my life with an "other half?"

It's ok though, I'm used to these feelings. I'm used to the bruised and broken knuckles. I'm used to the scrapes and scratches and cuts. I like them. They're home. This is just high school all over again except I'm even more on my own than I was then. I don't have my two other best friends to get me through anything, I'm on my own. I'm on my own everywhere. And I can't imagine it any other way.

By the way, the above lyric is to "Mad World" by REM.

Why Do You Think I Sleep All Day?

All right, all right. I'm here. New blog intro, so I can start this up again. K cool.

First off, I apologize for the last post. Makes me look like some idiot high school girl being passive aggressive about her boyfriend (and let's face it, people only wish). Not good to stoop to such low levels. But it is a good song though, so I digress.

I've come to the conclusion that I only attract slobs or socially dysfunctional men. Serious bummer. I can't do anything with either, and I really can't do anything with someone who looks at me and then twitches and stares blankly at me with nothing to say and then when he does say something, it's so quiet I can't even hear him. Then I get all awkward and just start telling stories about my dogs. If someone doesn't engage with me, I become disinterested. And because I'm not quick enough on my feet being shy and having something in my brain that's fucked up, I can't do well with getting any substance going in a conversation. Not having anything to talk about and engage with is probably the worst thing that can happen. And I get stuck with the winners. Well fuck this life.

I'm also beginning to think this idea of "waiting to have sex before marriage" is only used by the same guys who twitch uncontrollably at the sight of the opposite sex and who would need google maps to tell them where the breasts are on a woman. It's probably easier to just play the celibate card when you've never even held hands, let alone hugged someone. Heaven forbid you ever try to do anything else; you'll need google maps for that too. And luckily I'm pretty sure there is a "sex for dummies" book.

But you know what? I'm not even looking for sex. I never have been. But at least knowing the guy knows his way around a woman's body would be nice. I wouldn't mind some physical contact, not at all. Groping, fingering, fondling, etc doesn't need to be involved. There are plenty of small gestures that will do the trick for me. But I'm not going to get it with any of these pussy wussy twitchy dysfunctional overanalytical freaks who practically need their mommy to be there to tell them how to put their arm around a girl. I'm tired. I'm just so tired.

Meh. I still can't believe I've actually resorted to admitting that I actually want to find a relationship. That was such a no-no not too long ago. But what the hell am I going to do about it? It plagues me, haunts ever facet of my life. And I'm pretty sure it isn't even geared towards a "significant other" relationship. Any steadfast friendship would just be so nice. I feel forsaken by so many, and I never had that many to begin with.

Which brings me to the title of this post. I'll try to keep this short. The other day I went to the wedding of my mom's cousin's daughter. So my... I don't know, something in the family. She's pretty much everything I've ever wanted to be, the complete triple threat girl. She seriously could be Kristin Chenoweth if she dyed her hair blond and put in green contacts. She may as well be Kristin. Everything about her is exactly the same: Short, small, petite, big personality, bigger smile, singer, Christian, oh yea. Snagged herself a great guy as someone like her would. Being that her dad is a pastor, she seemed to get instilled correctly with the best of the best in church and therefore got her guy accordingly. And the wedding was a bit uncoventional and avant-garde, but that's what they're into and so it turned out to be awesome and quirky and her dress was awesome and quirky and essentially everything I like because I've always liked that style before I knew her.

So all the friends and that side of the family were the type As, over the top, epic cheery personality who knew everyone and looked like beauty pageant contestants squealing with each other, and I was just there. I didn't care that much at the time; I only went last minute with my parents for the food. But the longer I stayed there and absorbed the environment, the more the situation began to wear on me. First off, I would hate getting married because I don't want to be standing in front of everyone and knowing they're looking at me. I couldn't even do THAT. Second off, I had always hoped to stay true to my faith, but all the Christian guys I know at age 24 are already married.

Sad fact (ok fact in my head): In the church, if you are 24 and still unmarried, you are a spinster. I'm not talking about just mormonism here, it's just how the church is. Which I've always correlated to the poor saps trying to be all chaste and to "save" themselves. And which as we all know, 24 years is an awful long time for a guy to hold off. He's damn lucky if he can make it to 18. It's perfectly acceptable in normal society to be 24 and single and free falling and flitting, but in the church society, there is something wrong with you. All the good ones get snatched up fast, and if you're fucked up like me and mentally handicapped, you can't compete and you don't get anything. And that tears me in half.

Am I supposed to turn away from the church? Is that what I'm getting here? There is this easy lifestyle sitting in front of me. One that has less judgement attached to it. In a bar, everyone is accepted. In a church, if you're not already established in a group, you're not even noticed. I've talked to a lot of Christians about this, of all ages might I add, and they've all said that exact same thing. What is the point? What was God thinking giving us this....Choice? This freewill to be assholes? And what was He thinking to give me this damage that kills me? I've been increasingly angry lately. Like, really angry, and it's just another side effect of this build up.

Anyways, so after the wedding and we're walking back to the car, I was mentioning the whole thing about how this can never happen to me and that I'm too old in the church now and a few other things. And my dad says "I have a feeling things are going to start changing for you" and I blow it off. Can't even acknowledge something like that because I don't believe even a shred of it. In which I tell him and that where I am, it's just too small and no one with my interest, let alone someone in a church with my interest and he says something along the lines of "Well go out and do something. All you do is sleep all day." My only response:

And why do you think I sleep all day.

It's not rocket science. It's the only escape I have. It's all I have.

Love, Love...

Love love love love.

You were everything I wanted
You were everything a guy could be.
But you left me broken hearted
Now you don't mean a thing to me.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love


Hate is a strong word
But I really really really don't like you.
Now that it's over,
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.


Thought that everything was perfect
Isn't that how it's supposed to be?
Thought you thought that I was worth it
Now I think a little differently.
All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love


Hate is a strong word,
But I really really don't like you.
Now that it's over
I don't even know what I liked about you.
I brought you around,
And you just brought me down.
Hate is a strong word.
But I really really really
Don't like you.


Now that it's over you can't hurt me.
Now that it's over you can't bring me down.


All I wanted was your love, love
Love love love love.


~Hate (I Really Don't Like You), Plain White Ts

Speak Now

I have a lot on my mind, but haven't said anything cause I'm just not sure how to say it. I keep thinking in song lyrics which does no good for a blog since well, you can't hear said song lyrics so it just looks stupid in writing. But I'll just use them to start I guess.

"I've nothing to say." "You have many things." "Well nothing that's not been said."
~Sunday in the Park with George, Stephen Sondheim

How I feel. I do have a lot to say but nothing that I feel I haven't said before. I feel like I've been turned into a bad guy and I feel angry. I'm annoyed that even though I've stayed neutral and never insulted a group of people, or questioned other people's desires or faiths or what makes them who they are, I still get attacked and pinned as a bad person. I can't really beat around the bush with this anymore because it's just eating me and I can't be particularly metaphorical either because there's just no way to do that either. I never understand what I do to people that make them turn their backs on me. I've taught myself to not be confrontational and stay coy and demure out of fear that my normal personality and attitude are not becoming to others. Bad experience a long time ago that hasn't left me I guess. And this upsets me.

"Where did I go wrong? I lost a friend somewhere in the bitterness. And I would have stayed up with you all night had I known how to save a life."
~How to Save a Life, The Fray

Well I guess that should be pretty self explanatory. I'd like to say I feel that remorseful about the situation, but I'm getting past that point. How can I be all to blame for something? But you know what? That's what people do, they put all the blame on the other person because that's the way people's minds works. So I guess we just have to accept that and move on. And maybe I'm feeling better because I'm finally getting this out. What do they call that? Closure?

And in the words of Rachel Green ala Friends:

"I am OVER a-you. And that, my friend, is what they call... CA-LOSURE."

No more speaking is necessary.

Move On

"Look at what you want, not at where you are, not at what you'll be..."

Ah I need to watch Sunday in the Park With George again. Such a beautiful song that is. Unfortunately my TV has eaten it. Sigh.

Yea, so I guess I'm moving on. I'm certainly moving forward with my life, I know that. I'm trying to find reasons to go to the cities and I'm actually going. Had a strange thing happen where I started getting emails about a screenwriting group that meets once a month and kinda tagged along and now maybe I have a new found strength to continue on with what is my passion. Also chatting with new people online (which I still think is pathetic and I suppose slightly desperate but some of us anxiety-ridden antisocial girls need to use online methods to meet people) and finding common interests and discovering that THEY actually know how to properly interact socially and conversationally. And sure, maybe I'm having a few issues holding conversations due to still feeling floopy from past events, but I'm trying and I'm liking what I'm seeing. I'm getting more sun (possibly more sunburns) and more vitamin D and actually acting productive and purging/reorganizing all the crap I have and it's a nice change.

Needless to say, I'm going to leave the past behind. People, places, mentalities. I know what I want and I know what I can do and dammit no one is going to ruin that for me.

Now seriously, I need to get that DVD out of that TV.

Tired

I feel so exhausted. I just want one day where I don't have to go some place and talk to people or have people come to my place and talk to me. It's just been go go go since last Wednesday. And I keep getting headaches. And I keep getting those possession dreams again. Three in a week. Not a good sign. And they're not really dreams anymore. Also not a good sign.

I came to the conclusion that it's better a whole lot of people didn't express their condolences or even acknowledgement of this death. Other than maybe three friends I told and who were supportive, the rest have had no bother with it. And I know the information wasn't that hard to find. But I don't tend to share these deep personal moments on like facebook. As I see it, it is my burden to bear and I'll keep it to myself. I'm honestly more likely to share my favorite sex position or vibrator in public than what is going on with my family. I suppose the only exception is this blog, but it has more than one purpose. And I can't be held responsible for you wandering, prying eyes and the judgements you make.

That was half a joke. Ha ha.

Anyway, I think I'm getting better. I've stopped crying every night. I'm still angry and upset and still pondering our existence and worrying about how all my family is getting old and will ultimately leave me. But I suppose that's just an average day for me. Whatever.

I just want to sleep.

Borrowed Angels

First off, I want to say: Kristin Chenoweth, why you make me cry?!

Or it's my fault for listening to her "Borrowed Angels" while working on this photo slideshow. Yea, more likely my fault there. I was actually doing really, really well going through the life and times of my grandma. The cool black and white photos and the clothes and the square dancing that she was into and her gorgeous wedding dress. Then I got taken over with the bitch slapped realization that age really sucks and it's unbelievable what it does to a person and that I never knew that person as my grandma. I knew my grandma, but not all those 50-60 years before I came along. Then I'd get over that and overwhelmed with the fact that this is A LOT of work. All the while jamming to Kristin. Because that's how I roll.

And then I got to the last section. The later years section. The section that I knew her. And then it got really hard. The things I knew she loved, like Winnie the Pooh and Christmas, just got to me. And her smile and when she was really happy and how I knew it deteriorated over the years. And how it breaks my soul thinking about it and about the times I never really knew what to say to her and how I would feel bad I wasn't more compassionate-looking. And that kills me because I wasn't good at those little things like small talk and other little things. I just break. I don't think I even have a soul left now.

Hah, and then my mom walks in and I try to hide the tears by slamming my palms into my eyes. Yep, that was a good idea. Not obvious at all.

Anyway, I know I've said I'm fine and we're all fine and all, but I think that's easy to say when you can avoid what's going on. From how much I've been crying when I'm alone, I can only imagine it to be ten times worse for the daughters involved. My family is very strong though, and we do our heavy mourning by ourselves. I don't think it takes anything away from our bond, especially since we're all aware of it. And then we continue to live on. And I know there's a memory behind their eyes since there's one behind mine, but I know we're moving forward.

Although I can't be too quick to speak as seeing how the wake is tomorrow and then the funeral is Saturday and those will pretty much be the most trying times. A lot to see how long I can go without crying in front of people, and more just to see how we stand up against the mourning pressure. I would prefer to do this alone, be alone in the room and take things in and process them on my own, but I suppose that won't happen with the amount of "I'm sorry for your loss"es I'm about to encounter. It's two days. I should be able to handle that. Right?

Pure Imagination

I'm pretty numb right now. And pretty annoyed about it. My grandma is gone; passed away last night and I'm trying as hard as I can to not acknowledge reality. Unfortunately, I'm too acutely aware of my surroundings and the heaviness I feel in this house and I just don't know what to do with myself. I don't want to cry in front of my mom and aunts because I don't want them to cry. I don't completely know how they're feeling, but I can imagine. This is their mother after all. Old and ill or not, she is their mother. And sometimes I get concerned that I'm not feeling enough. My soul right now is so numb, so cut off. I always shut myself down and now I'm worried I'm not sad enough. But I'm terrible with showing emotion period, so with something like this, I'm just so beside myself.

I'm in charge of the slideshow and have been given pictures to scan, but I'm afraid to look at them. I'm afraid to see this happy healthy face when the last face I saw was barely recognizable. But I know she is in a better place and I bet she is so happy and healthy again and that's really all any of us wanted for her. I talk about death being the perfect solution so often, but now I can't even acknowledge it. I think it's the elephant in the living room. What we're all thinking but don't want to say lest we want to make each other bawl. I know we'll be ok. I know our beliefs will help us. But it doesn't stop the fact that this is a loss. This is a person we loved on this planet who no longer is with us.

I keep listening to the Glee version of "Pure Imagination." It made me cry in the episode, and well, likewise when not watching the episode. But it is a perfect song. And the little dog has suddenly become very attached to me as well. Almost always stays at my side and will only sleep in my room now. For years he always slept in my parents' room. So this is a shock. But a welcome one.

Well. That's all.

Old Blog

For fun I was looking at my old musings on myspace. Wow, it turns out the issues I'm dealing with right now have seemed to repeat themselves. History does that doesn't it? Anyway, I found a lot of fun and funny and interesting and upsetting posts, but there was one that I felt like reiterating and reliving on here. So here goes. It was called "I Have a Few Concerns"  And boy did I ever.


"...Well, I do.

I'm concerned about the shift of sexes. Since when did the men become less masculine than women? I mean, I remember the old days when a woman would go gaga for a guy she hardly knew and come on too strong and irrational and the guy would just be like "see ya!" and never look back. But suddenly guys are in fashion to be doing this and the women are the ones walking away--fast.

Women should not have to be more masculine. That was the man's job. But suddenly he's off whining of emotional distress because he's so in love with a woman that now we are the ones that need to step up and say "dude, grow balls."

Well, obviously this just means women are better. Even men become women. And women become men. But those are the women who are more ballsy than men (that should already be at that level). Tis a sad world for men.

Somewheres in the course of the past 10 years, men have been trying to reinvent themselves to be more attractive for the opposite sex. Personally I believe it is because they have gotten hornier and the lame come ons in bars aren't working as effectively anymore. Now there is an entire subculture of "sensitive, different, understanding, not average, emotional" men. Oh sigh. Suck it up. The only way a man can be emotional is if he's gay. That's when it's allowed.

Far too often, these rouses just give women a false sense of strength and maternity, that they can nurture this sappy bitch. And in turn, the men get exactly what they want--sex. Granted, they'll use all those flowery terms like "intimacy", "love making", "seriousness", when in all reality, the only seriousness they are feeling is the serious need to fuck something that's willing. Play their cards right, and these guys get plenty of willing cherries to pop because these cherries believe how different they are.

Well I say the only way a guy is different is if his motives have nothing to do with getting me in the sack. I just shattered a whole bunch of men's rouses. I don't fall for it. I don't even need to be a psychology major for this shit. In the end, the bottom line falls to sleeping with the person. Maybe you cry at The Notebook. Or are more understanding of our PMS. But that doesn't stop you from going after the one thing that makes all men the same: the physical act of fucking. Oh, and that is the flaw in your anatomy. That penis, that brain in your pants. Takes over every time doesn't it?

I bet you've convinced yourself that your fucking is really a true sign of your undying love for the other person. Well, you need to believe it in order for others to after all. It's funny how the world works now, always jumping to the most sacred (or well was) act of being in love. How on earth can you know this person is anything for you when you don't bother to learn anything else about them? Why do you not bother creating a bond deeper than fucking? You know, there's a lot more to a person than nipples and orgasms and positions. They really have something inside their head and their chest that should be more important. It's called a mind and heart.

Yes, yes, and then you say "but I do care about what's inside them." But do you really know anything about them in the end? So they had a bad relationship once. And they say they are deeper than they look. But do you really know anything real about them? Their true passions, what makes them really happy. What lights up their face? When they say they're "fun," have you bothered to test it? Have you bothered to see the context in which they say they are? Or are you too busy thinking they're a hot piece of ass and if you play your cards right and try to wow them with the depth of your "soul" they'll submit to you?

To me, the only difference between friendship and a significant other is the significant other gets the physical privileges. But friendship is the most important. Friends know everything about each other. They've grown around each other, they've helped each other, they've watched each other, they've lived with each other, they have spent the most time together. And they didn't need to fuck to be great friends. Friendship is higher priority to me easy. Having someone tell you they're a certain way isn't far enough. You need to see how they truly act, react, or interact. How they smile in person or understand in person. How they laugh. Who they talk to. What kind of facial expressions they have.

Does that sound shallow? It's not. Because all of that leads to what they are on the inside. Body language, facial expression, even the way they do their hair or dress. And you can't know that, can't absorb that, unless you are close. And sure, maybe you can do that when dating. But I don't want that added stupid pressure of "is he gonna cop a feel and hit on me now?" in my mind. That is far too serious for the simple situation of getting to know a person.

And maybe that's the problem. This society doesn't care about the simplicity it could be. This society is extreme, irrational, self serving. Since people can sleep together on a first date, everyone must. Everyone must go straight to fooling around, hooking up, friends with benefits, fuck buddies. How can you know a person for real when it's only based on sex? Maybe someone could help me out with this. Though I bet you'd say that then that just comes afterwards; that it doesn't matter what order it goes in anymore. Too bad sex is so animal that the need to really know a person doesn't matter. Or is too hard to comprehend. I mean, after all, that takes thought and work. Who wants to work?

The bottom line is, I'm concerned about guys turning into pussies. Someone must've told them we liked it. And that person lied. There's a reason they are "masculine." They are supposed to complete us. You know, the opposites rule. I'm concerned this society has created nothing original. Nothing extraordinary. Everything is average because one thought is on their mind. I'm concerned people don't understand how to learn about each other properly. That emotion--REAL emotion--is obsolete. I'm concerned everything is lines becuz men know they can get away with it. I'm concerned women will take over the world.

Well, not so much concerned as ecstatically excited for that last one."

If you find spelling errors, ignore. I did improper shorthand back in the day.

This still holds true to what I believe, but now there's a new evolution that has occurred where once you have that friend and fucker status that I talked about with someone, you can't have that friend status with anyone else anymore. John Tesh was talking about this and I just got confused. I want all my friends to be what I described up there and I want my mate to be the last fucker part that my other friends have no business being. But I don't want to degrade my experiences and statuses of these other friends down to meaningless just because I have this ultimate mate now. But you know what? Maybe because men have become so feminine I've just become so masculine that I can't even grasp concepts like "emotional infidelity" and those touchy feely words. Guess I've got a man brain now. It is unfortunate this girly girl has to have it, but SOMEONE in this world does.

Day Off

I have a day off tomorrow. I've been working like a dog. Late nights and/or early mornings. I have no muscle mass so it turns out I'm pretty useless at loading in set pieces and sound and lighting equipment onto a stage. I feel considerably pathetic because of that. But I don't get a lot of time to think about myself that much anymore. I suppose that's a good thing.

I find that I *can* communicate and interact with other people, and I am appropriate for the setting. I do take longer, yes, but I'm not socially dysfunctional. Or at least in that part. I still have the anxiety and panic, but when I can be in a slow, controlled environment, I'm ok for the most part. And I'm always looking for new friends. Shocker to admit it, I know.

Oh yes, also on every day off I get, I wake up with a migraine. So I'm not looking forward to tomorrow only for that reason. My body clearly does not know how to handle what it's been taking lately. Ah well.

Hm. Nothing to say? Could that be? Oh no, I'm sure I could think of some things to ramble off and get heated about but I'm just too tired to care.

But yay a day off tomorrow! Sleeping in! Not doing anything! Woo!

The end.

Chilling Out

So, I've officially hit every level of crazy, haven't I? Some people aren't talking to me anymore and I have a feeling it is a pretty direct result of this blog. Let me just say I don't have anyone in the real world that I can talk to about these fucked up feelings, so I turn to this partially-anonymous blog for solace. While others use the fully-anonymous viewing to steer clear away from me in the real world. Ah well.

It's funny though. For how little I talk about my private life and self in person, I sure let every little detail spill on this blog. I'm a walking contradiction.

But I'm going to try to chill out. Make my crazy go away. Ok, it won't actually go away but hopefully that intense angst fueled fire has gone out. I'll be changing the title of this thing soon. I think it's obvious now I have some sort of mental personality disorder and since I'm apparently not going to do anything to fix it, there's no reason to have this thing structured the way it is. It was once going to be about self-help, but instead it turned into a sniveling hot bed of whining and self victimizing. I'll probably change it to something along the lines of my struggles with my faith, my life, and my April Rhodes complex.

This was my proof, by the way, that no one likes a person with a mental disorder of any sort. People have always said if a person really cares about you, your downfall doesn't matter, even if it's self-loathing or self-infliction or anorexia or aspergers or borderline personality disorder. It's just not true. The people like me? The ones who were created broken or with missing parts? We're on our own. Best we can do is hide our truth, self medicate what we need, and just pray to God that we don't let our masks slip for one millisecond when we're out in the real world.

So. I'll chill. Sorry for the inconvenience of making you uncomfortable.

Good Friday

I have 15 minutes before I leave for work. I'll type fast.

Why do people celebrate Good Friday? Yea yea Jesus died for our sins praise Him. All good and well, except one problem: Jesus was MURDERED on this day. He was MURDERED for a species that DID NOT deserve the sacrifice He made. Which is why they all fall on their knees and scream "praise him." They damn well better! As far as I'm concerned they and we all should be in hell right now. And I wish we all were.

I'm not having a good day, can you tell? I'm going to a job where a pervert stalker of a 60 year old man keeps seeking me out to "talk" to me and "be nice" by trying to give me back rubs. And I'm supposed to stay in that environment for about 12 hours today. Not joking the time. Really not joking. And to top off the icing of an already 27 tiered cake, my grandma is pretty much on her death bed. So dehydrated that her kidney isn't working. She's not going to the hospital because if they pump fluid in her and her kidney still refuses to work, fluid will just collect in her body in places that aren't good. I hear she's comfortable, but I'm not. I'm not happy.

I am so angry at the world. So so so angry. I've never been this angry. I keep having Ally McBeal moments where I'm ripping heads off people that appear in front of me or screaming and having fire coming out of my mouth. Or throwing a punch and my had suddenly becomes a lion claw and I just tear through all the people I'm mad at. This is just ridiculous.

Should I be working a 12+ hour shift when I don't know how much longer my grandma has? The only reason is my dumbass employers don't keep enough people employed and I'm pretty much responsible for this entire damn day. Well, what if things come up, hm? Guess what, THEY DID! I hate you I hate you I hate you!

The end.

Where Is My Mind?

I apologize for any typos. I do not condone blogging after drinking a bit of alcohol. And I'm sorry in advance.

Seriously, I am.

I've had very few moments where the depressant of alcohol actually has kicked in. But I think this is one of those moments.

I don't condone this. Honestly, I don't. And I think it's ok that one should hate a person like me who thinks getting drunk is the only answer to one's problems. I'm totally ok with that. It's ok ya'll. It's ok. It's really ok.

And honestly, I don't know why I'm writing right now. Maybe because I couldn't find a pen to write this on a standard notebook that would ever get out to the real world. It probably would've been safer. But I've had a few drinks and I just can't muster going on a search for something like a pen in an unfamiliar home.

I seem to only bond with certain people when I'm drinking. And I'm actually not necessarily ok with that. However, it's a norm and therefore something I actually enjoy because it's become the norm. And I enjoy feeling off kilter in the world. Oftentimes I'm so centered and so strong and so undefied (not a word) that it seems like I have no weakness and no problem in the world. But I do. Oh I do.

And I don't know what I'm going to do tomorrow. It's already after 3 am and I'm apparently wide awake. Turns out I'm very good at bowling and frisbee golf on the Wii when I'm like this. But turns out I get tired of being around yet another couple. No, it's fine. It really is. They're married and they deserve each other and they should reap their benefits just fine. And I'm fine with that. But.

Who the hell am I? Who am I to come waltzing into this household once a month pretending I'm worth such a great friendship when really I've had an incredibly rocky relationship with this guy since I've known him and when this girl has moved on with her life and actually made progress? Who the hell do I think I am? Really? Who?

The truth is, except for one childhood friend who lives 5 states away, all my friends have become married couples and living some happy life. I've really enjoyed being single and doing what I thought was fun. But now, I don't even know what the hell I'm doing in life. I don't know what I want. I don't know what I feel. I know I've fucked it up. I just have that feeling. But as I was sitting in their living room in the pitch black all alone (give or take a cat or two), I just realized how hopeless I really was. I realized so much I've been denying and pretending didn't exist. But the annoying thing is just cause you pretend it doesn't exist doesn't mean it's not there.

Fact of the matter is, I don't know how to do dating or relationships. My dad was right. I meet one person one time and then I try to avoid them after that. I chalk it up to not having the "connection" there, but who the hell am I kidding? I wouldn't know what that connection was if it bit me in the ass. If it's not a drunken one night stand in which I give a fake name and walk away the next day never to return, I can't do it. You know how pathetic that is by the way? It's really pathetic. Really low. I'm just so... Low.

I also can't feel my teeth at this point. I think that's my favorite reason I like to drink. I can't feel anything. No doubt I'll wake up with bite marks and bruises and scratches tomorrow only because I wanted to test just how little I felt. It's not a big deal. Or rather, I don't think it is. I'm used to self destructive behavior, so a little bruise with teeth marks is really not a problem.

But I know there's a problem when I try so damn hard not to feel and I go out of my way to drink the highest proof alcohol I can find. I'm getting too tolerant of this stuff and I suppose that can't be good. But I really, really, like not feeling physical things. And I really like knowing I become more talkative. Especially around people I don't know how to talk to if I'm sober. I honestly don't see why it is such a crime to lubricate your interpersonal skills when you're so deathly afraid of other people as I am. This seems to be the same thing as anti-depressants. So what the hell is the big deal? I know my limits. I think.

I'm frustrated. I got my old job back at a theatre and actually felt like I had a purpose in life again. I was loving everything that was happening. Then I drove down south to spend time with friends and suddenly I got bitch slapped in the face by some sort of reality or actuality I would have preferred not to know about. Honestly, I'm just mad at myself. I probably should have never started drinking. But I value that so much. I've never valued real life and it's probably shown. I just hate it. I don't see why a person with a Christian faith or conviction needs to live on this earth or with this human life. The Bible always talks about how we belong beside our Father, God, in Heaven. So why the hell do I even need to be here? It's better I escape for the time being until I can finally die isn't it? This mortal life isn't important; eternity beside my Father is. Isn't it? I feel worthless here. I have a feeling I wouldn't feel that way if I was in Heaven. Or so I hope.

By the way, this blog title is another song from the Sucker Punch soundtrack in case you were wondering. You should look it up; it's beautiful. It shouldn't be any surprise that all I've listened to lately were songs from that soundtrack. It's just that that movie is the best escapism movie I've seen in a long time and the songs really reflect that.

And I guess with that I've lost purpose of this entry. Guess I just needed to get something out. But now I want to go to sleep and maybe pretend this never happened. Never works though. I always remember everything.

Asleep

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I'm tired and I want to go to bed
Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
And then leave me alone

Don't try to wake me in the morning
Cuz I will be gone
Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I will feel so glad to go

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore
Sing to me
Sing to me
I don't want to wake up
On my own anymore

Don't feel bad for me
I want you to know
Deep in the cell of my heart,
I really want to go

Sing me to sleep
Sing me to sleep

There is another world
There is a better world
Well there must be
There must be

There is another world


~Asleep~Emily Browning cover~Sucker Punch soundtrack.

This is all I want.

The Truth of the Matter

The truth of the matter is...

~Now that I've been so isolated from everyday society, I am more dysfunctional than ever and scared out of my mind.
~I've come to the conclusion that it's a lot easier to go to a bar to find a random hookup for the night, complete the transaction, and then be on your way the next day without ever needing to worry about the person again.
~I only say that because I've realized that I don't know how to have a decent, intimate relationship with a person that isn't strictly physical in some way. I'm afraid to talk about feelings, I'm afraid to say sincere things, and I don't have the interpersonal communication ability to even evoke that I'm interested enough in a person to go out for coffee. To top it off I'm as suspicious as hell of everyone I see.
~I'm learning I get entirely too uncomfortable when I'm in a public place and I see people looking at me. I react viscerally. And not in a good way.
~I have always insulted, battered, and mocked marriage for the sole reason I don't believe I can ever get married. People don't like crazy people. No one would want to be around this.
~Same goes with kids. I refuse to have children. These genes will go no further after me. No child deserves that.
~I am incredibly reliant on alcohol. I think about it a lot. I think about how the next time I can hang with friends where we can drink how much fun I'm going to have and how much more happy and conversational I'll be.
~I spent 10 minutes today comparing my arms to the arms of a Macy's male mannequin. I wanted to see if their ideal male figure was still bigger than my figure. I don't like the idea of being bigger than men.
~My parents have been badgering me to do something with my life. I sit silent because the only thing I want to do is scream at them "I want to die."
~I wear a lot of makeup to compensate for everything that's wrong with me on the inside. Ironically, it's probably the reason people look at me. So I'm really not doing myself any favors.
~I sleep 12+ hours a day because my dreams are so much better than my reality. I really am loving them and I can't wait to get back to them.
~I've weakened myself down so much that sometimes I feel like I can barely breathe. My reality is a desolate one, but it is the truth of me.
~My family is falling apart around me, so I'm trying to pretend there's nothing wrong with me. Between my aunt losing her job, my cousin getting a partially collapsed lung, and my grandma in the hospital from respiratory failure, my family has enough to worry about let alone some whining from some stupid pathetic suicidal psychopath of a girl.
~I really thought this would end in high school. I really just thought I was going through the usual "teenage angst" phase and that by the time I was grown up, I'd be fine and normal and stable with a lot of friends and relationships, a good attitude, healthy weight, and career. I never took into consideration that a personality disorder affects you as long as you live. But I never knew I had one.
~I keep thinking a lot about hurting myself. I know though if I'm going to do it, I better do it now. Scars last at least 2 months and soon it's gonna be too warm to wear long sleeves all the time.
~I get really freaked out when I know people have been talking about me or thinking about me or taking me into consideration for something. It just feels weird. I live with the mentality that the 7 billion people on this world don't give a damn about you so I just assume literally no one does, friends or otherwise.
~I just don't understand why I can't find true peace in my faith. After my "entity touching me" incident, I haven't had anymore incidents, and only a few possession dreams that weren't as intense before, but I'm not any happier. And I don't want to whine to God about my problems, so I guess I don't talk to him as much as I have in the past. I mean seriously, can you say self-centered? God doesn't need that.

And the truth of the matter is...

Moot.

Screw You Rollercoaster

Update on my non-existent no-one-gives-a-damn life:

I had a second interview for a production intern. All seemed well, I seemed in, she seemed ready to get me going, she was going to get schedules worked out and then email everyone...

Week and a half later and nothing. And this time, I'm beyond the point of fighting for this shit. Whoever these people are, they are assholes. They lied about positions for me and they couldn't even give me a "sorry we just don't think you're right" email out of gratitude. If this is the industry, count me out. I don't need to be around lying, disrespectful, pretentious assholes. Ya'll can go to hell. You hear that God? They're going to hell.

And I'll still play the "God has a plan for me and I'll let him lead me" card, but I can't wait for something that is never going to happen. I just wanted to know if I was going in the right direction career-wise or if I should start looking for some clerical assistant position to be with for the rest of my life. I didn't get an answer. But I didn't get this chance on a film, so I guess that means I need to clip my wings, knock myself off this pedestal, and submit to a typical Midwestern lifestyle. I can live at home, work in an office, and go out to the bars on weekends.

Speaking of bars and weekends... This past weekend I actually decided to drive the three hours south to visit a friend who was celebrating her husband's birthday. Oh there's a lot of back story with us three needless to say, but I bit the bullet because I have been SO isolated. Haven't been hanging out with my friends up here because I hit my quota of coupleness. So how ironic I went down to spend a weekend with another couple. Hypocrite much?

It turned out to be ok, and possibly more pleasant than my usual normal visits with friends up here. Although the drinking part may have helped that. I told my mom I could handle being around him if I was drunk, and I was right. But also it was nice because she has girlfriends that we can hang out with as well. And they all have boyfriends, but that wasn't the big deal. It was girls' night out. And it was fun going out to Chinese, just the five of us. In a lot of ways, I really just wanted to stay down there. I'm not doing anything with my life, so there's no reason I can't just stay at some random person's house and hang and not do anything there with them. And I think the hubby wanted to bond with me a little more. And honestly? I kinda wanted to bond with him a bit more too.

Downside. I cannot be in environments with cats. Even though they had a very nice closed off guest room I could sleep in, it did not stop my allergies from attacking me. By the end of the weekend I could barely talk from a sore throat, and my sinuses were relentless. Two days later and I'm still fighting off a sinus infection. I would love to go visit them again. But if that happens, I'm staying at a hotel.

Best part of the weekend is I didn't have to think about anything. I could just have fun and wonder what hairstyle I would do the next day. The second I came home, a rush of disappointment and pain came screaming back to me. Now I'm back in a limbo of dissatisfaction, frustration, and turmoil. Nothing changed over the weekend. And of course it wouldn't have because I have to change it. But I'm still stuck trying to understand who I am and where to go. The girls I hung out with were all nurses, which was cool and I liked hearing their stories. But I didn't completely fit after all. I'm a wild card. People say I'm unique, but being unique doesn't make your path of life any easier.

I guess it's a good thing I'm still sick. I'm allowed to go to bed early (er). And I'm allowed to dope myself up on medication. I really hope I sleep through the night this time.

So screw you, rollercoaster of emotions. You're done. No more ups and downs. I'm back to the down. Just how I like it.

Rollercoaster Part 2

This is called irony: Going off on an angry rant about how people don't call you back after a job interview only to find out the next day they email you and say they want you to come in and talk to the director to be his assistant. Hah.

So of course I email back enthralled out of my mind saying I'm open the next days he suggested so whatever would be their convenience I would be fine with. Then nothing.

Wow, is this what the film industry is all about? I would think there are deadlines and a fast paced environments where they need all the people (especially lackeys) that they can get as soon as possible. And if someone is practically throwing themselves at you, you'd snatch them up as soon as possible. It's free help. And much less of a load for you. I would take advantage of that. I also have a feeling I would be scheduling when to hire what and how soon to help for the short nature of pre-production. But I'm sure it's been insane crazy over there and I can't really talk since I've never done any of it before. I just think I could benefit them greatly since I thrive on schedules, structure, and organization.

Anyways, few days later I emailed him pretty bluntly to say "when can I come in." Next day, got a phone call saying the director is holding off on the idea of an assistant, but they'd love to put me in a different department. I chose the art department, he said he'd pass my resume along that way, and thus was the end of that. And that phone call was two days ago.

I'm not feeling at breaking point like I did last time about this whole thing. Is this God's way of toughening me up for the industry? Spose it could be. And that's fine. I'm going to need to be resilient and brazen and aggressive in this, I can tell. Ok, bring it on. I can't see myself doing anything else so I'm going to fight tooth and claw for this. And if all else, it's the art department, they deal with sets and props a majority of the time so maybe there is a good chance of me getting to work during filming. After all, it doesn't start filming til the 21st. There is still always hope. Until April, there will be hope.

And until April, I've decided to hold off looking too terribly hard for any temp jobs or anything here. Finally got the ok from my mom and I think my dad had been fine with whatever scheme I had concocted in my head since I moved back here. For me, the idea of getting this chance to work on a movie isn't about the glory or the name or the credit, but my identity. I spent a lot of time with a few friends this past weekend (and finally got to drink a little again since New Year's Eve), but the more I'm with them, the stronger I feel a bit of a separation in who we are as well-defined adults. We're no longer 15 years old running around in malls and having absolutely everything in common because we're 15. We are adults with clear interests and points of views and beliefs and passions. And it's scary in a way to think that because of this stage, we're not nearly as close nor will we ever be again. There's no reason to not spend time with them and have fun and all, but conversations are shallow. Deep topics are not delved into. I mean, we're not shallow like vain or anything, but it's a lot of surface conversations. Shows we like to watch, where we ate out last time, what our Sims characters have been up to, sometimes I throw Chenoweth in there, and music is always up there as well. And if we're at their house, there are puppies and they are the things I gravitate to the most. You don't have to talk to dogs if you don't want to. I find I talk to them more.

For me, keeping the identity and air of the cities is very important. I've been looking for a way to get out there at least once a week just so I stay connected to it and maybe meet new people over there. You could never tell if that would lead to a potential roommate situation or a job offer. And after I was told by a person I respect as a city dweller that he would have never known I was from the country, I want to keep that. I do dress a little differently than the country, if I go out anywhere, no matter how short a time, I wear make up. I think it's subdued and natural, but around my friends I can see where it looks made up. Yes, I always wear mascara because it makes my eyes pop. And sometimes my eye shadow shades look a bit dark or smoky, but once again because they make my eyes pop. I don't wear crazy lip colors or get my nails done, and I don't wear skinny jeans (hips are too big), but I like heels and dark wash jeans. And for the winter I enjoy my peacoat and I'm sorry it's from Guess. I also love my Eileen Fisher arm warmers. But that's my personal style and I never try to out-do anyone.

Plus, I'm just thrilled to see arm warmers as an official fashion trend. I've been wearing them since high school back when they were "punk" and "goth" and so not in.

I know the way we look shouldn't be a big deal, but I think we all know by now that sometimes it is. It's just a matter of where I feel comfortable I guess and sometimes I wonder what my group of people would be if I was living over in the cities for a much longer period of time than I got to. And sometimes I get scared that I'll go back too much to the defeatist blue collar country attitude. And that scares me. Sure, no job I'd get here would be any level up lackey minimum wage status, but it's the mentality that I see all around me that I don't have nor do I want to have it. And over the weekend? I was a little scared because if you observed us from the outside, we were in situations I never wanted to be a part of. Situations that almost fit the stereotype I was trying so hard not to join.

And that's why until I know for sure this movie thing isn't going to pan out, I'm not quite ready to bite the bullet yet. And if I do, I WILL. I know when to sacrifice. I know when it's time to do something that really isn't favorable, but I need to do it for the greater good. And I won't complain because I know. And it probably won't be the worst thing in the world because I will at least be socializing and around people and face it, even the most introverted of introverts (that would be me) still need to meet their quota of socialization. In the end, I'm not above anyone else. I don't fit properly, no. But I am no holier than the next nor do I deserve any special recognition or treatment. I just need to try to keep an identity of a better life intact within.

Music

Oh, wanted to follow up with a song that made me burst out crying on a car ride to apply for jobs with my dad. It was an awkward moment and I think he was a bit mortified.


Yesterday I died, tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight
The future's open wide, beyond believing
To know why hope dies
Losing what was found, a world so hollow
Suspended in a compromise
And the silence of the sound, soon to follow
Somehow, sundown

And finding answers
Is forgetting all the questions we called home
Passing the graves of the unknown

Cuz reason clouds my eyes, with splendor fading
Illusions of the sunlight
And the reflection of a lie will keep me waiting
Love gone, for so long
And this day's ending
Is the proof of time killing all the faith I know
Knowing that faith is all I hold.

And I've lost who I am
And I can't understand
Why my heart is so broken
Rejecting your love
Without love gone wrong
Lifeless words carry on
But I know
All I know
Is that the end's beginning
Who I am from the start
Take me home to my heart
Let me go
And I will run
I will not be silenced
All this time spent in vain
Wasted years, wasted gain
All is lost
Hope remains
And this war's not over
There's a light
There's the sun
Taking home shattered ones
To a place we belong
And his love will conquer all

Yesterday I died
Tomorrow's bleeding
Fall into your sunlight

~"Shattered" Credit goes to Trading Yesterday

Rollercoaster

Had something so fantastically awesome happen to me. I applied to be an intern for an indie movie in the "general area" aka next biggest city over because well, that's what I've wanted to do for so long. My dream career is in the film industry and I have to get experience somehow. So on a whim emailed in my resume and availability. Next day I got a call, talked with the production coordinator and scheduled a time to come in and do an interview. How thrilling! Life just suddenly took off, it was fantastic. In a few short days I could be well on my way to bigger things. Yes, long hours, no pay as an intern, small pay if I got moved up to set PA, but it was the experience and connections I was dreaming of. Yea, there was sacrifice involved, I'm an hour and a half away. But it's my self sacrifice and it is worth it because the experience is the key.

So I got a hotel room for the night before my interview and decided to go drive and find the place the night before so I'd know where I'd be going and lo and behold, I get a call to reschedule. Which isn't that untypical in the industry. Things come up and throw other things off easily, especially when still in the pre-production process. And it wasn't a huge deal, though I ended up having this hotel room for no reason. But I just went shopping then the next day. Ever the girly girl.

When the interview time did come, it was crazy. Super exciting walking into this awesome production building that just went on for miles it seemed. The people were young and professional and definitely not from the country. Talked with two guys, and it was a pretty generic "this is who I am, what I've done, what I see, and what I like" and things seemed well. He mentioned a director's assistant position that I'd be a good candidate for and all I could think of was "that would be so much better than intern!" The one concern was my location, which I tried to assure was not a problem (as clearly it wasn't if I was already staying in hotels for them). One mentioned maybe I should come in again, and ultimately they agreed they'd let me know over the weekend.

The weekend ended three days ago.

I just want to say, I'm not the kind of person who has this desire to walk around ecstatically happy my entire life. I don't believe that is achievable and I believe it's foolish. Contentment is the best I ask for. So when you throw something above ecstatic in my path and make me actually believe it and then rip it out from under me, I'm not ok with it. I am ok with living sadly actually. I'm really fine with that. But I'm not ok with my emotions being toyed with. If you want me down, just keep me down. Don't lift me up briefly with hope and then kick me back down and continue kicking me. Because for the first time in a month, I was actually feeling really good. And now I'm at rock bottom again.

I know people are constantly rejected a lot, but I don't even have the courtesy of being in an area where my job interest is available. So when something comes along, it's rare. And when I'm rejected, it makes it all the more difficult to see a future of trying again. I've always known the risk this industry poses with criticism and rejection and competition, and I have always been willing to take that on. God knows why, I certainly don't since I hate all three of those things. But this is the only industry I see myself in, so I can push that aside and battle through them. But I'm over here now, in the middle of nowhere. Just another country hick. No connections, no options. I just needed this one time to just get my name around. And now? There may as well be a brick wall that hour and a half between here and there. I'm isolated again.

I tried so hard to not get my hopes up, or at least pretend I wasn't. Clearly it didn't work. Clearly I'm paying for it. I'm always paying. Everything happens for a reason, and so far it seems that reason is that I'm supposed to feel punished. What did I do wrong that warrants this? I mean, I'm not a saint I suppose. I try to not be objectable in God's eyes, but let's face it, I have a potty mouth, I like going out and lying to random strangers, I enjoy being drunk, I constantly wish the entire world and it's inhabitants were burning in hell, I don't read the Bible much, and I'm having issues praying. I suppose that's good enough to put me in the hot seat. It's this karma thing, God or no God. I guess my karma isn't very good. And it looks like it doesn't have an expiration date, so things I've done 10 years ago still affect what happens to me today.

And I'm so angry at them! Was it because of my location? That's not a big fucking deal and I'm pretty sure they knew it since they all started low on the totem poles themselves once and probably had to do the same damn thing! Was it because I was a little intimidated and hesitant? I never mentioned that once, and I tried not to show it, but face it, when someone tells you you'll be with the director 24/7 pretty much taking notes of everything he does and what he says and what people say to him, I think it's a little understandable to be taken aback. So it would have been a huge change from this stagnant lifestyle I'm stuck in, so what? I was scared, yes, I was. But I was going to fucking do it because that is my fucking desire and I will do it fucking well because I give fucking 200 percent because I don't know how to give anything less! And now it turns out I really would have liked that lifestyle. Because I'm back being stagnant and worthless and meaningless and lost and I just want to die.

The cruelest fate given to man is life.

Recaps

Okey dokey. Recap on the past week (Don't know why I need to give one, but I'm going to.):

I went back to a volleyball league at a bar that I used to play in with coworkers. Funny thing is, now we have two teams instead of one, and there is only one coworker left. The funnier thing is the three people I asked to come with to substitute once in a while back in the day are now official members of the teams. First day I showed up, they were telling me that they were talking the other day about how they even knew each other and then remembered "Oh yea, Elle introduced us! Where is she? She just brings people together and disappears."

That statement is pretty much how I've always lived my life. I try to become a part of something, and maybe I am for a little while, but I never feel completely comfortable and ultimately I disappear from it.

Moving on. Some of my friends have reached out to me a bit since I came back home and want me to spend weekends with them and such so I have. They just got puppies a few months ago and I love playing with them. I also admit that I can really notice that this was actually "reaching out." For so long in my life I've been used to being solitary and content at that so when people said what are you doing this day and I can't do something with them, I just blow off the idea of ever hanging with them period because it never occurred to me I should. Things are getting more clear to me with these invites and the tones of voices that these people are serious about me spending time with them, even if it is only to get out of this solitary household.

I have also now officially visited one of my closest friends who's married and lives a little south of me. I've avoided it because I really don't like her husband much. Maybe he's ok now, but I just remember he was a jerk to her a lot when they were younger and he'd get drunk and play Halo all day and night with his brothers. And ironically I was the maid of honor in their wedding. It's funny, I know. And when I visited it wasn't really bad or anything. I suppose I could handle going down there for a weekend to go out with her and stuff since I think she likes me more than the girls she knows down there. And if we all remember correctly, I suddenly enjoy drinking and being out somewhere where I can lie about who I am. It's really a wonder I haven't gone down there and done it sooner.

Oh yea, I've also got my old job back at the theatre I worked in. Well, technically I guess it hasn't been official yet, but the paperwork is done and such and I know they like me and want me back and need me back so I'm pretty much saying I have it back. February is slow, so there isn't much opportunity for me to work there at the moment. But it'll pick up. This is the slow part of the show season. Of course, this isn't good enough for my parents and they're harping on me to go find a real job. But honestly, when I hear that, I just feel weak and I close up. It's too sensitive, this job thing. Going from some place with the most potential in art and film to a place where the best potential is in a convenience store is just so hard for me to grasp. I don't want to look snobbish or pretentious, but inside I'm having a difficult time working that out.

The other night I had something happen to me that was straight out of a horror movie. It's not impossibly outrageous, but it's outrageous enough that I haven't bothered telling friends or family (except my parents) because it would be denied as reality. Yet I know very well it was. I fell asleep with a headache and had an herbal heat wrap over my forehead to soothe it. A few hours later I woke up on my back and could only see through a little spot between the wrap and my nose. Not ten seconds after my eyes adjusted, something round and pitch black moved in front of my vision and covered it completely. A second later, it felt like something was rubbing my stomach. There were a lot of "God help"s being cried out, and it did fade. But it was a literal fade. Something that didn't belong was in my room and touching me? That really isn't ok. And I'm all too connected to the spiritual side of how the world works that this time I knew it wasn't just a trick of the mind. Needless to say, I now sleep with a night light, music playing, and a Bible beside me. Hasn't happened again. But that doesn't mean I don't expect it to happen any day now.

Speaking of such matters, I actually went to a church service the other Sunday ago. It was all right. Just fine actually. I never usually have a problem with the actual services and I'm not sure I ever have, but I didn't feel any more in place or accepted. Once again I couldn't tell the demographic of where I was, but I certainly couldn't spot any people that I identified with. It's a problem, questioning where you're supposed to belong in this faith and then having violent dreams of possession and ultimately something in your very presence in the real world touching you. Sometimes I just sit wondering. Who am I? What am I? And is what I think having faith is enough?

Well ok then. Til next time.

Living the Dream

So today a friend on Facebook updated her status to something about how she was so happy about life and that she was living the dream life she always wanted. I blew it off, as I often do with her, but now coming back to it, I'm disappointed. It's true, she is doing well now. Just graduated in nursing, now a nurse, able to be on her own and live a real independent life, and that's awesome. But I just get this sinking feeling.... That's what I've always wanted, to live my dream. And I've failed. There is nothing left.

I've been to three post-secondary schools. Count that, THREE.  Two of them I have gotten degrees that do not benefit me in where my interests lie. The third one I was lucky enough to have a tree fall on me to get me out of going to a school that wasn't working for me. And the sad thing is, that program WAS supposed to be what I'm interested in. My gosh, I've invested all this money and work and shit and all I've done was fail from it. I should never have gotten those first two degrees. I should have followed my heart, what I KNEW wasn't going to change about myself and pursued filmmaking accordingly. Instead I got some office assistant diploma and some fucking bullshit degree in "Information and Communication Technologies." I don't even know what that means. And I was in the damn program. And now all I do is look up schools that I COULD have gone to back when I actually had the financing that actually looked like something I could succeed from. And now all I feel is... I can't describe it.

It's past disappointed, discouraged, disgusted, depressed, frustrated, anxious, angry, worthless, sickening. It's this hole in my body that has swallowed all of me. I was just so determined to be the one from the little hicktown I'm from to take on my ambition and unique interest in film and screenwriting and grab the bull by its horns, succeed, and feel like a real accomplishment in life. Instead I moved to a huge city under a false pretense only to come moving back home to hicksville not even two years later. I just don't know how I did this to myself.

No, I know. I listened to my dad when he taught me how to cut corners in the education system. And I believed him when he said I couldn't get a degree in theatre or film because I couldn't earn a living in either. And I school hopped and transferred all I could. I only got the ICT degree because it was the program that transferred the most credits from my first diploma. It wasn't anything I wanted, but I believed that it would make things ok because it was "real." But if I can't even describe what the major was, how could I think it would be ok? And I suppose he had my best interest in mind. But it was a waste. If I could, I would've just stuck to an office assistant degree and I'm sure by now I'd be a very happy receptionist with a steady 9-5 job and income. You don't understand how much I wish I could just be that. Or an accountant. But I can't see myself in anything but film. And now it is just killing me. I wasted all opportunity and money and now all I have are broken desires and dreams that just consume me in every breath I take.

I just want to curl up and sleep and never wake up. I can't feel anything else. And maybe I'll just sleep and sleep and sleep tomorrow. I am getting concerned that now I go to bed earlier and I'm still sleeping in later and getting over 13 hours of sleep sometimes. May as well sleep my life away. My room is the only private place I have left to myself. I can't stand always being around people in a house. And it's only been a week and a half since I moved back. Hah, I'm not sure I can survive to the end of February. Actually, I don't think I can.

The "Make Myself Feel Better" Challenge

So this has been in the works in my head for a while now, but I finally decided to do something about it. I have not felt particularly good about myself for quite some time, and pretty much now that I'm back home I really want to focus on fixing myself. I know this will take a lot. It's gonna involve therapy and dieting and working out and finding a job and hankering down on my screenplay and it's gonna be a lot of ridiculous nonsense, but if it can make me feel better about myself, I have to do it. So today was step one. Day one. I've vowed to work out every day for two hours indefinitely. I don't really have much of a timeline, but I found a swimsuit I got a year or two ago that I really love and decided I was going to try to fit back into it. Don't know *when* I want to fit into it, I guess in theory the sooner the better, but being February I'm not seeing much of a rush. However I'm an impatient person who tends to get discouraged easily so I figure if I go with a somewhat rigorous regimen then maybe I'll see results quicker. I hope.

So that's what I did. Put on the swimsuit, discovered just how much weight I've gained, took "before" pictures that NO ONE will ever see cause well, ew, measured my bust, waist, low waist, and hips to find I'm pretty disproportionate and that I don't even have the measurements that fit the "hourglass" shape, recorded it all and proceeded to work my ass off. Ran out of things to do so I only managed an hour and a half, but that's good enough. Most of it was cardio which was the main need anyway.

Shallow? You betcha. Skin deep? Hell yes. Vain? Fuck yea. But there is something to be said for feeling better about who you are on the outside. When you're unhappy with that, you tend to be unhappy with everything about yourself. Or at least I am. I just want one part of me to look nice. I've got a lot of mental baggage to deal with, but at least if I knew I looked decent in a swimsuit or at least healthy, it'd be a start. Physical appearance is a terrible confident buster and anyone who says otherwise is lying. Or else they're Victoria's Secret models. And I'm not looking to turn into a size zero, but I am looking to turn into a healthy person. And seriously, I just want to feel good about ONE thing about myself, even if it is just what I look like. And maybe I will feel better. After all, exercise releases happy endorphins or so I hear...

Birthdays

So tomorrow is my birthday. Ok, well, technically I guess it's today since it's 2 AM. But I really won't count it until I have gone to sleep and woken up again. It's a really screwed up birthday (as every birthday/holiday in the past 3 years have been) because I've been schlepping all my stuff from my apartment back home because yay, I no longer have an apartment in a city! I get to live back in the middle of nowhere as a townie. So not ok. But it's the fucking tree's fault. Had it not tried to kill me and broken my leg, I would have been working the past 5 months so I could afford to stay in the cities. Is that an excuse? It sounds like one. But it's also a true statement. But it's still frustrating.

Well anyways, I really have this hankering to go out for my birthday. Dress up all flashy and glittery like a city girl and go with a group of friends and have the time of my life. I've never been the kind to go out to bars to celebrate anything, you must realize. I'm really not into the drunken whore lifestyle that is pretty much a bargoer. I just want to go out so I can pretend to be someone else. The only other time I pulled it off so flawlessly, it was just so much fun. I'm just dying to go out there and make up a backstory for myself, give myself a new personality, and just go have fun. I don't give a damn about the people I lie to. I'll never see them again. If they're hanging out at bars they're probably scum anyways so they deserve being lied to.

And this is what I discovered: I love lying. I'm sure hoping it won't become one of those compulsive things like on Girl, Interrupted because well then I have to go to a nut house. And I don't just tell lies to lie. I just like lying about myself. I like pretending to be someone else. I hate who I am and every personality I come up with in my head is just so much better than reality. And I figure, now that I'm back to this pathetic place, I *should* go out more and pretend I'm a real city girl. That I'm classier than this country scum and I'm only here because I'm on "hiatus" from the cities. I could even say I grew up there and everything. No one needs to know the truth. I don't care about them enough to get past that initial first impression talk. I just want to be someone else. And I want to go back to the cities. Right before I left, a screenwriting classmate told me he would have never known I was from the country and that I looked like a city girl all along. I want to try that out.

Oh, I don't know if I hate the country. I hate hicks and rednecks, but who doesn't? I think there's more to life than blue collar comedy and the Red and Green Show anyways. It's true, us country girls are tough. We like to get dirty, not afraid of bugs and snakes, don't care about breaking nails, will climb onto the bed of any pickup truck when packing it up, and those are some great qualities that any female should have if she wants to be taken seriously. But I don't fit in in the country. The small town life I've never worked well with. I just have different interests than what is here and therefore I tend to have a solitary lifestyle when I live here. A lot of the time I've learned that if it wasn't for internet forums about certain non mainstream interests, I wouldn't have many people to talk to. Can I help it if the people who share some of them happen to live in Germany or the Philippines? That's just the way my life has always been. I'm unique. I don't fit here. So I think I'd just rather lie about who I am until I leave. For other people, and myself.