Twenty-Seven Spalis of Twenty Eleven

I feel like I haven't posted anything in months. (It's only been eleven days).

I recently finished a really incredible novella, and now I'm going to start Pandora's Star.

I honestly don't feel like I have much to say. I've been incredibly excited for Halloween and there's only about 5 weeks of school left! Sweet!

Well, as much as I used to hate it, I can't stop listening to the Aperature Science Musical Device.

I'm pretty sick of feminism. Modern (or third/fourth) wave feminists aren't looking for rights; they're trying to be better than men. In fact, they have already achieved it and it sickens me. All the cruel hypocrisy about what women can (violently) do to men without a complaint, and women are still whining about the society's view of women as sexual beings.

Honestly, even as a woman, feminism is a pretty sick thing.



'Crinkled skies hold stars behind them,
shattered dreams reveal her hope.
It's time to make that left turn,
and embrace what we've known.
Stop fighting,
start falling,
live,
love,
laugh.'

Sixteen Spalis of Twenty Eleven

Seventeen phone calls, four Skype calls, two texts, three skype messages, two answering machine messages, one message on AIM, and two hours later, I'm starting to give up hope. I wait thirty minutes and it was like he disappeared. I tried everything, but the phone won't even ring anymore. I wait on Skype for minutes while it rings, hoping and praying that I'll be able to talk to him soon. But nope.

I'm sure he's just gone to bed. He was just tired...I'm sure. But am I? Normally he at least says goodnight, or messages me or something. He couldn't be mad at me without saying so, could he?

I just miss him so much.

I've been talking about him with my friends. Today I even said, "I should probably be engaged by then."

I so desperately crave a ring on my finger.

I'm too anxious to sleep; I can't do my homework either. I don't know what to do; try to sleep, I guess.

I just want to know where he's gone off too...I miss him.

'Til the shadows disappear,
through the Hundred Acre Woods,
up to the skulls,
and through the forests,
I cross and bear weight,
my driving force,
my longing for you.'

Fifteen Spalis of Twenty Eleven

Tonight, it started with a video.

I've felt this need building inside me for a few weeks now. Something dying to be pushed out, but there was never enough push. I cried yes, but I still haven't had the good cry I've been needing. I know it's coming soon. But it leaves me with an emptiness in my stomach that makes me more solemn than I was to start.

Why does this even matter?

People have always said that it's the little things that count.

NO. FUCK THIS SHIT.

I stood up for myself. Something I grew up with. I provided the facts and my beliefs that came with it. I explained that it was something I had never used and wasn't comfortable with. AND YOU'RE ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY SAYING YOU'RE GOING TO HOLD IT AGAINST ME?

WELL, EXCUSE ME, PRINCESS, BUT YOU'RE QUITE THE HYPOCRITE. I took a stance, you took a stance. But the phrase, "I could never marry a girl who didn't cook with stick butter" is a little too much. I'm part of this relationship too. I should get my say. You took me back, so you accepted the fact that I deserved a say again. I'm so sorry that I decided to have my say. (Or maybe I shouldn't use sorry there since you hate it so much).

At least I would never toss someone out over something so petty as a dairy product.

'Fire and ice,
the winds of hell whip.
The red falls to the lava pits,
engulfed in destruction,
destroyed with misery.'

I realize I couldn't fight anymore. I just sat there, consumed by something so overwhelming that I knew I couldn't fight it and I couldn't stop it. It was everywhere. It forced itself over my entire body, in my hair, my eyes, covering my arms and legs; it surrounded me. I lost. There was no fight I could win against this. Hopefully it will stop feeling so annoying.

I think the struggle is that I want to be heard and thus, I must be defiant.

Fourteen Spalis of Twenty Eleven

I've been looking forward to today for weeks. I've been planning, preparing, and packing. I was excited for the weekend. But not anymore.

I hate this blood that stains my hands. It violates me. I hate this blood that smells of death and shame. I hate this feeling of hiding. I hate the ignorance that comes. I hate the difference. I hate wearing both when I was supposed to find a solution. I'm tired of the doctors telling me that it's normal. I'm sick of the doctor's telling me I'm too young. I'm hate the pain that it brings to me, the suffering that I cannot fight. I hate that medication won't take this away. I hate the way it won't leave and this is something I may battle with for the rest of my life.
I kind of just hate everything at this point.

I've been sitting in a small, but popular coffee shop. Luckily it's filled with adults and no snobby hipsters but I am following such a stereotype. But I don't mind. :3

I've been strongly addicted to Etsy, nowadays. Everything on it is really cute. I've also been pretty into Steampunk. I LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE this costume:


But I love Steampunk in general. It's adorable and videogame-y. How could it not be cute?!

'Forward motions,
rocking oceans.
Luna pulls,
we run away from the bulls.
A ball is formed,
with play-doh along the surface.

Only a moment ago I was sitting. In a hot, loud room. I sat there for twenty minutes. Waiting. Trying to muster courage, but failing. I just sat. I watched the washing machines spin; I watched their timers slowly fall to zero. I wait for someone to come, but no one ever did. I didn't care either. I hated that room, but I didn't care that I was sitting there. I'm beginning to feel the apathy I haven't felt in years and it's not even a feeling; it's a nothing.

Eleven Spalis of Twenty Eleven

I got this letter in my mailbox today. It's a questionnaire about my university life. They don't ask me to turn it in anywhere, but I might as well answer the questions because fuck you.

Why did I choose to attend [University Name Here]?
I wanted to attend a school that had a good medical program so that I could become the best doctor I could be. I also chose this college because it doesn't snow here and it isn't the school I hate.

Have my experiences in college matches what I expected?
Nope. (Chuck Testa). Personally, I expected college to be more frustrating than college. And it has, in some aspects; however, it is FAR easier overall.

How hopeful and optimistic about the future am I?
What do you want? A scale of one to ten?! Uh, maybe a six or something, ay? Look, the economy sucks and what sucks more than that is the city I'm living it right now. I think I can definitely make it through college, in fact, I have no doubt, but at the same time I have to debate whether I'll make it through payments of eleven fucking years of school. (I still don't understand this concept. I'm going to for a job that helps society and the government and it takes eleven years of school and the government isn't going to pay for one dollar of it?!)

What inspires and motivates me?
Anything relating to my career does. Honestly, any reference to a psychological disorder and I am so ecstatic about my job! But motivation is different. I push myself. I want to be great so that I can raise my husband and be fabulously wealthy. I want to show my family that I'm smart.

What makes me intelligent?
"intelligence, n. 1. The faculty of understanding; intellect. Also as a count noun: a mental manifestation of this faculty, a capacity to understand." -The Oxford Dictionary
Uh, my brain and neurological connections make me intelligent. My IQ makes me intelligent, and thus my genetics make me intelligent. (What a stupid question).

What is interesting to me?
Basically everything.
-If I were to create a special interest club on campus, what would it be?
Psychological disease awareness.
-About what am I curious?
Like I said before, basically everything. Except conservative closed minded anti-abortion bullshit.
-About what am I passionate?
Animals, Jesus, the arts, music, film, novels, criminally insane people, writing, poetry, my boyfriend, world hunger, peace, the schoolwork, the government, the president, the upcoming elections, Congress and its Congressmen, et cetera!
-What do I find fulfilling, satisfying?
Lots of things are satisfying that aren't fulfilling. Like Skittles. I fucking love Skittles; they're delicious. They satisfy me. But they aren't fulfilling. Achieving goals is pretty fulfilling. Doing something good that I convinced myself to do. Finding the time to do new things.

How good am I at being focused? Persistent? How do I respond when I come across things that are difficult?
I'm easily focused, but I don't like to work. However, difficult and easy tasks I look at with the same perspective-something that needs to be done. It'll get done. The amount of time it takes shouldn't be a determination of difficulty.

Think about a recent experience where you were so focused and involved that you lost all track of time-What was I doing? What was it about this experience that made it all-consuming for me?
I can think of lots of times where I lost track of time. -wink- Like today, I was playing Diablo II and then BLAM-O, it's five o'clock. It happens with Minecraft all the time.

Think about the last time you were really excited about something-What made it exciting?
Last time I was excited was when my boyfriend came over for the weekend. I was excited because I knew I was going to have a good time and that he would too. I was excited because I had hopes that the visit would go well. Just like I am currently excited for the showing of "Human Centipede 2: Full Sequence" at the Royale. It's due to the fact that I have high expectations that the movie will make me happy.

How do I rate my college experience so far?
Someone should have asked me last week. It's been okay. Scale of one to ten, maybe a five. Classes are alright and teachers are okay. Sometimes neat little shops come to campus. Honestly, the city I live in is just kind of shitty so it sucks. Furthermore, there have been some really shitty campaigns for anti-abortion out on the Mall today and yesterday. It's sickening. There are pictures of aborted fetuses all over. It's disgusting. There are a few things I'd like to ask the anti-abortion people:
What if the mother and father would abuse the child?
What if the mother smokes, drinks, or does illegal drugs while pregnant?
What if the child is born into a family that can't afford to feed it and it starves to death?
What if the child will be brain dead when born?
What if the child will lead a life of suffering before dying?
What if the child is born with a terminal disease like AIDS?
What if the child is left somewhere to die because the parents don't want it?
What if the parents give the child shaken baby syndrome and then leave it somewhere?
What if the child will be born with severe disformations of the body and will never be able to lead a normal life?
What if the child has to grow up in a orphanage and go through multiple abusive foster homes?
IS IT WORTH IT?
(P.S. I fucking hate people who hate abortion. You gave consent to have sex and get pregnant. You give consent to get that tiny, dinosaur looking parasite the fuck out of you.)

What has been my most positive experience at [University Name Here]?
I got my English grade (for my first essay) back and received a 95%. The teacher also requested that I send her a copy for a future example for the students and that I should submit it to the essay contest.

Think about a time as a college student when you enjoyed working on a class assignment or project-What made that enjoyable and engaging?
Hahaha. Classwork being enjoyable. Ha.

What are my academic strengths?
Definitely writing. I love to write, so essays are my forte at the moment.

How do I best learn?
Repetition and voice. Well, sometimes voice. I can remember things that are said and repeated to me.

What have I found difficult as a college student?
Writing essays with no real format. I feel like I need direction to go before I can get anywhere.
"Directive"

How strong is my sense of gratitude-my appreciation of the opportunities I have and the realization that things could be a lot worse?
I would say strong. Although I complain about tiny things, I truly value every bit of my life. And I thank Jesus for it every day.

'The sun is rising,
before it breaks,
she sprawls across the grass.
And rubs her fur,
before it wakes,
along the summer's back.'

Ten Spalis of Twenty Eleven

I got caught up in some LGBTQ videos for Coming Out Week (which is this week) and I found this song, ""I'm Da Best". It's not my favorite by Shunda K, but it's still pretty fucking good.

Oh, and for whoever may ever read my blog, I like girls and boys. Bisexual is still LGBTQ. Fuck off, haters.

I've got this little light that smiles on me all the time. Makes me warm when I should be cold and makes me feel together when I'm lonely. That is love. I used to hate it. I despised how it was thrown around and tossed away. I knew it was abused to get sex and get abused lovers to stay. It's be trashed, tarnished, and spit on. Even though I hated it, I believed.

I always used to tell her that when I met my soul mate, I would cut his dick off. Well, I think I found him and I'm not going to cut it off.

Now, my love is manifesting itself into a physical being. It's starting to form plans instead of just dreams and "wouldn't that be amazing"s. It's starting to become dialogue and blessings. "I'm going to marry her." It's becoming questions about whether the rings should be silver or gold and what kind of stone we might pick. It's about moving in and how we'll afford it and where we'd live. It's about this love that's made plans. It's made plans.

I still can't really wrap my head around the fact that this man wants to be with me forever. Out of every girl he's ever liked, ever fucked, ever seen on the internet...He wants to be with me. He picked me out of millions of opportunities (over Gaga!).

Honey Dick and Knockers sittin' in a tree.
K-I-S-S-I-N-G
First comes love,
then comes marriage,
then comes the baby in the baby carriage, Fuck that shit.

Our babies will look like this:

AND THEY'LL BE MOTHERFUCKING ADORABLE

'Restless nights without rocks,
calming flow to falter.
She cries goodbye and cries hello,
joy and sorrow in every push.
Shadow covered in darkness,
forgiveness in her palm.
A bed is on the horizon,
and she climbs in with him.'

Seven Spalis of Twenty Eleven

I don't think I've ever been able to drink hot chocolate without eating the little marshmallows first. And then letting it sit because it's always too hot to start.






Anyways...I present a quite sad scenario that I was pondering today as I ate alone. A girl and a boy meet. They fall in love. But, by fate, he lives far away from her (in England, to be precise). And they jack up the phone bill calling each other, and they talk everyday for hours, longing for the other's touch. Sometimes, they cry anguished tears of loneliness, knowing that the only thing they have is each other (even thought there are people around them). Eventually, she leaves him for another man, but texts him occasionally and they chat. But never more. She still misses him. He still misses her. One day, he tells her this:
I still hear your voice when you sleep next to me. I still feel your touch in my dreams. Forgive me, my weakness, but I don't know why...Without you it's hard to survive.

'Cause every time we touch, I get this feeling; and every time we kiss, I swear I could fly. Can't you feel my heart beat fast? I want this to last, need you by my side.
Suddenly, it's the saddest song I've ever heard. I actually cried.

I think I've been needing a cry recently. Everything is just tearing me apart. It feels like an eternity since he's been here, but it's only been two days. It's weird because even though I'm no where near anything dealing with PMS I've been super emotional lately. Like today, I skyped my friend who recently had their room repainted. It looked exactly like his. I literally tripped out. All I could say was, "Where are you? Tell me where you are. Where the hell are you?!" I felt like I was choking with regret and anger. Or how about poetry? I read a poem titled "How to Watch Your Brother Die." I sobbed like a child at the reality that it could be me. Even his cousin makes me cry. I think about how I always tried to impress him, to leave him with a positive impression of me, and how now I might not see him again. He goes to my rival school and all...

Recently, I've just felt sad. I know I have all these amazing things to look forward to, but sometimes I just want to curl up into his arms and wish all my troubles away.

But, for now, I must sleep.

"Je faire dormir maintenant, je vais regarder tu ttu, mais non assez ttu, mon amor"

To my sweet:

'Shadow blends with darkness,
a smile spreads across her lips.
Jane couldn't stop her,
from taking down the
yellow wallpaper.
"I'm his lover. Thanks for coming."
Never did Paris stand,
but Aphrodite loves her apple.'