dudes, hey

Some things I've learned about money...
1) "The best things in life are free" usually just means that someone better than you is paying.
2) Contrary to popular belief, it is NOT money that makes the world go round, but pussy, for sure.
3) No offense, God, but even Neopets has a money tree. Just saying.
4) Black rich people are entirely more tolerable than white rich people because they aren't sterile HOARDERS with bastard heirs to multimillion dollar fortunes.
5) Shoes are fucking expensive.

Anyway, I'm drunk, and I don't understand why anyone would end a movie like The Secret World of Arietty. For. Real. Oh, SO glad to know that everything turned out okay....EXCEPT WE DON'T KNOW SHIT!

weighing of souls

Soul mates

I often disregarded the idea of soul mates because how could we ever rest assured that we are ever going to meet them? How could we ever know where they are, who they are, or if we've already met them? Lately, though, I've realized that you don't always get to meet your soul mate. You can go your whole life without meeting your one true love. They're out there, but you'll never know. They might even be a fictional character.
In my case, I HAVE found my soul mate. I realize now that this is the only person who is meant for me, created by God as a MATE for my own SOUL. It's the one person in the whole world who could ever truly love and understand me, and the one person I could ever truly love and be loyal to.
Unfortunately, he is just an alter ego, and I will never get to be with him. But I'm thankful to know that there IS someone absolutely amazing out there for me, even if he will never be mine.



Thanks Charlie, for giving me hope that I will one day find someone kind of like you, but not my soul mate.

and can i just say

that it was a huge mistake downloading every episode of are you afraid of the dark ever??

because i mean, really. some of these are just terrible.

I've been meaning to write a blog for sometime, but everything that starts to come out is negative.
I'm getting annoyed at how liberal I'm becoming. I lost the idea for a while of running off and being a hermit, but now I'm kind of going back to that. I think that's the best option for my future generations. And I'm falling behind in a lot of things. I had a week of drama and being sick, and it threw me off completely.
And this will sound weird maybe, but I think we're supposed to get fevers, because every time I come out of one, I feel as though I have a different mentality than I did when I went in it. Like it gives some kind of clarity. I feel like this one brought me back to reality.
Shit's fucked, and I'm a huge bitch. What an epiphany.

worst blog ever

So not only does there have to be a congregation of college-aged Aryan men all hanging out in one place, but they all have to be wearing tight, white pants. DAMN YOU OHLONE BASEBALL TEAM!!!

Jesus Was a Badass

by Anna Hobbs

key points:

1) hella funny comebacks to the Pharisees
2) he didn't come to bring peace but a sword
3) turned into The Hulk at the temple
4) stirred things up
5) hung out with prostitutes
6) showed people who's boss
7) was so unfazed by everybody's nonsense
8) screwed around on the Sabbath
9) stayed in the desert for days and didn't even eat
10) rolled AT LEAST seven deep wherever he went


Understanding the New Testament Essay Topic? CHECK AND MATE!!

the matrix

I think that he would rather suffer anything than entertain these false notions and live in this miserable manner.

sometimes i have to fall to my knees. nothing will happen that isn't supposed to happen, so i won't continue to be so doubtful. there have been worse things, even in my life. when i think of the worst that could happen at this point or in the future, it's better than about a hundred points of my past.
faith is the simplest thing, but sometimes it is just so incomprehensible that i can't help but wonder how it can be expected of us at all. i don't know how i'm supposed to understand it fully, or trust it fully. i have so many physical senses that, despite what i know, everything is muddled. sometimes it's so good that it's painful, and i'm really happy that they exist. sometimes, i feel that if i didn't have faith, maybe things would be more simple, and decisions wouldn't always carry this weight of spirit, or depth of soul. sometimes i just don't want to know anymore.
but in the end, i'm always just thankful. i'm silly for worrying and almost unabashed in my naivety, and still, there is nothing but another chance for a good life and an infinite amount of backup plans.


props to the one who has literally thought about EVERYthing.

limbless

So I truly believe that the most correct things in life are the most painful. Like cutting off the arm that keeps stabbing people in the back. It hurts but you know it's THE RIGHT THING TO DO.
At this rate, I will be limbless, and the body count will still be unforgivable. I'm so apologetic, and yet I never change.
Oh, the humanity.

The box o' stuff

So the stereotypical box of stuff was hardly as dramatic as you would expect. It felt normal, appropriate, and not cliche in the least. I needed my stuff, so you know, I had to come get it. And it just made sense for him to put it in a box, so I could carry it all out the the car in one trip. There was nothing wrong with this box.
It was more the idea of him cleaning his room and gathering everything of mine that didn't belong there anymore. Everything of me that he had could fit into that box, and he had to put it all there himself, maybe thinking about how he wouldn't ever seen these things again, and I wouldn't have toothbrush behind the bathroom mirror anymore, or leave makeup powder in the sink or any underwear on the floor. I feel the pain of the symbolism now, even if it didn't hit me until I was driving home.

the rain on my car is a baptism.

I'm going to have to reactivate my Facebook again pretty soon because I realized that without it, I simply have no interactions with my peers outside of business settings. I can't wait for school to start, even though last year was harder than I thought to meet people, although I have found Monica, whom I adore. More so she found me. In that case, I vow to be more outgoing and join more clubs and etc. I'm always the hand raiser and have an insight into every topic in class, but I don't think it necessarily speaks much about who I am as a non-intellectual, i.e. a loud, comical shit-talker, as lovable and compassionate as I am brazen and opinionated. No one gets to know me as I really am. The people who do either love me to death, or they either despise me in my entirety--I can only assume I must represent things they don't like. Sure, I talk openly about how much some of the things you like suck, and I get really loud when I'm having a conversation that I like, or sometimes I just have to comment on absolutely everything that I find relatively absurd. But at the same time, I feel like this is what makes me who I am--unabashed with a complete lack of grace, yet at the same time, totally forthcoming and admitting of my downfalls, happy to be here, honest, and brimming with love to a fault.
This may seem narcissistic, but it's almost a plea for understanding. I feel disliked by people, and I really feel it's only because they don't know anyone else like me. I'm almost retarded because I'm not a part of the modern idea of how people are supposed to be. Fuck it. Fuck it alllll. The people who appreciate this mentality are my friends. The people who don't can suck it because they'll never like me.
And that's how it is.

God's work is you.

You say that you would do twice, ten times, a hundred times, more than you did. But if you did ten thousand times ten thousand more than all men have done, what would that have been in the work of God? A mere nothing! God's work, like Himself, is infinite. God's work is you. Come to him, and be not a laborer but a son, and you will become a partner of the infinite God and of his world. In God's sight there is neither small nor great, there is only what is straight and what is crooked. Enter into the straight path of life and you will be with God and your work will be neither small nor great, it will be God's work. Remember that in heaven there is more joy over one sinner than over a hundred just persons. The world's work--all that you have neglected to do--has only shown you your sin, and you have repented. And when you repented you found the straight path. Go forward and follow it, and do not think of the past nor of what is great or small. All men are equal in God's sight! There is one God and one life!

--Old man, Walk in the Light While There is Light by Leo Tolstoy

ALL I HAVE TO SAY

is that, yeah, you may hate defense attorneys, but really, they are just defending the American way and ensuring our Thomas Jefferson, etc.--given rights to a fair trial. It's a beautiful right, an amazing and specifically American right that we are so privileged to have. APPRECIATE IT! Everyone gets a fair trial, bitches. EVERYBODY. Defense attorneys are just doing what needs to and should be done. So maybe they defend horrible people. But really, they're doing it for the greater good of democracy. I would fight to the death for their right to be defense attorneys.
Okay, I mean, I would never ever BE a defense attorney and get serial killers out of a life sentence, but these people are atheists, so no moral discrepancies apply. HAHAHAyeah yeah just kidding

The only thing I try to understand are the things that aren't happening.
I think about them constantly, and I know it's what ruins me. The last thing I ever wanted was to become something I'm not. The last thing I wanted was to force myself to pray, to force myself to think a little deeper.
But now I just do what is present and constant and always here, I do only what preoccupies my mind and my thoughts. I think only of things that no longer exist. It's in my mind whenever I close my eyes. My thoughts drift to things I wish never happened, to things I know were my fault.
The things that happened to me were always my fault, and I can't forgive myself.
I don't care if my parents have forgiven me, if my friends are over it, or even if Jesus died for these things.
I will never feel okay with the way I have lived.
I will never feel justified for the things I have seen or the choices I've made or the words that I said and the people I said them to.
Or the way that I looked at everyone.
The way I begged for them
and the way my body tightened around them for them and how I would have done anything just to feel like I was a part of them, to feel like they understood, to feel like I knew something others did not.
I feel like these thoughts will be constant and that nothing will stop them
that I will never sleep soundly
that I will never have a moment where I am not reminded
something doesn't come to mind.
Whether it's woods on a rainy day in Massachusetts, and the woods were mossy and green, and the sky was hanging with steam, and the branches were heavy with strings, and the only thing I could see is how it would be almost impossible to escape this place
how good the air felt heavy in my lungs and how I could taste it, and the rain was like mist that soaked my hair and my cheeks, and is this really how my life was going to be?
Or the time there were fists and feet clutching ribs, and I fell to the ground, and I screamed out some words that didn't make any sense, and I grabbed for hair and for flesh and for hips, and I felt the asphalt kiss my skull and dig into my spine and my back carried scars for a long enough time.
Or the way that no face saw the depths of my eyes, and no voice was the way I fell asleep every night, and no hair was soft to the palm of my hand, and how I made no mistakes because I see it for what it is
and the way that my callouses formed beneath skin.
Now I melt underneath something soft, and it's so hard to move at all, and sometimes I don't even wish that I could.
I know don't what I'm doing cause I haven't done it before
and I know that when it ends, I won't be able to understand how everything can still be the same for everyone else, and how I could have ever allowed myself to be the way that I am now.
I think the truth of it all, even though I don't know what it is or have I ever known what it is, is I can feel it deep and strong unlike anything else. Even if I'm at an age where I think maybe I've had to have learned something. But I'm exactly where I was and not at all who I thought I would be. I really thought maybe one day I'd make to school and have a good job and this money and be on some beach or in some sunny city.
And yet here I am in this hurricane land, and the cold only comes to make me feel warmer than I had before.

to write freely part one

I should be sleeping but I turned around instead. I thought I could make it on foot. My thighs start to ache with restlessness. I want to run and feel my soles slap against pavement and tar until the arches of my feet are ripped and ridged.
I think it's about time you came driving back now. I saw you stocked up on gas tanks and water bottles, so when are you leaving, just tell me, I only want to know, and I'm not going to try to stop you. If you go, I will watch you leave. I will pack a cooler and make a sandwich and knit a sweater. I am there with you when your exhaust pipe puffs its last gasp of Floridian air. But I hope you have to guts to follow through. It's an open road out there, and it stretches for miles and weeks at that, and time is something that disappears when your money runs out.
So I pressed my ear to the ground to hear the tires squeak against the gravel. I love the sound of leaving, when life is beginning again. I'm happy when the light is fading and when my skin looks pale because the stars are few under these orange streetlamps and smog.
This is what life is going to be like now. It's going to keep going, and it's not going to stop. With every year that goes by, I wonder how I made it this far. I don't think it's going to be this way forever but it's hard to believe that something is going to change when it never does. Now I know this drum will beat my heart to death.
The sky faded into an opaque eggshell white, and I watched the sun dip beneath the ground. I wondered how hot it gets under there. I saw the road stretch into sand and roll on its back, and the spine of the freeway was buzzing, letting go of everything it once held on to, because what does the road have to worry about, what should the road have to love? It can just keep going. I
And I wish I could keep going. I feel like this is a pitstop a resting place a hospice a vacation home I want to get out of here but no one cares. I want to live life continuously and fearlessly. And I want to believe that my life is all there is and that there is nothing to live for after I die. But I know the truth, and that's why I feel that I must change. I don't want to, though, that's the truth.
If I have to be completely honest here it's to say that nothing is ever going to be the same for me. I don't want to know anyone just like they don't want to know me. I don't care to know what you are really going to be like because i know it's something I won't like, possibly something horrible.
But maybe if I was getting hurt, my life would be more interesting. Maybe if you hit me, it would make me feel alive. I guess it's sick to say, but I like it when my heart is hurting in someone else's hands. At least then I can show someone and tell them I am not in control of this. Bad things are going to happen to me, and that's the way it's going to be forever. I think it should be a profession to feel sorry for oneself because I think we all do it so convincingly.
But then I think, what do we really have to be afraid of? What in life has been as good as this? I know I have had it worse, and although at times you are just like the others with the way you look at me, I can see what you really want and who you really are. Yes, I know my mouth is big, I talk so much, I talk too damn much, and I should keep my mouth shut if I ever know what's good for me, and I need to sit on my hands to stop twitching my feet and moving my wrists and cracking my knuckles because everyone is going to see, sooner or later, that I'm not as like them as they think. I don't know how I blend in with the rest of society when I know exactly what I stand for and that the way I act is the exact opposite.
It's getting kind of late. This is how I am, but that doesn't mean I can live with it. I wonder when the self absorption will stop and if we'll ever stop feeling sorry for ourselves, and if I will always have to apologize for wasting everybody's time.

It's been a rough week

some "highlights" of the past seven days spawning my current existentialism has me wondering...







...does our immortality end with our physical life?



Certainly not.
RIP

on the brain lately

left or right?

of course, i pick my usual direction. what about you?

Life has a strange way of being incredibly surreal in the midst of very lucid reality. Sometimes, it's almost hard to believe that I'm even alive. Things are happening in a very compelling chain of events, and it doesn't even feel like my life anymore. This is good, because I never really liked it anyway, but it's still kind of odd. I feel like I'm simply following a road. So far, it's a pretty easy walk, and the scenery is great!


More later some other time...........