BY THE WAY

I saw a movie in 3-D glasses for the first time that wasn't at Disneyland or Universal Studios, but at an actual theater! It was Monsters vs. Aliens, which was a generally boring movie, but the 3-D made it super intense. I almost couldn't handle it at first, but then it seemed natural.
This has heightened my desire to see Half Blood Prince in 3-D, and, hopefully, I-MAX, when it comes out. As you can see, we've got about three months left to wait. Think you can? I KNOW I CAN'T!

Also, I'm listening to some old Bright Eyes right now, and I'm wondering how Conor Oberst used to get away with that shit. It's thanks to all the people like me, who, at ages 15-17, was definitely obsessed. And then I went to see him in Berkley after drinking some red spacebag, and he played a bunch of crappy songs from his soon-to-be-released album, I'm Wide Awake It's Morning. I mean, he played all the ones I skip now. It's not like anyone had ever heard any of those songs before, and we want at least a few songs we recognize. He did play June on the West Coast and Waste of Paint, which are great, but pretty random choices that I guess a lot of people there wouldn't have known. Obnoxious tangent. Anyways, now I can handle the overly manic depressive suicidal crap for nostalgic purposes, but if he was still making music like that, I doubt he would be taken seriously. He could go play at Warped Tour maybe.

BY THE WAY IF ANYONE NEEDS A COMMERICAL/AD WRITER, PLEASE HIRE ME INSTEAD OF THESE IDIOTS YOU'VE BEEN PICKING LATELY.
I can't stand the music, I really can't. And I think if I see another chemistry.com or Wal-Mart, or foreclosure or Glade candle commercial, I'm going to throw uppppp.
What happened to those Captain Morgan, or the Jack Link commercials. I even miss those Comcast ones, because the Brighthouse commercials SUCK.

Alright....

A Few Issues

1) I think movies are strange because they take parts of life and portray them in a way that would never actually happen. It's frustrating sometimes, but in a way, it's good, because I don't think people really watch movies to get some reality. I'm mostly interested in movies that are way different than what my life is like, or something takes place that would never happen in my life. Randomly, a movie like my life will come out, and it will be something terrible like Taxi Driver, or Raging Bull, or Ronin, or, really, any Roberto Di Nero movie, and it's always a very profound experience for me.
One movie that really frustrates me, although it's probably one of my favorite movies, is Life is Beautiful. Because, really, I find it hard to believe that this guy was able to sneak his child into the barracks of his concentration camp, who just chills with him throughout the entire movie. That is a detail that is hard to overlook at times. I don't know, maybe the Italian Jews had it a little more lax in than the other Jews of the world in their Italian concentration camps, you know how they are.
2) There sure are a lot of power outlets in my room. Sometimes I worry about electromagnetic waves. I don't like the idea that these waves can give me a feeling of paranoia and fear, and the sensation that I'm being watched. It's going to make me think the house is haunted.
3) I'm running out of things to wear, and it's frustrating me!!!!
4) I can't find my remote control anywhere, I have no clue where it could be. This makes life a lot more difficult and inconvenient for me, because I hate getting out of bed to change the channel or turn it off. I guess I'm a little spoiled when it comes to the latest technology, such as jacuzzis and bobble heads and remote controls!
5) wonder more want more than we did before the shit is running and it runs deep i'm way out when you mean it on the inside you still can't get to me fits around me so tight fits around me so tight fits around me SO TIGHT fits around me SO TIGHT fits around me fits around me fits around me fits around me fits around fits around me fits around me fits around me

Nostalgia

Sometimes days literally smell like California, especially mixed with the way the air feels on my face and the way the sun streams at certain angles. It makes me feel like I'm walking to McClellan Ranch Park, or sitting at the bottom benches at Linda Vista. It feels like drinking Oregon Chai and smoking a bowl at Coffee Society, or making a soda can pipe at Jollyman, or fishing at the reservoir. I could be driving down 17 headed for Santa Cruz with the windows down listening to college radio, or climbing the foothills behind Los Altos. Or I could be in Alex Day's backyard tripping on acid, or eating macaroni and cheese outside at Whole Foods. It feels like leaving the library at De Anza to get to class on time, riding my bike to work, or playing chess at Santana Row. If I close my eyes and try not to think too hard, I can see 7th st and the MLK library with its pouring sun and bowing trees, and quiet hum, never too overbearing, even if I am downtown.

Nostalgia is hitting me like a bag of hammers, and yes, it is painful.

It's TUESDAY

some things that have been going on with me

1) Tupac. Tupac is really gay.
2) 28 Weeks Later. Pretty gross movie. It was a little too disgusting, I could do without quite a few of the images imprinted on my mind.
3) Music. I'm really down with my guitar.
4) Home videos. As a kid, I think I looked a lot prettier. These home videos have been making nostalgic for a "normal" life.
5) Being blind. I feel like ever since I took that eye exam, I have way worse vision than I remember.
6) Church. Still haven't been going.
7) Sense of smell. I like how things smell like they have always smelled, especially when those smells are tied to memories that make me feel good.
8) Being broke. I guess not having money in a way has made life a lot more simple, but also a lot less fun. Either way, you do appreciate the smaller things in life. Like cashing in change, that's really exciting. But I spent my last eight dollars yesterday on soda and beer.
9) Smoking. This almost directly correlates with being broke, because I have quit smoking simply because I have no more money to buy packs of cigarettes. Also, most everyone I know smokes shitty menthols, so bumming cigarettes isn't all that desirable. I tend to give up because I got drunk, so you just really need a cigarette. Unfortunately, that cigarette is either a Camel No. 9 Menthe, or a Marlboro Menthol of some kind, and it kinda ruins it for me.
10) My mom. Today is my Mom's fiftieth birthday, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM. I couldn't get her a present because any money I've had I've spent on beer because I'm a freaking loser!

YEAAHHHH

EAT TOAST DUMMY THIS IS ANNA HOBBS FOR YOUR HEALTH

happy bdya mlk soon happy ianguatarion day soon obama happy saturday night party people happy burn anniversary seal haha omg that was such alow blow and not even true.

also, happy water drinking party happy text mwessaging streak happy ipod charging hour happy smooth as huevos eve.

this is another life saving message from ann ahobbs and you know yuou saw it coming.

toehr things to say:
1) this was a night of knights
2) don't blame harry piotter because you cant get it together
3) parts of me wondrss if i should have bene male
4) parts of me wonder when my raging hormones are going to chill.


respect to connect

Nudity

Well, last night, I had a pretty symbolic dream for the most part. It was "one of those". I was in bed with someone, who will remain unnamed, and was TOTALLY naked. He was naked, too, thank God, or that would've been embarrassing for me. I mean, there was nothing sexual about it or anything, so don't think I'm about to divulge in fantasy here. I guess nudity is really just a form of vunerability, especially for me. And it was kind of a scary dream. Anyways, he was just like, "Hai, it's so nice that you're naked with me, you're so beautiful!" And I was super scared but still somewhat down to be naked. And something about the dream was so sweet and cute, but at the same time, I was pretty unsure of the whole thing.
See, pretty symbolic, right?
Lol, why bother...
In other news, I'd really like to buy some weed right now, but one of the terms of my unemployment is that I don't make any money. Therefore, it's not really in the cards for me to have any personal habits. It's all for the best. But sometimes it's not even about the money. I mean, cigarettes are pretty much not doing it for me these days. I've been smoking, like, one a day, except for the one and a half yesterday. That's right. I couldn't even finish a full one. I have two left in this pack, and I don't think I'm going to buy another one. Because really, I can feel it just sucking the vitamin C RIGHT out of my bones. So wish me luck.
Anyways, I just got off the phone with Jesse and am going to start preparing myself for another adventure.
And I feel like I should say something about something, but then that's just me putting unnecessary actions on blast.
So until tonight...

AND BY THE WAY
I have no idea what I'm talking about in the last post, so thanks for your patience.

Diseased

I really hate all these new faggoty ass problems I've been having lately. It's along the lines of me turning into a pathetic pseudo insomnic, anorexic, OCD, schizophrenic sociopath.
Of course, I'm exaggerating, but I'm starting to feel like a character of Girl, Interrupted, especially with all of these crime shows I watch, because I find myself relating more to the serial killers than the people they've killed. I am just way too aware of the evil inside of me, and it's beginning to become much more real than it actually is.
I feel like Grissom. Where does my mind end and the minds of those who are truly "evil" begin? Because really, we are all the same. Just because I can control my evil impulses doesn't make them any less evil. It's just not there for all to see.
Now, don't misinterpret this to believe that I want to kill people. All I'm saying is that I'm starting to lose my mind. Although one can be mentally sound and still completely evil. I think a few Star Wars and Harry Potter references would come into play nicely here.

Oh, sanity. One of the many privileges we take for granted. Congratulations to those whose is still intact.

Life in the Ocean

I feel like it's been awhile since I actually posted a blog, but then I think I posted one yesterday, so I am disillusioned.
Either way, whatever I want to say cannot be said. Unbeknownst to me, everything I do has ulterior motives, most of which are selfish and unattractive.
Also, every time I try to make plans and set life goals, I have to stop because it's like, really, who am I kidding? I'm not going to do ANY of that. And it seems I'm not the only one who feels like they have a lack of direction in life, because I'm hearing it more and more. Maybe it's the early twenties. Maybe it's the early millennium. Regardless, passion is nonexistent in the hearts of myself and my peers. That's the problem, really, because how can we ever do anything when what we lack is the general desire to change things? Sure, I want things to change, but I'm not passionate enough about anything, and my life is too comfortable as it is.
We have to step outside our comfort zones and think outside of the box and etc. Easier said than done.
OH. AND BY THE WAY
If anyone thinks I know what I'm talking about when it comes to God and things of a holy nature, I don't. My mouth is one of the most evil orifices of all time and has no place speaking of such things. When I do, it is only in hopes that I will actually listen to myself and stop being so selfish, but it never really works out that way. And as much as I'd like to think I'm Christian, it's becoming more and more obvious that the only faith I prescribe to is the Church of Anna Hobbs.
Because, really, what else do I care about?

Protesting Gender Restrictions

I have not shaved my legs in a couple of weeks. I am not shaving my legs until January. It's part of my hibernation process because the holiday season has sent me into hiding. I wear pants all winter, and I don't have anyone who will see me out of my pants, so the necessity level has dwindled.
When I do finally shave my legs, it will be a lot of fun! I'm hooking up the web cam for the momentous occasion.

Also, I wonder who invented the "walking scene" that you see in TV dramas. You know what I'm talking about. Two to four people are walking down a hallway talking about a case/business proposal/office mystery and the camera is in front of them.
Either way, it's very effective.

My Hypotheses--The Science of Self-Awareness: Part I

Hypothesis 1) If I can access my conscious mind while I sleep, then I can control my dreams.
Dreams exist, and I'm going to prove it.
I discovered this in a paralytic state of reality a couple of nights ago. I reached it on accident, as I was dreaming normally, but then something happened where it got to the point that this was undeniably real, and that I was, indeed, conscious, although no longer in my usual third dimension. It is rather indescribable, but now I'm going to devote the rest of my life to the research and study of dreams. If anyone could volunteer to be a couple of test subjects, it would be greatly appreciated. I, myself, am planning on revisiting the comatose state I was in previously, if the circumstances are fitting and the timing is just right. There I discovered an alternate existence that is very real and can possibly be controlled if I play my cards right. It is going to be dangerous. If I appear dead, don't panic, I am only paralyzed. However, if I am dead, don't go blaming it on anything supernatural. For once, this is strictly science, and at times, there are casualties for the greater good of discovery. Know that I did not die in vain.
Hypothesis 2) If I am stuck puking in Hernando County, then God must have had good reason to bring me here. I've developed four possible solutions to why God brought a girl like me to a town like this, and they are:
a) to see how long it would take before I shoot myself in the face
b) to see how long it would take before someone else shoots me in the face
c) to see how long it would take before I get off my ass and actually try to do something with my life, which in turn challenges me and tests my faith.
d) to mess with me simply because he finds me rather annoying, and I ask for too many snakes.(you know, if a son asks a father for bread, would he in turn give him a snake? But sometimes, we ask our father for snakes, and of course, in turn, he gives us nothing.)
Now, knowing the nature and character of God, I am inclined to choose option C as the most likely explanation. Although, I would have chosen C anyway, because I'm horrible at multiple choice, and that's usually your best bet. However, you never really know. So on the off chance that God's plans can be summed up in these four bullet points, which they can't, there is a 75% likelihood that I am shit out of luck.
Hypothesis 3) I've come to the conclusion that people really don't give two shits about you, or me. Nobody cares. This hypothesis can easily be proven. Although, I should probably put it in the correct sentence structure:
IF people are so concerned with their own personal contributions to society, and their own problems, THEN they really don't give two shits about you, or me. So basically, don't bother.
Like I said, I can prove this easily.
"Hey, can I talk to you for a second? It's kind of important"
"No, not right now, I'm busy stacking these papers."
Any questions?
Hypothesis 4) If I do not become a writer, then I will be making a serious mistake. I HAVE to write for my profession. I just have to do it. If I do not write, I will will ruin my life. Now, I know YOU GUYS have no interest in anything I have to say, but that's because you know me and you have your biases, so it doesn't really matter to you. You can picture me typing away alone in my bedroom in complete darkness except for the glow of my computer screen, and it probably turns you off. Hey, I understand. But I think there are people out there who WILL give a shit about what I write, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to find them.
Because I've been sitting here for weeks now, and I've realized there is simply nothing else I would ever want to do ever, and nothing else I have ever wanted to do since the time I was five years old. When I am writing, it is the only time I feel completely at peace with myself (not counting spiritual experiences, obviously, although in a lot of ways, writing IS a spiritual experience for me). It makes me happier and is really the only worldly thing that can satisfy me at all. It is really all that I am. And I'm going to do it even if it kills me.
So haters, speak up now, so I can remember to NOT thank you when I'm on Oprah.

Commercials

You know, I've been watching a lot of TV, and I realized I actually enjoy many of the commercials. The reason I like them, though, is because they piss me off. But I guess it's in a good way. I can't help but wonder what the hell these people in advertising are, and why they can make commercials and I can't!
Seriously, my commercials would be a little better than theirs, I think.
Of course, there are some that I like just because I like them, they entertain me, for some reason.
There are commercials I can't stand, though, like Wal-Mart ones, or ones about cars.

Here are some of the commercials I like:
1)Brighthouse commercials
--the ones where they're showing all these happy families in their houses enjoying the cable services. I just think about how funny it is that there are people who have to act it out. I mean, they just walk around smiling. AWKWARD.
--asterisk hunting. WTF?
2) that reminds me, comcast commercials were pretty good, too.
3) I must be getting old, because there was this Kay Jeweler ad where some guy proposes to her, and I was just like, awww, that's SOOO cute, and I got all teary eyed. But yeah, I thought it was sweet!
4) Those Dyson vacuum commercials, with the scientist inventor guy with a British accent explain his state of the art, technologically-advanced vacuum cleaner. I don't have much an opinion of it, but I love the way they make it seem like it is the most posh piece of plastic ever.
5( the Nikon ones with Ashton Kutcher. Just because I love Ashton Kutcher. TO THIS DAY.
6) The tractor supply store, whose slogan is "The stuff you need out here."
Out WHERE, exactly? This is just Florida. I mean, I haven't seen very many tractors, but I guess I do live in the more populated area of the county. Either way, it showed a woman trying on cowboy boots with a real serious look on her face, and then her husband came up with a pair of cowboy boots for himself and smiled down at her, and he smiled, too. Pretty weird.

I'd write more, but I can't really think of any, and there's a special on the History channel of Nostradamus and why not, I'd rather watch that than write this.
Apparently, he predicted September 11th, the Kennedy assassinations, and the rise of Nazi Germany!
They also have Penn and Teller as one set of guests that they interview about the subject. What do THEY know about Nostradamus?
Hmm
I'll get back to you on this one later...

i'm on the verge of death

trying to stay
conscious

watching
court tv


can't

stay

awake

lets

have

a drink


chased down an ice cream truck
driver lady was a bitch
got a spongebob face with black gumball eyes
first thing i ate
feel a little better
blood sugar was low
drank all my ensure
no vitamins today.

passed out four o clock
woke up one o clock
and still
can't keep my eyes
open
can't
stay
awake


im on the verge of death.





see i CAN be a slam poet, i won the bet.

new bff

So I actually watched an episode of Paris Hilton's New BFF today, something I never intended or wanted to do.
And I had to write about how I think I know now that I am officially dead inside. Because I actually watched the whole thing...and I didn't even mind it.
But now I am watching Forensic Files, which is probably my favorite show on television
I love it.
"Scott Gilly was a jealous piece of shit," said the cop who arrested him.
Don't worry, he was sentenced to life in prison.

part three

It was my third night in this cave I had found.
I had a faulty compass. It was the only explaination. I had followed it east for exactly 1.7 miles from the exact point they had left. Something went wrong.
Maybe I shouldn't have trusted that woman. Maybe she was protecting them.
I was starving. It was September and each hour was colder than the last. It had to have been midnight by now.
The first couple of nights, I was having visions. It could have been hallucinations from lack of sleep, but even then I held on to my superstition. Regardless, something about these were different. In them, my wife came to me. My wife had died soon after I left for the Navy. Even in death, she had a reason for everything. She told me why I was here.
She told me that I would die here, that my own evil heart led to my demise, while contributing to the greater good of future societies, and so on and so forth. If it weren't for my weakness, the world would never be strong. Just like a woman.
So was I chosen at random to accomplish this task? If so, these kids were probably chosen at random, too. I guess anyone can change the world these days.
I asked my wife to forgive me. I haven't had another vision since.
I was angry. I could feel my body failing me.
I decided to actively choose not to die. Fate is something we make for ourselves. I know taking it into my own hands was how I had got myself here, but sometimes bad things happen. It doesn't mean it was destiny. Either way, I wasn't going to just sit in this cave and wait for death to find me. If I was going to die, I would die looking for those children, the children who brought me here in the first place. If they live beyond my years, the only family I've ever known--sea-faring, dangerously strong and intensely loyal men--would never see the day they would finally be recognized and placed in the positions of power they surely deserve.
So, yeah, I would die to defend the pirate life, but that sounds a little stupid. Althought it most certainly isn't! It's a noble cause! Seriously.
So I would set out to find them in the morning. The forest was only so big. We would have to run into each other eventually. And when I finally found them, I could put a stop to this nonsense. Even if I were to perish shortly thereafter, at least they couldn't rid the evil that deserves a place in our world.
They didn't understand what they were getting themselves into. Who were they to be saviors of the planet? Evil hardly gets enough credit. People spend their whole lives praising the light and worshipping the sun, but how would we live if there was no night? Without evil, there would be no good! And in the depths of all our hearts, even in the purest and most righteous of specimens, there will always be darkness. If they were to "save the earth", surely it would be the apocalypse. The world could not go on without anger and envy, fear and revenge. The skeleton of humanity is built with strong bones of good, but they are filled with the vital marrow of evil. How could mere children rid us of something that is so firmly tucked into our mortal fabric?
I'm not a bad person simply because I choose to indulge in reality. People don't want to admit it, but everything I speak is the truth. I am just not as weak as they are. Instead of wishing someone dead, I will take the intiative to kill them. Instead of wanting something, I will take it. But I am just like everyone else, because we all want the same, sinful things, and we all think the same, impure thoughts. So why am I considered so bad just because I act on the very things the ones who persecute me struggle with? People hate those that embody the things they hate most about themselves. The ones who pursue me the hardest are the ones who relate to me the most. I'm pretty sure that scares them to death. I wonder how many people look at my scarred and burned up face and see themselves, because I can see my own eyes in many pairs that have stared me down.
I once believed in fate, but now I was coming to realize that life isn't something that is black and white. Everything changes, and nothing is determined. If I wanted the world to be a certain way, I was going to have to make it that way. I can't rely on anything but my own will and my own strength.
Because I am strong. I don't need anything but the muscles beneath my flesh and the grit between my teeth.
Soon, the fear of my circumstances dwindled. I reminded myself that I have weathered far worse and have conquered far greater. In the morning, I would do what I set out to do.

The Real Hansel and Gretel...part two

"It's been THREE DAYS!" I screamed at her. "THREE DAYS!! And you keep telling me we're going to be okay? We're running out of food, we don't even HAVE water. Not to mention we have some crazy pirate trying to kill us, and could be anywhere in these woods!"
"Oh, so you're going to just give up?" Gretel cried. "You're not even going to try to find our way home?" She kicked a rock in my general direction, but we all know girls have bad aim. "Why are you yelling at me, anyway? It's that evil woman who left us out here by ourselves!"
"I wouldn't yell at you if you would shut up about getting out of here, because it's obviously never going to happen," I said defeatedly, slumping up against a tree. "We're not going ANYWHERE."
I shot a string of spit out of the side of my mouth. "Where is that stupid pirate anyway? Wasn't he supposed to have killed us, like, days ago?"
Gretel shrugged. "Maybe he's not GOING to kill us."
"Or maybe he figured we would die out here anyway, so what's the point in overexerting himself?"
She ran to sit down next to me.
"But what about the prophecy?"
"WHAT prophecy? I didn't see any stupid prophecy, YOU did. How do you know you aren't wrong?"
"What are the odds of two people kilometers and kilometers away from each other having the same prophecy?"
"It doesn't make it any less crazy. And how does that bring us here in the woods? Does that make any sense?"
"Maybe not," she said gently. "Listen, Hansel. We're smart, we can figure this out."
"Yeah, that bread crumb idea was REAL genius. We wasted valuable bread, and the birds ate them anyway."
"Come on, we have survival skills!"
"Gretel, we're in grade school."
"Yeah, but you graduate in two and a half months!"
"True."
"And what about all the trouble we get ourselves out of at school?" She stood up and began putting on her shoes. "Look, I'm sure someone has to live out here." She looked around frantically, and then pointed back over to the tree I was sitting up against.
"Moss points towards civilization, right?"
"No."
She sighed heavily. "Sure it does." She pulled me up by my wrist, practically tearing my arm out of its socket. "I think we should go this way."
"According to what, moss?"
"Okay, then which way do YOU think we should go?"
"Down. I want to rest. We only have a couple more hours of sunlight, anyway," I sat back down. "It gets so much darker out here with all these trees."
I couldn't help but feel terribly scared. I knew Gretel was scared, too, but she was so set in the idea that we wouldn't die out here, that we COULDN'T die out here. Not with the way that things were going to turn out, as told to her by God.
Poor Gretel.
"Okay, we'll rest here," she said. "I'll try to find food. But in the morning, we HAVE to look for a way out of here. We have to meet our mentor, and soon."
"Whatever." I turned my head up toward the sky. "I'll start a fire."

Letters to Anakin

Dear Anakin,
I know I said I was going to stop writing letters to you, but now that I started my blog up again, I feel like maybe we can start a new relationship. And it's not like I haven't been writing you the occasional letter since I was eight years old, but I think this is when we're going to get to the good stuff.
I was going over Return of the Jedi in my mind again, and I realized my favorite part is actually the part where you're practically killing your son. It's the final battle, I'm sure you remember, and it was really cool because you're electrifying him. Personally, Luke was a lot different in that movie, and so ready to die for what he believed in, which was awesome. But then again, so were you. Which was not awesome. You had so many opportunities to become good again, man, but I know how it is with the power and everything. It really is blinding. Speaking of blinding, back to my point. The coolest part is the lame lighting rods coursing through his body, because his teeth turn purple with electricity.
Really awesome.
And yeah, that's about it. That was my favorite part.
But it reminded me of the fact that you really didn't seem to have a lot of sympathy, let alone empathy, towards your son. I could tell that you thought he was weak for not following you in your path. Really, I hope you learned your lesson about weakness that day. Obviously, because you died. But what I'm saying is, it takes real courage to choose the road Luke chose, the road you had been on all along. I know all the shit I talked about him before, but I take back everything I've said about Luke, because really, he is one of the greatest most lion-hearted characters in existence because he gave up everything and risked all he had left to serve justice and righteousness. And I don't care what anyone says, I can see it in your eyes, and I know you know what is right in your heart of hearts. You took the easy way out, because it is so much easier to be evil. It takes strength to put your heart on the line and fight for what you know is right.
But that's all I have to say to you right now, because I'm still a little pissed.

The Real Hansel and Gretel...part one

When he came up to the table, I took note of his tattoos. He had a scribble of an anchor on his right shoulder, and on the back of his calf was a ship poorly constructed of wood chips and withered sails. The web between his thumb and index finger said MOM, and two doves held a ribbon over his belly button with a birth date and what I assumed to be a death date of a person he never spoke of. It was all done poorly in crude, blue ink, and I assumed he was a navy man or a pirate.
His eye patch and pegged leg revealed to me it was the latter.
But, really, it was both.
He started out in the Navy after the Great War (although it's hard to choose, because all of the wars were excellent, everybody did great), but then turned to a life of plundering and pillaging after a long stay in the Philippines. After meeting the right people, he found work on an old, rickety ship, which, as I'm sure you've guessed, turned out to be a pirate ship. He rubbed shoulders with the gnarliest of the grimiest, whom he met at the bars in port towns all around the world, and he soon fell sweetly in love with wearing face masks and carrying torches and lighting houses on fire unbeknownst to the farming families or college students inside of them. He liked the authority his gold teeth and missing limbs gave him, as it granted him the ability to enter homes without calling first, eat legs of mutton, and fill his knapsack full of silver rings, golden goblets, and other miscellaneous treasure. And he could do it all at the same time.
He also couldn't refuse his new and sudden luck with women. Apparently, everybody loves a pirate, especially one who was the strong, silent type, as this man was. He got girls of all types, but they really were all the same. It wasn't until one night at the docks of a port in the northwest Persian Gulf when a woman would change his life for the first time. She was a prophetess, and she told a story of two children who would bring truth and justice to the world and rid all evil from mankind. She told him that he had the opportunity to change the world if he would only deliver the children to this one person who would be their mentor and lead them on the path to greatness. She gave him the exact coordinates of their location and said, "The fate of the world is up to you."
Being an unwavering believer in the supernatural, he took her words very seriously. However, to him, her message meant something different. While the man was superstitious, he was also, and always, very evil. He decided to take fate into his own hands. To him, it could only mean one thing: find these children and kill them.
So that's how he ended up at my small town in the countryside of Holland. I had seen him at the marketplace and approached him with the original intention of seeing if he had any poison for murderous reasons, cause he looked like the kind of guy who would sell toxins to total strangers in the town square. But before I could give him details, he said that he was looking for someone and told me openly what he had come to Holland for. I have that kind of face where I just seem easy to talk to, I guess. Well, the news was the stuff dreams were made out of. It was very good luck that of all the shady looking men in the surrounding Naardan area, I found the one who wanted to kill the same people I did! Money had been tight lately, and I was not really all that interested in feeding children whom I didn't even give birth to. He offered me money, more money than I had seen in a while, to hand over my step-children to him. I didn't want to talk about it in public, because most of the town knew me, so I arranged to meet him at a bar. It was the saddest bar in town, where everyone is so busy wallowing into their pints that they are unaware of conversations that could incriminate a woman when her two adorable step-kids went missing.
Lucky for me, our supreme court banned hypnosis.
He sat down at my table in a remote corner of the dark side of the room, where he explained the full story of the prophecy. He went on to say that he was really moving up the corporate ladder in the pirate world and would soon be a renowned captain. And with the right connections, he knew he was capable of taking over the world.
"Apparently, she wasn't a very good prophetess," he said, finishing his long (a little too long) story.
"Well, maybe not," I thought. "I mean, what if she knew this would happen all along by telling you?"
"Hey, maybe she's an evil prophetess!" he mused. "But really, can I kill your kids or what?'
"I would be more than happy to get rid of the children," I explained, "but I WOULD need to be compensated for my husband's sake."
"I assure you, lady, I am a very prominent and successful pirate," he said. "But I can only pay you in treasure. I don't really deal with too many transactions that involve...actual currency or anything."
"Okay, good. The other thing is that we have to make it look good. I don't want to be hanged because I did a guy a favor."
"Hmm, you're right." He pulled on his beard, which was braided, making me wonder if he actually took the time to do that himself. "Well, how old are they?"
"They're both eleven."
"Twins?'
"Ten months apart. Turns out that can be harmful to your health, which is why their mother is no longer with us."
"Alright, well, why don't we stage a kidnapping?"
"Not a bad idea," I nodded. "I don't really want to have to recreate the scene when I talk to the police, though. They always catch you in minute details, and I know I'd crack under the pressure."
"Oh, totally, I know what you mean," he said, taking his wallet out of its holster (he had a wallet holster next to his dagger holster). He put it down in front of him and said, using bunny quotes, "Why don't you 'lose them in the woods'? If you catch my drift."
"Go on..."
"Okay, see, you'll take them out to pick some fruit with you or something. Take them very deep into the woods, and just leave them there. I'll take care of the rest of the details."
"That I can do. I'm a great actress."
"I'll bet."
We worked out the details in a short matter of time. I would leave them exactly 1.7 miles directly east into the woods from the log pile in my front yard. It was to take place tomorrow at noon. Being the gentleman that I couldn't have guessed that he was, he took a couple of rubies out of his (very deep) wallet to pay for the buffalo wings.
So the next day, I woke up and took the kids out to chop wood. I gave them each a loaf of bread and told them to make it last all day, just to be nice about it and all. They looked at me silently, and put the bread in their pockets. It was harder than I thought, because they looked pretty cute, and kind of sad. But it was too late at that point, and the money was already mine, so I went through with it.
I started a fire for them at the designated area and took out my pocket watch. It was 11:55.
"Well, I'll be right back," I said with a stretch, trying to casually make my exit. "Gonna go pick some berries or something..." They glared at me silently.
"What's your problem?" I asked. "What are you staring at?"
"We know what you're doing," the boy stated simply. I felt heat spreading across my cheeks as my face flushed instantly.
"Uh...what are you talking about?" I asked, cautious of seeming guilty.
"Where's your basket?" he inquired sharply.
"Wh..what?'
"Your basket?"
I stared at him blankly.
"You know, for picking berries?"
Damn. I had forgotten a basket.
"Uhhh..umm...I was going to use my apron...?"
"Right," he said. "Look, my friend James was hiding in the bathrooms in that bar last night. He told me about the pirate coming to kill us."
"Your friend James is lying!" I shouted. "Wait, your friend James is twelve."
"So??
"So what was he doing in the bar?"
"He sneaks in every once in a while. He was in the bathroom because he had one two many Long Island iced teas, and apparently, you were there, too, and not in the best of company."
Busted. I tried explaining, but they just stared at me blankly.
"Does Dad know?" he asked finally.
"No," His expression lifted. "But I don't understand," I went on. "Why did you come out here with me if you knew what I was going to do?"
"We know about the prophecy, too," Gretel said. "Fate cannot be changed, so if this is ours, we have no say in the matter."
"Not to mention, we left a trail of breadcrumbs," Hansel added.
"But you're not fulfilling the prophecy by coming here!" I said angrily. "The prophetess was wrong! She couldn't foresee your death."
"You really think that fat old pirate is going to kill us?" she laughed. "Fate cannot be changed."
"Whatever. I have more faith in a pirate with a sword than a stupid dream. You're unwise if you don't think the same."
"I'm not afraid," Gretel said boldly. "God will protect us." Hansel sighed and rubbed his sinuses.
I couldn't help but laugh myself. "YEAH! Right! If you somehow escape the pirate, tell that one to the wolves. SEE ya!"
Part of me was relieved, and a part of me wasn't. But it was too late to think about any of that now.
I somehow found my way home before nightfall, and explained to my husband that I had been out looking for the children, etc. etc, that they were lost and we had to send people to search for them right away.
The neighborhood helped us look with their torches, which they had on reserve just for a mob-appropriate occasion such as this, but no one found the children, and there was no sign of any pirate-type presence. I wouldn't really expect him to leave one. I did, however, expect him to leave their bodies, but maybe he was a trophy kind of guy.
All I know is I didn't sleep that night. I guess a part of me was a little hopeful that they were still alive. Another part of me was feeling guilty because I knew that they weren't. But like I said, it was too late for any of that now. And if Gretel was right, and everything does happen for a reason, I was pretty much off the hook.
But I haven't been hungry since.

i update this too much

and if The Strokes comes on my itunes shuffle again, I'm going to go back in time to when I was coming out of the womb and tell myself, "GET YOUR ASS BACK INSIDE." BIG mistake. I can't even listen to that album anymore. They have been ruined almost as quickly as they had been glorified.

evil

a solid property of which I think is only tangible to me.
It's weird that I can look around and see its physical presence.
We are animals. We are innately evil. It is what we know. MR. GOLDING you have proven my fifteen year old self wrong, and I'm sorry for doubting you. Now to ask the rotting pig head what he thinks...
In other news, I think I'm ready to face the outside world again. I have had a lot of time to think, but I've been depriving myself of my basic needs. I am pale, I am never hungry, and I am always tired. But the good thing is that it has brought me to desperation. I rely on the discomfort, weakness, and pain to remind myself that I am still here, and I can't give up. I can see things for what they really are now, because I'm no longer blinded by unnecessary emotion, and all I am left with is my body and my soul. Everything is physical, everything is spiritual. I had been thrown into quite a torture pit for a few days and experienced some very brutal hopelessness unlike anything I have felt in a very long time. And it was all too necessary. It has helped me see that everything is going to be okay. Things can't be the way that I want, because they just can't, and the world could implode if they were, and I've learned to accept that. I've accepted what I don't understand because it is, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. I can't change anything. I can only try to change myself.
In the end, this may mean nothing. But I'm not just going to give up. I'm making an effort this time to have a different perspective. I'm not gonna be a little bitch anymore. If life is gonna give it to me, I want it. I think I can handle it now.