Day 26 - What idea would you incept?: I just want Christopher Nolan to hire me. *shrug* I think he could direct some of my ideas/stories into wickedly beautiful movies.
Day 27 - If you made a candy bar based off Inception, what would it be?: This candy bar would be odd. It would be utterly delicious with a base of chocolate, but the undertones in it would be questionable and odd. You couldn't explain it, but it would taste delicious. It could possibly be called "Totem Tots" (if they were bite-sized pieces). And maybe there could be a whole line of them with slight variations on the theme of taste. Each variation could be named after someone's job from the team. The Mark would be the most basic one, and the Shade would be the most rare one. For something really connoisseur-like, you'd chose the Architect; for something really POW, you'd chose the Point Man; for the Forger, it'd have a delicate, creamy taste. But really, they'd all taste the same, just slightly different. LOL. That one was long.
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Alright. I guess I should sum up my feelings and how my life is before I go back to college. I will talk about my health, my emotions, my academics, my writing, my current home dynamic, and why my dad could possibly be angry with me.
First of all, I'd like to say that I think I don't say certain things aloud or discuss them with anyone because words give it some degree of permanence for me. Like voicing truths that we don't really want to acknowledge.
Second of all, I'd like to say that I know I'm full of anger. I'm sorry. There're unresolved issues in my life, and they make me angry. But I can't do anything about them (not actively, anyway), but I have to vent it somewhere. That place. Is here.
Health: I went to a dermatologist a week or so ago (my mother was concerned about my acne…), and she looked at the hairs on my chin rather pensively. She asked me if I'd seen any doctors about that hair growth, how fast it grew, when it grew, etc. When I told her the circumstances in which the hair grew & that I'd seen my regular doctor and an endocrinologist about it, she was appalled that I'd never seen a gynecologist. The dermatologist asked me if I'd ever had scans of my ovaries done. I told her yes, that I had a cyst on one of them. When she heard this, she immediately said it was imperative that I see a gynecologist because she was afraid that I had a reproductive disease. I only smiled and said, "yes, I figured."
In my second semester of my senior year of high school, around March, I got really sick. I gained about 30 pounds of weight (while running 5 miles a week), and my period became more unbearable than it already was. I got CT scans of my reproductive system, and they found something. Both my mother and my father were like "ah, it's okay, family history says you'll have those types of tumors." This is true. So, at the start of my freshman year of college, I knew I had tumors in my uterus and cysts on one of my ovaries. As the year went on, I noticed more and more things wrong with me. So, this summer, I voiced my concerns with my mother, telling her I thought I had a reproductive disease that doctors could not see with a CT scan. She passed it off as nothing and told me to just "lose weight."
After the dermatologist appointment (my dad was the only person with me), I told my mother what had happened, and my mom was like "oh, really? I didn't know you were having these problems." I looked at her with a disgusted face and said, "I did tell you several months ago. You told me to lose weight." She laughed it off. I told her, "It's not funny. I'm leaving." She called me back, wondering what was wrong because I'm usually much more "bouncy" than I was acting. And so I told her, you know, I'm not really a bouncy person.
I know I'm sick. I'm on my period right now, drugged up and sleeping the day away because I can't bear the pain. Not even extra strength prescription medications are working for me right now. I'm not going to go into details, but I'm tired of this. I'm just so tired of my body revolting against me.
Whenever I tell my parents that something is physically wrong with me, they never believe me unless they get doctor confirmation. They still don't believe I've got chronic depression- hello, why did the doctors want to put me on DEPRESSION MEDICATION? They don't believe half of my allergies. My head constantly hurts, and now my reproductive system is in danger. But they won't listen.
Do you know how frustrating and heartbreaking it is when there is something wrong with you and yet no one wants to acknowledge it? Do you realize that I might not be able to have children if the problem persists? Do you realize that I sleep so much because I'm depressed? Do you realize that if I eat something even remotely foreign, I act like I'm on speed because I'm chasing away headaches?
I don't even know how to talk to you people anymore.
Emotions: Sometimes, even though I know it's bad, I provoke sad emotions out of myself. I find myself feeling blah all of the time, so feeling something, even if it's negative, is just great. Even when I'm crying, I can't feel a pang in my chest that lets me know I care. I don't understand what that means. I seriously don't know how I'm feeling emotionally until I'm in my chair laughing my ass off or in my bed curled up crying like a baby.
I don't think that's a good thing. =/ I think I might be forgetting what it means to be truly happy.
Academia: I've got a plan to recover from practically failing physics. It's not a completely brilliant strategy, but it'll work in the long-run.
I don't know how to tell my parents about the D in physics. I really don't. I hid my transcripts up in my room today after they came in the mail. I know I should tell them, and the time to tell them is drawing closer. I'm even avoiding talking about school. It's my fault that I got the D- my fault for not studying more, my fault for relying on my semi-photographic memory skills.
I'm excited to go back to school, actually. I don't know how to tell my parents that I prefer being by myself at school rather than stay at home with them. And it's even harder to explain to them why it's better- that, you know, they're so overbearing that I can't stomach them. Their crazy lives bring me down. College makes me detach and focus on what matters to me. Not… Their issues that I can't fix.
Writing: FUCK ALL OTHERS. I will make my dreams come true. I don't need their permission to let me know what I do is right or acceptable. I feel like sometimes I was chosen to do certain things, and fuck it, I will do what I want. I will become who I want, and I won't let anyone else dictate to me what I am capable of. I can do more than one thing. I can spin a beautiful story, and I can build a beautiful structure. I don't need your approval. I don't need your shit about it, and I don't care what anyone else thinks about it. I don't need a degree to write. And not every story needs goddamn revisions and rewrites. Most of what I write is true, just twisted so that people will accept it.
Dynamics of Home: My older cousin left, and my younger cousin is here in her place. The house is going to be struggling after I leave for FAMU again. My younger cousin is dealing with homesickness, independence issues, and other problems. I don't understand how they're going to train a little girl with so many awkward, strange problems to function in our house. Everyone is so independent, and my cousin gets bored like nobody's business. That is all I have to say about that.
Father Anger: This evening marked the first day of Ramadhan for those in our region. Ramadhan is a month of fasting and inward reflection and family (it is for me, anyway). I will not be participating in the fasting, just because a.) I'm on my period and b.) I'll be away from home. Religion is a quiet, ever-present undertone in our house, and I think my father is angry that I'm not participating. I haven't exactly voiced that I won't be fasting, but I know he knows. I can tell he's angry that my sister hasn't the vaguest idea what religion is, I can tell he's angry about the types of clothes we wear, and I can tell he's angry about our general family-religion structure. I'm not going to go into details, but I know that things aren't as I'd like them to be in that department. My relationship with religion & God is closely tied to my father (in a sense), and I don't know how I feel about that connection.
It's unexplainable. I think I'll leave it there. I have never said anything mentioned in the previous paragraph before.
My life is so complicated. I love complicated stories and complicatedness in other people's lives, but for me, it's horrid. It's like it fucks with my mind. I don't know.
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