Intuitively Cerebral Panache

again

2012-01-11T14:53:00.001-05:00

And again we revisit this subject.

I feel that relationships and social intricacies of relationships cause one’s insecurities to rear their ugly heads.

I don’t consider myself insecure. I enjoy myself, and I enjoy my own company. I like my features, and I’ve learned to love my body. I like my sense of humor, and I like the things I like. I say what I want, I do what I want. I like my aesthetic, and I enjoy being me. I love being me. I wouldn’t want to be anyone else.

But for the life of me, if I’m so confident in my own skin, why am I so insecure about letting someone into that world? It’s true, my world is a little different. I view it differently because of where I come from, who my parents are, my experiences, and so on. Everyone views the world a bit differently than others- no view is the same. But even so, my view can still be vastly different from others. My world is different, and I’m really afraid of showing someone that world. What if I show it to the wrong person? What if they shatter it from the inside, and I’ve got nothing left? What if they hate it, and I trap them in with me?

It’s not fair. Most people have bubbles for worlds. Their bubbles come together to create a stronger, bigger bubble. But mine is like a snowglobe. Seemingly a bubble, but I just cannot let you in. I have to keep you at arm’s length. I’ve got to be on a shelf as a knickknack that you refer to. You like it, or maybe you don’t, but you never interact with it.

I just cannot let you in. It’s like a panic button gets pressed when I see your face. And I start running around in my snowglobe, trying to break down the barrier. But fuck, I can’t. Why would I break my own world? It hurts me. It scares me. It feels like I’m drowning. I can’t swim. What is this? Why is it just you? Why the hell do you get to be the one? Fuck your light and all its shimmer.

Why can’t I let people into my world? What is it about my world that I deem so awesomely horrible that I cannot share it with anyone else? Do I truly hate myself?

I’m going to have to let it go. It hurts me. It pains me. Your light is aligned with my eyes, and I feel like it could possibly be just what I want. No, I know it’s what I want. You’re normal, with a bit of deviant shimmer that seems like fireworks to my retinas and I want it. I want to bathe in it.

But for some reason, some stupid reason. I can’t. Fear. Fear of what others think, and I am so fucking annoyed with myself for it. I hate it. It makes me want to cocoon, to go inside myself and fix it all. And forget you. Just forget your name, your smile, your eyes, everything I adore about you.

I want to forget. I want to forget so I can heal myself. So I can be ready for someone else.

Someone else? How can there possibly be someone else when I’ve waited this long just to have your light flashed in front of my eyes? And that’s the kicker! Which weighs more heavily in my mind- the fear of letting you into my world or the fear of never knowing your touch?

Fuck. I’m scared. This is unknown. I can’t sleep, dear love. I can’t eat or breathe or speak. My mouth is withering from disuse, and it’s all your fault. No, no love, I take it back. It’s not your fault. It’s mine. All the faults are mine, and they always have been.

If there were no one else in the room, just you and me. I could. I could talk to you. I could sing for you, and baby, I could fly. Dear love, why am I so afraid of other people and what they might think? I’m not afraid of you. I don’t think I ever could be. But I’m so afraid of others. I’m afraid of your friends. Your colleagues. Your family. Your peers. Your classmates. I’m afraid. If I let you in, I’d have to let them peek in. But no, love, I just can’t. People and I don’t mix on that level.

Fear is stupid. Fear is dumb. I want what I want and yet I don’t want you enough to conquer my fears. I want you, I do. In every possible way. But until I’m strong enough, less afraid… I don’t think I deserve you.

just a feeling

2012-01-10T01:21:00.000-05:00

I don’t understand this feeling. Maybe I’m not supposed to. Maybe I’m just too naïve.

The first time I wanted to be near someone this much- he died. For some reason, I still blame myself. The second time I wanted to be near someone this much- he left me with an illness in my body that took me years to get over. Even now I’ve still got scars.

This is the third time. They say the third time’s the charm, but I’m not so sure. I’m not sure because I don’t know what to do. I am driven- compelled, even- to action, but for the love of all that is holy, I just cannot. It’s the part I play. All the time. I don’t speak. I don’t smile. I don’t even glance. I’m sending you mixed messages because I’m scared.

Thoughts of you send lighting and fire down my nerves, you settle in my stomach like a storm over the sea. And I really don’t understand what that means. I’ve had baby crushes, it’s true. I’ve never wanted to obtain the person, to convey to them what I felt. Because I truly didn’t want them- I just loved how they were in some particular moment. And then it was gone- the rush of blood to the skull was gone. But you? You’re sending me to a place I’m uncomfortable with, that makes me sick and ill and screwed over. No one knows that. That I can’t breathe before I see you. That I shake. That I shiver. That my mind can’t seem to stomp you out of itself. You’re all I’m seeing- even when I close my eyes you’re in my periphery.

And yet when we talked, it was like a hot shower after a long day or a cool swim in a shallow pool. Refreshing and needed and so good. All those doubts fell away. All those anxieties and little worries- gone. Poof. What does that mean? Time moved so fast and yet so slow.

I can tell that you glow. I can tell that you shine. Your wavelength is resonating so I can hear it, and I hope I’m playing the right song back to you. I’ve always been able to take one look at a person and know. Well, I know.

I’m crying because I’m silly. I don’t know how to say this. And no one ever really wants to know what’s beneath the beating of one’s heart. You don’t want to know. And I’m sad about that. Or maybe you do. But I’m still sad about it. Because my fears have always held me back. I can’t unchain myself because it’s easy. It’s easy to sit here shackled, not exploring. I’m a caged bird- I sing, I appear happy. But I do wonder what’s beyond my bars.

I’m crying because I’m screaming it to you. I’m screaming it, and I want this. I really do. But I guess I don’t want it enough, because I’m not telling you this from my mouth. You’re shining to me. You really are. The shine isn’t fading. The sun still seems brighter if you’re there.

How do I know that this is true? That this isn’t one of those other baby crushes?

There’s two categories of those baby things, and you fall into neither. People I want to obtain and become, and people I want to just simply love.

I don’t want to become you. And I don’t want to simply love you. I want to have you. Have you. I want you to breathe life into me, make me feel what I’ve wanted to feel for so long. I thought I was broken. And I know you could make me realize that I don’t need to be fixed. I’m attracted to you and what your shine is. And I need it. I never thought I could want someone for their body, but I do. I don’t find the thought of you appalling- I welcome it. Which is a strange thing. For me.

Your hair. Your arms. Your mouth. Your eyes. Your smile. I’d like to touch you, to taste you. I want your body, yes, but I also want your heart, your mind, your soul. I’m burning for you. I touch myself in place of you and, damn, it’s embarrassing to admit, even if no one will see this. I just want to be in your company. No matter how long it takes- it’s all I want. Is that silly? Is that love? What makes me tick that makes me feel this way about you, just you? And the other two, they didn’t make me feel like this. This is bad. This is terrible. It’s sickening.

I’ve asked others what I should do, but they don’t get it. They don’t understand how hard it is for me to even look in your direction, to say hello. It’s hard because you’re full of possibilities. It’s hard because in an instant, it could fall apart, and the sparks I feel between us could fizzle and fade. It’s hard because I don’t understand, and you probably do. It’s hard because I don’t know what to do, and you probably do. It’s hard because I don’t know what you’re thinking, and you do.

I’m asking for help, but I’m just so pissed off that the answers I need are ones that reside within me. I know what to do. And what holds me back is fear. Of failure, rejection. Not hurt. You could hurt me, after the fact, and I’d be fine. But to know that you never saw my shine, that my song never reached your ears, that would kill me. My wavelength doesn’t resonate with just anyone, and I’m really afraid that includes you.

So I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid that I’ll let that fear keep me from what I want yet again. I can make all the excuses I want. But in the end it’s just me.

I pray that you’ll say hi. That you’ll smile on the stairway. That you’ll hold open doors for me again and pass me the attendance. I pray that we’ll have another conversation. Maybe over coffee. I pray that you like nice music, and that you love films. I pray that you’ll tell me we’ll take it slow. And I pray that you take my hand. I pray that this burning feeling I’ve got quenches, and that my body bathes in the waters of your life. I pray that you’ll send me pretty letters and pictures while I send you funny videos and brownies. I pray that things actually happen instead of staying stagnant.

I pray that I’m actually strong enough to do what I want and not give a damn what others think, including you.

thoughts that probably won't make sense

2011-07-17T04:25:00.003-04:00

It's strange how nights like these I wish I was the type of person to toss a few shots back. And simply escape the reality that I have to live with every day.

There are things in my life that I am powerless to rectify, or that I haven't found a feasible solution to them yet. I am not the type of person to do stupid things because of how powerless I feel, and I know I cope with it by escaping into whatever TV show/ movie/ story. I also don't know what it is that prevents me from bursting into tears at the mere sight of things that are nagging at my emotions.

I don't think I'm a particularly "strong" person. Maybe I've learned to just give up control of those things and take back control of other things I've let go by the wayside.

There are certain moments that I wish I could just tweak a bit. And I'm not dwelling on the past. I just know the point in which things failed. And I'm trying to learn from that.

At some point, I had to literally yell at my father in order to make him understand the gravity of his actions on several occasions. People don't understand the gravity of their actions. And they never will.

I know that if my mother hadn't started her doctoral degree, my home life wouldn't be in the disarray that it is.

I know certain things would not have happened, and while I don't know how I would've turned out, I know my father and sister would be different people.

I don't understand how it doesn't make you stay up at night, vomit, or sob to yourself that things have turned out this way. I don't understand how you can ignore your unease, how you can go to work every day, how you can look at us all the same way. I don't understand how you've resigned to your flesh and blood being addicted to drugs and cutting.

And you! You! How do you see us and believe in that moment, you understand everything? You aren't using your eyes. Do you see her skin? Do you see the blood, the sores, the scars? If you did, you wouldn't push the questions, ask things you have no right to know.

And you! You who stood by and let it all unfold. You, caught up in your own problems, couldn't even see the knives, the blades, and the metal scattered around her room. You actually deluded yourself into a reality that simply wasn't true. And how dare you decide later to give a damn, after the damage had been done.

I don't understand any of you. When I'm away, when I'm in college, I have to separate myself from all of you. I have to place a barrier so that I can succeed in my life.

I'm coming to the realization that there are simply some people that you cannot take with you, even if they're your family. I can't take any of you with me. And if you ask why, I'll say it's because of the injustices you committed that I've witnessed. I simply can't stomach any of it. If I remember you're my family, I'll run straight back.

So I've set up this barrier. You over there. Me over here.

I'll pretend our house is a television. I'll pretend it's nothing but a made-up story on a random channel. I'll pretend I can turn it off whenever I please. I'll pretend it doesn't affect me, and that you're just putting on a face for the camera. I'll pretend the emotions aren't real, and I'll pretend I'm the audience, just observing a stage.

Because I've tried. I've tried so hard. And I'm not surrendering- there's no white flag. I'm obviously not strong enough to stop this yet. I'm not experienced enough, old enough, wise enough. I haven't got the answers, stop asking me questions. I'll come back when I can do some good. I'll come back when you've learned from your mistakes, and I'll hope that when that time comes, you're all still alive and well. God knows if you all make it to that point, it'll be a miracle.

It makes me angry. It makes me depressed. It's the root of all my problems, a burden I've got to carry because it's part of who I am. If I could stifle it, I would. It's the burden of family.

...
How am I supposed to become the best possible version of myself when so many negative things are bringing me down?

2011-06-24T03:25:00.000-04:00

I think I could quite possibly be "demisexual," which is "a person who does not experience sexual attraction until they form a strong emotional connection with someone, often (but not always) in a romantic relationship."

I've never felt sexual attraction for a person. Ever. Of course, I know I have "turn-ons" or "kinks," but I've never wanted sex with anyone. I know that of certain celebrities I'll say "wow he's sexy," but to me that just means that I find them attractive- something about them is attractive. And honestly, I'm more attracted to their personality or their spirit than their body. I have the same attraction to Garrett Hedlund from Tron as I do CL from 2NE1. Kate Winslet and Tom Hiddleston are even the same in my head.

I've always wanted to be in a relationship with someone. But it would be a long time before they got anything sexual out of me. I think that's why it grosses me out when someone refers to me in a sexual manner- I'm demisexual.

It's not that I prescribe to a label- I do think sexuality is like a spectrum; there are different intensities. It's just, I've always found it odd that I couldn't identify with anyone. People in college (or even my mom) would say something sexual, like they wanted to have relations with another person, and I'd always find that so weird that I couldn't honestly say the same.

I have affinities for people, but that never means I want them sexually. Even in school, if I talked about a crush I had, it wasn't a "normal" teenage thing. I didn't want to be in a relationship with them. There was just something about them that I liked and wanted to incorporate into my life.

If I were to be in a relationship, I know the person would have to try really hard. They'd probably really "want me" for a while, but have to just wait. And it's not because I'm a virgin. I really honestly don't want sexual contact with people. I may want hugs and kisses, but that's affection and not sexual.

Strangely, I do want to someday be with someone in a physical capacity. But because I never express interest in finding a romantic partner (mainly because it seems like all people want is sex), everyone assumes I'm either a lesbian or that I'm just weird. I confess that I'm not attracted to people at all. And it's hard to strike up friendships with people that may be "potentials" because I'm awkward. And it's a disservice to one's friends if you've chosen them as friends because they might mean something romantically/sexually to you later on. Also, as this little demisexual wiki says, "demisexuality may make forming romantic or sexual relationships more difficult for some people. Demisexuals often make first impressions with sexuals of being "just friends", which may make the sexual value the relationship less." Plus, I may not be sexually attracted to people, but I am attracted to people to the point where I'd want to be friends with them. I know exactly what kinds of friends I want, and I know exactly how I'd want my future romantic partner to be.

People and their relationships fascinate me, partially because I gauge what "normal" is and because I don't know how I fit into all of that. I've never been comfortable discussing my sexuality with people, and I realize now that it's because I honestly never knew what it was. I always thought there was something "wrong with me," and I forced myself to pick a person and like them like my friends would. And in order to seem like my friends, I'd go hardcore with the liking. Later on, I realized I never liked the person to begin with.

Even now, I find myself getting caught up in trying to be attractive towards others, just to prove to myself there's nothing wrong with me, that I'm "normal." But honestly, I've never been what Western/American society would consider "normal," in any aspect of my life. Over the years, I've accepted the mold that makes up just who I am, and I am really not afraid of said mold.

When I think about what I want in a person, I just think that I want their insides to be beautiful. I can tell immediately when I meet someone if they have that quality. The friends I have now fit into my "beautiful" requirement, and that's all I ask for. I think this is why sometimes I can see I'd be satisfied with having my family set up a marriage for me, just as long as the person was good-natured. But part of me hates that might be the only way for me to have a happy ending. That because of the way we are in society, the way I want to experience a relationship is unacceptable.

I think I'm just going to have to wait a while to find someone willing to be that person in my life. I'm not talking about "the one;" I just mean that I am honestly unable to pursue that because it's just not who I am. I'm tired of trying to be what I am not. I just want to be the purest, best version of myself.

And I think putting this all to words is part of the journey to get to that point.

Body Issues

2011-06-01T01:36:00.001-04:00

It’s getting to the point where I don’t want to talk about clothes or exercise or food with my family.

Every time I mention something health-related or finding clothes to fit my body type, my mother starts talking about how I need to lose weight in order to get back to the way I was when I took my senior pictures. I’m not overweight, I eat better than most, and I exercise when I can.

I’ve been trying to explain to my mother that my weight gain didn’t happen until March/April of my senior year, when my hormones started going haywire and my health issues peaked again. That on top of the “Freshman 15” caused me to gain weight. However, January 2011 to March, I started exercising more, trying to regulate my body’s systems, since my parents won’t take me to a gynocologist for my issues. (They maintain that it’s my exercise and diet that are giving me problems.) Yes, I lost my “Freshman 15” and a bit more, but I’m still not where my mother would like me to be.

I don’t like exercising around them. We don’t have any running equipment, and I can’t run outside during the day while they’re gone in the summer due to the sun (I’m supposed to stay out of the sun on my doctor’s orders). They say derogatory things like “It’s about time,” or “Maybe you’ll fit into a size 6 again!” or “Maybe your bra size will go down!”

I don’t like eating around them. “Watch what you’re eating!” or “Don’t have too much of that!” … I have stricter eating habits than they do. I don’t eat red meat, I don’t eat very many dairy products, I’m allergic to a lot things, etc. They either cook what I can’t have or only buy what they like. I have no money to eat how I’d like. (I do in college, however.) As a whole, we eat healthily, so that’s not my issue.

I’m about to tell them that it’s a taboo subject, that they should just not talk about it with me. It’s hindering my self-confidence, and I feel so ugly and misshapen when I’m out and about with them. It’s easy to ignore what others say, to just shrug that off, but you’re supposed to listen to your parents. I hate that. I don’t believe I’m ugly, and I don’t think I’m “overweight.”

However, in order to live the life I want, I do need to lose a bit of weight, which I can do this summer. (Actually, I just want muscles, lol.) I honestly do love myself, and I try not to second-guess my appearance and not be mean to myself mentally, physically, spiritually, and psychologically.

But I can’t acquire the things I want in my life while there’re people around saying such disgusting things to my face. And these are people I’m supposed to love.

2011-05-06T00:57:00.002-04:00

Um.

I don't understand.

My mom and dad (and sister) have been on about how I need to start driving, and that I should've learned in high school.

Here are the reasons why I did not start driving when I was 15.

No car (my mother didn't want me driving her BMW, and my father, understandably, didn't want me to learn on his giant Dodge Ram.)
No insurance (apparently this is quite expensive for little old me)
No job to pay for any of it (gas, insurance, car repairs, etc.)

I wasn't allowed to have a job, even a summer one. My parents wanted me to focus on school; they said they'd drive me where I needed to go. They did. I graduated high school, got into college with two scholarships. My parents only have to pay for my housing.

When I went back home after my first year, I asked about driving. Because I was in summer school, I needed to be driven there and back at weird hours. My parents didn't pay very much attention to it this time, only that they would look into getting a car.

That summer, I had friends who wanted to hang out with me. And always, they had to come pick me up or drive me home. I felt guilty about using their gas money or wasting their time to come out to where I live. I would come home late. We'd see midnight premieres or spend the whole day at someone's house. My parents always knew where I was and who I was there with. I don't lie to them- I'd even take pictures of pretty restaurant food and send pix messages.

Yet I always got questions: Where are you going? Who are you going with? When are you coming home? Did you finish your chores? I never minded the questions, yet it seemed as though they didn't want me going out with my friends, people I hadn't seen in months.

This school year, it's become apparent that I need a car to drive around- runs to Wal-Mart, the art supply store, the printing place. I realized that waiting on others to drive me somewhere was becoming troublesome and expensive for them. I'd buy them food or pay for their art supplies to make up for the gas money they were spending. I told my parents about all my troubles, and they realized I needed a car. My dad and grandfather are trying to get me one.

I still don't have a job. No one will hire me because I have no work experience. I can't even get an architecture internship because no one wants someone as young as me. So I have no money.

I come home almost a week ago. I've been sitting at home all day, either sleeping, watching TV, or cleaning. Last night was the first I'd been out in a few days (to shop for Mother's Day). As a cover up, I told my mom, "I told Daddy I wanted to get out of the house, so we went to Target. I've been cooped up in this house forever." She said that I'd better learn how to drive, or else I'd be "cooped up" for the whole summer, as both of my parents work obscene hours.

My mother and I had a frank "back and forth" conversation about this. I told her plainly that in high school they didn't want me driving, and she denied it. The conversation ended with, "Yaminah, you're going to end up like your aunt! She gets people to drive her everywhere and uses the bus because she won't learn how to drive! She's 60 years old! Just take my BMW. I need a new car anyway." My father promptly said that it'd get stolen. (Which is completely untrue. People at my college drive Audi, Lexus, BMW, and Mercedes cars all the time.) He said, "I'll get you a car."

I don't understand this attitude. They said they'd get me a car and I'd learn how to drive. Fine. I don't understand their attitude towards my outings, which are bound to be more frequent if I could drive.

I just don't understand why they question where I go and what I do when my 13 year old sister is going to eighth grade "prom" and an afterparty when I, at that age, was barred from that. I don't understand how my sister is allowed to go to parties at hotels where boys go, and I could never, and still cannot, do so. I don't understand. I've never lied about where I was going or who I was with. I've never misrepresented my intentions or acted inappropriately when out of the house. None of my previous activity has ever indicated that I would behave in a way that would disappoint them. The worst thing I ever got in trouble for was not cleaning my room.

When I entered puberty, I became restricted with what I could do. I couldn't go to parties with boys, and I couldn't sleep over at friends' houses. I never complained, just told my friends that I couldn't go. I couldn't date, of course, and I couldn't go to school functions like prom or homecoming. I couldn't go to the mall with my friends (the first time I did that was over a break in the winter.) I couldn’t wear bathing suits. I couldn't wear shorts, or shirts that showed my shoulder. I was eight years old when life started to change in that way. I never rebelled, and I never said anything. I just did as I was told. And now, I'm finding that the impact of those things is hurting me slightly.

I'm uncomfortable around people of the opposite sex to a point where if I sit down to talk with a male (that's not in architecture), it just becomes awkward. Several people have confessed to me that they thought I was a lesbian because of this. This spills over into my interactions with females as well, but most people think I'm just a bit odd because I don't interact with new people well.

I'm noticing that my parents and other people I'm around (mostly other people) assume that I have "someone special," and that I'm just private about my personal life. The sad thing is that after my first degree, my parents will probably ask me about marriage/ a boyfriend, and I know I'll have nothing to say about it. How could I, when I was barred from the opposite sex since puberty?

But it'll be just like this driving thing. They'll deny it all later on, and use my sister as an example that they never said those things. My sister's "prom" dress has straps that don't go over her shoulder, and you can see her knees in the dress. My mother buys her new clothes. She goes out with friends over the weekend, and is involved in extracurricular activities that I was never allowed to do. She wears makeup and has a cellphone. She's had boyfriends (that my dad doesn't know about), and she's had her first kiss.

Yet I sit here, having panic attacks because I don't know how to address my male professors. I don't have many clothes that I like- they're hand-me-downs from my mother and aunts, or things that don't fit me properly. I don't have many friends because I was taught that I didn't need friends to live a fulfilling life. I don't know how to network. I get headaches if I get in a crowded area. I hate crossing the street.

I live like the world is a TV show that I watch. I interact with it, yes, but mostly I just watch casually and float on through. When I think about myself relationship-wise/sexually, I don't apply a gender to myself because I watch everything from my seat. I've never had a serious want to be in a relationship with someone. (Even in school, after the guy figured it out, I didn't like him anymore because it lost its appeal.)

I don't understand. What did my parents think would happen if I stayed at home cleaning and cooking and studying? I wouldn't say I'm afraid of the world- I just literally don't know how. And yet because I've watched people all these years, I'm the first person people confide in. I'm the first person people tell about problems. My mother confides in me. My father confides in me. My grandfather has said things to me that he won't tell to others. My sister confides in me. People die, are hurt, and hurt themselves, and others cry to me. I don't cry. I don't show emotion. I play the role that they want, which is to be strong (for them) and tell them words they want or need to hear. I've advised all of these people, helping them right their wrongs, and yet I don't know how to do it for myself.

My mother says I'm free to do what I want. But that's not true.

I do enjoy being myself. I never notice I'm short until someone points it out. I never notice I carry a little more weight until my mother points it out. I never notice my clothes are reused year after year until my father points it out. I never notice I'm single until someone else points it out. I never notice I'm eccentric/eclectic until my sister points it out. I don't mind any of these things that others consider flaws. I really don't.

But when my parents say to me that nothing ever stopped me from learning how to drive, I hold up my hand, telling them to stop right there. I tell them the truth, as I always have, and yet they deny it. What tomfoolery is this? I just don't understand this.

I'm really tired of thinking "oh I can't buy this- my mom will see my bank account" or "no, I can't wear this- my dad will think this about me" or "no, I can't say this, they'll think I approve of this." I never let other people in my life dictate how I live my life- except my parents. I get the bulk of my money from them, I live in their house, and I am their child. I can't just say "fuck it, I do what I want," when it comes to them. I can say that about my professors. I can say that about my classmates. But I can't say it about them.

I've told my parents that at times, I'm not proud of them. I'm not proud of his homophobia, or my mother's issue with weight-gain. I'm not proud that they do and say things that hurt others. But I've never told them that I'm struggling to grow in the shadow that they've cast. There are just things you don't say.

And I'm the type of person that just takes it and takes it. I may complain on the internet or to my friends, but I never complain to them. And one day I just snap, lock my parents in a room, and scream at them what they've done wrong. I've done it several times before. I've told them that someone has to yank them back down. And they sit there, in fear of my rage. But I never yell about things that pertain to myself. I never have.

But this driving thing, it bothers me. It bothers me, not because they wouldn't let me drive before and that's why I'm in this predicament. It bothers me because they deny what I've said. Of all the offenses people commit against me, only three things that bother me: lying to me, hurting me psychologically, and not listening to the words that come out of my mouth. I can forgive the first two things, but the last… I don't lie to the people I love. I never have. I can't. So why would they deny what I say? Is it because they don't want to own up to the responsibility that they messed up back then? They have to reap what they've sown.

I just don't understand.

myself

2011-02-26T21:13:00.003-05:00

I sit here in my bed, cuddled in my blankets before this computer not knowing what to say or how to express myself. I sit here crying, angry and disgusted with myself.

I wonder if my fear of speaking up against people stems from me not wanting to hurt them or because I am weak. I wonder if my polite, nice aspects about myself have turned from being a virtue to a hindrance.

And I wish someone would show me how to become stronger, to become who I want to be. But no one can. I have to rely on myself, and not knowing where to begin disgusts me.

At what point do I break? At what point do I scream and shout and lash out and take back control? Because now I feel so helpless. But not that I can't do things myself. But because I'm letting myself down.

I can't lie to myself. I know what has to be done. I know how I should do things. What stops me? Am I that worried of what others think? Am I so weak that I have to acquiesce to others and be what they label me as?

I know what I want. I know in my heart what's right. I know in my soul what I need in order to make myself happy. Why can't I just screw everyone else and do it?

I look at myself, my eight-year-old self and ask everyday if my younger self would be proud of who I have become. And I don't know that answer. When did I become so weak? When did I become so disgusting, so unwilling to stand for myself and all I hold dear?

I never ever wanted to be viewed as weak. I don't care if I'm ugly, fat, poorly-dressed, an asshole, unintelligent, but I want to be strong. I want nothing else than to endure. Nothing else.

When did my endurance transform into becoming a doormat, being stepped and tramped upon? Endurance is staying there, when it gets tough- unwavering, surviving.

...

When that teacher proposed that I didn't have the drive to become an architect- I'm not angry that he said it. I'm just wondering if that's how I seem. Do I seem frivolous, unworthy of carving any bit of my destiny with my own hands? Because I'm not. I truly am not.

It disgusts me that I haven't shown anyone else the vision of myself that exists in my head.

Do people really see me as short, young, inexperienced, timid, shy, slight, frivolous, dumb, and silly? Do I really seem that way? Maybe I should stop helping others. Maybe I should dress older than I am. Maybe I should stop smiling. Maybe I should stop telling jokes to cheer others up. Maybe I should grow a foot. Maybe I should be gregarious. Maybe I should go out to parties. Maybe I should take up drinking. Maybe I should stop making brownies for my classmates. Maybe I should lie. Maybe I should straighten my hair. Maybe I should stop having faith in people. Maybe I should stop trying to be in others' lives. Maybe I should change my entire view on everything I stand for.

Doing those things, is that what's going to make you respect me? Make you think I'm serious? Make you think I'm intelligent? Make you think I'm worth a damn?

I would say I'm sorry, but I won't apologize for your skewed view of myself.

...

I think this might be the last time I put up with this mess. I'm done. The moment my line was crossed was when that professor told me that I had no drive for architecture. Usually, I would think that because this has happened so many times in my life that the problem is me. No. Not this time. I've thought it over, and I'm done beating up myself when I'm not wrong. Next time, I'll aim my fists at the person who's attacking me.

I'm done feeling hurt. And I'm done with others labeling me. I'm done with people laughing at my opinions, and I'm done with the crap I put up with on a daily basis.

I always equate myself with water. I'm done being a winding river, intent on slowly shaping my environment. I'm focusing on being water rapids with a waterfall at the end, because that's obviously the only part of my nature you'll pay attention to. You thought it was an easy boat ride, but goddamn, you will rue the day. You're going to drown.

happy fucking new year, by the way.

2011-01-18T02:00:00.002-05:00

A couple things I would like to say.

First off, I've noticed that I am a bit of a prude, but only with dealing with boys in real life. If a guy says something suggestive to me, it's an immediate turn off. Yet, with how much sexual content I expose myself to on a regular basis, it's got a bit of a duality to it. Ahaha, and I know that if I did have a boyfriend, I wouldn't be a prude to him. Hahahaha. ... Also, I've noticed I'm a prude only when I'm concerned. Because it'd be too freaking weird if I ever got with anyone, oh my goodness.

Second. I'm changing. I don't know what happened over the semester break, but I am changing. And I like it. My capacity to tolerate bullshit is lessening, and I'm not as "nice." I'm glad that I'm "standing up for myself" more, saying what bothers me, and not trying not to hurt people's feelings in order to reduce friction/conflict.

Third. I've realized that I am sick and tired of the "friends" I have. As in, if you ask me to hang out and I'm subconsciously dreading it, that's not friendship. If I am looking at the clock wondering when the hell I can leave your apartment, that's not friendship. If I have to "regroup" and spend a day by myself after I see you, that's not friendship. I shouldn't have to recover from your idiocy. Friends are people that I'm supposed to be comfortable around. And I'm realizing that those people are not the ones I talk to on Facebook or my former roommates. They make my head hurt, and that can't be what friendship is.

I'm fucking tired of Lisa and Martine here at FAMU. I'm fucking tired of Camille and Denise and high school people who still say they want to be my friend. Because every time I see them, I feel like I'm faking it. Yet when I hang out with Courtney or Tia or internet friends, I feel okay and my headaches go away. BAAAHHHH.

…

Fourth thing is the biggest. ... This whole thing about not having kissed a guy yet... That's my surface issue. On a deeper level, I feel like I'll never find someone who feels that way about me that I like. I don't know what it is about me that turns guys off. But I do know that the guys I find attractive normally don't view me in the same manner. That's annoying.

It's a strange place to be, not having kissed someone. Not having anyone you label as your boyfriend. And what's stranger is that no one can believe it. Even the guys in my studio class sense it, and they're always like "we're going to take you out to a club!" ... *rolls eyes*

Where do you go to find someone that understands you, yet is still different enough to be interesting and new? Where do you go to find someone that is not intimidated by the vibes you give off? Where do you find someone that doesn't think that being Muslim is an instant turn off? Where do you go to find someone that's sensible, smart, open-minded, humorous, cute, and sweet? You can't find that shit in a club or in your history class. So I wish people would stop bugging me about it.

It doesn't sadden me that I haven't gotten a kiss or a boyfriend yet. Or held hands with a boy or hugged a boy. It saddens me that I can't see myself finding a person that I would be willing to give all of those firsts to. Feels like you've been let down. Or you're letting yourself down by not even trying. I cannot explain this feeling. But whenever I look up pictures of couples, my heart wobbles like a baby deer taking his first steps, and then a shot of fear injects itself into me, reminding me that I do not know what the skin of someone else feels like. The simplest thing, someone's skin. And I have no clue what it means.

I fucking understand why people get arranged marriages or their parents introduce them to people to marry.

On a related note, a couple weeks ago, we went to my favorite wing place (it's a sports bar esque place) in Tallahassee to pick up some Carolina gold chicken wings. My mom and I sat and waited for them, and I looked around at all of the people drinking and watching the game. They were my age. I turned to my mother and was like, "Am I young or something? Because these are my peers. I feel mentally older than them, but physically younger." She replied, "q_q I do not understand why you are so little, but yes, you're youthful. *pets my hand* Enjoy it! Damn, your hands are small."

Thank you mother. =_=

Also, news bulletin. If things were different, I could see myself doing drugs or being a closet party girl. Because it seems quite logical.

Also, I find it quite romantic when people throw themselves headfirst into things they love to do. Be that dancing, music, writing, math, photography, partying, whatever. Because if you take a photograph of someone doing what they love best, they look completely beautiful. Just so happy, like an ethereal aura is around them.

I wanted to end this on a good note, lmao.

tell me how it's gonna be- tell me who's the enemy?

2010-11-13T05:04:00.003-05:00

I've got two things that I feel like I need to get off my chest. They're things that have been irritating me. They deal with my old roommate's new apartment-mate, Lisa. Lisa's nice (she drove me to the emergency room at 10pm on a Friday night) and just a generally good person. But there's two things that are pissing me off that I just am beginning to refuse to talk about with her.

First, I'm tired of this whole "virginity" thing. Yes, I'm a virgin. No, I've never had a first kiss. My old roommate's current roommate, Lisa (the person in whose apartment I'm typing from now), keeps pushing me to talk about boys and whenever she talks about her sexual experiences (with only one guy), she's always conscious of the fact that I've got zero experience. (My old roommate, Martine, has had almost zero experience, but she "talks to" guys in a possible relationship capacity.)

Earlier, she asked me how many guys I've liked in my life. There's only been four people I've had a crush on, but I told her that I never wanted to date them because I knew that's not really what I wanted in life, that I was just "crushing" on them. When I told those people that I liked them, it wore off. She thinks that I'm afraid to "let people in." She's seriously on the "prowl" for me, trying to match me up with people. She has a seriously different view of relationships than I do (which comes from her serious need to be in a monogamous relationship all the time… not going to elaborate, but it's only been with one guy).

To be honest, I am conscious of my singleness, but I'm at the point where I honestly don't care that I do not have a boyfriend. Do I care that I haven't experienced my "firsts" yet? Yes- I feel like the longer I wait, the smaller the pool of men there are that would tolerate (and understand) my position becomes. But if I find a person that honestly wants to be in a more-than-friends capacity with me, then I would probably let them in. Since I've waited so long, I'm not going to waste all of these "firsts" on someone who absolutely isn't right.

In short, I hate the fact that Lisa keeps pushing me to talk about it. I'm not close to anyone in college enough to talk about these things (maybe with the exception of Martine because I lived with her for a whole school year). And unless I spend a lot of time with you or our interests are already aligned, I'm really not going to let you in. I think Lisa's trying to get in my life, because she considers me her friend, but she's too wanting to know everything about me and "fix" me. I fix myself. No one else does. Especially not someone who doesn't even know about my "person" (haha, he wanted to be included). … I'm going to talk about that bit later.

So about the virginity thing (boyfriend, kissing, and sex)- leave me the fuck alone about it. I'm at the point where if it happens, it will happen because it feels right. Not because I need to get it out of the way because I feel "ashamed" or like I "missed out."

Second thing that's bothering me- I told Lisa that I wouldn't sleep over unless I could get internet access. So, tonight I did, so I'm sleeping over. She asked me why it was so important that I was connected to the internet (by asking roundabout questions like what do Twitter and Facebook do for you). I don't think she realizes that my friends- true blue ones- are literally inside my computer. The people I talk to over the web (whether I know them in real life or just over the internet) are very dear to me. Not being connected to them would frustrate me. Just being on the internet just calms me down, allows me to enter a medium where I am not criticized or graded. The internet, for me, is very connected to writing. What if I get a fit of inspiration in the middle of the night? What do I do- wait? Ugh.

I think Lisa thinks that I'm one of those people who doesn't like talking to people in real life. As in, I'm awkward-socially deficient-whatever. And yes, to an extent I am, but it's really because the people who share my interests are on the internet. Why the hell would I surround myself with just Martine and Lisa? Martine makes me feel uneasy with her temperament if I've got too much of her, and Lisa's demeanor with her questions is just too intense.

Well, I told Lisa, "You know what, I don't think we should talk about this anymore, because you're not going to understand." And she's like "but I don't like being left hanging!" And I wanted to say "tough luck, you don't know me like that yet." Of course I tried to placate her, and then she said, "I don't like it when people get snippy with me!" I wanted to say that it's not going to help, me talking to a person who has a false sense of openmindedness. I don't know- it just irritates me.

Third. LOL, I didn't think I'd have a third thing. But I guess Lisa wanting to "know me" faster than she should is just annoying. I take a while to warm up to people- even my architecture friends don't see me outside of school, and I've known them longer than Lisa. I'm not particularly an enigma- I'm quite simple, maybe even predictable. But I'm not going to let you get to know me when I know my views will be criticized. That's just how I am. I'd rather your perception of me be a frustrating "mystery" than an open book that you think of negatively. That's just how I am. I don't like people to know too much about me.

Fourth thing. Last thing, I promise. I'm not pursuing boys/men until my "person" issue gets resolved. I don't care if it takes years, but I can't date someone while I still feel so attached to someone else. That would not be fair to the other person, and that wouldn't be good for my emotions. I feel strange thinking of myself dating boys when I'm so attached to an idea already. It's awful, but that's just what I think is best for me. It puts me in an odd place, but I don't care.

[Side note: I guess this is another reason that I hate when Lisa keeps asking me about cute boys or what I look for in men. I can't explain to her the last four and a half years of my life, what has led up to the feelings that I have now. I won't. And I think that this "person" and my issue with him defines the romantic aspect of my life. In some ways, I don't even feel like I'm lacking.]

…

Those are just some of my thoughts. They're not particularly happy, and they may come off as angry or frustrated, but I've realized that this is my issue with Lisa, and I had to put it somewhere.

it's nights like these

2010-10-31T04:25:00.002-04:00

I've got a stupid habit of being in utter love with things that I shouldn't be. These things aren't like candy that'll make me sick. No. These things are things that make me think too hard, too long, and too deeply.

Every time I see Inception, I cry. I know it's the music at the end, the camaraderie that prevails, the joy of Cobb going back to his children. It's the beauty of it. I know it's also that delicious danger, that depression of them always being alone, the scariness of Mal's relationship with Cobb. It's that melancholy of it.

I see too much of myself in that movie. I see Eames- it's imperative that he knows who people truly are. I somehow understand the vibes flowing off people and know who they are- it may take me a while, but I eventually know. I see Arthur- calm, timing somehow always right, never questioning what is asked of him. I, in my life, always have things work for me, I always do what duty calls for, and sometimes I can be stoic to the point of what seems like heartlessness (insert my mother's father's death here). I see Ariadne- curious, an architect, short and naïve. I'm in school for architecture, because I need to create; I may have the look of a child, but I'm smart on my own, I hope.

But I see myself in Mal and Cobb more than anything else. And if you're reading this, you know what I mean. You know the exact situation. But I find myself asking more and more- am I Mal? Or am I Cobb? Am I the one begging him to stay with me here in this sick madness? Or am I the one begging to be freed from my chains, wanting to shed my guilt and the shade?

It's this duality that scares me, that's causing me to second-guess myself. I can't do anything about it, but the weight of it makes me sick with worry and sadness and guilt. I could stay up for hours contemplating it all. And yet I know that the issue is not whether I am Cobb or if I'm Mal. The issue, the true underlying issue is something I really don't want to even think about.

Is it real? Or is it all just a dream that I've yet to wake up from? Is this really happening- or am I just insane? And I know I've asked myself (and two others) this over and over, whispering it into the night, but I can't let it go.

And yet, when someone asks me what I think the ending of Inception is, I always say that it doesn't really matter to me. Cobb is exactly where he wants to be. He's home.

I thought initially that I was Cobb and that he was Mal; he's a shade- a cancer, growing on me. A manifestation of whatever emotions that lay deep within me. And I can't get rid of it, because I'm still so madly in love and attached. And I entertain thoughts of moving on with my life until I realize I have to confront my own Mal and lay those feelings to rest. So I can go home, where I'm supposed to be.

But that's not the issue, not really.

My fear, I suppose, is that I'm Mal. I'm afraid that where my Cobb wants to be is anywhere that I'm not. Because he promised. He promised that we'd be together. Every single time Mal says that Cobb "promised," I understand her pain. And then, finally, Cobb says, "But we did grow old together- you just don't remember." But he did it to her. As Mal said, "You're infecting my mind! ... You betrayed me." Because he is infecting my mind. And if he breaks his promise, it's very much betrayal, isn't it?

This whole thing is sickening. Sickening, disgusting, unbelievable, unsettling, freakish. But it's absolutely delicious. I don't know how to convey that to anyone that doesn't already know for themselves.

… And that's the beauty of Inception, isn't it? You don't know how to explain to someone who doesn't know. Also, you cannot be sure if it was real or not. So, I suppose I've got to figure out if it's real or not. Then I can figure out who I am.

*reads over everything she just wrote*

I'm absofuckinglutely a complete dumbfuck. What the hell is this going to achieve? Like somehow putting it to paper will make it better. What the hell is wrong with me? I need to stop thinking and be a fucking doormat-overachiever-insipid-douche or something. I don't understand myself. If you'd like, you can excuse the load of bullshit you just read.

I need to go to bed. It's nights like these that are the longest. I've been having a lot of them lately.

2010-09-23T19:07:00.000-04:00

Lately I've realized how much I don't like whining over the internet because I've been on LiveJournal reading fanfiction and commenting happily. But here's a rant/ whining anyway.

I realize that I don't like confrontation. I can't confront anyone about anything because I think in some small way, I'm intimidated. That is not to say I lack self-confidence. What I mean is that I think being in close proximity to people (i.e. living with them) makes me highly sensitive to having disagreements with those people. [Because I feel emotional/mood waves coming off of people, if it's not right, I'll do anything to keep a proper ratio of those vibes radiating. And the vibes that end up hitting me had better be the frequency I want. {I'm sorry if that makes no sense.}] Anyway, these people that you have disagreements with and live with- they could seriously screw you over or make living in that place uneasy. That is the case with my RA, Shannon.

When something's wrong, I always look inward first. Examples: "Oh no- she's got a frown- did I leave something on? Did I say something strange?" Rarely do I look outward first. So, at first, when my RA started complaining to me that things were wrong with what I was cleaning, I was like "oh no! let me go check this!" And a deep guilt bubbled in my stomach. So I cleaned everything over (even though I was tired or had other things to do) and tried not to step on her toes. Yet still, the vibes she radiated were positively mean. I kept rechecking myself over and over (and when anyone asked, I just said "oh, I'll talk to her about it later" or "oh no, it's fine now."). And you know what I've found? The problem is not me. And I know you're probably like "well duh, it's not you." It takes me a long time to realize those things. I think it's because I don't like confrontation. If I confront her, that means acknowledging (other than the fact that she obviously does not like me) that I have to "fight" for something that shouldn't really matter in the first place. The only things I fight for are the things that I love most in life. But this girl is really starting to anger me. And goodness knows I have such bad anger issues that I scare my parents.

The RA likes to keep the air (currently) on 66 degrees, because she says that she likes it cold, that temperature helps to fight germs, and that the apartment heats up too easily. There is a [new] note on the thermostat that says if we change the temperature, she'll fine the whole apartment. Now, I'll tell you right now that I've been wearing hoodies and sweats the whole time I've been living here in 162 3K, and it's 90-something degrees outside. It's so cold and dry that I wake up with nosebleeds and my skin is gray and patchy and literally flaking from the cold. I'm also getting sick and I'm wrapped in blankets. She says to "open the window" if we're cold. When you open the window, you can hear the construction outside, and it's cool at night. It doesn't even equalize the temperature.

She's messing with my living environment. And sooner or later, I will lash out. It's not good to keep things bottled up- I know. It's not good to explode either. But I just have too much going on in my life for her to fuck with my environment like this.

My scholarship has not been posted. I worked hard enough and was fortunate enough to get tuition and fees paid. I also have a stipend from the school of architecture for almost a thousand dollars per semester as spending money. I need that money. Last Thursday, I went out to eat for the first time this semester [it was too good, too]; I didn't spend very much. Last Saturday, I went to go get my prescriptions filled because I finally had the time and money to get them. To put it nicely, I had to leave some prescriptions because my insurance decided that it didn't want to give me the whole discount. So I got some printer ink with my prescriptions, got some food. The following Sunday, I went to the art supply store to get materials for models. Then on Monday, I got an alert from the bank saying my balance was zero dollars. Heaven knows I don't buy anything other than food, school supplies, and art supplies. And now I've got a giant project due Monday and I don't even have enough money to buy the materials I need (I already used the other materials from Sunday). Never mind the fact that I have almost no food in my apartment. I even have to pick and choose which of my dirty clothes I'm going to wash because I just don't have enough money to wash everything.

My health is suffering from lack of money and because of my RA. I have no food, no materials for projects/ school, no medicine for the cold I have because of the draft in the apartment, no proper medicine for my migraines (which I'm getting due to all of this stress).

I'm seriously contemplating not going to class tomorrow. Just because I'm so damn tired, and my spirit is riddled with cracks. My very soul is tired of this. I just want to lock the door and sleep. I'm seriously contemplating finding Shannon and giving her a piece of my mind because I'm sick and tired and I'm tired of being sick and tired.

The panic attacks got better. As much as I don't like being around people, I have to be around them or else I'll get overwhelmed when I go to lecture halls and there are 70 people in the same room as me. The panic attacks got better, but my heart just feels so much heavier.

i'm a young one stuck in the box of an old one's head.

2010-08-29T17:30:00.003-04:00

While I'm waiting for my chicken to thaw so I can put it into the oven, I thought I'd update this blog.

I've been in solitude in my room for the majority of this weekend. I haven't really talked to anyone that wasn't on the internet, save for a couple phone calls. I watched the first season of an anime (Darker than Black- it's quite interesting, actually, even if the ending is like Witch Hunter Robin in that it's vague), and I partied with internet friends. I've come to a couple of conclusions.

I have a person in my life that I wish wasn't. He's arrogant, insane, and believes he's always right. When I needed him last semester, he gave me (and my old roommate) rides to Wal-Mart, which we both needed (and accepted against our better judgment). Now, I want nothing to do with him. His vibe is all wrong. And even though it's rude to ignore someone that's given a bunch to you, I frankly could care less. I don't answer my phone, and I don't answer him on Facebook. And if he thinks I'm mean, then so be it. This situation has made me realize how very much I want to be liked by everyone (which is why my default mannerisms that I project are just nice and clueless), and how bad that is for me. If I try to satisfy someone that I don't even like (or isn't even giving me something I want badly [i.e. a crazy teacher giving me a grade]), then I'm somehow hurting myself. And I've decided that if being talked about in a "mean" fashion is what I get for not hanging out with him, then that's fine. I don't need opinions from someone whose opinions I don't even value.

When I graduate, I want my degree to say that I graduated with a very high GPA and good accolades. However, I've decided that graduating "with honors" from the honors program is far too much work in this school, to the point where it would inhibit on my architectural degree. Seriously, I don't want to be absent 2 weeks each semester for "honors conferences" (that would be missing 18 hours of design class!), take 18 hours of honors credits that my major doesn't have, and participate in meetings that infringe on my time to build models. And when it comes down to it, people really don't care that you graduated "with honors" in that way. I'm going to graduate with a Masters degree before I'm 25. I'll be a badass already. So, yeah. That's another example of me satisfying something that I don't even want/ benefit from.

My RA, as I've already said, is absolutely insane. I don't understand how she can "terrorize" us in the way that she has and then decide to be my friend on Facebook. Hell no, you cannot be on my friends' list. I actually like most of the people on that list, thanks. If I added you, my other friends' value would be decreased. Sahrry.

I also realize that while I do have more people that I'm friends with at FAMU rather than in Georgia, that number still remains in the single digits. And I am so glad that I don't mind this. Most of the people on the internet understand me (*cough my obsessions cough*) more than the people at FAMU ever will. And I don't care that I don't have more friends. I love the ones I do have.

I feel like this blogger is the only place that I'm absolutely safe where no one will read this other than the people I want to read it.

I think that's about it. I've put the chicken in the oven. I'm going to go take my shower now, do my homework, maybe go to the Emmy party on ONTD, and then watch True Blood.

I've also come to the realization that I like my solitude. Not having anyone to talk to (verbally) makes me realize how much I actually need to say. I've always thought that being reserved with words is oddly quixotic.

===

And in relation to the song lyrics of the title. It comes from a song that has a tendency to make me (want to) cry. It's "W.A.M.S." by Fall Out Boy. It's from the part of the album that I'd written off because I didn't like the intro. LOL. But, some of the lyrics really talk to me. All of the songs that I'd originally "written off" ... scare me.

first day of class & some irritations

2010-08-23T18:58:00.004-04:00

Okay, so today was the first day of class. I had Physics, Intro to Architectural Technology, and Design 2.1 (otherwise known as studio). I AM GOING TO BE SO HUNGRY FROM 12:20 to 4:30. I LITERALLY HAVE NO BREAK. But we can eat in studio, so that's fine. Boo hunger!

Random thoughts had throughout the day:

1.) I want an Inception tattoo, but something interesting.
2.) What the fuck is in my hair and why does no one tell me when there's shit in it. It's not like I can see.
3.) I fucking dislike physics. This is like that time I couldn't move on to geometry and had to retake algebra. SHITTY.

Design: Um, the teacher reminds me of Arthur from Inception. Not in a cute way, but in his rigidity of architecture. I don't know how to explain. Also, this teacher is going to be amusing because he said that holding a "marking instrument" (aka: a pen or pencil) oozes with "sensuality." Take from that what you will.

Also in design, our class is all messed up (meaning, it's not held with the other second year studios and it's not in the morning), and we get to have studio with third years and fourth years and graduate students. The architecture building, as a general rule, houses the most attractive boys on the campus. And do they ever. Oi, be still my beating heart. I don't know if I'll be able to work in my cubicle (my very own area with a window!) without- just kidding. I wouldn't want to date an arch-major, I don't think. [Unless it was Arthur. Or even Cobb. Hell, Ariadne and Mal too. Eames is not an architect, sadly.] Our professor was, erm, "schooling" us on "studio-culture," to my amusement.

Moving on. The professor was telling us about the course, what we would learn, etc. and I started crying. Yes, crying. You do not know how much I missed studio class. I had this sense of really really needing to build and create. I can't explain. The professor said something about giving up other things for the sake of architecture, but there's really only two things I'm willing to work hard for (architecture and writing). I don't feel like I'm giving up anything by working late or cutting up my fingers because I love it just that much.

Two things that are bothering me.

One. The person I share my bathroom with is also my RA. She doesn't get in my business or anything, but I feel like she doesn't care. Like I live here, she doesn't care what happens, just as long as I fit into her plan and shut up. I cleaned the bathroom twice, furnished a trashcan, toilet brush, and other cleaning items (she doesn't know about those though), and it's like she does not acknowledge that I even live there. And guess what? I'm going to hoard my toilet paper and not furnish that because she hasn't even said hi. Yes, I know I made a mess while washing my hair in the bathroom. But I really can't clean it while the room is all wet and humid, can i?

Two. I love my hair, but people's reactions to my hair are pissing me off. I don't mind the people who ask about it ("how long have you been natural; how'd you grow it out"). What makes me mad is the people who look at it like it's fucking retarded (you look like you got off the African boat) or tell me how to take care of it (make sure you wash it with blahblahblah). They don't get that I wash it, I put conditioner in it, I comb leave-in conditioner in it, and then I LEAVE IT THE FUCK ALONE. Don't tell me that you think I put a texturizer in it. Don't tell me what type of comb to use. Don't tell me what type of shampoo to use. I spent the whole summer finding out what worked on my hair. No, I can't use a damn pick. Why? It'll fucking BREAK OFF AND GO STRAIGHT. And yes, I KNOW there is lint in my hair. I CANNOT SEE THE BACK OF MY FUCKING HEAD EXCEPT WITH TWO MIRRORS ANGLED PROPERLY. My hair attracts lint and fucking flying bugs. Please, TELL ME WHERE IT IS. Don't tell me to fucking wash it. You go fucking put your weave in properly. I can see the damn glue- go sew it in. Do not tell me that it's too hot for my hair. It's out of my face, off my back, and I can work out in it. And please, for the love of God. DO NOT PULL IT GODDAMMIT. I AM ATTACHED TO MY HAIR. IT STAYS IN MY SCALP, THANKS.

In other news, I've had my hair this way as long as Inception has been in theatres. ♥

Other thoughts.

I think I'm hard to get. I don't know, but you're not getting any play if you look like you're a douchebag. And sorry, but the majority of you ARE douchebags. Also, booty calls do not work. Don't slow down your car and call "damn, gurl!" out at me. Motherfucker, I will fuck you and your mom's shit up. I am a nice person (I think), but I'm not nice to dudes if you approach me like you're a rhino in mating season. You are not a lion, and I am not in your pride/harem of women. And to all of the dudes that are smart and nice and cute: WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? (Probably in the Arch, Engineering, or Pharmacy buildings...)

I do not like Monte Carlos. Those cars look SO DUMB. There are fifty bajillion of them on campus, and people pimp them out like crazy.

*Reads the above*

Wow, I sound angry. I'm not, I just have a headache, and my RA frustrates me. Also, I just want to live in the architecture building and not have to do anything else, seriously. And I just needed to vent out all of the things I've been thinking all day. Can't do that on Twitter very well.

---

I just realized that the Inception Bang "Contest" that I'm in is going to run from August until January. Technically, that's longer than Design 2.1 or Physics. Oh snap. This story is gonna be the shit.

the last 3 days of my challenge & some other things.

2010-08-18T01:14:00.002-04:00

Day 28 - What about a veggie/hamburger based off Inception?: It'd be called "Specificity." It would be a turkey burger, because I can't have beef. It would have really great omnoms on it, such as sautéed onions and peppers. With provolone cheese. It would be simple yet classic. It can also be vegan.

Day 29 - Yes/No/Maybe So? Whatever day! I'd like to say that I do love Inception, just because it's everything I like put into one place. I'd work so well in that world. I know I'd be one of the best, too. Ugh. I love Inception. And anyone who doesn't understand (or is annoyed by) my love for it just doesn't know me very well. My life, like Inception, seems so very normal, with a few exceptions. And when you take those exceptions and take a look at me, you'll see that those exceptions define who I am. Like Cobb- he's normal except for his dreaming. But his dreaming defines who he is. ♥

Day 30 - A letter to Christopher Nolan: You, sir, are brilliant. I think that taking an idea and extrapolating on it the way you have is just beautiful. I want to take your mind and make sweet love to it. And I'm not joking. I often love people for their minds and not just their bodies/looks. And your mind is one of the most absolutely beautiful I have ever seen. That is the highest compliment I give. And also- I don't know what you or your brother's problem is with losing wives/ girlfriends, but it's hella weird. Thank you for your time, and keep it up. I may not be your craziest fan, but I sure as hell adore your movies and your devices that make them so good.

===

I don't know how to tell people my problems. Especially my family. I talk a lot. Literally about nothing that really matters. I can't tell my parents about my D in Physics. And I can't call my grandfather to tell him how I'm doing. I can't.

Reasons. Well, my parents, I can't tell them because I feel like they have so much stress on their plates right now. My mother is dealing with a new child in the household (my cousin who needs major help), her doctorate degree, and her new motherfucking crazy as shit principal boss (I met him, shook his hand, and saw his eyes. They were fucking empty. There was nothing behind his eyes. And I'm very good about sensing people.). My mother is thinking about quitting her job, but she needs the money. And she's so very tired. Telling her about my misfortunes would only bring more on her plate. My father is fasting and dealing with his issues at work. Fasting takes a lot of willpower, as I know from experience. I don't want to say that going without food does not affect me personally, but it's interesting. You don't realize how much you think/talk/do with food until you have to not do it. But my father is dealing with a lot, and it's even hurting my mother psychologically. My grandfather, every time I call, always asks me if I'm okay. In every way possible. He offers to send me money- thousands of dollars at a time. But I tell him I'm fine. That I'm okay and don't need it. How do you tell someone that "yes, I'd like five thousand, and then I'll be okay"? I can't. I don't like asking or telling people I need money. But I do need it.

I fucking hate money. It makes our world spin. And I hate it. I owe my mother $1200 dollars. I need $2200 for my housing. I need a couple hundred for food and books and a P.O. box and clothes. I don't like that money has so much of a hold on me. I feel sick thinking about it.

So I can't tell my parents that I failed because it means their money has gone to waste. I know I've said it before, but it means that I have failed and disappointed them. My grandfather included. For some reason, my family holds me in such high regard, speaking of me higher than my older cousins who are older than me by almost a decade. I am happy to honor them as I can, but it hurts so much. And here in the solitude of my apartment, I've had hours to contemplate things that I really don't want to.
Speaking of family. I've always been able to read people properly, consciously or subconsciously. I was stressing out about the fact that I never thanked my aunt for my new Victoria's Secret PINK FAMU pants. Then I realized that she hadn't spoken to me the whole time I was in PA. Then I realized that the things that happened last April Fools' Day were still mulling over in her heart. And then I decided "screw her." She will never know how much I cried over what she did to my family. She won't ever know what I carry in my heart. How I can feel her hate for my mother over state lines. My mother doesn't visit my PA family because of the contempt they have for her. Only my grandfather and my cray-cray uncle ever come and see my mother. And I know now. That because I am her daughter, I will never be loved like the others. Neither will my sister. Maybe that's why my grandfather does so much for us. They all know something, something that they don't want us to know. I think it either has something to do with our large, secretive family. Or. I think it has to do with the supernatural.

The very worst thing. Someone can do to me is disappoint me. The very worst. People whose minds are closed, they do that. People who hurt my sister, they do that. People who don't want to understand anything, they do that. People who do not listen or think I'm too naive to listen, they do that. I can't explain, but disappointing me is so hard to do that I literally break apart over it. Feelings and people's minds and people's words are so close to me that it hurts. Physically, mentally, spiritually. It fucking hurts. And I can never tell them, because voicing it tears me up more than keeping it a secret does. It makes it real.

So. Do not fuck with me. This goes to family most of all. I can forget you. Even though it is a sin to do so, and even though betraying blood is bad. Do not cross me. You break me down when you don't understand. I am not a child inside my mind. I do have much to learn, but I can see more than you want to. I have faults, I have problems. But I try to do so much to jump those hurdles. And you never notice it. Don't, for the love of God, don't you fuck with me like that. You hurting me in your way is nothing. Nothing, compared to my abhorrence for what you've done. I cannot find the words for what my family has done, and I won't say what they did. But I will show you all one day. That you shouldn't've forgotten about me.

On the upside. School starts Monday. 8D well. that's a change of mood, hey?

days 26 & 27 and a summary of my current life

2010-08-11T23:46:00.002-04:00

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.

====

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.

days 21-25

2010-08-10T19:23:00.002-04:00

Day 21 - What was the best dream you ever had?: I normally have alright dreams, but I remember one where I was a ninja. And last night, I had a dream that I was on Cobb's team. So, that was lovely.

Day 22 - What was the worst dream you ever had?: Just a short while ago, I couldn't dream unless it was a nightmare. So, some worst dreams- being whipped, drowning, bowing to Satan, etc. =/

Day 23 - A letter to your favorite character:

Dearest Ariadne! Don't lose yourself- stay grounded. Always "dream big," and think like a child. They've got the best imaginations. Also, do you have Eames' phone number? -- Yaminah

Day 24 - How many times have you or are you going to see Inception? As of today, I've seen it four times. I'm going to see it again with a friend in college. Cool thing though- I've noticed something new every time I watched it.

Day 25 - Who would you incept?: … Christopher Nolan. And why? That's day 26.

=======

Today I decided to stop crying and to be happy. So. That's what I'm doing right now. Things to pack! GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE! I've got some more cleaning things to buy, then toiletries. Packing shouldn't be much of a problem, I don't think. I've already packed my clothes and my books. I just need to buy everything and then sort it out.

So, my schedule is looking like... (These are approximate times, lol.)

MWF - Physics (10 to 11); Arch History (12 to 1); Design 2.1 (1:30 to 4:30)

TTh - World Geography (9 to 10); Arch Theory (1 to 2)

I'm still shaking my head at that Physics one. But I've got a plan that may work. I just don't want my parents to ... blow up at me.

Speaking of which, I don't understand how people can look up to you so much, you know? Like, hold you on such a high pedestal, and then when you know you've done something to let them down, you feel so bad about it. It makes failure close to unbearable (we're not even talking about letting your own self down either), but I feel like failure is a part of life.

days... whatever up until day 20

2010-08-05T23:53:00.002-04:00

Day 15 - The Architect?: Me. Because I am my own friend. LOL. No, this job just fits me perfectly. I love it a lot.

Day 16 - The Tourist?: My cousin Imani. She'd be cool. Whenever we play videogames, she's the extra hand that knows how to do everything else that we don't. And also, whenever we need something, she already has it.

Day 17 - The Mark?: I don't know. Probably someone "important." I don't really want anyone to do anything. Maybe Christopher Nolan. And plant the idea to hire me. Or something of that nature.

Day 18 - Take a picture/draw/sing/whatever something Inception related.

"Bad Inception"

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Inception in our pants.

In-in-in-inception

Oh-Inc-Inception
Want inception in my pants.

I want your GQ clothes
I want all your totems.
I want your everything
As long as it’s in a dream
I want to dream.
Dreams, dreams, dreams
Inside more dreams

I want dream drama
Want Saito buyin' airplanes.
I want Mal makin' buildings in the sand
I want to dream those
Dreams, dreams dreams
Inside more dreams.

You know that you want it.
And you know that you need it.
You want it bad.
Inception in your pants.

You want inception
And you want it in bed
Chris Nolan wrote a badass movie
I want inception
And I want it in bed
We can share Inception in our dreams
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Inception in our pants
Cept-cept-ception
Incept, inception
Want you in my pants

I want Ariadne.
I want her designs.
‘Cuz she's a criminal
As long as she's with Cobb.
I want Chemist drugs.
For those dreams, dreams, dreams
Inside more dreams

I want your psycho dead wife
Your children and shit.
Almost get hit by a train,
What the fuck is this?
Don't want limbo.
Limbo, bo
Don't want limbo.

You know that I want you (’Cuz I’m an extractin' bitch, baby)
And you know that I need you
We want it bad.
Inception in our pants.

I want Eames' snark and
I want Arthur's red die
I just want Inception in my pants.
After the movie I was mindfucked
So I'll take my revenge
And I'll fuck inception in the pants.

Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh

Inception in our pants.

In-in-in-inception

Oh-Inc-Inception
Want inception in my pants.

Build, build Ariadne work it
C'mon you can dream it c-razy
Walk walk up those walls-
Arthur, move your ass c-razy
Eames, Eames dreamin' big
Drivin all those girls c-razy
Dream, dream Fischer dear,
Cobb, you're an extractor, baby

I want those dreams
And I want Inception.
Don't want Cobb's wife
I just wanna extract.

Mustn't be afraid to dream
a little bigger darling.
Just dream big
Or wake the hell up!
But I don't wanna wake up.
WHY AM I WAKING UP?
(Want Inception in my pants,
Just want inception in my pants.)
Want Inception in my pants!

I want Inception,
And I want it in bed.
Chris Nolan wrote a badass movie.
I want Inception,
And I want the team in bed.
Want Inception in my pants.

Inception in my pants.
Inception in my bed.
Inception in my dreams.

Day 19 - Would you mind if the concept of idea thievery and inception was a part of our reality? Why or why not? No, I wouldn't mind. I would just have to not be on the internet as much. I feel like the topic of our minds being wide open for people to take our ideas is already out there, just because we use the internet so much. I must admit that our reality would be a hell of a lot cooler and more GQMF. I would love doing Inception-like things. I could play out all of my stories in my head. Literally.

Day 20 - A pairing you ship: Oh darling, why would you ask me this? LOL. I love Arthur/Ariadne (for the cute fluff), and I also love Arthur/Eames (for the awkward, badass sex). But, my one true three would have to be Arthur/Ariadne/Eames. It so works, people!

====

I was going to post the reason why I was extremely angry, but I've decided against it. Just because I've said it all before, and saying it again would piss me off more. So yes. It would also ruin this post.

inception days 10, 11, 12, 13, & 14; yes i was slacking.

2010-07-30T02:57:00.002-04:00

Day 10 - If you could guarantee one Academy Award for Inception, what would it be (besides best movie)?: Is there a category for special effects without computers? If so, it'd win. Other than that, best original screenplay, best directing. And Marion Cotillard for best supporting actress. You played a crazy bitch well.

Day 11 - In your group of friends who would be the Extractor?: Lol, my friend Courtney. The reasoning behind this is because she's got a lot of attributes from each of the other jobs (which you need for Extracting), and she could probably handle the action.

Day 12 - The Point Man?: I feel like this would be my old roommate Martine. She loves research and loves history. Also, she remembers it all and is really good at putting it all together. And she'd want some badass job like Arthur (Joseph Gordon Levitt) has, with all the guns.

Day 13 - The Chemist?: This is a hard one, just because none of my friends are into chemistry. Collectively, I think we know how to drug ourselves…? LOL, seriously though. I'm not quite sure of this, and I never will be.

Day 14 - The Forger?: My friend named Amber. I've never met anyone who can just walk up to anyone and make that person feel completely comfortable enough to just talk about their lives except Amber. I feel like she'd make a good Forger.

inception day eight and nine & other junk.

2010-07-25T01:29:00.002-04:00

oooh, here we go!! SPOILER ALERT.

Day 8 - Your reaction to the ending: I cried. Not like a baby, but because that ending makes the whole movie. I needed to know if the totem fell over, and then I realized I didn't want to know. Because even if it was all a dream, Cobb is where he'd like to be now. And isn't that what we wish for each other, to know that everything is alright for each other? It's like the reason why people go loopy for Harry Potter or Lady Gaga. The way the story makes you feel, the way the music makes you feel, is what matters. Does it matter if you can't touch it, if it's not real? No. Because you felt something, and you grew from it.

Day 9 - Do you think it fell over?: No, my official~ answer is no. I think he's in his head, lost. His lost grip on reality, the fact that the dreams could very well have been a reality, confirms it for me. [See the scene where they get the chemist & when he talks to Mal in the end.] However, I used to want it to fall over, just because my favorite characters would exist! But I think Cobb based them all on real people, so It's okay. I'VE GOT SO MANY THEORIES.

=====

For the life of me, I can't clean my room. I just can't. I don't know what it is other than the sheer overwhelming-ness quality that cleaning my room has. Unless I absolutely MUST do it, I become overwhelmed easily, as evidenced by the fact that packing or unpacking all of my dorm things is so easy. I should go do the dishes. Then I'll go do some crap related to fixing my clothes.

If I didn't have the internet, I'd probably be a proactive, energetic, progressive person. Life fail?

my 30 day INCEPTION thing. & other things

2010-07-24T01:16:00.007-04:00

~~Day 1 - Your favorite character:~~ ~~Eames, Arthur, or Ariadne.~~
~~Day 2 - Your favorite quote: "Don't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." & "A single idea from the human mind can bu~~ild cities. An idea can transform the world and rewrite all the rules."
Day 3 - Your favorite scene: The whole damn movie, dammit.
Day 4 - Your favorite score: Hm. Probably the one that was playing when Fischer got shot at the end. I thought the whole thing was beautiful, but this one really got my heart racing.
Day 5 - Your totem: In all honesty, probably a ring or an earring.
Day 6 - A song that makes you think of Inception: This song by Fall Out Boy that goes "You are the dreamer, and we are the dream. I could write it better than you ever felt it." (Hum Hallelujah)

Day 7 - Who would you be and why? (Forger, Architect, Point Man, Extractor, Chemist): I would be the Architect, simply because that's what I'm going to school for. LOL. Being the Point Man would be too boring for my taste, being the Extractor is too too intense for me, and being the Chemist requires too much SCIENCE. The Shade, The Mark, and The Tourist don't even really work in the whole thing. And if I couldn't be an Architect, I'd be a Forger. Because Eames was a badass. And I love badassery. And though he wasn't "smart" like the Point Man, he understood people's minds and how to get what he wanted from their mind.

And I know it's technically Saturday and should post day eight. I'm going to wait for the daytime for that.

This is my darling desktop wallpaper right now. [The quote is my favorite quote from the movie.] I got the pic from someone, but I photoshopped the quote in.
-----

I've been told that I'm boring/conservative in my mode of dress. When I make up outfits for my characters and think about what to wear, I do semi-outrageous things. So, it made no sense to me why my mother turned to me and said "you know you're boring, right?" .... It kinda hurt for her to say this. I like odd clothes, shoes, bags, jackets. I own many jackets in odd colors (highlighter orange and lime green and other things...). So I've decided that this upcoming semester I'm not going to be "boring." ... The word boring pisses me right the hell off. So fuck that noise, I do what I want.

Speaking of which, I've come to the point where I honestly don't care [what people think of me]. And if I do, I'm not going to let you see it. LOL. *random thought process where I come to a conclusion that no one's going to understand* I think that, for me, "not caring what others think of me" comes from self-importance. Maybe too much of it. And self-importance might not even be what I'm talking about. Oh well.

I think I accidentally led my cousin who I previously talked about to this page. How do I lock this thing? *frustrations*
---

I'm cutting up old magazines to decorate a gift bag for gifts that I'm giving to my old roommate. I love making things out of paper things. I've got an attachment to all things paper. I think it's because of writing. But seriously, once something is in text, in print, you can't take it back... It's weird for me, like a no-return policy.

INCEPTION. INCEPTION.

2010-07-23T03:02:00.002-04:00

I GOT THIS FROM TUMBLR. ... I'm going to go from the first time I saw Inception, which was 6 days ago. So I'm filling in the first six. and I might have multiple answers.

Day 1 - Your favorite character: Eames, Arthur, or Ariadne.

Day 2 - Your favorite quote: "Don't be afraid to dream a little bigger, darling." & "A single idea from the human mind can build cities. An idea can transform the world and rewrite all the rules."

Day 3 - Your favorite scene: The whole damn movie, dammit.

Day 4 - Your favorite score: Hm. Probably the one that was playing when Fischer got shot at the end. I thought the whole thing was beautiful, but this one really got my heart racing.

Day 5 - Your totem: In all honesty, probably a ring or an earring.

Day 6 - A song that makes you think of Inception: This song by Fall Out Boy that goes "You are the dreamer, and we are the dream. I could write it better than you ever felt it." (Hum Hallelujah)

That's all for now. Day 7 is tomorrow. =D

[i'm the] queen of apology

2010-07-15T01:29:00.004-04:00

Before I begin, I would just like to apologize if I'm a depressing person. I feel like blogs are a place to put things I wouldn't normally say aloud. *shrug* Unfortunately, I say good things but keep bad things inside. So, for me blogs may be slightly depressing because I just don't say it. But I don't think this one is depressing, just chatty.

---

Blog Post 7/14/2010

Things I Have Learned This Week (… and it's only Wednesday)

1. My cousin from the Bahamas (who is in elementary school) is not doing well in school due to the fact that no one can take her. Therefore, she's coming to live with us here in Georgia (she was born here, so it's more or less okay) and go to school here where there's structure. Please note that my 24 year old cousin is already living with us (to find a job), but is going back to college in late August. {more on that later} This means that my 24 year old cousin will move into my room while my Bahamian cousin lives in the room that my 24 year old cousin occupies now (for a little while). Which means that for a week or two, I (or my cousin) will be without a room. [Her not having a room is worse than me not having a room in my opinion because she'll take it internally and complain and be sad about it.]

2. My 24 year old cousin who I previously mentioned cries to herself when she thinks no one notices. This is because she's been here for a year going to job fairs and tutoring and substitute teaching and she hasn't gotten a job. She is trying to become an actuary as well. She actually wants to be a writer, but I think she's doing the whole "starving artist" thing. She makes things hard for herself, and because she's so absorbed in herself, she fails to notice the failing structure of our home. She thinks that because she technically doesn't live here, that it's not her problem. Note that this is the same cousin who, on April Fool's Day of this year, threw our entire family into tumult because of her carelessness. She's going back to college to get a degree in "geography planning," which is something she doesn't even want to do, but she's doing it because they'll pay her for it.

3. Money is scarce. Because my parents did not want me to drive in high school, I do not know how to drive. Because I do not know how to drive, I have no car. Because I have no car, I can't go to places where I need to be. Because I can't get anywhere, I cannot get a job. Because I cannot get a job, I cannot get the things I need to "succeed in my endeavors." I have no money, and it's really annoying.

4. I can't live harmoniously with my parents anymore. I just can't. They don't listen, they don't notice anything.

5. I really miss school. I miss architecture so much. I miss doing things with my hands and taking all the things that I'm good at and putting them together to make something. I don't miss my college, just the state of mind that I'm in while I'm there. I'm in constant creative, taking care of myself mode, and that's really good for me. Whereas when I'm home, I'm idle, and if I don't do anything, I feel like I'm letting myself down. Going back to school should be really good for me.

Why is it that most of the world's problems (including ALL of my problems) can be solved by just paying attention to other people and communicating? HEY OLDER COUSIN, maybe if you paid attention, you'd know that my sister hurts herself. HEY MOTHER, maybe if you paid attention, you'd know the older cousin is in a deep depressive state.

Everyone has their own problems, but does that mean we should forget everyone else's issues as well?

Caution -- I'm Majorly Pissed Off

2010-06-26T03:46:00.000-04:00

I have noticed something about myself. It could quite possibly be a bad thing.

I dislike my family. Of course, I'll always love my family. But I realize that I cannot stand them. They lie to each other. Talk about each other. Try to tell you how to be. Define you. I don't understand. If blood is a bond, why must they act this way? They do a lot for us, family. They clothe us, feed us, bathe us. But I don't understand why I cannot truly be myself or be appreciated for being myself when sitting next to the people who are supposed to love me the most. [And I know thousands of other people feel the exact same way…]

I dislike my room. I think it's because none of it is mine. The furniture isn't mine, and I didn't get to pick it out. I moved all but a couple pieces of it out of my room. In a fury, I took everything from high school and put it out in the hallway over a month ago and haven't touched it since. I think it doesn't reflect me. But then I wonder, who am I?

I dislike my house. I dislike how it was built wrong. I don't like how things are a certain way and how I can't change it.

I say these things because I've noticed that when I don't like something, I simply ignore it. My environment in college was very controlled. I didn't allow anyone with bad vibes in, I didn't allow men in, I didn't allow drugs or alcohol in, I didn't allow anyone who could hurt me emotionally in. I'm very synchronized with my surroundings emotionally. I was very unattached to everything in college, because I realize I can get myself caught up in other people's emotions. I did this for my health. A specialist I had at some point noticed this, I think. He tried to give me medication to calm me down. I decided to calm myself down. And if an emotion isn't happy, I don't let it in- I ignore it. I allow myself to cry when I feel like it. Just because I know that if I don't control it all, I'll get hurt.

Moving on.

So I think I'm ignoring my family, my room, and my house. I have strong emotional ties to all three. My family is who raised me. My room is my comfort, and my home is where I live. Of course I have strong ties to those things. I'm ignoring them. All three. My room is a literal mess. I hate the mess. My house is just awful, but it's too big to fix; it's not my house to fix. My family keeps doing things for me and getting into situations where I should react. I don't do a thing about any of it. I just can't. The overwhelming force of it [and other things] just lands me in bed, sleeping fitfully with bad dreams and waking up in a cold sweat.

My mother is pissed at me. Okay. Nice. But I don't understand why she calls me selfish and ungrateful. Maybe I'm a lazy conceited bitch, but I'm not selfish and ungrateful. I know it seems like I care more about my TV shows or my Internet than my surroundings. My surroundings hurt too badly. I don't like the vibes of you lying and hurting people. I can shut the TV or the computer off; I can't shut off family.

I'll try to be better. All I am able to do is try. I'll start with my room and work outward. Internal to external. Heal myself before I help others.

However. Don't play like it's all okay, mother. Don't pretend like it's all alright, father. You want me to believe in my family, to honor my family? Why honor people who don't care to honor me with anything other than materials? Why honor someone who won't come to see me graduate or congratulate me on my achievements? You expect me to excel. I expect you to support me in anything. You expect me to honor you? I expect you to respect me. You expect me to free my mind? I expect you to free my soul. You expect me to be a young woman full of promise and open-mindedness. I expect you not to condemn people for their looks or their beliefs. You want me to feel empowered? Stop forcing me to feel so helpless. You expect me to know how to speak; I expect you to not tell me to shut my mouth. You want me to listen? I expect you to look me in the eye when I'm talking to you. You want me to help you? I expect you to brush the dust off my hair when I fall in the sand.

Another note but in the same rant: You want my sister to stop cutting herself? Stop making her feel like she's nothing. You want my sister to stop acting the way she does? Teach her how to be herself.

I wish and pray to God that someday I'll be able to take the fervor with which I wrote this and direct it toward writing something decent. Or at least direct it towards something other than an empty word document and a goddamn keyboard.

It hurts, you know. To know that the same people who're supposed to love you above all else, who are supposed to lift you up to the very stars you're trying to reach, who are supposed to be waiting to catch you if you fall… to know that they've taken the floor from under you before you could even know comprehend the meaning of the word "walk," let alone do it.

But you don't need a floor to fly, do you?

^^^^^

My goal tomorrow is to not leave my room (save for food, water, bathroom). Contemplate my predicament. See if I can figure myself out. See if I can fix this madness.

I feel better getting that out on paper. Good night.

2010-05-25T19:41:00.000-04:00

I sat down last night to write after I finished my physics homework [I don't like the word "homework."] because I wrote about a page or so after my class yesterday. I typed up what I'd written on my little notebook paper page, and then BAM. I started having second thoughts. Let's just say that my second thoughts were such that I started breathing funny, feeling itchy all over, and very uncomfortable. I started reading all of my stuff, and it all felt like complete and utter shit.

So. I went to bed [it was almost 6:30 am]. But I couldn't shake the feeling like I'd lost something. Like the ability to come up with new ideas or at least put those ideas to paper. I realized that's why I've been feeling depressed. I feel like I'm losing what makes me happy. I want to say, "Fuck that, I do what I want!" and to start typing like a maniac, but it's not working. I'm sorry to say that if I do not write [or at least make up stories] I'll literally waste away.

Moving on. I'm thinking and thinking while waiting for sleep to overtake me, and I just felt like my stories [I have 3 that I'm working on at once. I do not know why I have 3. I just do.] were wrong. And I questioned the reason why I have infinite ideas for buildings [I seriously sit in design class and am able to do ANYTHING] but not ideas for stories. I decided it's harder for me to think up stories because writing is just closer to my heart than building. I think I'm afraid of betraying or letting myself down through writing. And if I do that, then I'll hurt myself more than failing with building. Once I realized that, I felt completely nauseous and lost and scared. And then my dreams were riddled with odd things.

I don't know. I don't think I'm making sense.

I feel like I'm a depressing person inside my head. I know I think too much, and this thinking will be my undoing {I feel like I said this last post}. But I can't help but think about these things.

Also, I have a wicked-ass idea for my novel-story-fiction items. It involves the internet, and I have only told like 3 family members. But I don't know how I'd start it.

----
On the upside, I like oranges. And iced tea.

I am changing the layout of my room. All of this random shit from grade school is going into the basement. I realized that because I've entered a new stage of my life [college], things from before them just seem irrelevant. Like I should throw them away.

Oh, also, I have my physics class every Monday and Wednesday from 10:10 to 12:20 for lecture, and then from 1:something to 3:something for lab. My Mondays and Wednesdays are SHOT. Boo.

written on 5.16.2010; uploaded & revised now

2010-05-23T01:42:00.000-04:00

Random Thoughts of the Day
I was never joking when I said that I wanted to be a writer. I don't understand why I never get acknowledgment for that wish. For the fact that I'm still working on it. I do not care that my cousin (who is currently living with us) has her master's degree in creative writing. However, I do care when my own mother refers to my writing as a "stint" that I was "joking" about. I did not want to go to college for it because I didn't want anyone telling me how to write. And I didn't want to become a cookie cutter writer. Thanks people, thanks for expecting me to make you a building but not a book. You build me up just to tear me down again.

Some things that I'm doing this summer…

1. T.V. on the Internet

Real Housewives of New Jersey
~~Fringe~~ [I just finished watching the season finale. This is an amazing show.]
Stargate Universe [Until the season ends.]
White Collar [When the next season begins in June.]
Happy Town [Every summer, my sister and I adopt a show to watch. Last year it was Harper's Island. This year it's Happy Town. ]
Gossip Girl [Until I finish watching season 3, then I'll be done. ]
FlashForward [One more episode in the entire series... It was cancelled. Good show, though.]

2. The Internet

LiveJournal (ONTD, ONTD_Political, etc.)
Glamour.com
Playing games
Reading nonsensical blogs
Blogger
Reading my eBooks from Barnes and Noble

3. Writing

Fanfiction (Harry Potter!)
Personal Fiction

4. Physics Class

5. Cleaning My Room (it's full of things from grade school that I do not need anymore)

6. Movies & Books (I have a long list of movies I want to see. I have over 30 books on my shelf that I've not read yet.)

I've also decided that I'm going to focus on internal things. Namely, my health. My health hasn't been good as of late, and right now my head aches.My health, and my feelings about my body. And how to fix my hair.

So really, I only want those things to matter to me during this summer. I'm tired of feeling unfulfilled at the end of the day.

^^^^^^

Today [5.23.2010]

So yes. I'm still feeling unfulfilled and entirely inadequate. I don't know what to do with myself. But I know I need to start working out again because I feel better when I do. I've been depressed lately, thinking of existential things that shouldn't matter right now, but I think about things too much. I'm mostly scared to go to sleep because I know my mind will drift to those thoughts. That's why I don't sleep until 6am. Because I'm scared of my own mind. I'm literally scared of my own thoughts. The only thing that comforts me is that I know that everyone else in the world will face the same things too, that I'm not alone.

I'm scared to think or feel any emotion right now. This is not a good feeling. I've confirmed that my worst enemy is myself.

I think I should stop this post and read funny things so that I won't feel so bad.

Odd Thought

2010-05-03T23:16:00.000-04:00

Just a strange thought that crossed my mind today. The only person (outside of my family) that has ever kissed me was my hairdresser. And she kissed me on my forehead. Last week. How inexperienced am I? Sheesh. Just a thought.

Random Things I've Been Thinking About

2010-05-03T01:59:00.000-04:00

1.) I really love nature. I dunno, I just love all nature. All types. [My least favorite is snowy places, but I can endure those.] I love trees. I love grass. I love sleeping out in the sun.

2.) I have a personal space problem. I'm an extremely affectionate person with my family, hugging them and kissing them. But around friends, I can't do it. I think it's just that society likes their space. And I can't tell when it's appropriate to be affectionate either. I also think that sometimes I come off as unable to be compassionate, which isn't true.

3.) I'm going to write a series of vignettes about my [old] dorm apartment roommates. Their stories are individually so strange, so sad, so fiery. I feel compelled to write it down at some point. It would do them a great injustice not to. Truth is stranger than fiction. {"Who're you tellin'?" Yeah, thanks.}

4.) My freshman year at an HBCU made me a … hm… "more assertive" person. I think it's because I've really decided that I don't care if I hurt someone's feelings as long as I tell them the truth. I've actually told people that they're whores. [I'm a straight up G, fool. XD]

5.) I am in love with the idea of fashioning something for someone else that impacts his or her life. Hence writing and architecture.

6.) I have three "selves": the person I am in my head, the person that I project to others, and the person I really am. The person in my head looks a bit different than the person I really am, the person I project to others is a lot more practical and put-together than I really am, and the person I really am is... well, someone I keep close to my heart.

7.) I can't tell you what I learned in my first year of design studio, but I do know that I can go into an art supply store and tell you what it's all for and I know how to use 75% of what's in there. O_o random knowledge.

8.) My home life scares me a bit. I feel like we're walking a tightrope, my parents, my sister, and I. On April Fools' Day, it pretty much all fell apart, and we're still picking up the pieces.

9.) It's really hard for me to blog regularly. I have no clue why. It's also hard for me to write regularly. Or sleep or eat or watch TV regularly, actually. Oh, my life.

i'm Mina-Mina, the one and only baddest female.

2009-09-01T11:47:00.000-04:00

Here in Tallahassee, Florida, every single day is either rainy, humid as heck, or unbearably hot. There hasn't been a day where it was just normal. Everyday I check the weather channel before I head out and before I go to bed. The weather around here changes instantaneously, and most people always carry umbrellas or wear rainboots. The weather here causes me to always wear my hair in a bun or ponytail. My clothes are usually soaked with sweat by the time I get back to my dorm. The weather here is so strange. And one can always smell saltwater in the air (like a sort of briny, brackish smell), especially when the wind blows from the south.

Dorm living, or should I say, apartment dorm living is no problem for me. I have to share a bathroom, which I do not mind. My dorm is one of the nicest in the school, so I don't mind my bedroom either. And with a kitchen and living room, I have nothing to complain about. However, if I had a complaint, it would only be one. It's way too cold in the dorm, even when the thermostat is turned to 75 degrees. That's the only thing. So I'm always in a hoodie when in the dorm.

The cafeteria food is great. I can eat almost anything I want, and I've mostly been eating a high protein, high vegetable diet. Although, that endless pizza bar gets to me always. Once I had pizza five days in a row, haha. But it's all good. I can order a sandwich from the deli, or eat from the salad bar (couscous burgers! I saw them, but I haven't had any yet.), or eat from the grill or the "homestyle" cooking they have. I'm so so happy about the food choices. I don't want to gain the freshman 15 (you know, that story that people gain 15 pounds in their freshman year), because if I do, none of my clothes will fit me. Ha.

The amount of walking I do to go everywhere is nice; I get to stay active. There are a bunch of hills and the buses are unreliable, so it pays to walk. Luckily, I never buy shoes that don't fit well. My feet weren't used to so much walking when I came, so my feet hurt like hell the first few days. I had to massage them and rub them down with aloe to keep down the swelling.

Our school is very very "black." Haha, it's an HBCU, but still. There are "Fried Chicken Wednesdays" and the line backs up for yards in the cafeteria. On the tables, there's hot sauce. Cayenne pepper hot sauce. Cayenne pepper is hot stuff, guys. No one messes around with their spicy food and chicken wings here. Nuh-uh. No one. Every misconception about black people can be found here, sadly. Hot sauce, fried chicken, loud bass music, shady men (my roommates call them "goons," and rightly so), grills, people with brand-name shoes and hats and clothes, etc. I don't mind; this place is a social experiment in itself.

Already I'm an odd person- the only friends I've made are just people in classes (i.e. Tia in Architecture), my roommates (DJ and Martine), and then people I've met because of Tia, DJ, and Martine. I don't mind being by myself at all. I've yet to find people that can turn into aMaZiNG friends like the ones in high school. Actually, I hope I can meet new people at the SWIC (Student Women in Construction) meeting that I'm going to tonight. I was invited over Facebook, and then I saw the flyers all over the School of Architecture building afterwards. Needless to say, making friends is hard. Ugh.

I love love listening to music while walking around campus (or doing anything on campus in general). It's like I'm having my own personal party. I have to be careful not to break out in dance sometimes. The only thing I can do is walk around with a silly smile on my face (see: G-Dragon's new album, Heartbreaker- most especially the song featuring TaeYang called "Korean Dream" & the song featuring CL and Teddy called "The Leaders"). I love music so much.

I've continued writing fanfiction, but I haven't done any true story writing yet. I'm either too tired, have homework, or I was sick. I should have more time though, because things are slowing down with the freshman orientation things and I'm not sick anymore. And my body is getting used to waking up early, and I'm feeling less tired as time goes on. I have been thinking about my stories and such. =D I'm also thinking about doing something for the school's creative writing publication, Cake. (I haven't looked it up yet though.)

Unfortunately, some people are trying to repress my happiness about architecture. But I will not allow myself to forget the happiness I experience when I create something from my own hands. I try not to let people take my ability to make myself happy away from me. Simply because if I cannot make myself proud and happy, how can anyone else? I'll lose a part of me if people try to repress what makes me joyful. I love building materials, I love the smell of sawdust, I love crafting out of cardboard, I love looking at arches, I love looking at buildings for inspiration. I love granite and concrete and tile. I love brick and stucco and glass. I love paint and wood and paper. And I love the fact that out of all of those things, I can create a masterpiece.

my bling bling is like LED. XD

2009-08-08T00:43:00.000-04:00

I'm going to college in exactly a week. (Okay, maybe eight days because we're leaving on the August 16th, but I say seven days until the Saturday that I can move into my dorm.)

My grandfather is flying down from Pennsylvania to drive down to Tallahassee with us so that he can see me off. My father has happily booked hotel rooms and has taken time off. My mother has also taken time off and is musing upon my departure. My sister, in her deathly downward spiral, is talking about how she will not miss me and how she's not going to miss school to see me off. (She's staying at home.)

My room right now is a complete and utter mess. I don't think my room has ever stayed this messy for as long as it has in a long time. I came back from visiting my family in PA and my bags aren't even unpacked from that yet. The suitcase is lying on the floor, open, still with my pillow and blanket inside. I have boxes everywhere in my room. Baskets of clothes are sitting everywhere. Some of the baskets have dirty clothes that I want washed to take to Florida A&M; some of the baskets have clean clothes that I haven't put away yet. I have five plastic bins in my room, labeled. One, the pink one, is labeled "linen." My washcloths, bedspread, and such are in that one. In the purple one I put my toiletries- I didn't realize how much goes in my bathroom until I started filling the bin. The turquoise bin is labeled "books." I have a lot. I didn't mean to. Only eight of them are leisure books, and the rest are either architectural books, linguistic books, or books that I've bought for English classes. And of course Harry Potter is in there. The final bin, the green one, has random things in it that I know I'm taking. My PlayStation2 is in it, along with games, cords, and DVDs. My novel notes are most likely going to go in there too. I can't decide whether or not I want to take my VCR. I'm not taking my T.V., I know. I'm taking the one that used to be in the basement, which is much sleeker and smaller. I have a giant, giant purple bin that could double as a bed, where I'm putting in all of my clothes. Right now, only my new clothes and skirts are in there. Clothes that I know I'm not wearing in the next week.

I've accomplished a lot, actually. I don't have very much packing left (with the exception of my clothes). I have a list of things that I need to buy, like a new purse (which my aunt is going to buy for me), organic cane sugar (because I know they won't have that in college), an insulated mug (because I love having hot tea in the morning before I go to school and at night before I go to bed), and rainboots (I love them). There's much more.

I don't know what it is, but… Today I was staring into space, thinking. I'd always thought that something would happen to me, like death, before I reached college. I don't know why. I could never envision myself beyond a certain point in my life, and now that I'm about to cross the threshold into a new place, I feel strange. I'm not scared- I don't ever think I've been truly and honestly afraid of something happening to me (body-wise). When I think of college, my stomach goes light and bubbly and I think of the unknown. I like the unknown, but it's quite perilous and scary. But I still cannot envision my future. I can't. My mind goes blank after dorm move-in day. I don't know if it's because the future is uncertain, because I honestly feel like I'm going to die, or because I don't know what college is like. I'm so confused.

I'm crazy and I know that. People who know me are used to me linking things in strange ways in my brain, saying things that don't make sense, and becoming ecstatic about everything. I'm a generally sunny person. But I know that I can come off as a bit odd to people who do not know me. I think that's a factor in my uncertainty with the future.

I yearn for togetherness. Togetherness makes me feel so warm and happy inside. I'm currently infatuated with two Korean groups (2NE1 & BigBang), and because they're from the same label and they've grown up together, they're just like family. I wish I could find that too. Just some level of togetherness. I really like being around people.

Lately, one part of my personality has been bothering me. Why is it that other girls are so apt to buy makeup and dress up and put a lot of effort into clothes and act in a certain way, and that I find it extremely hard to do that? I can't do that at all. Yes, I like clothes and I care about the way I look, but I don't pay that much attention to it. I'm so confused. Some days I'm like "omg, I'm a girl!!!111 I could do blah blah." But then I get bored being frivolous and move on to something better, like Diablo II.

Anyway, these are my thoughts today.

odd things.

2009-06-23T17:36:00.001-04:00

Okay. So, I recently graduated. Yay, me.

A friend of the family videotaped the graduation and the party. He talked to everyone (he called it "words of wisdom for you, Yaminah") and got them all on tape. Okay, well, problem is that in every single scene I'm in, I'm chewing effing gum. Yes, you heard me. I'm chewing goddamn gum like an effing cow. Not that up-and-down chewing with your mandible. No. I'm grinding this gum in a circular motion, like it's a piece of cud, like I'm an effing cow or goat.
Normally, I hate gum. But lately, I've been chewing gum while idle (i.e. typing late at night, playing videogames, watching T.V.). I usually don't chew gum in a public place. Only in my house or a friend's house or when I'm in Wal*Mart and I don't care what I look like.
I've made a mental note to never, ever chew gum while around people ever again. And if that's not enough, the camera added weight to my body/face, so I really do LOOK LIKE A COW.
If I'm not satisfied with how I look, then I don't want others seeing me. That's just how I am. I brush my hair, brush my teeth, wash my face, and change into houseclothes before anyone in my house sees me (when I wake up in the morning). Not many people have seen me in what I wear to bed. Just saying.

Another thing, I recieved "monetary gifts" during that party. Let me just say right now that I didn't realize how much random things are until I had enough money to buy it. This money, I have to make it last all summer, and I think I've spent about $200 on food, new earphones & a mouse, and some new clothes for college (maybe 10 things). The most expensive thing I bought was the new mouse, which was $25 ish. Now, see, when I go to the store, the maximum I spend in any place is ten dollars. .... It's really adding up, my friends. And now I've budgeted myself. I don't think I'll be seeing Transformers 2 tonight at the midnight premiere. (I saw Terminator at the midnight premiere on May 20, which was my last day of school {best last day of school EVER. parties, card games, restaurant and movie with friends. I've never felt that grown up in my life.}, but I only did that because someone paid for me and I baked a cake to repay them. Hahahaha.)
I have money problems. But only because I don't realize how much I spend. I sound like one of those debt-solution-Oprah-sob-stories waiting to happen. Oi.

--
One thing about college worries me. It's not my dorm, it's not the food, it's not the people, it's not my classes. At home, I can yell and scream at the top of my lungs when I'm frustrated, scared, full of squee, etc., but in college, I won't be able to do that without people thinking I'm crazy. So either I'm going to turn into a crazy, eccentric, I-honestly-don't-care loner, or I'm going to turn into a secretly crazy, eccentric, I-honestly-don't care girl. I don't know which I prefer. Because on one hand, I really don't care {anymore}. And on the other hand, I have no clue what I want.

--
My sister is crazy. She walks around in too-small clothes that are very, very showy when she's around the house. She... Let's just say she's weird.

--
Um. I am currently obsessed with CSI. Yes, the Las Vegas one that everyone seems to have forgotten about. No, I do not want CSI: Miami. Yes, Danny Messer from CSI: New York is the shit, but I want my CSI. Thank you, Spike TV, for being the only network that shows reruns everyday for at least 5 hours straight. You are feeding unhealthy drugs to a psychotic girl.

this is mine.

2009-03-11T22:42:00.000-04:00

I have this issue of mine, where I don't like to worry people. Or, I should say, worry my parents. It's because I see that they work hard to give me things, so I don't ask for many things. I give up not having those clothes so that they can buy things for the house.

For example, I have health issues I don't like to tell anyone. In the past five months, I've had extensive blood work, ultrasounds, and CT scans. I've been missing school as well. I've had tests because I am constantly in pain. Constantly. Period? I'm drugged, and my sides are still splitting open and I am on the verge of throwing my guts on the floor. I leave every class period to walk the halls so I won't throw up in class. My ultrasounds have showed that there is something on my left ovary. But they won't tell us what it is. Migraines? I've had the same headache since January. It'll stop for a day or two, then it returns. My ultra-super-special pain medication only takes the edge off. I close my eyes all the time; it looks like I'm sleeping, but it's really just too bright or too loud. Once, I found myself in my house on my couch after school, and I couldn't remember how I got there. Things started shaking and spinning, and I stayed very still in order to not throw up/make the thing worse. My doctor is trying to pass it off as a "serious sinus infection" that I've had for a while. My doctor bills have become expensive. I'd rather keep the pain than have you alleviate it with your money that you need to pay for the mortgage.

Another example. I'd really like to go to prom. For the experience of just being there. But I knew it was expensive, so I refrained from asking my mother. She got angry with me when she discovered that I wanted to go; she said I had to "take initiative" to get what I want. But what I want is expensive. And I don't want you to skip out on eating dinners and buying tile for the bathroom for my want to go to the prom. I don't want to see you secretly pouring over bills while crying about the economy and then just curling up in your bed to sleep in order to get away. That's why I didn't ask. Well, she asked me to calculate all of the expenses I'd need for the next two months, including prom. This comes to be almost five hundred dollars. She sighed and said she'd pay it. Then she asked my dad for permission for me to go- they're arguing about it at the moment. My father's talking about American culture and boys and the stupidity of it all. And I'm crying here because I know that I'm asking for too much and I should just study for AP Exams and think about college and write off going to prom. But I am so very afraid of missed chances and looking back on things and deciding that I regret what I did or did not do.

So right now I am just aching. I haven't had a full eight hours of sleep in one stretch since this semester started. My head hurts, my knees are aching because I need new sneakers to run in (another thing I need money for), my hair needs to be washed, my parents are arguing, I need to go work out and run my mile because if I don't my other joint issues will come back (because I'm clinically depressed, don't you know, and the endorphins from working out counteract that), I'm tired as hell, I have another half of a Calculus test tomorrow, my room is a mess, my college applications are on hold because I don't have the money to send with it, I need to fill out that goddamned FAFSA, I need to do French Club shit that no one but me will do even though they complain that "not enough is being done," I have clothes to fold and put away, my sister is sick, my father is tired, my mother is waiting for her course grades to be posted, and I'm sitting here just typing this.

I walked home from the bus stop today in the warm, shining sun and the calm breeze, and I looked around me and almost cried because I was just so happy to be alive.

I'm sorry for ranting. I just wanted to put that down to paper.
Why is it that no one knows how to hug anyone anymore? Hugs used to feel wholesome, now they just feel empty. People are too goddamned conscious of personal space, that's it. They're afraid, I think, that if they hug someone, they just might feel something. They want to sit in their fake emotions that they've made by not being with people. They sit around and sling their "I love you" words like they're nothing. Well, I'm not that shallow. Yes, I'm going to have to pretend that everything's alright and that I don't have 32497938 problems to solve tomorrow, but at least I'll know the truth and not deny it to myself. I wish I didn't care and that appearances meant nothing to me.
Speaking of which, I guess that's why I like Rorschach from Watchmen so much.

Resolution: If someone asks me how I'm doing tomorrow, I'm going to say, "pretty crappy, how about you?"

Resolution: If someone asks me one more time what I want to do with my life, I'm going to tell them, "I want to dabble in the sublime."

Para bailar la bamba, se necesita una poca de gracia...

2009-02-15T03:35:00.000-05:00

I watched Dirty Dancing a few hours ago. I do love that movie. It's… Amusing? No, that's not the word. It's special. Yay for Patrick Swayze.

I was flipping through random blogs while drinking tea, and I suddenly came upon a picture of one of the people in my OT3. I read it, and the blogger said that she wanted to have "passionate angry sex with him." I snorted, and tea went everywhere, and I almost choked and died. I heard that's what we call a "spittake," only different. Well, anyway, I think the lesson is to not look at something that makes you squee while you're drinking hot liquid.

I saw the 1980s version of The Blob last weekend. Now, I don't know if anyone knows this, but I love 80s movies. They're special. And in this movie, a child got killed. Have you ever seen a scary movie where a child died? Before that, I hadn't. And it's funny to watch movies like this with my father and sister. (Sister: *says at random times* I will cut you.) Good times, good times.

I have too much candy left over from Valentine's Day. It's so awful. My teeth are going to rot out of my head. But it's so good. *sticks lollipop in mouth*

Uhm, the History Channel and Discovery Channel have these two shows, Cities of the Underworldand Man vs. Wild (respectively). I don't know, I think I have a thing for dudes going around in the wilderness doing crazy-dumb things in a rather intelligent fashion, but those are my two new shows that I'm obsessed with. I watched- oh, I don't know, five, six hours of it today?

I had an economics project due on Friday at 4 in the afternoon. And let's just say that it's not finished. And I worked with a partner who didn't do her fair share. I've never met a person my age until now who couldn't multiply twenty by one-point-seven (even with a TI-83 in her hands). But the thing is, the night after I turned it in, I went to bed and freaking dreamed about it. I woke up in a frenzy going, "Add the fixed expenses to the flexible, subtract from net income, and carry the remaining cash to the next day!" I had to calm myself down and tell myself that it was over, that I'd turned it in. I'm still seeing that Excel spreadsheet when I close my eyes, dammit.

I'm going to stab school. Stabbity stab stab. Because of it, I've had no more than four hours of sleep every night. My eye muscles are beginning to spasm from lack of sleep. MY BODY IS GOING TO DIE.

Speaking of my body, I'm monitoring it quite closely. I'm rather scared, actually. Not going to elaborate right now, but I'm very frightened.

Infinity

2009-01-18T00:31:00.000-05:00

Someone once asked me, "If you could be earth, wind, fire, or water, which would you be and why?" I instantly replied with water. Because it cuts through earth, douses fire, and can adjust to wind. It's always there, changes, but it's quite eternal. Different speeds for the course. Abundant, necessary. *shrug* I suppose that's why I'm a Pisces, the Fish. Or not.

I like those totally cliché girly movies. With the cliché guy and cliché lesson that the girl learns at the end. Where, somehow, she's a perfectly pretty, likeable person and she's not noticed for anything at all. But I like those movies because they're cute. I have to be in the mood for them though.

Sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong time and/or place. Like when I go to the store to buy clothes in the junior section. Everything either doesn't fit me or it's way too revealing. I hate dealing with my hair. I'd much rather put it up in a very beautiful cloth scarf in an intricate fold. And I hate the shoes they have now. I like either flat ones or boots or sandals. Because they make sense. Of course I like decorative ones, but it's just odd. I don't want to wear those high-as-one-of-my-fingers, the-base-is-so-pointy-it'll-put-your-eye-out stilettos because they're cute. And people say they give you better posture. Psh- learn good posture and you won't have awful feet later in life. Moving on. But clothes make me feel like I was put into the wrong time. I wish things fit me. I'm short and I don't want lowrise jeans. I have to steal my little sister's jeans.

Has anyone noticed that commercial where the mother is outside playing in the snow with her child? They've made a snowman, and the daughter says, "Mommy, you two are twins!" (The mother's wearing a white coat and red accessories like the snowman.) And then the mother's like "oh my goodness," and rushes to go diet. Because apparently snowmen are fat.
That commercial is a commercial I dislike. It seems like the woman was a size eight or something (which is a perfectly wonderful size), and she's got this dieting fiend. And she reaches for dumb diet foods like "protein water" and "100 calorie bars." (Yeah, like those are healthy and not loaded with high fructose corn syrup and hydrogenated oils and aspartame.) I don't mind the dumb foods, it's the fact that she's caught up in the diet craze. She's not dieting to be healthier, she wants to lose weight. She was perfectly fine. Is society secretly encouraging eating disorders in all people by doing this? (Okay, I know that they are, and I have known for a while, but I'm making a point.) I feel no desire to lose weight, because if I do, my bones will pop out. And they do this for beauty (beauty is a subject I will not speak about). Beauty essentially is about "finding a mate," right? It's weird to me. Not the beauty thing, though. It's dieting for the sake of dieting. I'm all for watching what you eat, but for your health, not so you can fit into that little black dress you bought yesterday even though you knew you couldn't wear it yet. Oh well. That's why there're people with eating disorders.

I really, really dislike school. I feel listless and like I'm wasting my time. I wish people would teach me something that I couldn't find out on my own. This is why some of the classes I have are dumb. I feel like I could be doing something better with my life rather than scrambling to satisfy someone else's criteria and to make others like me.

I got my letter in the mail today. The letter with the contract in it that says I'll accept Florida A&M's scholarship and do what it says. I realize that the scholarship doesn't cover all of the things. And I have decided that I'm going to ask if I qualify for the next scholarship up. Because I'm not paying for room and board.

I wish I weren't so lazy. Gah.

Bonjour

2009-01-11T17:12:00.000-05:00

So, this is my first post. I'm going to copy someone else's idea so that I can give a nice outline of myself. Alphabet time!

A: Architect. I want to go to school to be an architect. Building things is one of my passions.
B: Beach. I really love the beach, but I'm afraid of water and I do not like sand.
C: Calm. I'm a calm person. Meaning I don't get angry easily. Just irritated.
D: Daydreaming and Distracted. Yeah. That's me. I've got my own little world. I find myself talking to no one at all. I really have to watch that. It might be a symptom of crazy.
E: Exercise. I've recently started exercising because I need something to tire me out. I don't sleep well. I'm also doing it for my health.
F: Films. Movies and I are like bees and honey. We'll always be associated with each other.
G: Green. My favorite color. After that it's yellow and orange.
H: Health. I like to be healthy, because it's pretty disgusting what they put in food nowadays. I'm to the point where I'll get sick if I consume things I don't normally eat.
I: Intent. Some people pass judgment on certain acts that people do. But I've found within the past year and a half that I don't judge what people do unless I know their intent. I might not cross that line, but I can understand why they did it.
J: Juxtaposition. I love that word. It's a great word.
K: Kaleidoscopes. I love them! They're so fun and colorful and whoosh.
L: Linguist. I'd love to become a linguist sometime in my life. I've got a strange knack for figuring out languages. Right now, I'm studying French and Spanish. And if I try, I could understand Italian or Portuguese when I'm reading it.
M: Music. I adore music. I could listen to anything at all.
N: Nature. I love to hike and be around nature. Sometimes I feel more comfortable sleeping in a tree than I do in a bed. It's strange.
O: Odd. I'm an odd person.
P: Plants. I really like plants. They're green and they grow and they're beautiful.
Q: Quirky. I have quirky habits.
R: Recollect. I have a problem with recollecting things. I can be forgetful, but I always remember at the nick of time. But lately I've been forgetting words and what I'm talking about right in the middle of a sentence. And also, I can remember things wrong because I've got a really vivid imagination.
S: Sun. I love the sun. I love warmth. I could spend forever dancing in the sun.
T: Travertine. I like that type of tile. It's nice.
U: Uranoscopy (meaning star-watching). I like studying celestial bodies and such. They're nice. I also like clouds.
V: Voice. I have an insane ability to duplicate almost every voice I hear. So I have accents.
W: Writing. Above all, I love and need to write. I will be a published writer. Nothing can deter me from that.
X: Xenodochial (meaning hospitable, kindly to strangers). I like putting on parties and hosting things.
Y: Yeasty (meaning energetic, not pertaining to yeast). I have energy. I love running around doing crazy things.
Z: Zodiac. In the Zodiac, I am a Pisces. Yay, Pisces!

Yay. That was fun. More later.