You know the girl. She walks down the halls, and he sees her in slow motion. At lunch they sit in opposite social spheres, yet from afar, he memorizes the contours of her face. She is his first thought each morning, and last thought each night; he worships her from afar.
The most common knowledge I can think of would have to be Spiderman. Mary Jane Watson is the quintessential girl-next-door. She is popular, gorgeous, sweet, and a damsel in distress. Peter Parker has always loved her and then one day, they end up together.
You see it all from Parker's perspective; you see how much he loves and cares for her.
But what about Mary Jane? Did she grow up caring for Peter just as he did her? Did she know he was in love with her? Was she falling too? What made her fall for him? Was it the way she felt safe around him? His awkwardly adorable attempts at conversation? Or simply the fact that he cared for her so much?
But no one tells you that. No one tells you how to deal with being Mary Jane. Only the "Peter Parker" role is ever portrayed; comic after comic, over and over again.
Stan Lee never wrote Mary Jane's story. What does that say about her? Why was she not important enough for personal account? Just because she had no radioactive spider-induced super powers, does that make her any less of a worthy person? Does it make her dreams, her desires, her accomplishments, her struggles, any less real or important?
You see I always wanted to be that girl: the Mary Jane, the Lois Lane; the one who was so adored by the super hero, that she herself seemed super in his eyes. They are the princesses of the modern age, pretty, perfect, often distressed, and adored by their knight in shinning spandex.
But what if, Mary Jane had no romantic interest in Peter Parker, what then? How could she have spared him? What if Lois Lane had already found her Superman before Clark entered the picture? What if she was already so in love that she never even considered Clark as a possibility, leaving his feelings unrequited? What then?
In the world of Marvel, the lives and thoughts of these women seems to have been lost behind the art-deco skylines and pop art pages.
I really wish I could know what they'd been thinking. I mean, what about Mary Jane? Why was more of her story not told? I really wish that someone, anyone, would write it.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Unrequited (I am, I see, I hear...)
-I am waiting for someone to come along and see what I see, to notice me, to care.
-I see the reflection of a girl who has lived her whole life feeling alone and unwanted.
-I hear the happiness of others, like shards of broken glass in my feet, they brag about their boyfriends and their happy little lives, unconcerned with anyone but themselves.
-I feel I might explode; I need to shout from roof-tops, to make them see me, to make them understand, to make them stop before it's too late.
-I want to go back to the beginning; to erase the memories of boys who didn't, don't, and never will care and skip to the one who does, the one I know could never not care about me, the one who doesn't know how much I love him.
-I need the approval of men, because I never got it from the one who matters; and because of him, I am here. I need to tell them, all of them; everyone in my life, I need to speak my peace so that I can stop living a lie.
-I am a victim of love unrequited in every aspect of life; trapped by it, my soul is in chains. I long to be set free, but I fear for the cost; to what extent will I go for my freedom.
-I see the reflection of a girl who has lived her whole life feeling alone and unwanted.
-I hear the happiness of others, like shards of broken glass in my feet, they brag about their boyfriends and their happy little lives, unconcerned with anyone but themselves.
-I feel I might explode; I need to shout from roof-tops, to make them see me, to make them understand, to make them stop before it's too late.
-I want to go back to the beginning; to erase the memories of boys who didn't, don't, and never will care and skip to the one who does, the one I know could never not care about me, the one who doesn't know how much I love him.
-I need the approval of men, because I never got it from the one who matters; and because of him, I am here. I need to tell them, all of them; everyone in my life, I need to speak my peace so that I can stop living a lie.
-I am a victim of love unrequited in every aspect of life; trapped by it, my soul is in chains. I long to be set free, but I fear for the cost; to what extent will I go for my freedom.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Conformity
I have been rather self conscious as of late, and one way or another I got to thinking about it today. It really bothers me. I have prided myself very much throughout my life on my ability to not care what others thinking of me, but now, it feels like I'm loosing that, loosing myself.
It's all about rejection. I've grown up in a wonderland, but the price I paid for my nice clothes and sanctuary is, in pertinence to this particular note, a whole lot of rejection. I have, since I was about six, been told on a daily basis, how fat and stupid and ugly and unwanted and unlovable and blah-da-blah-da-blah I am. After a while, no matter how much you block it out, how much you try to fight it, try to ignore it, a decade of daily degrading from the one who gave you life begins take a toll on anyone's self esteem. I have always been proud, and been able to tell myself that if I can survive it from my mom, I can survive it from anyone. But with my depression as of late, I find it hard to look in the mirror and not be reminded of those harsh words; not be constantly thinking how out-of place I am in this world. And on top of it all you have boys, stupid, know-nothing, hypocritical boys to remind you, and the world, just how weird and out of place you are.
And I am. I, Katherine Elizabeth, am weird. I am a dork, and a nerd, and absolutely not popular. I do my best to be kind and thoughtful and friendly to everyone, but I learned about 7th grade that being nice does not a popular girl make. The popular girls seem to just be born out of sugar and spice and everything nice, and the rest of us plain old chemical X. No matter how hard I try to be pretty or perfect or wanted, I will never be popular.
And yet, here I am. I find myself conforming nonetheless. Watching what I say to make sure I'm not too weird, conforming to the opinions of the group, following the herd, and worst of all worrying about who might see me hanging out with people whom I consider my friends because they aren't cool.
I am actually worrying what other people think of me? Why? Why do I care what a bunch of pretentious party-girl stoners care about me? Not to be generalizing or degrading of these girls who seem nice enough, but why am I letting them define me. Why am I putting there opinions of me ahead of my own happiness?
I get it now. I understand the concept of peer pressure and girls who get so sad about rejection. In simple terms, when detached it seemed those girls were idiots. I didn't not understand people who cared what anyone thought of them. How could they sacrifice themselves and their scruples, because they were so concerned of others opinions? In unemotional terms it sounds so easy, but when your living it, it's different. I don't care who you are or what you claim, everyone on this Earth wants to be loved. We are a species of companionship; whether it be friends, family, or relationships we thrive on acceptance (which can be perceived as a predecessor to love). So as we become adolescents, and we realize the impermanence of our childhood families and looming dangers of the "real world" into which we are about to be thrust, it becomes apparent that we will need to seek love (and acceptance elsewhere). That's were peer pressure comes in, when the need to be accepted, almost for the sake of survival, becomes important.
They say that one must love themselves before they can love others. But what if you have reached the point at which you doubt whether or not you are worthy of love because you have been deprived of it for so long? Do you simply go on telling yourself you are lovable, or is that lying? Should you rather begin questioning yourself, and seeking acceptance of others as guidance towards love? Or in seeking the acceptance of others over your own opinions are you then sacrificing something of yourself, doing more harm than good?
How do I remain myself, without being lonely? Because, it seems, to have friends at school I have to be someone that I am not, denying my true personality until I have erased myself completely. And yet, if I am true to myself, it leads only to a life alone, decreasing confidence piece by piece until I would much rather be a speck a dirt than myself. I do not want to be just like everyone else, there is no glory in that; but how do I remain myself without sticking out like a turtle in a chicken coop? Where is the middle ground, the place to be yourself without being alone?
Or better yet, where is the place where I get to be the popular girl I always wanted to be and yet still myself; the place where I can be accepted for who I am no matter how weird or dorky? I would walk a thousand miles and click my heels together as many times as you want if someone could just point me there. <3
It's all about rejection. I've grown up in a wonderland, but the price I paid for my nice clothes and sanctuary is, in pertinence to this particular note, a whole lot of rejection. I have, since I was about six, been told on a daily basis, how fat and stupid and ugly and unwanted and unlovable and blah-da-blah-da-blah I am. After a while, no matter how much you block it out, how much you try to fight it, try to ignore it, a decade of daily degrading from the one who gave you life begins take a toll on anyone's self esteem. I have always been proud, and been able to tell myself that if I can survive it from my mom, I can survive it from anyone. But with my depression as of late, I find it hard to look in the mirror and not be reminded of those harsh words; not be constantly thinking how out-of place I am in this world. And on top of it all you have boys, stupid, know-nothing, hypocritical boys to remind you, and the world, just how weird and out of place you are.
And I am. I, Katherine Elizabeth, am weird. I am a dork, and a nerd, and absolutely not popular. I do my best to be kind and thoughtful and friendly to everyone, but I learned about 7th grade that being nice does not a popular girl make. The popular girls seem to just be born out of sugar and spice and everything nice, and the rest of us plain old chemical X. No matter how hard I try to be pretty or perfect or wanted, I will never be popular.
And yet, here I am. I find myself conforming nonetheless. Watching what I say to make sure I'm not too weird, conforming to the opinions of the group, following the herd, and worst of all worrying about who might see me hanging out with people whom I consider my friends because they aren't cool.
I am actually worrying what other people think of me? Why? Why do I care what a bunch of pretentious party-girl stoners care about me? Not to be generalizing or degrading of these girls who seem nice enough, but why am I letting them define me. Why am I putting there opinions of me ahead of my own happiness?
I get it now. I understand the concept of peer pressure and girls who get so sad about rejection. In simple terms, when detached it seemed those girls were idiots. I didn't not understand people who cared what anyone thought of them. How could they sacrifice themselves and their scruples, because they were so concerned of others opinions? In unemotional terms it sounds so easy, but when your living it, it's different. I don't care who you are or what you claim, everyone on this Earth wants to be loved. We are a species of companionship; whether it be friends, family, or relationships we thrive on acceptance (which can be perceived as a predecessor to love). So as we become adolescents, and we realize the impermanence of our childhood families and looming dangers of the "real world" into which we are about to be thrust, it becomes apparent that we will need to seek love (and acceptance elsewhere). That's were peer pressure comes in, when the need to be accepted, almost for the sake of survival, becomes important.
They say that one must love themselves before they can love others. But what if you have reached the point at which you doubt whether or not you are worthy of love because you have been deprived of it for so long? Do you simply go on telling yourself you are lovable, or is that lying? Should you rather begin questioning yourself, and seeking acceptance of others as guidance towards love? Or in seeking the acceptance of others over your own opinions are you then sacrificing something of yourself, doing more harm than good?
How do I remain myself, without being lonely? Because, it seems, to have friends at school I have to be someone that I am not, denying my true personality until I have erased myself completely. And yet, if I am true to myself, it leads only to a life alone, decreasing confidence piece by piece until I would much rather be a speck a dirt than myself. I do not want to be just like everyone else, there is no glory in that; but how do I remain myself without sticking out like a turtle in a chicken coop? Where is the middle ground, the place to be yourself without being alone?
Or better yet, where is the place where I get to be the popular girl I always wanted to be and yet still myself; the place where I can be accepted for who I am no matter how weird or dorky? I would walk a thousand miles and click my heels together as many times as you want if someone could just point me there. <3
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
MUSIC <3
I feel like writing a note for no apparent reason and I thought I'd try something a little different from my dank, dark, depressing norm, haha. I thought I write about something I love; I thought I'd write about music.
There are so many great quotes about music, but I think my favorite is "Music speaks the words I am too afraid to." I honestly don't think there is a single song on my iPod that does not remind me of someone (not a singular person but many someones; and by that I mean male and female friends and enemies...people). There are so many songs that I wish I had the courage to say. But you can't. You can't walk up to someone and say "Why can't you see, you belong with me?" or "Here's the thing, we started out friends; it was cool but it was all pretend." You can't do that. Not only would you sound like a retard, but the words lose there meaning; they need the music to back them up. And that's one of the many things I love about music and I love about singing: when you sing, you can say all the words you'll never get too and they can have all the meaning you intend them too. It's incredibly therapeutic to be able to just let go like that, to just "say what you need to say." (That's not to say that every time I sing a song that I'm singing it to someone, however; generalization get one no where when it comes to analyzing my mind. I am all about the specific situations.)
But music isn't just the words literal meaning; there's almost always more. You can almost always dig deeper. You can rock out to Fall Out Boy and listen to a rock and roll love song that has a double meaning about society and family and media and relationships. It's like poetry, and yet it isn't. It isn't just words on a page written by a writer and left to the interpretation of a reader. It's music and harmony and words swirled together in a symphony of magic.
I don't know that I can truly explain what music means to me. Maybe it's because it's what I know. I grew up listening to my dad's band practice, hearing my mom's old recordings, playing tambourine or singing on stage with the guys, memorizing song lyrics; it's like breathing to me, it's just natural, it's just who I am.
It isn't just past or present or lyrics or composition though, it's what music does in the here and now. If I'm sad, I turn on my iPod. Music can get me through anything. It's helped me survive, arguments, embarrassment, heart ache, auditions, bad moods, and everything in between. It helps me survive the bad days and it makes my good days all the better.
I don't know that this makes any sense. I kind of feel like nothing I say ever truly does. But what I can say is that music is my everything. I can tell you that if there were no music, I would honestly not be alive today. It has given me so much and I can't imagine life without it.
As long as I have my iPod and favorite headphones in my pocket, I know I can survive anything.<3
There are so many great quotes about music, but I think my favorite is "Music speaks the words I am too afraid to." I honestly don't think there is a single song on my iPod that does not remind me of someone (not a singular person but many someones; and by that I mean male and female friends and enemies...people). There are so many songs that I wish I had the courage to say. But you can't. You can't walk up to someone and say "Why can't you see, you belong with me?" or "Here's the thing, we started out friends; it was cool but it was all pretend." You can't do that. Not only would you sound like a retard, but the words lose there meaning; they need the music to back them up. And that's one of the many things I love about music and I love about singing: when you sing, you can say all the words you'll never get too and they can have all the meaning you intend them too. It's incredibly therapeutic to be able to just let go like that, to just "say what you need to say." (That's not to say that every time I sing a song that I'm singing it to someone, however; generalization get one no where when it comes to analyzing my mind. I am all about the specific situations.)
But music isn't just the words literal meaning; there's almost always more. You can almost always dig deeper. You can rock out to Fall Out Boy and listen to a rock and roll love song that has a double meaning about society and family and media and relationships. It's like poetry, and yet it isn't. It isn't just words on a page written by a writer and left to the interpretation of a reader. It's music and harmony and words swirled together in a symphony of magic.
I don't know that I can truly explain what music means to me. Maybe it's because it's what I know. I grew up listening to my dad's band practice, hearing my mom's old recordings, playing tambourine or singing on stage with the guys, memorizing song lyrics; it's like breathing to me, it's just natural, it's just who I am.
It isn't just past or present or lyrics or composition though, it's what music does in the here and now. If I'm sad, I turn on my iPod. Music can get me through anything. It's helped me survive, arguments, embarrassment, heart ache, auditions, bad moods, and everything in between. It helps me survive the bad days and it makes my good days all the better.
I don't know that this makes any sense. I kind of feel like nothing I say ever truly does. But what I can say is that music is my everything. I can tell you that if there were no music, I would honestly not be alive today. It has given me so much and I can't imagine life without it.
As long as I have my iPod and favorite headphones in my pocket, I know I can survive anything.<3
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
excerpts from JINX <3
The following are some of my favorite excerpts from an excellent novel I read today (written entirely in poetry) called JINX by Margaret Wild.
Enjoy =)
------
jinx
Do notget to know me.
Do not ask me out.
Do not love me.
Be warned.
I am Jinx.
------
black
I dream in black.
Never color.
Why is that?
------
god dreaming
I read somewhere
that all this-
the people, the animals,
the mountains, the rivers-
is just God dreaming.
I wish he's wake the fuck up.
------
mask
I shave slowly,
tansfixed
by my familar, smiling
mask.
I want to rip
it off,
but I fear
what lies beneath.
------
guess what?
Hi, man,
Guess what-
I've got a nose ring.
It only took my parents
a week to notice.
------
names
Jen thinks I'm gentle and kind.
She doesn't know
how I shake with rage,
how my head feels about to burst,
when people call me names
like Tiny and Shrimp.
----------
wonderful
It must be wonderfull
to fall asleep
in someone's arms.
------
holding
All I want
is to hold
my girl's hand
as we stroll
down the street.
-------
my heart sings
Whenever I see Hal,
he always says softly,
"Hello, you."
It sounds nothing special,
but it makes my heart sing.
------
glorious
It doesn't happen very often,
so it was glorious to be in love,
(even if bugger it was unrequited).
The exhilaration,
the feeling of euphoria and hope
was worth the pain.
------
Enjoy =)
------
jinx
Do notget to know me.
Do not ask me out.
Do not love me.
Be warned.
I am Jinx.
------
black
I dream in black.
Never color.
Why is that?
------
god dreaming
I read somewhere
that all this-
the people, the animals,
the mountains, the rivers-
is just God dreaming.
I wish he's wake the fuck up.
------
mask
I shave slowly,
tansfixed
by my familar, smiling
mask.
I want to rip
it off,
but I fear
what lies beneath.
------
guess what?
Hi, man,
Guess what-
I've got a nose ring.
It only took my parents
a week to notice.
------
names
Jen thinks I'm gentle and kind.
She doesn't know
how I shake with rage,
how my head feels about to burst,
when people call me names
like Tiny and Shrimp.
----------
wonderful
It must be wonderfull
to fall asleep
in someone's arms.
------
holding
All I want
is to hold
my girl's hand
as we stroll
down the street.
-------
my heart sings
Whenever I see Hal,
he always says softly,
"Hello, you."
It sounds nothing special,
but it makes my heart sing.
------
glorious
It doesn't happen very often,
so it was glorious to be in love,
(even if bugger it was unrequited).
The exhilaration,
the feeling of euphoria and hope
was worth the pain.
------
Sunday, February 1, 2009
25 Things
Rules: Once you've been tagged, you're supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.
^I've been tagged in this like a gagillion times but I don't remember everyone that tagged me, so I'm not tagging anyone; but I feel like doing it anyway so, heregoes.
These came out really random, and I apologize. I'm in a funky mood and half way through I had to hurry. But here-goes:
My 25
1. I like food....a lot....We're talking total fat kid status, haha. I can't cook for crap but I love food and love eating. I would eat constantly if I could haha.
2. I'm currently writing my first novel. I only have about four concise chapters right now, but I've got it all plotted and I feel really good about it. It's still early stages but I am going to finish it someday.
3. I don't define family in blood I define it in relationships-the people who are good to you and who you know will be there forever, those you trust completely. My family means the world to me. I wouldn't be here today without them.
4. I had a pretty fucked up childhood. I mean I'm not an AIDS orphan or anything, but I definitely didn't have a perfect little suburban lifestyle. I don't really talk about it because it's done and gone and I'm working hard on dealing with it as of present, but I do a lot of kind of weird things some times. A lot of times people don't understand me and usually my past is why.
5. I do my best to get along with everyone. Life is too short for enemies. So if I say I don't like someone, I have good reason.
6. I am weird. It's just a fact of life. Some times I wonder if I'm hardwired differently or something but I don't think like everyone else. It's both a blessing and a curse and is has left me alone a lot in my life.
7. I'm a really positive person. If I can improve one person's life in the course of my day, then I have done my job.
8. I have never been in a relationship. I kinda wanted to for a really long time, but I think I give up now. There's just too much else to worry about in life and it will happen when it happens.
9. I don't need others to define me. I am who I am, and if you don't like it I'll be hurt, but I'll understand. I don't need friends or family or a boy or anyone else to tell me how to be. I know that already. I know who I am and that's who I'll be, no matter what.
10. I am super straight edge. A lot of times people think it's naivety or me living in a bubble or something but it's a choice. And a lot of times people think they can't talk to me because I'll narc. I don't agree with it but I respect peoples choice; they have a right to control their own life.
11. I talk a lot. I can't really help it, it just sort of happens like word vomit. I do my best to control it and it's gotten better, but I still talk to much.
12. I spend way too much time on facebook. haha
13. My closest friends never seem to stick around very long. It's not like and oh-woahs-me sort of thing its just a fact. Two of my three best friends live at least 3 hours from me.
14. I am a goofball. I am naturally not funny but I will do anything in my power to make others laugh. And I laugh at myself a lot too.
15. I very strongly believe in the goodness of human kind. I don't understand those who are senselessly unkind to others.
16. Life is too short for drama. I always make sure I know what's going on so I don't accidentally cross enemy lines but as for me, I save the drama for the stage, haha.
17. I am not competitive... at all. I honestly just don't get it.
18. I really hate school. I mean ND is nice and all, but the whole concept of school feels like a prison; its a restriction on my soul.
19. I don't believe in organized religion, but I am very spiritual/philosophical.
20. I want to travel. Italy mostly. But I am going to get as far from here as possible. I am going to see the world.
21. I love music. It is the air that I breathe and I couldn't live without it.
22. I do way too much for my mother. Like right now I have to hurry and finish this to help her pick out furniture.
23. I love to sing and dance. I suck at it, but I love it. Something about singing is just plain fun, and when you dance (truly dance not that vulgar crap kids do these days) you can express yourself in such a liberating way.
24. I am a very simple person. I prefer jeans and sneakers and I don't need a lot to survive. Give me my iPod, a book, some chocolate, and some sunshine and I'm happy.
25. I see the beauty in things, in everything. I will stop whatever I'm doing, no matter how important to stop and admire a sunset. Life's just to short to never stop and smell the roses. <3
^I've been tagged in this like a gagillion times but I don't remember everyone that tagged me, so I'm not tagging anyone; but I feel like doing it anyway so, heregoes.
These came out really random, and I apologize. I'm in a funky mood and half way through I had to hurry. But here-goes:
My 25
1. I like food....a lot....We're talking total fat kid status, haha. I can't cook for crap but I love food and love eating. I would eat constantly if I could haha.
2. I'm currently writing my first novel. I only have about four concise chapters right now, but I've got it all plotted and I feel really good about it. It's still early stages but I am going to finish it someday.
3. I don't define family in blood I define it in relationships-the people who are good to you and who you know will be there forever, those you trust completely. My family means the world to me. I wouldn't be here today without them.
4. I had a pretty fucked up childhood. I mean I'm not an AIDS orphan or anything, but I definitely didn't have a perfect little suburban lifestyle. I don't really talk about it because it's done and gone and I'm working hard on dealing with it as of present, but I do a lot of kind of weird things some times. A lot of times people don't understand me and usually my past is why.
5. I do my best to get along with everyone. Life is too short for enemies. So if I say I don't like someone, I have good reason.
6. I am weird. It's just a fact of life. Some times I wonder if I'm hardwired differently or something but I don't think like everyone else. It's both a blessing and a curse and is has left me alone a lot in my life.
7. I'm a really positive person. If I can improve one person's life in the course of my day, then I have done my job.
8. I have never been in a relationship. I kinda wanted to for a really long time, but I think I give up now. There's just too much else to worry about in life and it will happen when it happens.
9. I don't need others to define me. I am who I am, and if you don't like it I'll be hurt, but I'll understand. I don't need friends or family or a boy or anyone else to tell me how to be. I know that already. I know who I am and that's who I'll be, no matter what.
10. I am super straight edge. A lot of times people think it's naivety or me living in a bubble or something but it's a choice. And a lot of times people think they can't talk to me because I'll narc. I don't agree with it but I respect peoples choice; they have a right to control their own life.
11. I talk a lot. I can't really help it, it just sort of happens like word vomit. I do my best to control it and it's gotten better, but I still talk to much.
12. I spend way too much time on facebook. haha
13. My closest friends never seem to stick around very long. It's not like and oh-woahs-me sort of thing its just a fact. Two of my three best friends live at least 3 hours from me.
14. I am a goofball. I am naturally not funny but I will do anything in my power to make others laugh. And I laugh at myself a lot too.
15. I very strongly believe in the goodness of human kind. I don't understand those who are senselessly unkind to others.
16. Life is too short for drama. I always make sure I know what's going on so I don't accidentally cross enemy lines but as for me, I save the drama for the stage, haha.
17. I am not competitive... at all. I honestly just don't get it.
18. I really hate school. I mean ND is nice and all, but the whole concept of school feels like a prison; its a restriction on my soul.
19. I don't believe in organized religion, but I am very spiritual/philosophical.
20. I want to travel. Italy mostly. But I am going to get as far from here as possible. I am going to see the world.
21. I love music. It is the air that I breathe and I couldn't live without it.
22. I do way too much for my mother. Like right now I have to hurry and finish this to help her pick out furniture.
23. I love to sing and dance. I suck at it, but I love it. Something about singing is just plain fun, and when you dance (truly dance not that vulgar crap kids do these days) you can express yourself in such a liberating way.
24. I am a very simple person. I prefer jeans and sneakers and I don't need a lot to survive. Give me my iPod, a book, some chocolate, and some sunshine and I'm happy.
25. I see the beauty in things, in everything. I will stop whatever I'm doing, no matter how important to stop and admire a sunset. Life's just to short to never stop and smell the roses. <3
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Treachery
My mother infuriates me to no end. That's basically all this is going to be: me venting about her; but it's basically my only outlet-it's this or kill her.
So if you didn't know this I have some serious trust issues. They were caused by my parents, primarily my mother, so trusting her is especially difficult.
Recently, I felt like we've made progress, like we've grown closer and actually formed a relationship; but I guess I was wrong. She was just using me for information the way my parents always do, just using me.
Lately she has been really suspicious and won't let me do anything if there's boys there (massive boy induced paranoia pretty much) and just now I figured out why: she's been reading my journal.
No, I do not have some flowery bullshit diary were I write my feelings and the days events; I have a journal, a tool to express ones' self creatively, a place where I store my thoughts, ideas, pro-con lists, and life goals...but more importantly the place where I keep the songs and poetry I have written.
You probably didn't no I write songs or poetry; that's exactly how personal it is. I have only ever shown my journal to three people beside myself and even then only select pages. My journal is mine and it's private, it's not that there are secrets in there or anything it's just about boundaries and vulnerability and personal space. I hate being vulnerable and I need my personal space.
What's worse is that she read, my poetry, misinterpreted it, and gabbed about it with her friend (asking her friend to pump me for info none the less). Based on rather abstract poetry she basically thinks that I am a whore and that a lot more happened at a certain go-away trip I took last spring than actually did (which is pretty easy considering nothing happened ).
On the bright side I completely understand her extreme boy superstition now; however, she read my private fucking thoughts and invaded my space! I mean what the hell?! Sixteen and a half years and I can't have a little fucking space?! I can't have one thing to myself? Is nothing sacred?! Seriously, that bitch! And why the hell didn't she just talk to me about instead of dancing around it and making us both uncomfortable.
What she did was ridiculously wrong, I'm pissed, I'm sick of her bullshit, and somebody is going to pay!
GRRRRR!!!!!! haha
So if you didn't know this I have some serious trust issues. They were caused by my parents, primarily my mother, so trusting her is especially difficult.
Recently, I felt like we've made progress, like we've grown closer and actually formed a relationship; but I guess I was wrong. She was just using me for information the way my parents always do, just using me.
Lately she has been really suspicious and won't let me do anything if there's boys there (massive boy induced paranoia pretty much) and just now I figured out why: she's been reading my journal.
No, I do not have some flowery bullshit diary were I write my feelings and the days events; I have a journal, a tool to express ones' self creatively, a place where I store my thoughts, ideas, pro-con lists, and life goals...but more importantly the place where I keep the songs and poetry I have written.
You probably didn't no I write songs or poetry; that's exactly how personal it is. I have only ever shown my journal to three people beside myself and even then only select pages. My journal is mine and it's private, it's not that there are secrets in there or anything it's just about boundaries and vulnerability and personal space. I hate being vulnerable and I need my personal space.
What's worse is that she read, my poetry, misinterpreted it, and gabbed about it with her friend (asking her friend to pump me for info none the less). Based on rather abstract poetry she basically thinks that I am a whore and that a lot more happened at a certain go-away trip I took last spring than actually did (which is pretty easy considering nothing happened ).
On the bright side I completely understand her extreme boy superstition now; however, she read my private fucking thoughts and invaded my space! I mean what the hell?! Sixteen and a half years and I can't have a little fucking space?! I can't have one thing to myself? Is nothing sacred?! Seriously, that bitch! And why the hell didn't she just talk to me about instead of dancing around it and making us both uncomfortable.
What she did was ridiculously wrong, I'm pissed, I'm sick of her bullshit, and somebody is going to pay!
GRRRRR!!!!!! haha
Monday, January 26, 2009
My Bucket List (So Far)
So this is basically a list of everything I want to do before I die. It's mostly just specific tasks. It doesn't include all the places I want to visit or people I want to meet or books I want to read or whatnot; just some stuff I want to do. It isn't done yet, but this is it so far; this is my...
...Bucket List:
-master a skill
-be in 2 places at once
-break a law (don't get caught)
-watch the sun set/rise (and stay up all night)
-see something beautiful that no on else will
-bungee jump
-get a tattoo
-buy a star
-become bilingual (at least)
-write/publish a novel
-star in a film
-live under the Tuscan sun
-find love, lose it, and find it again
-be involved in the making of history
-change someone's life for the better
-save a life
-gamble with the high rollers in Monte Carlo
-attend a Fashion Week
-be a guest on the Ellen DeGeneres show
-own an apartment in Manhattan
-vacation in the Hamptons
-Feb. in Cape Cod/Martha's Vineyard
-visit all 50 states and at least 6 of the 7 continents
-jump into the Mediterranean with my best friends
-attend a silent rave
-fly in a hot air balloon
-own at least 100 different designs of converse
-sit on a beach in a thunderstorm and watch the lightning
-dine with royalty
-do something newsworthy
-fail at something (publicly)
-live through a tornado
-find meaning in life
-fly from Sydney to LA
-fight for something/someone
-visit a mythical location (i.e. Jerusalem)
-solve a mystery
-spend way to much money on something useless that I can't afford
-go on a zip line
-research & record family history for future generations
-tepee someone
-visit a haunted location; bring a big strong man to fight the ghosts, haha
-hold a seance
-visit the 7 wonders of the world
-spend a summer in the South
-visit Port Washington, CT, and Forks, WA
-wander aimlessly around London searching for the entrance to Diagonal Alley; check phone booths for the entrance to the Ministry of Magic
-dine atop the Eiffel tower
-have a cute Italian boy buy me pasta in Rome
-make a wish in the Trevy fountain
-visit the Australian Zoo
-sky dive
-tie up the loose ends in my life
...
...Bucket List:
-master a skill
-be in 2 places at once
-break a law (don't get caught)
-watch the sun set/rise (and stay up all night)
-see something beautiful that no on else will
-bungee jump
-get a tattoo
-buy a star
-become bilingual (at least)
-write/publish a novel
-star in a film
-live under the Tuscan sun
-find love, lose it, and find it again
-be involved in the making of history
-change someone's life for the better
-save a life
-gamble with the high rollers in Monte Carlo
-attend a Fashion Week
-be a guest on the Ellen DeGeneres show
-own an apartment in Manhattan
-vacation in the Hamptons
-Feb. in Cape Cod/Martha's Vineyard
-visit all 50 states and at least 6 of the 7 continents
-jump into the Mediterranean with my best friends
-attend a silent rave
-fly in a hot air balloon
-own at least 100 different designs of converse
-sit on a beach in a thunderstorm and watch the lightning
-dine with royalty
-do something newsworthy
-fail at something (publicly)
-live through a tornado
-find meaning in life
-fly from Sydney to LA
-fight for something/someone
-visit a mythical location (i.e. Jerusalem)
-solve a mystery
-spend way to much money on something useless that I can't afford
-go on a zip line
-research & record family history for future generations
-tepee someone
-visit a haunted location; bring a big strong man to fight the ghosts, haha
-hold a seance
-visit the 7 wonders of the world
-spend a summer in the South
-visit Port Washington, CT, and Forks, WA
-wander aimlessly around London searching for the entrance to Diagonal Alley; check phone booths for the entrance to the Ministry of Magic
-dine atop the Eiffel tower
-have a cute Italian boy buy me pasta in Rome
-make a wish in the Trevy fountain
-visit the Australian Zoo
-sky dive
-tie up the loose ends in my life
...
Friday, January 23, 2009
Objectified
I was on the bus home today, with a small segment of the usual crowd. Myself, three other ND/Palma kids including this one freshman girl and her twin brother. If you've ever been on an MST bus, then you know that there is a "communal" section in the front and back of the bus and the middle is filled with individual sets of seats, two on a side. Each of us were spaced out by at least one seat set.
Eventually we pull up to a stop in Toro where four public school boys (probably sophomores or juniors) get on. I first I don't think anything of it, just some guys enjoying their day off being silly; but within a few minutes the entire bus reeks of pot, and if you know my feelings about drugs (another note for another time) you'd know that this pisses me off already. I mean honestly, what the hell are they thinking getting high and then getting on a public bus?! There are kids that ride MST! Not to mention it's just plain stupid! I wish I could make another powerful and coherent sentence on what a selfish and unintelligent decision that is! I mean, if they want to expose themselves and there probably already limited number of brain cells to that shit then that is there decision, and I can't say that it's fine or that I respect it but they are entitled to it.
So aside from the stench and there loud chatter (which was luckily incoherent under the sounds of Angels and Airwaves coming through my headphones) nothing else seems to be wrong. Just some idiot teenage boys doing, what all but a few of them seem to do best, being absolute morons. But then I notice the freshman girl looks up at them with a hurt glare. I mean if looks could kill, we would have had four dead bodies on our hands; I have never seen anyone's face hold such intensity before, I felt as if I could read her like a book.
Now I don't particularly like this freshman girl. I mean she is perfectly nice and everything, but her "type" generally piss me off. You know, the fake blond girls with the heavy eyeliner and the skirts that might as well not even be there, the kind that all the guys drool over, the kind that I can't tell if I hate them because they are stupid or because I want to be one of them. In some circles, they're the "popular" girls, I can't really be an authority figure on what is or isn't popular, but you know the girls to who I am referring.
So this girl looks angry, but it isn't just anger, it's pain underneath. I can't quite figure out what's wrong. I figured maybe she's just wishing they would shut up so she could finish the homework she's working on, or maybe she's straight edge too, probably no big deal. I pause my iPod for a second, and tune in to the boys conversation, or what I can hear anyway. Nothing seemed inappropriate, so I chalk it up to a misunderstanding...And yet, something about the look on her face won't let me forget it.
A while later, and two stops before me, the girl and her brother get off. The idiot boys decide to move from the front of the bus to the back (the section right behind me). Something still seems off, so I press pause again and see what happens.
The boys are apparently still watching the twins, and in about a minute of argument, figure out that they're twins ("But they can't be twins 'cuz that one's a boy"...W-O-W...nice one losers). And after I try not to explode from laughter about that one, I hear something that makes me sick to my stomach. "Damn his sister sure was hot." "What a nice little slice." "What a slut." "I bet she's easy." And it went on and on getting worse and worse and more and more vulgar, and I swear to God, I could've leapt over the seat and killed those assholes with my bare hands. I thought about it, pictured it, who to take first, how to get over my seat the fastest, and how to escape when the bus driver figured it out. I literally had to hold myself down because I was shaking with anger. It took every fiber of my being not to do something, anything; scream, swear, fight, I didn't really care anymore I just couldn't sit passively and let them talk about her like, like, like that!
Ultimately I got off the bus, I did nothing, I let them go. I realized that I am a defenseless loser; that even had I said anything I just would tripped, or dropped something, and completely ruined the sting of my words. Wouldn't it? Would having said something, done something, would it have changed anything?
All I can say is I am appalled. I don't care what a girl does, or how she dresses, or anything else, NO woman deserves to be talked to/about like that. I can't believe that those boys have been raised in a way that they think that is acceptable behavior because it is ABSOLUTELY NOT O.K. I was even more upset because I know guys like that, I have liked guys like that. What they hell was I thinking? Have I been so fucked up in the head by the men in my life that I think THAT is desirable? Because it is absofuckinglutely NOT. Never again will I ever make that mistake. And never again will I ever write off a girl because of her actions or appearance. I don't care who you are, male or female, everyone deserves equality and every woman deserves respect.
...Any thoughts?...
Eventually we pull up to a stop in Toro where four public school boys (probably sophomores or juniors) get on. I first I don't think anything of it, just some guys enjoying their day off being silly; but within a few minutes the entire bus reeks of pot, and if you know my feelings about drugs (another note for another time) you'd know that this pisses me off already. I mean honestly, what the hell are they thinking getting high and then getting on a public bus?! There are kids that ride MST! Not to mention it's just plain stupid! I wish I could make another powerful and coherent sentence on what a selfish and unintelligent decision that is! I mean, if they want to expose themselves and there probably already limited number of brain cells to that shit then that is there decision, and I can't say that it's fine or that I respect it but they are entitled to it.
So aside from the stench and there loud chatter (which was luckily incoherent under the sounds of Angels and Airwaves coming through my headphones) nothing else seems to be wrong. Just some idiot teenage boys doing, what all but a few of them seem to do best, being absolute morons. But then I notice the freshman girl looks up at them with a hurt glare. I mean if looks could kill, we would have had four dead bodies on our hands; I have never seen anyone's face hold such intensity before, I felt as if I could read her like a book.
Now I don't particularly like this freshman girl. I mean she is perfectly nice and everything, but her "type" generally piss me off. You know, the fake blond girls with the heavy eyeliner and the skirts that might as well not even be there, the kind that all the guys drool over, the kind that I can't tell if I hate them because they are stupid or because I want to be one of them. In some circles, they're the "popular" girls, I can't really be an authority figure on what is or isn't popular, but you know the girls to who I am referring.
So this girl looks angry, but it isn't just anger, it's pain underneath. I can't quite figure out what's wrong. I figured maybe she's just wishing they would shut up so she could finish the homework she's working on, or maybe she's straight edge too, probably no big deal. I pause my iPod for a second, and tune in to the boys conversation, or what I can hear anyway. Nothing seemed inappropriate, so I chalk it up to a misunderstanding...And yet, something about the look on her face won't let me forget it.
A while later, and two stops before me, the girl and her brother get off. The idiot boys decide to move from the front of the bus to the back (the section right behind me). Something still seems off, so I press pause again and see what happens.
The boys are apparently still watching the twins, and in about a minute of argument, figure out that they're twins ("But they can't be twins 'cuz that one's a boy"...W-O-W...nice one losers). And after I try not to explode from laughter about that one, I hear something that makes me sick to my stomach. "Damn his sister sure was hot." "What a nice little slice." "What a slut." "I bet she's easy." And it went on and on getting worse and worse and more and more vulgar, and I swear to God, I could've leapt over the seat and killed those assholes with my bare hands. I thought about it, pictured it, who to take first, how to get over my seat the fastest, and how to escape when the bus driver figured it out. I literally had to hold myself down because I was shaking with anger. It took every fiber of my being not to do something, anything; scream, swear, fight, I didn't really care anymore I just couldn't sit passively and let them talk about her like, like, like that!
Ultimately I got off the bus, I did nothing, I let them go. I realized that I am a defenseless loser; that even had I said anything I just would tripped, or dropped something, and completely ruined the sting of my words. Wouldn't it? Would having said something, done something, would it have changed anything?
All I can say is I am appalled. I don't care what a girl does, or how she dresses, or anything else, NO woman deserves to be talked to/about like that. I can't believe that those boys have been raised in a way that they think that is acceptable behavior because it is ABSOLUTELY NOT O.K. I was even more upset because I know guys like that, I have liked guys like that. What they hell was I thinking? Have I been so fucked up in the head by the men in my life that I think THAT is desirable? Because it is absofuckinglutely NOT. Never again will I ever make that mistake. And never again will I ever write off a girl because of her actions or appearance. I don't care who you are, male or female, everyone deserves equality and every woman deserves respect.
...Any thoughts?...
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
How the American Education System Fails Us (Rant Against "The MAN")
The whole conspiracy theory, it goes deep. If you think about it, from the government, to the media, to capitalism, it works together to control us; to turn us into the consumerist zombies that we are (without us ever even realizing it). Before you right me off, think about it. How much influence external sources have on your life, consciously and subconsciously. More on that another time, but it really is ridiculous.
So here's the deal: School, it fails us. In the attempt to 'empower' us and to 'give us a better future' the school system takes away our power and deprives us of our present and our future.
If you translate the word "Kindergarten" from it's original German, it literally means "to break the spirits of" and that is exactly what they do. Public schools in conjunction with society use us all like play-dough, creating perfect little molds of who they think we should be. They teach what is and is not "appropriate"; they teach us to color inside the lines, follow a proper code of conduct, and tell us how we can and cannot behave. Now I'm not a hippie; I'm not saying there should be no discipline and no order, I'm just thinking, what are they doing to us? Just think about all the influences in your life. When was the last time you ever thought for yourself? Without influence, from parents, peers, media, education, or some sort of factoid stored in your brain? And when was the first time you let those influences start thinking for you?
Once they broken us, molded us, the education system does something worse: they deprive us of our youth. In today's society, you are preparing for college since preschool, whether you know it or not. We are piled with homework on top of the six mandatory hours most of us spend in school. When exactly are kids allowed to just be kids? When can we run around and breathe fresh air and think about something else besides school like, oh, I don't know, who we want to be as a person, or our families, or the many problems that arrive in day to day life? What about those problems? No one with a real life can honestly survive school. In eighth grade when my mom was dying and my dad was gone did they honestly expect me to just say "Oh, sorry mom, I'm sorry you have organ failure and we only have a few months left together, but I have Algebra to do?"...because if that is what they seriously expect of us then they are sadly mistaken. (Keep in mind, I am one of the lucky ones who has a cushy life and who's parent recovered; what does the school system say to those who have actually lost a parent?)
Has anyone ever considered that they our wasting the best years of our lives behind a desk in some classroom, teaching us what they 'think' we 'need to know'? I think it's about time someone inform 'THEM' that what you need to know about life you cannot learn in a classroom. You learn it outside, in the world, living life.
But if we follow the 'plan' we will never get to live our lives. We go to school all of our youth, then we are expected to go to college, after which we are expected to opt for more school or begin our career, we then will spend 30-40 years of our life in a job (that quite honestly most of us won't like), following which (if we live that long) we can retire and be further screwed over by the American system which leaves us barely anything to live off of. Honestly, what gives? When am I supposed to live my life? When do I get to follow my heart and follow my dreams? You get one chance to live this life, and the 'SYSTEM' wants us to waste it?! Call me crazy if you want to, but I consider that to be major oppression; land of the free my ass.
So here's the deal: School, it fails us. In the attempt to 'empower' us and to 'give us a better future' the school system takes away our power and deprives us of our present and our future.
If you translate the word "Kindergarten" from it's original German, it literally means "to break the spirits of" and that is exactly what they do. Public schools in conjunction with society use us all like play-dough, creating perfect little molds of who they think we should be. They teach what is and is not "appropriate"; they teach us to color inside the lines, follow a proper code of conduct, and tell us how we can and cannot behave. Now I'm not a hippie; I'm not saying there should be no discipline and no order, I'm just thinking, what are they doing to us? Just think about all the influences in your life. When was the last time you ever thought for yourself? Without influence, from parents, peers, media, education, or some sort of factoid stored in your brain? And when was the first time you let those influences start thinking for you?
Once they broken us, molded us, the education system does something worse: they deprive us of our youth. In today's society, you are preparing for college since preschool, whether you know it or not. We are piled with homework on top of the six mandatory hours most of us spend in school. When exactly are kids allowed to just be kids? When can we run around and breathe fresh air and think about something else besides school like, oh, I don't know, who we want to be as a person, or our families, or the many problems that arrive in day to day life? What about those problems? No one with a real life can honestly survive school. In eighth grade when my mom was dying and my dad was gone did they honestly expect me to just say "Oh, sorry mom, I'm sorry you have organ failure and we only have a few months left together, but I have Algebra to do?"...because if that is what they seriously expect of us then they are sadly mistaken. (Keep in mind, I am one of the lucky ones who has a cushy life and who's parent recovered; what does the school system say to those who have actually lost a parent?)
Has anyone ever considered that they our wasting the best years of our lives behind a desk in some classroom, teaching us what they 'think' we 'need to know'? I think it's about time someone inform 'THEM' that what you need to know about life you cannot learn in a classroom. You learn it outside, in the world, living life.
But if we follow the 'plan' we will never get to live our lives. We go to school all of our youth, then we are expected to go to college, after which we are expected to opt for more school or begin our career, we then will spend 30-40 years of our life in a job (that quite honestly most of us won't like), following which (if we live that long) we can retire and be further screwed over by the American system which leaves us barely anything to live off of. Honestly, what gives? When am I supposed to live my life? When do I get to follow my heart and follow my dreams? You get one chance to live this life, and the 'SYSTEM' wants us to waste it?! Call me crazy if you want to, but I consider that to be major oppression; land of the free my ass.
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