I Am Human

It seems that I may have a cold. I am more bothered by this than I have any right to be. You see, I have this need to convey an image of invincibility. I'm not sure how many other people buy into it, but I usually manage to keep myself pretty well convinced. Veganism keeps me healthy; I'm fairly certain this is the first illness I have had in at least a year and I'm still not even entirely sure that's what this is. I mean I am surrounded by allergens of every shape and size all day long. My workout schedule keeps me strong, and I compensate for any lack of strength I may have with pure stubbornness. And my high pain tolerance and lack of concern for my own safety give me the distinct feeling that nothing can hurt me. That is, until I get a fucking cold! Then I realize that despite my best efforts (and my best delusions) I am still just human after all. Alas.

Back to the Start

As I mentioned yesterday, it looks like I'm going back to Goodwill. I'm not even bothered about this so much because I don't want to work there, it really wasn't all that bad, it's just that I feel like I keep going in circles. Every time I try to do something different with my life I end up right back where I started. When I really stop and think about it, I'm not entirely sure that I've ever actually made any progress in my life at all. In fact, I'm not even sure what I would consider progress to be.

Poetry

Lately my sister and I have been listening to quite a bit of spoken word poetry. We have found some rather amazing poets. For anyone who hasn't seen it, it's a really cool art form and you should definitely check it out. I would love to try it myself were I not such a pussy when it comes to public speaking, also if I didn't live in WV which is pretty much the worst place on the planet to do anything artistic. Who knows, maybe someday I'll get brave and give it a try. Either way, I may try to write some poetry again. Hopefully I can come up with some better stuff than I did last time I tried writing poetry.

Sexy Strings

Back when I was, I think, eight years old I played the violin. I really enjoyed it for a while but then I got bored, as I tend to do with everything, and gave it up. Recently, I have found myself wishing that I had stuck with it. Imagine how good I could be at it by now. Plus I have seem to have developed an affinity for the sound of stringed instruments. I started watching Angel and I LOVE the music at the beginning, which is mostly cello. Also, I found this girl who is fucking amazing! 

                                          

No Clever and/or Funny Image Today

I don't even know if I should write about this because it's horrible and disturbing, and if you don't want to hear anything horrible or disturbing I recommend that you don't read this, but I said before that I was going to be honest here and talking about anything else today would be dishonest.

This morning I was getting ready to go feed Riley and Petunia and, as I was filling up the water buckets, I was thinking about what I was going to write here today. I was actually thinking that I would write that things might finally be turning around. I got up this morning and it was warm and sunny outside and, so far, I have found no sing that Impala has pissed on anything for the past 24 hours. Then I take the buckets out to put them in the car and there, laying in our driveway, is a dead cat with the bottom half of his face missing.

My dad has a pretty large group of (mostly) feral cats living outside his house. We feed and water them, but  most of them won't let us touch them or even get very close to them. Some of them we have named, but other's are hard for us to even tell apart. This was one of the ones I didn't really know, and his lower jaw had been ripped completely, and cleanly, off of his face. I have never seen anything like it in my life; it was fucking horrible. My dad says he was hit by a car, but I swear I don't know how it could have happened. His jaw was just gone.

I'm not sure if I have mentioned this before or not but there is this trend in my life that, on the rare occasion, when I actually start to feel better about things something always goes terribly wrong. Well apparently I have to be more careful to make sure that I stay miserable all the time, or my bad luck will not only come back to bite me in the ass but it's going to start attacking those around me as well.

If Only I Had an Enemy Bigger Than My Apathy I Could've Won

I really wish I gave a shit about anything in my life anymore. I just seem to have lost all interest in anything that is going on right now. I had two tests yesterday and, as usual, I didn't study for either of them. I feel like I probably did okay on them, but the truth is I really don't care much either way. I've never been big on studying, but I used to care enough to at least worry about how I did on a test, even if I didn't care enough to study for it. Not anymore. I also have a paper due on Monday. It's supposed to be five to seven pages long and, until this morning, I hadn't so much as looked at the article it's supposed to be about. It just doesn't matter to me anymore. I mean I'm going to try to make sure I do well enough to at least get credit for my classes but aside from that, fuck it. I'm bored with all of this.

The title is a line from a Mumford and Son's song that has seemed very relevant to me lately.

Obsessive much?

I have talked before about how much I hate it when the electricity goes out. I can say that at least planned power outages are preferable to the unplanned ones. They still suck though. A couple of days ago the power company called to let us know that there was a planned power outage today, from 4am to 7am. I'm sure, for most people, this was the least inconvenient time possible. I mean who in their right mind is up that early? Well, I am (not that I am in mind right mind, but I am up that early.) In fact, that is just about the worst time for me to have no electricity, because that is exactly when I am getting ready for class. At 7 I would still have time to get ready but not to exercise, and I'm still kind of annoyed from the last time the power went out and I had to skip my workout. So what did I do? I got up at 1:30, had breakfast, did my workout and then went back to bed until 7. Because that seems like a rational thing to do, right? I am a crazy person.

Like Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Only Really Fucking Boring

Whether I'm working or going to school or whatever, every so often I start to feel like I just can't do it anymore. The way I generally handle this is to wait until I feel like, if I have to go one more time, my head is going to explode, then I don't go one day. Weekends and holidays don't seem to work, it has to be a day I'm actually supposed to be there. It's not like I do anything fun or exciting, mostly I just stay home and do all the things I needed to get done but didn't have time for. Anyway, the next day I usually feel better about things and am able to keep going to work or school for at least another month or so, before things start to feel really suffocating again. So yeah, I didn't go to class yesterday. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem to have worked so well this time. Awesome.

Gently

I use the same workout DVDs everyday and, after a while, I get a bit tired of hearing the instructors say the same things over and over again. I find that it helps to sort of argue with them in my head. On my belly dance DVD, there is this one part where the girl tells you to do "a nice gentle quadricep stretch." Every time I hear her say that, I think "Listen, I don't do gentle. If it doesn't hurt, I'm not interested." As troubling as that may seem on it's own, I have realized that I basically feel the same way about all aspects of my life. I need that intensity. If things are too simple I get bored. I don't like it when things are calm, or peaceful, or "gentle". I need it to hurt a little. This helps to explain some things that I've done in my life that otherwise make absolutely no sense.

I Wish

I wish I believed that someday I will have a life that will make all of this seem worth it.
I wish I believed that someday I will have a place that will make the wandering worth it.
I wish I believed that someday I will have a job that will make the searching worth it.
I wish I believed that someday I will have a love that will make the loneliness worth it.
I wish I believed that someday I will have a purpose that will make the emptiness worth it.

Unfortunately, I don't believe any of that. Chances are, things are going to be just like this for the rest of my life. As you can tell, I'm feeling real fucking upbeat today.

Living in a World Where No One Knows What's Important in Life, Priceless

I find that all of the things I value most are things that no one else seems to appreciate at all. The traits I work so hard to cultivate in myself are ones that seem worthless to other people. When I think about all of the things that are most sought after in our current society, it makes me feel 1-entirely alone, and 2- utterly hopeless as to the future of our world.

I value compassion for all beings in a world where most people barely show compassion to other humans.
I value strength, of body and mind, in a time when weakness is not only accepted but expected of us.
I value self-control in a society where excess and hedonism are rewarded
I value simplicity in in a country where success is measured in possessions.
I value hard work in an economy that's based around sitting at a desk.
I value courage in a culture that teaches us to be afraid of everything.

Fuck it. I'll just become a hermit.

Survival of the Bitchiest

The other day, my mom and I were talking about survival, specifically the difference between people who survive life-threatening situations and those who don't. We came to the consensus that the main difference is a willingness to suffer. I will tell you right now, if I am ever in a plane crash and get stuck in the wilderness or floating out in the ocean or something, I'm probably not making it back. I have absolutely no desire to die of exposure, starvation, or thirst and the possibility of being rescued is just not worth the suffering involved in trying to survive. That being said, if I ever get kidnapped by a psychopath or attacked by some evil creature ( Yes, I know there's no such thing. That's irrelevant.) I think I have a better chance than almost anyone. You see, I don't have a problem with suffering. What I don't like is suffering for no reason and, as far as I'm concerned, spite is as good a reason as any. If I get stuck in the wilderness, mother nature doesn't give two shits if I live or not, so why bother. But if there is someone actually trying to kill me, I am sure as fuck not going to make it easy for them.

The Gray Areas Are Mine

As surprising as this may be to some, I think I have a lot more moral flexibility than most people. I tend to be able to understand and accept things that other people consider to be completely awful. I see about ninety-nine percent of the world as a giant gray area. As far as I'm concerned one of the only, if not the only, moral rule that is truly set in stone is "Don't cause the death or suffering of the innocent." Everything else can be forgiven, if not justified. That's why animal rights and veganism are so important to me. In my opinion, they are the only true moral imperatives. You could break into my house, steal everything I own, and shoot me in the foot, but if I found out you were vegan I would still think you were a good person. In all honesty, you would have an easier time convincing me that you were morally justified in killing another human than in eating a hamburger. Because from what I've seen very few, if any, humans are truly innocent while animals, almost invariably, are. It's kind of funny that the one rule I'm really steadfast on is the one that almost no one agrees with.

By the way, the title is a line form the Bright Eyes song "Middleman."

Squish

A while back, I mentioned my issue with germs, and I just want to clarify something about that. I am not afraid of dying. I often joke about worrying that I will catch Ebola, or the Plague, or some other obscure and deadly pathogen, but that's actually not what I worry about at all. My fear is not of being infected by something that will kill me, but by something that will make me wish I were dead, which is surprisingly easy to do. I almost never get sick and on the rare occasion that I do I always get a far less severe version of the illness than everyone else (I thank veganism for that). Nonetheless, I absolutely loathe being sick, and any kind of stomach thing will make me pray for someone to put a bullet in my brainpan.

By the way, last line+title=Serenity reference

I Am a Master of Disguise

It's funny how people can end up getting stuck in these personas that have nothing to do with who they really are. Once people see you a certain way it's incredibly difficult to get them to change their perceptions. I was homeschooled until fourth grade. When I first went to public school, I had no idea what to expect and I ended up being this extremely quiet, reserved, overly polite person. That's how everyone came to know me. I was the "nice girl" the "good girl" the "quite girl" but that was never who I really was, or who I wanted to be. That's the image of me that stuck though. Even after I cut all of my hair off and got (lots of) tattoos, people still somehow saw me as this innocent, naive person. To this day, I have trouble getting past that. I find that I'm so used to being treated that way that I end up doing things and saying things that in no way reflect what I really think or who I really am. I'm working on it though.

Time

Here's another random quote form a story that doesn't exist. I actually don't feel this way at all, but this just sort of occurred to me today and I thought it sounded kind of nice.  

"Time moves so fast. It brings things into our lives and then takes them back out again, before we ever get a chance to appreciate them. Deep down, we all know this is the way it has to be. Yet we keep telling ourselves "This time it will be different. This time it will last." But it never does."

I actually feel that time moves far too slowly, and seldom brings anything that I'm terribly worried about losing, but whatever.

Being Productive, Watching Fictional Characters Be Productive, Same Thing.

I feel like such a lazy piece of crap today. Since the electricity went out yesterday (It did come back on last nigh, thank god!)  I didn't accomplish anything. Yesterday morning, I kept resetting my alarm clock in the hopes that the next time it went off the power would be back on, but that never happened. I ended up sleeping for like ten hours, which is about twice as long as I usually sleep. Then I couldn't even exercise because my workout is on a DVD (well two DVDs). I hate skipping my workout! I know it's insane but, I automatically feel stronger and more attractive after I exercise. Which means if I skip it, I automatically feel fat and flabby and disgusting. So what did I do with my day, you ask? Why, I sat around at my mom's house and watched Supernatural for hours on end of course. So fucking productive. At least I managed to make it to my test on time. That's something right?

Uncle! Okay? Uncle!

Somehow I have managed to have even worse luck the last few days than I normally do. Two nights ago, Petunia pulled the fence away from the barn far enough that she could climb over it if she wanted to. I spent around half an hour trying to fix it, and finally got it to the point where it looked like it would hold. Then the next morning, when I was already running VERY late for class, as soon as I go near the barn she jumps up on the fence and rips it right back down. Then, as I'm trying to push her off of the once again broken fence, she flings her head and throws a huge chunk of mud in my eye, not near my eye, in my eye!

Then last night, as I'm on my way back form my mom's house, I get pulled over for the first time in years. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, because he didn't give me a ticket. What he did do was ask me if I had any bombs in the car. That's right, bombs! Who asks that? Has anyone ever been asked that when they got pulled over? He also asked me if I had any drugs, twice. What the fuck?

Worst yet, this morning the power went out, which for most people would mean having to get dressed in the dark, but for me means no lights and no water. No water means no washing my hands which, for me, means basically no functioning at all. As bad as this would be on a normal day, today was the worst possible day for it to happen because I had to be at class at 8:00 for a test. That's why this post is so late, by the way.

All I can say is I hope the universe is done with it's little game, because otherwise I am going to lose my damn mind. Also, the fucking power better come back on, or I am going to have to stay with my mom and my sister in their already exceptionally crowded apartment.

Germaphobe or Drug Addict? You Don't Know.

So I'm still considering the whole police officer thing, and before I can take the agility test (which, by the way, makes me feel like I'm competing in a fucking dog show) I had to get a doctor to declare me to be in good enough physical condition to take the test. Yesterday I finally went to get a physical. I don't even know how many years it's been since I was in a doctor's office. I avoid them at all costs. Every time I set foot in a doctor's office, hospital, health clinic, any similar place, I become convinced that I am going to contact some horrifying illness. When I show up for my appointment yesterday, I am already on edge. I walk into the building and try to act like I'm not on the verge of sprinting in the opposite direction. To my relief, there is only one person in the waiting room, which indicates to me that 1- less people = less germs, and 2- maybe this won't take very long. I sit in the waiting room for maybe five minutes before they take me in and I'm thinking "Yes! I am going to make it through this after all." Then, for some reason they decide to leave me in the exam room for over an hour! During which time I hear multiple people coming and going. Some of them are coughing, some groaning, and some talking about how they spent the whole weekend lying in bed. Meanwhile, I'm pacing back and forth at around ninety mile an hour and alternately wringing my hands and shoving them so far into my pockets that I'm afraid the seams are going to rip. Plus I'm pretty sure my eyes looked like they were going to pop out of my head. Twice, other patients walked by and looked at me, at which point I realized that they were most likely wondering what kind of pills I was there to score.

Hooray for Mediocrity!

So it looks like it's not going to be straight As for me this semester. One of my professors decided to make our class half online, which I don't even really understand. We're just having class half the time. What exactly is the point of that? Anyway, there is a reasons I didn't sign up for any online classes. Because I hate them! Here's the thing, I am lazy as fuck when it comes to school. I don't really study, I don't read the textbooks, in fact about ninety-nine percent of the time I don't even buy the textbooks. I go to class, I take good notes and then, if I'm lucky, I read over my notes once or twice right before the test. And it's been working out really well for me up to this point. Well, with this class, we're basically expected to learn everything on our own. The good news is that the tests are also online, and they are open-book, open-note. Here's the problem though, I don't have the book because the stupid thing costs $130 and there's no goddamn way I'm paying that much for it, and I don't have enough notes because we don't have class enough for him to cover the information. So yesterday I just took the test and bullshitted my way through it, googling as much of the stuff as I could before the time ran out. I ended up with a 76% which is not so bad, all things considered.