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Crush enemies, abandon hope, and unleash endless waves of unrepentant sarcasm. |
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There's nothing to see here that's really out of the ordinary. Nothing really terribly interesting either, unless you like griping, gossip, grudges, and possible mental illness. If anything it's some small way to keep myself writing (though you'll see by the dates on the entries that it's by no means an effective way), as well as a means through which I can vent about any number of things that are pissing me off. Occasionally there's pie. Look: I'm not a normal person. I'm suffering from untreated depression and plagued by increasingly frequent migraines that pretty much render me bedridden for days. I've suffered a lifetime of abuse and neglect, and still have to struggle with unfathomable depths of low self-worth, not to mention the eating disorders. I'm a weirdo, a freak, an aberration of nature and human experience . . . but it doesn't make me interesting. So, you can read this if you want. I've got some social commentary that might be a little fun, and occasionally throw in a poem or two, but for the most part it's the ramblings of a stricken mind. Pay no attention to the woman behind the curtain; she's just trying to change her dress. |
| There aren't a lot of people who know this, but I have a minor form of schizophrenia. At least, judging from what I've read, I think I do, as the only shrink I've had was a biologically based moron who believed that there were no bad parents and that all a child's problems stem either from a chemical imbalance, or a desire to lie for attention. So, I had to live with this crap for some time before coming up with it on my own. It's actually a bit of a puzzle; according to the literature, schizophrenia manifests itself around early adulthood, but I was seeing things when I was at least fourteen, fifteen years old. Hmmm, perhaps I was at the far left of that bell curve. Anyhow, I've been experiencing hallucinations, mainly auditory but occasionally visual, for quite some time. Therefore, seeing myself as out-of-proportion shouldn't be that scary anymore And yet, it is. I noticed it after German today, around maybe three or four in the after noon. I was standing before the mirror and noticed that my arms were too long. Freakishly too long. I also couldn't help but notice that my shoulders had broadened, my legs were shorter, and my head looked positively gigantic. Now, these proportions are not outside of physical possibilty, and while not very attractive, there's nothing truly odd about long arms, big shoulders, and a big head. But still, I think I would have noticed it before now if it was real! As logical as that thinking sounds, it's not good enough. I've been hiding in my room avoiding everyone in the lounge because I'm afraid that this is really the way I look. Of course if it was real they would have gotten used to it by now and no longer take note. But, and I know this is impossible, I fear that I may have changed shape, and that the mirror is showing me what I really look like as of today. In that case, I can't go outside because everyone is bound to notice how disgustingly shaped I am now. Better to stay in here until this clears up. It will be just me and Paola, and she keeps to herself anyway, so there's no fear here. I just wish I could know when my mind is playing tricks on me, and when it's just that I need to diet, a lot. I suppose this isn't as bad as the time I woke up with first-degree burns all over my face. Still, it's really creeping me out, for lack of a better phrase, and it's doing nothing good for my self-esteem. In the meantime, my lower back is aching like hell. Better get some Motrin to calm that puppy. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| If you were given the power to kill whomever you desired, without any risk of discovery or prosecution, and were obligated to do so until you died, who would you kill? Corrupt politicans? Murderers? Thieves? Drug lords? Or would you kill for amusement, or profit? What would happen if somebody with a different mindset than your own also inherited this power? Keeping in mind that you cannot kill those who share your gift, would you join them or oppose them? People with a motivation to kill one whom they deem deserving of death exchange their souls, for the remainder of their natural life, for the ability to kill anyone they wish in any manner they choose. However, the demon who makes the exchange adds a condition to the contract: the person with the gift is obligated to kill at least one person a month for the rest of their lives. It can be an innocent stranger, someone who annoys the gifted, or anyone with whom the gifted disagrees. I'm not sure how often I will be able to come up with additions to this anime-esque concoction, but I will try, I dunno, bimonthly? I'll try! |
| I finally found a halfway decent streaming anime site, by which I mean I actually found a site that hosts streaming full-length videos of anime episodes. It's hardly perfect, as the search indexes are a bit of a hodge podge of various names for the same episode and often don't enlighten as to how the show is formatted---is it dubbed or subtitled? In what language? Anyhoo, the site has episodes of "Death Note," the anime Sasha constantly talks about. It's pretty darn cool. I like the graphics, even if the mediocre quality of the video doesn't do them justice. The story is great so far (but I've only seen two episodes as of this writing) and I'm eager to learn who gets killed next. Thanks Sasha! This is an addiction I can live with. |
| So I've learned that you can't bypass insomnia by staying active during the period I normally spend lying awake in bed. I just came back from vomiting the small amount of fluid in my stomach, and I feel an overall lack of motivation to do pretty much anything. Yeah, I'm not doing this again. Rock band was fun (but damn it's hard to follow that little vocal indicator), drunk Aimee and Sasha (yes, I believe this time she was quite drunk) were enjoyable, and Drew's a dick (he blames all my emotions and lack of boyfriend on self-pity, that's all). Fun, yes . . . for the moment. Afterward? Not so much. I'm going to have to take a long nap when I come back from choir (no Shakespeare, yay!) just to ensure that I can make to 10 PM without passing out in Poetry. |
| I feel quite content and happy right now. It's a nice switch from this desire to end my own life before the year is out. Brad offered to let me nap with him, and I decided to take him up on the offer. However, I entered the room in response to a cry of pain (facetious) to see him and Aimee laying (lying?) on his bed, whereupon I feigned shock and cried, "Well! I didn't realize you were taking your nap now!" But I was invited up between them and lay there for some time facing Aimee with my head on his sternum (I'm a specifier!). Aimee got up to call somebody and I slid into her spot and said, "This is my spot now!" Eventually I lay on my side and Brad spooned up behind me and put his arm around my waist. He's nice to lie beside. The moment was interrupted when Andrew quite suddenly leapt on top of us and I was instructed by Bradley to spank him. The spanking was alternated between myself and Brad until Andrew bemoaned the redness of his ass and released us. I moaned that, "The moment is gone!" (God damn, I can't even type this. I must be REALLY excited) In response Brad put his arm back over my and the moment was back. The rest of the time we spent together was partial desire to sleep and desire to make fun of everything Andrew was doing, had done, and will do, just because he was there and is always an easy target. I have vowed to show Bradley "Salad Fingers" since this is one thing he has not yet seen (everybody should see "Salad Fingers" in my opinion), and I really just want to see him get freaked out by this very random, very disturbing webtoon. There were a few penis jokes, he kinda lay his hand lightly on my boob, but it was really quite enjoyable. Maybe I don't suck at existing. |
| So here's the deal: Bradley is my friend. It's likely he will always be my friend, assuming I don't change personalities completely and do something to alienate him (I can't imagine what I could do in my present state that would ever freak him out adversely). I am not entirely sure how he feels about my flirting, but so far he has not shown offense; surprise at times, but not offense. He flirts just as much, so it's likely this is just fun and games to him. The chances of him becoming romantically attracted to me are probably pretty low. I should feel flattered that he is, at least somewhat, physically attracted to me (though whether it's just because of my ass or whether he thinks I'm pretty is undertermined). But, at this time I won't have anything to do witrh someone who is not my boyfriend, and I should not expect him to wait for me. I can live with just being friends. I know myself, anyway: I'm an overly emotional girl who finds a nice guy (or an asshole back in middle school), develops a crush, and becomes fixated. My attraction to Bradley, while pretty genuine, should not be taken at face value, as it is almost certainly overblown in my perception. |
| So apparently "revirginization" is taking the country by storm. Girls don't want to be "second-hand goods" to their husbands and are devoting assloads of prayer time - and cash - to "restoring" their virginity. I guess we can thank those fuckers behind the Abstinence-Only movement for making women feel like GARBAGE for not waiting to have sex. Article to follow, this fucking pisses me off. |
| I think I'm gonna write a long story or novella about a cult. I want it to be a crazy cult, too. I'm thinking something along the lines of that doomsday suicide cult with the purple shrouds (Heaven's Gate), and I should probably throw in the genital mutilation as well. Basically, I want to write a story of crazy people and the crazy things they do to prepare for the end of the world when the aliens come to take back the gift of life they gave us so long ago. I want to make it a worldwide phenomenon that greatly impacts social life. We'll see where this one takes us. I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| To give some background story to this morning, last night, during which it was icing outside, I started experiencing waves of nausea that began when Sasha brought in her scrumptious-looking baked potato and loaded fries (with shredded cheese!) from the Damon's Express. For a few seconds at a time, I felt like I was truly going to vomit. Fortunately I did not, even when Sasha filled up on potato and couldn't finish the fries, thus giving them to me (sweet). However, a number of times early this morning I got the same sensation of illness, and was quite against going to German. I drug myself out of bed with but twenty minutes in which to get ready. I figured I would go to class, remain partially cognizant for the fifty minutes I had to be there to get the homework assignment, then return to my room and sleep some more. Well, that plan was interrupted by a quick visit to the GMU homepage to check and see if maybe, just maybe, classes had been delayed or canceled. And, sure enough, there in the little red emergency advisory box, was an alert that Mason opened at noon today. Doesn't sound that impressive, but when you're class begins half an hour before noon, that means it's CANCELED!. So I went back to bed, figuring I'd be up and about by one. Well, this may surprise you as much as it surprised me, to say that my alarm clock read three-fucking-fifteen upon my waking. I guess I really WAS feeling that shittily. At any rate, the weekend is heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeereeeeee! I tried to catch a falling star, but all I got was this damn pixie. |
| Ho, boy. Another audition for me to screw up royally. Since we're doing a Broadway montage instead of our usual classical mesh for the concert, there are many solo and small group opportunities, and I figured, "Hey, I should get in on that action." Not, this is the chick who freaks out anytime she has to audition before Dr. B, despite having auditioned for drama productions, choir solos, and the wonderful Honors chorus in twelth grade when they actually see your face. Anyhoo, it doesn't look good; I'm in the first group, which means I don't get the benefit of warming up in class (I'm doing it now, but I just woke up so it's rather rustifiying me further at this point), and, here's the big problem, I don't know the first audition piece. I have never seen this song before, we ran it once on Tuesday, and the time spent painstakingly figuring out my part was given over to studying for my anthro exam. However, there is hope: I know the "upbeat" audition song well, by ear. I figure, even if I do horribly on the first song, if I finish strong I might have a chance. If not, what loss is there? Keep saying that, Lyssa, keep focusing on why NOT to die. But yeah, yay for trying. Hopefully I can get someone else to help me with the first song before class. |
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