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 |   My 2nd blog. My spot for sharing my life, music, and writing with my friends. |
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Hello, Hello. Fancy seeing you here. I'll work on making this nice and pretty later. *  I also have a poetry blog, for those who dig poetry:
AND I have a mental health group with a monthly challenge:
[Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lay my hands on Heaven and the sun and the moon and the stars While the devil wants to fuck me in the back of his car ♡ * I will never make this pretty. |
Artist: Primal Scream Album: Screamadelica Song: Movin' On Up [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics  It's either Kansas or Missouri. It's hard to tell waking up in the backseat. It's all flat. "Are we in Oklahoma?" "Iowa." "What's an Iowa?" She laughs in response, looking in the rearview mirror as you sit up. Your stomach starts growling immediately. What day is it? What month is it even? You reach up and put your hand through the open passenger window. April? "Hey man, get your hand outta here," Dillon bats at you, but continues reading his comic book. Kira pulls off into a rest stop and you all get out to stretch. It's definitely May by now. A whole gaggle of kids zip around the three of you as you walk to the bathrooms, their parents close behind yelling for them to slow down. The bathrooms are clean compared to most places and you briefly think about washing off in the sink, but there's probably too many people around for that to be appropriate behavior. You slip back outside before the rest of them and grab a few pamphlets. You sleep among them as they fill up the backseat of the car. You could make a quilt of them by now. Dillon comes out next and slouches on the bench across from you. "We should go home soon. I really need to get back home." "Then go home," you suggest, pointing to a train on the front of one of the brochures. "I'm not trying to be lame. It's just we've been going going going for so long. Where are we going? Does anyone actually know where we're going?" Someone's got a complex. "Nah, I understand, man. I actually don't even know what month it is." "It's April 23rd... Maybe the 24th." "Good to know," you respond. "But will she understand?" You look up at the she in question, plodding away from the bathrooms, shaking water off her hands. She steps in something and stops to look at the bottom of her shoe, then wipes it off on the cement of the sidewalk path nearby. "Well, hey, you gotta do what gotta do." Not as reassuring as you'd like to sound. It's hard to say what you want him to do. On one hand, if he cuts it, she might too and then you don't get to wake up with her every morning. On the other hand, if she does let him go, then it's just the two of you road tripping alone. It's a wildcard, and who doesn't like a good dare? He won't do it on his own though. You already know that, so the second she gets back you say, "Dillon wants to go home." They both react at the same time. Her with a confused, "What, why?" And him with an angry, "Charlie, what the hell, man?" "That's what you told me," you tell him. People try to hide how they feel too much. They spend their whole lives dancing around each other. Just say it. That's how you feel, so say it. You watch as Dillon tries to explain the situation away. Why backpedal now? It's already out there. Eventually she sighs and twirls the car keys around her finger. She tells you both to come on and you follow her to the car, taking passenger seat the way you do when you're awake. It's a quiet ride for the next forty five minutes until she turns to look at him and says, "Airport?" You hold your breath as you wait for his response. It comes out as a meek yes and you wonder if this means what you think it means. "Charlie, can you get the map out? Try to find an airport," she requests, turning the music on. Yeah, you can. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I was blind, now I can see You made a believer out of me |
| 30DBC: Write about a time you tried to help and ended up making things worse. What did you do to correct it? What did you learn from the experience? WTMR: 6. How do you feel about meeting online friends in real life? Would you be delighted if a Writing.com friend was going to be in your area, or horrified? Have you ever met an online friend in real life? 30DBC: Sup everyone? I've been doing homework for, well, all day. I'm going to kick out an entry and go relax tonight. I have to wake up early and work tomorrow because I'm hanging out with my brother tomorrow night so we can work on one of his papers. Homework and work never end.  Let's see, a time I tried to help someone and ended up making things worse? Well, I'm pretty sure I've done this a lot of times, but I know right away the worst time. It was like six years ago and I was living with my friend during my first run in the city I live in now. He was a couple years older than me and dating this girl who he was like, head over heels in love with. I think they'd been dating since he was like sixteen and he was nineteen at the time, so a pretty good run for that age anyway. I was around her a lot too because I lived with him and she practically lived there too. I think she was still living with her parents, technically, but she spent like three or four nights a week at our house. She might as well have been living there. At some point, several months after I moved in, they started fighting a lot. They weren't getting along at all and I was pretty sure they were going to break up. He was too and he was really upset about it. I got this brilliant idea to try to talk to her because we were friends too after all. One night while she was over, they got into a huge fight in the living room and he stormed out of the house. I called him like an hour later to check on him and he told me he was going to go stay at his parents' house for the night. Cool. Well, the girl stayed there. She didn't go back to her parents' house or whatever. I was listening to music in the living room, drinking and reading or something. I think she was talking to one of her friends on the phone, complaining about him, and then she hung up. I figured it was my chance to talk to her. I have no idea why I thought I could help the situation, but we'll sum it up to being 17 and thinking I was smarter than I actually was. Not sure if you guys can tell where this story is going by now, but after talking things through with her for a couple hours, the atmosphere definitely changed. You know those long, heart-to-heart conversations where you see the person completely differently after? I guess it was like that. Anyway, in a totally drunken state, we ended up hooking up. That's like bro-code 101. You can't do that. In fact, I think that might just be human code. It's just bad. The next morning, my first thought was, "Oh fuck, what did I do?" The girl left to go back to her parents' house and I knew my friend would be home soon. It was kind of funny because I promised her that I wouldn't tell him what happened. She didn't want to hurt his feelings and probably didn't want him to break up with her either. I had talked it all out in my head and I was thinking I could totally just forget that it happened. What's the point in telling someone if it's only going to prove to hurt them? So, he walks in and he's telling me about this accident he saw on the freeway or something about a car being on fire and while he was mid-sentence, I blurted out that I'd hooked up with her. He kept telling his story for a second, then he stopped and was like, "What did you say?" I'll never forget the look on his face. Definitely not a good scene. There was nothing I could really do to correct the situation, obviously. It messed up our friendship for a really long time. We're still best friends, but even now it gets brought up occasionally. What I learned from that is to stay out of other people's relationships. I'm not sure what I thought I could do to help anyway. Now I just mind my own business and stay away from my friends' girls. You would think this wouldn't be a necessary lesson to learn, but some of us are a little slow. WTMR: I could've totally tied this into the online dating prompt a couple days ago. I've never met someone from online in real life. I'm definitely a little more paranoid than probably necessary. If someone from WDC was in my area, I wouldn't be horrified or delighted. I probably wouldn't go meet up with them, just because it's honestly like a separate thing for me. WDC friends and my real life friends are just separate in my mind. It would be really weird to bring them together. No one that I'm friends with on here is anything like my real life friends. As if I have any time to hang out anyway. Pshh.  Catch up with me in four years and we'll see. Really though, I've never really had online friends before WDC, so it's kind of a new idea to me altogether. When I started on the site, I didn't even think about the aspect of meeting people. I was surprised to find how friendly people were here. It was initially just a place I figured I'd go to write, review and get a little feedback. Now I've gotten a lot more involved in the social aspect of it and I feel like I've made a lot of actual friends on here.It's pretty cool. I don't know about meeting online people in real life, but it is an interesting thought. |
Artist: CHVRCHES Album: The Bones of What You Believe Song: The Mother We Share [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics You step inside, half expecting to implode upon entrance. You haven't been inside one in so long. You almost make a joke about it, but realize quickly that it's not the right time. The red carpet greets you and you're quickly ushered into the pew-filled room. Rows and rows of people you've never seen before. You see what you assume are his parents standing at the head of the room next to the casket. Your eyes transfix on it and you turn to leave. You shouldn't have come anyway. Jordan grabs your arms as you try to leave and asks where you're going. You just shake your head in response, but follow him to the back left of the room where a few of your other friends are sitting. They stick out like a sore thumb. None of you should be here. You sit and cup your hands, staring down at the floor. The room is full of energy, people moving around. Family who probably haven't seen each other since he was a kid. Some people cry, others laugh with each other as they look at the slideshow full of his pictures. Music he would never listen to is playing over the intercom. Neutral as elevator music but much more somber. Dak tries to get you to look at the poster boards someone has set up with more pictures of him. How photographed was he? You shake your head no and avert your eyes. You can't look at his smiling, healthy face. You pull at your tie and realize that your friends are wearing t-shirts and jeans. It's debatable whether they're disrespectful or you're just trying too hard. People make their way to the front of the room in small groups, offering their condolences and saying their goodbyes. You wonder who they all are, if he had talked about them at some point, or if he'd be just as lost as you. After what seems like hours, Jordan suggests that you go up and say goodbye. You say no immediately, feeling like you're about to get sick. Everyone else tells you they already did; it'll be okay. They smile assuringly, unaffected. This is the stat quo for this lifestyle. Jordan says you'll regret it if you don't and you know that. You've been around the block. Your legs feel like jello, shaking beneath you as you walk to the front of the room which feels miles. It seems like everyone is looking at you. What do they know? You shake away the paranoia in time for a few elderly people to walk away from his parents. So, this is them. "Our condolences," Jordan says, and you're grateful that he does because you probably couldn't have said anything. "He was a great friend to all of us. He's really going to be missed." His mother looks pleasant enough, with a blond-dyed, hair-sprayed bob. Her eyes are red-rimmed with dark bags beneath, that betray her wide smile. "We're so happy you could all make it. It's what he would have wanted." She looks lovingly at the casket, which you refuse to acknowledge. "And you're...?" She focuses her attention on you and you immediately think of lying, but stop yourself. "Charlie," you reply, and watch her facial expression change. Briefly, yes, but it changes. "Oh, Charlie! He spoke of you so much. You two must have been close." "He talked about you too," you say and it comes out way weird, accusatory somehow. It's not a lie. He just didn't have anything good to say. "I'm sorry for your loss." "And your loss too," she says, looking at the casket again as her eyes fill up with tears. His dad is talking to someone in the front row and they shake hands before he walks over. "Oh, honey. This, this is Charlie." He eyes you and it's painfully obvious. They know. They know who you are. "Charlie, yes, we've heard about you." "I'm sorry for your loss," you repeat. It's the only sentence that seems to want to work right now. "So am I," he says. Stern, just as he was described to you. You let your eyes wander for the first time to the casket and there he is. Hands folded nicely, something he would never do. But he looks peaceful, happy. He looks relaxed. You start to back away and Jordan doesn't try to stop you this time as you head to the back of the church, out into the carpeted hallway and out the double doors into the chilly fall air. You breathe it in and try not to fall apart in the parking lot. It's a nice day. It's refreshing, and he looked relaxed. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Into the night for once, we’re the only ones left I bet you even know, where we could go-o-oh And when it all fucks up, you put your head in my hands It’s a souvenir for when you go-o-oh |
Artist: Bright Eyes Album: Lifted or The Story Is In The Soil, Keep Your Ear to the Ground Song: Don't Know When But A Day Is Gonna Come [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics The phone's been ringing for hours, or days, or maybe just a minute. It's hard to tell as you lay in bed watching the shadows of headlights dance along the walls. The answering machine picks up again and her voice comes through, full of empty threats, its shaky fear betraying its purpose. She's saying all those those things with emphasis like, "you BETTER" and "right now" or "this instant". It's not that the phone's far away or particularly difficult to get to at the moment. It's more that her voice is like nails on ice or Charlie Brown's teacher. WhaaWhaaWhaa When everyone comes over the next day, the phone is still ringing and someone mentions that you've missed a few calls. You respond by taking it off the hook and letting the dial tone just hum out into the party. That works. Why didn't you think of it before? Noah stays around to help clean and you ask what day it is. Sunday. Sunday at two o'clock. You've missed Mass. You tell him he better go because they'll probably be home soon and they'll be pissed. He says you should probably go with him until things cool off, but that's not really an option. Instead, you spend the next couple hours getting things into acceptable shape before finally passing out on the bed with your jeans and shoes on still. Typical fashion. You wake up to the door being thrown open into the wall behind it. There was a door stopper there at one point, but the door probably got slammed into it so many times, it grew legs and walked away. Even inanimate objects get sick of the abuse. You try to roll onto your back to get up, but he grabs your ankle before you have a chance and rips you from the bed on one fell swoop. You hit the floor hard and hear her screaming from the hallway telling both of you to stop. "What is wrong with you?" he demands. "You stay in my house while I'm not here and don't even bother to answer the phone? Do you have any idea how many times your mother called you? She's been worried sick. What is wrong with you?" You're quick to get up and watch as he rips the black window curtain open. The sun burns your eyes. When was the last time you saw it. He demands that you look at him and he grabs your jaw with one hand, lifting your chin. Examining. "This kid is higher than a damn kite." He turns to your mother standing in the doorway and with an accusatory glare says. "What now? What's your brilliant plan now?" "No, I'm not," you interrupt if only to get his attention off her and he turns quickly to face you again. You flinch instinctively. He backs away, looking completely confused by the entire situation. "I'm going out and when I get back, you better be gone." He points at you with the last four words and pushes past your mother who looks as though she's observing an exhibit through glass. The second you hear the front door slam, you jump into action, grabbing a bag and tossing some clothes and your journal inside. She's been suddenly rejuvenated too, the thousand yard stare vanished from her face. "You don't have to go, Charlie. You can stay here. I'll talk to him." You laugh and continue grabbing your stuff. It's not funny because he wouldn't listen to her; it's funny because she just had a chance to and stood in the doorway like a shaking child. You head out to the kitchen and grab the phone. What do you know, you can communicate through it. Noah picks up on the second ring and immediately asks if you're okay. You could wait inside where there's air conditioning and a comfortable couch, but you figure it's better to walk down the street and wait there, just in case he decides to come back sooner than you're gone. Sitting on the curb, you can't help but laugh to yourself. How many times have you been kicked out in the last six months? You've stayed with Noah more than you have your parents. It'll blow over, of course. This isn't that big of a deal even. You place bets with yourself. Three days tops. Nah, man, I'm feeling a week easy, maybe two. Noah offers you a cigarette right away and waits for you to talk on your way to the trailer. You don't, of course. You've both done this enough times to know there isn't much to say. The trip is quiet, but the breeze is nice from your rolled down window. It smells like freedom. This isn't so bad. "Is there a reason you were ignoring your parents while they were gone?" he asks finally. You shrug. "I didn't have anything to say." There's another long stretch of silence, but after he parks and before you head inside, he makes sure to stop you and tell you for the hundredth time that everything's going to be okay. It already feels okay. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** And you think I need some discipline, well, I had my share Now, I've been sent to my room, I've been sat in a chair And I held my tongue, I didn't plug my ears No, I got a good talking to |
| 30DBC: Open mic night prompt. Write about whatever you want. All I ask is that you have fun with it. Enjoy! WTMR: We all have traits that have been passed on to us, whether they are physical traits, personality traits, mannerisms, etc. Tell us about at least one trait that was passed on to you, who it came from and how you feel about it. BLOG CITY: Fame. What do you think fame does to people in regard to to ambition and ego, especially when it is found and then when it is lost? Does a person’s life turn dark, weird, and funny, as it does in the Oscar-winner movie Birdman about a washed-up actor trying to make a comeback? 30DBC: Are you sure you wanna give me the freedom to talk about whatever I want to talk about today? I'm not so sure that's a good idea because I'm about to go into a rant of epic proportions. Children and offendables, look away!  I cannot fucking stand therapy. Sorry if you are a therapist or therapist enthusiast, but goddamn. I've had a couple decent ones, but for the most part, they just get on my nerves. You go in and they "get to know you" for a couple sessions. The whole time they're proposing these annoying questions like, "Do you think X has an effect on Y?" I'm not fucking stupid. I know basic cause and effect logic. And it's the way that they ask the questions. Like, they're trying to make you think that it's your idea to say certain things and not theirs. I mean, do people seriously fall for that stuff? Like you're going to have a sudden epiphany based on some realization that they made you think you had on your own? Doesn't work on me. I've been in and out of therapy since I was like eight. I spent my formative years in therapy so it drives me fucking bonkers when I go in and they think they can tell me how I feel or pinpoint all my problems down to some minuscule part of my childhood. They get these weird-ass obsessions with like one thing you said and they keep going back to it over and over again. It's like, could just not? I know, I know. Why go to therapy then? Well, because it's marriage counselling, I kind of have to do it unless I want to get a divorce. Have you ever done therapy with another person? It's such a mess. Like, you can't talk directly to the other person. You have to go through the therapist. So it's like, "Charlie's an asshole." And then the therapist says, "I think what Kira is trying to say is that she's been hurt by your actions." What the fuck? Stop trying sugarcoat things. I'm sitting three inches away from her. I can hear what she's saying. Then when it reverses, it's the most frustrating thing ever. "I think what Charlie is trying to say is that he feels abandoned." When the fuck did I say that? Not only did I not say that, but I also didn't imply that and definitely do not feel that way. I don't know where they get the shit they say from, but I feel like they just pull it out of thin air. Sometimes it's like when you're sitting in class and someone isn't paying attention, then they get called on to answer something and their response is hilarious and incoherent. That's my experience with family therapy except it's not hilarious, it's just highly frustrating. Whew, I feel a little bit better now. I hope you do too. Ah, I'm not giving up on it yet. I'm just venting. It's good to vent, right? Hopefully at some point we'll actually get somewhere with it instead of just going in circles. We'll see how the 'homework' goes.  WTMR: I had a lot of traits passed onto me by my parents. My mother gave me her terrible eyesight. I look nothing like my dad. I'm not even sure if I'm his real kid. We do both have blue eyes, but so does my ma. I have a lot of my dad's personality traits though. People say that's probably why we don't get on too well. We're both super emotional and have short tempers, but we're also both the sensitive, sentimental type. That means we can be the sweetest people ever and also the meanest all within a few minutes. It's like a magic trick!Being super emotional is both good and bad though. My older brother had a pretty big grudge against my dad and doesn't really talk to him much. It's not that he specifically says, "I'm not talking to him", he just doesn't. His actions speak loud and clear. I try to recognize and give credit for the efforts people make. If I see that someone is trying, it's really hard for me to turn my back on them. I think that's why my dad and I still talk. We have that same personality attribute. Even though we can't get along, neither one of us can walk away either. To me, that's a good thing. You have to have forgiveness and appreciation for people, even when things haven't worked out in the past. That's one personality trait I'm not disappointed to have from him. From my mother, I got a strong will. If I set my mind to something, it's going to happen for the most part. There are a couple areas of my life where I have little to no control, but in the rest, I'm very self-disciplined. At this point, it's completely reasonable for me to do homework for 4 hours when I wake up, work for six hours, then do homework for another four. That's pretty much my every day routine right now. That's why I've been so shoddy at reviewing lately. I've given a deplorable 9 reviews in the last month. Those who know me around the site know that's like a sixth of my typical monthly average. Luckily, both my homework and work work is done on my laptop, so I can still hang out and chat with people or comment on a blog here and there. I've actually been doing my blog entries at like 2 in the morning while I'm laying in bed and can't sleep. That's so not the point I was trying to get at. What I was saying is that my mother has worked super hard her whole life, both in educating herself and moving up in her line of work. She's extremely self-disciplined in that way. She got her master's degree with three kids while working full-time, which is pretty impressive to me. She spent 12 hours every Saturday doing homework at the library and worked Monday through Friday. I think I'm like that with work and school. I put a ridiculous amount of time into both because it's something in my life that I can have control over. However I choose to do it, I can always follow through and deliver. BLOG CITY: See, this is a tough one because I really feel like people are all different and would react different to gaining or losing fame. I think some people can fade into the shadows and others just lose their minds. You never hear about the ones who fade out because they don't make the headlines later as doing something completely crazy or getting arrested. I haven't seen this Birdman movie, but I feel like I should because I've been hearing about it a lot the last couple days. I really like Edward Norton, so I'd probably like the movie. I'm not sure in what way his life is dark or funny in the movie. I think it would be really weird to be famous at one time and then fade out into not being famous at all. Even stranger though would be getting famous for some silly fad and then having no one know who you are a year later. We see it a lot in our current society because it's so easy to get famous for a minute. That would be weird though because your life would be like: not famous, not famous, INSANELY FAMOUS, not famous... |
Artist: A-ha Album: Hunting High And Low Song: Take On Me [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics It's an 80s-themed party and the idea of it makes you laugh before you even get there. As if there's ever a party that shouldn't have a kickin' 80s playlist. Walking down the street with Isaac, you wonder why it doesn't cool off even at night. It's at least eighty-five or ninety out at ten o'clock. "Why is it so hot?" you complain. "Because, it's south Texas. It's always hot. Wait until December when it's 80 degrees on your birthday." "If it's an 80s themed party, there should be a lot of coke, right?" Isaac laughs. "I'm not sure. Kira said I'm not supposed to let you do anything stupid though so try to be chill." "I hope there's a mountain of coke." "Scarface level?" "Scarface level," you confirm. Your irritation with the heat is quickly turned to admiration when you walk up to the house and see all the girls in neon spandex and Jane Fonda workout clothes. "Goddamn, I love the South!" You walk into "Tainted Love" and head straight for the kitchen, the first stop at any house party. The host is one of Isaac's friends that you've never met. You grab a drink and start talking to some of the people hanging out in there. A party is your natural habitat. You can make and lose friends within seconds. The atmosphere is super hype and everyone's having a good time, singing along to the eighties songs. Someone mentions that everyone knows all these songs, but no one actually knows what they're called or who they're by. You argue that you could probably name every song and artist on the playlist and he laughs. "Yeah right. You're like fifteen. You probably don't even know who Journey is." "I'm nineteen." The challenge is on and you spend the rest of the night telling him the bands and song names. When you pass each other in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. Here I Go Again by Whitesnake. Smoking outside with the music blaring through the windows. Need You Tonight by INXS. Sitting on the couch sharing a joint. I Ran So Far Away by A Flock of Seagulls. It quickly becomes a race of who can say the song fastest when it starts. "Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money!" Jinx. Fast friends are the coolest friends. Kindred souls. He even starts complaining about the lack of coke. "I thought this was an 80s party." You'll be seeing a lot of him. It's your first friend in Texas who you didn't meet through Kira. Meeting her friends is cool, but it's hard to get that close to them because you can't really be yourself around them. You're not even super comfortable around her yet and then you add in her friends who are biased and overly opinionated about everything. Isaac, the least of all of them, but even he seems overly protective of her. Ethan isn't like that though. He's neutral. Refreshing. At around one in the morning, way too early, Isaac comes around and says it's time to go. Surely some sort of curfew he's been given by your non-girlfriend girlfriend. You give Ethan your number so you can hang out again. Sometimes you try to pick up a girl and you accidentally pick up a guy friend. Shit happens. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** Talking away I don't know what I'm to say I'll say it anyway Today isn't my day to find you Shying away I'll be coming for your love, ok |
| 30DBC: We live in an age where you can do anything and everything on the internet. You can purchase airline tickets, buy clothing, electronics, even groceries online. There’s even online dating. What are your thoughts? Have you ever/would you ever try online dating? Do you think it’s a better way to meet people or are you skeptical or leery of it? Tell us your thoughts and/or experiences with it. WTMR: 5. Do you know what your next piece of writing will be? Do you plan things ahead of time, or just write when you're inspired? BLOG CITY: Utopia and Dystopia are imagined worlds in which humanity lives in the worst possible or best possible conditions. If you were to write about either, which one would you choose and what would your version of that world look like? OMG, Cinn, look! 30DBC: Online dating is one of those things I haven't really explored. I didn't have internet from the time I was sixteen until I was twenty-one or so. I feel like a lot happened with those online dating sites from '07 to '12. I know they existed before then, but I feel like they've become more mainstream in the last several years. Once I did get internet in my house, I was with Kira, so not really looking to date people online or get to know anyone like that. I may not be perfect, but I definitely don't seek out people like that when I'm in a relationship. I am sort of leery of the idea of online dating. For me, I mean, not for other people. It's actually more for the other person's sake than my own. The people who have known me really well for like a year on here know that I can be extremely difficult to deal with. I've been told that directly by some of them, and I completely understand that. If you have told me that, don't worry, I'm just using it as a reference point to back up what I'm about to say. I feel like it would be unfair for me to meet someone off the internet for a date when I could easily present myself as being a certain way that isn't true to who I am. For example, my brothers have both done the online dating thing. One of them is in a long term relationship from a girl he met on a dating website. The other one meets girls a lot on those sites and they'll talk for a week, then go on a date. I don't feel like I could do that because there are things that are fairly evident about me from a face-to-face conversation that I could easily hide in an online dating profile. I feel like people lie on those so often. I've seen some of them from my brother and it's just so obvious that people are being plastic. They're being robotic and saying what they think their preferred match would like to hear or what will make them sound interesting/cool. You can't do that as much in person. We don't walk around with lists of our likes/dislikes, turn ons/turn offs, etc.. pinned to our shirts. If I meet a girl at a bookstore, I have no idea what she's into, other than possibly books of some sort. I have no idea if she's going to be okay with someone like me as a person, let alone as a potential boyfriend. If I meet the same girl and her profile says she loves Twilight and hates drugs/alcohol/smoking. Now I know what's acceptable to her before even speaking. Now I know how to conduct myself when we're talking online and on our first few dates before slowing letting who I really am seep into the relationship after she's too emotionally caught up to back out. To those of you wondering at this point, what kind of person would do that...? Well, I don't know the answer to that. I'm not saying I would do this; I'm saying I could do this. That alone is enough to make me uncomfortable. If I talk to someone every day for a year straight, I'm going to start showing my true colors at some point, but I don't know how I feel about knowing someone's opinion on a million different things from a dating website rather than from personal interactions with them. Don't get me wrong though. I know that people meet each other on dating websites all the time and things can work out really well that way. People who do the online talking portion longer can get to know each other for who they are instead of rushing into a physical relationship. It's easier to see how well your life views and the other person's life views match up when you're talking on the Internet or phone for hours at the beginning of the relationship. I have no issue with people meeting and dating this way. I think it makes sense and it's convenient with all of the technology we have these days. Even though I think it can work really well for people, it's just not for me because I'm a pretty awful person. I can see myself even subconsciously altering my behavior just because I read that the person was into people who were a certain way. Yeah, it's not going to work in the long run, but if all you're looking for is to get laid a few times, the person just handed you a golden ticket. Note to self: No internet dating sites for you. Ever. WTMR: Other than my blog posts, I never know what my next piece of writing will be. I don't ever force myself to write. I know that people say if you have writer's block, you should just force yourself to write for five or ten minutes about everything and nothing. I've done that several times with a success rate of maybe 25% as far actually getting the creative juices flowing. For me though, I consider myself to be a very casual writer. It's a hobby and nothing more. My hobbies are what I do when I want to release stress, so I won't put stress on myself to do them. It sort of defeats their entire purpose. I can easily go two months without writing a poem and then I'll write one every day for a week and go another month without writing any. I'm always writing something whether it's a blog, short story, poem, monologue, prose, journal, or something else. I just don't force myself to do it. If I'm not feeling it, I have no problem with walking away for the day. I don't get down on myself about it because it's not like I'm done writing forever. When the mood strikes and I'm inspired, I try to take advantage of it and write as much as I can. Other than that, I don't get down about not feeling it and I definitely don't plan out when/what I'm going to write. BLOG CITY: Cinn and I were just talking about this yesterday, sort of, so it's really strange that it's the Blog City prompt today. She was telling me about this movie she watched called Logan's Run. Here's a quick storyline courtesy of IMDB :It's 2274 and on the surface, it all seems to be an idyllic society. Living in a city within an enclosed dome, there is little or no work for humans to perform and inhabitants are free to pursue all of the pleasures of life. There is one catch however: your life is limited and when you reach 30, it is terminated in a quasi-religious ceremony known as Carousel. I think we had a prompt somewhere about this. It was something about whether we'd be happy and die young or, wait no, it was whether we'd be good looking and die young or hideous and live forever. Do you guys remember? It was something... Anyway, then she was telling about the book Brave New World. I've heard of it, but I've never really read much in the dystopian genre except 1984. I'm not going to say what Ky was saying about it because I have no idea if she'd be cool with that or not. I mean, I think she would be, but I'll just go with my thoughts on it. So here is a synopsis of the book courtesy of goodreads :Far in the future, the World Controllers have created the ideal society. Through clever use of genetic engineering, brainwashing and recreational sex and drugs, all its members are happy consumers. Bernard Marx seems alone harbouring an ill-defined longing to break free. A visit to one of the few remaining Savage Reservations, where the old, imperfect life still continues, may be the cure for his distress... I know that this is supposed to be a scary thought, but it actually sounds awesome to me. I want to live my life in a certain way. I want to have my cake and eat it too, to be trite, but I can't because society doesn't agree with my viewpoint. I still have to work a job that I don't want to work. I still have to play by certain rules, but I don't get to do any of the fun parts without being looked down upon. So a world where I have to do the same job, but I'm rewarded with string-free sex with multiple partners AND awesome drugs. Is this even a question? I'd sign up right now. Anyway, that's as close to a utopia as I can imagine. I'm definitely going to read the book now too. Thanks for the reco, Ky. |
| 30DBC: What is/was the best vacation you have ever been on? If you can’t narrow it down to one, write about a vacation that you hope to take someday; something from your bucket list. 30DBC: What up, ya'll? Hope your Sunday is going awesome and all that stuff. I just finished this weird ass assignment for my College Studies course. It was about identifying your culture and you had to answer all these questions that it doesn't seem like they'd be allowed to ask. There was like race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, socioeconomic class, etc... I mean, that's weird, right? Why would that matter at all. It was like a fill in the bubble assignment either, it was one you had to write out. I just kept saying that I was undecided on all of them. It's only worth 10 points anyway, but how pointless. I'm not sure why it matters if I'm into girls or guys or both. Maybe I'll fuck anything that moves?  I'm trying to figure out what this class is supposed to be teaching me.Anyway, I better move on so I can finish the rest of my stuff that's due tonight. Vacations, vacations, hmm. See, the word vacation it's strange to me because I don't think most of my traveling has been done under those circumstances. I don't think riding state-to-state in a car because you don't have a house is considered vacation. Vacation sort of implies that you're leaving something behind that you'll come back to after a predetermined period of time.When I was younger, we mostly traveled around the state for vacations. There's so much to do in Maine. It kind of has everything you need. My family was big into hunting/fishing/camping because there were 4 boys in the family. I was never really into the hunting/fishing part. In fact, I refused to do either because I didn't want to hurt the animals. Even from a young age, I would bring books or paper so I could write/draw in the boat while everyone else fished. What can I say? Not my style.I remember going to the Chicago area a lot to visit family because that's where both of my parents grew up and they still had a lot of family there. We would usually do a three state run in the Midwest. Illinois, Indiana, and Kentucky because that's where the family was spread out. Those weren't super fun trips though because the car ride was ridiculously long and then we didn't even get to anything when we go there except visit with family I only saw once every couple years. Probably good to keep up with people, but meh, so boring. The one trip I remember being a lot of fun was a two-weeker. My ma and I flew to Arizona and my brothers and father went to Wisconsin or somewhere like that. Maybe Minnesota? They went out on a houseboat and fished for two weeks. My mother and I had gone with them once and when they mentioned it again I was like, fuck that, not going. There were spiders crawling all over the houseboat, so I couldn't sleep because spiders are disgusting. I was a pampered kid. I refused to get dirty and my dad hated it so much. Anyway, we flew out to Arizona where my mother has some aunts and cousins. I spent the two weeks hanging out with my second or third cousins and we went to this huge waterpark a few times. It was so hot, the dead of summer, so it was like 110 every day. It was a lot of fun though, mostly because it was just me and mum so I didn't have to deal with my dad bitching about me being too prissy or whatever, which is how most of our family vacations went. We went shopping and when we got back, I was super tan and had a bunch of new clothes. I'm sure that made my dad super happy! I don't care, I'm still prissy as fuck. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯   OH! I also want to thank the person/people who nominated my stuff for Quills. The three poems that got nominated made finalist!!  If you've got a minute, can you go vote in the polls? I have three poems in here in the "Dark" category: "Invalid Item" And then my old blog "Invalid Item" is up for "Drama/Emotional" here: "Invalid Item" The polls close at 11:59pm TONIGHT!!! So, this is kinda your last chance to do it and I'd totally appreciate it.  |
Artist: Dead To Me Album: Little Brother Song: Don't Wanna [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics It's hot. Too hot to breathe kind of hot. You say it's hot and the girl you're walking with says thanks. Unsure of whether she's joking or just misheard you, it's best to stay quiet. You walk past the bus stop and she runs into some girl she knows wearing a green apron, the universal sign of a barista. She introduces you as her friend, Charlie, and you shake hands. It's all so cordial for a hundred degree day where steam rises off the asphalt in shimmering waves. You feel like a child waiting for her to hurry up and move on. Can we go yet? Oh the things children can get away with. Finally they break free and you're headed back down the street. A few stray cats run across the sidewalk in front of you and she stops again to go chase after them because they are SO cute. You would tell her it's hot again, but she might take it as a compliment. You keep walking and she catches up quickly laughing about you "Northern boys" and your heat intolerance. You turn on the shady, tree-lined street you've come to call Home. Someone stole your spare key at some point and never gave it back before they moved out, so you're stuck waiting on the porch until Kira gets home. The girl sits on the front steps with you and offers up a cigarette. It doesn't take long for Kira's car to pull up and park on the street. She walks up and you half-introduce the two, but she just heads for the door and lets herself in. You catch up with her in the kitchen after saying bye to your friend. She's putting groceries in the refrigerator so you grab a water and sit down on the windowsill. You watch her put things away and wonder why she puts peanut butter in the refrigerator, until you remember that it would melt in a cabinet. She breaks the silence first. "You sleeping with her?" The question almost makes you laugh. "Would you care if I was?" "Would you be honest if I did?" she shoots back. Touché. "I guess not." Typical circular conversation with an undefined relationship. She goes back to putting away the food. "She just doesn't seem like your type." "Why not?" You ask, genuinely curious. "Too much makeup for a hot day, like a beauty queen snowman. 'I'm melting! I'm melting!'" She mocks, grabbing her face dramatically. You both laugh at that and she offers to make lunch so you can go take a shower and cool off. As quick as it opened, the conversation is closed. Until next time, of course. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** I don't wanna, I don't wanna go If I stay we'll fall to pieces. Let's do it again, do it all again. I'm banking on the fact that you won't give a fuck and you'll fall back asleep as the days go by |
Artist: Led Zeppelin Album: Led Zeppelin Song: Good Times Bad Times [Embed For Use By Upgraded+] Lyrics She claimed that everyone at the airport was rude, "A bunch of assholes, all of them!" but you've had nothing but pleasant experiences from check in to security to the flight attendants. Your flight attendant is named Rachel and she reminds you of someone you used to know. Halfway through the flight, she brought around cups of ice and cans of soda. You took one earbud out to thank her and went back to listening to music. A woman across the aisle is gripping a pendant of some sort and praying. She's been a nervous wreck since the plan started taxiing the runway. You saw her mouth forming the same word over and over, Please. Please. Please. You thought about telling her everything would be fine, but then you thought she might get offended, so you just stayed quiet. She seemed to calm down for a while and started reading O magazine using the overhead light. It reflected off the glossed pages and kept messing with your eyes as you tried to catch a few minutes of sleep. Now that the city lights were below, she'd started the praying again and rocking back and forth ever so slightly. You could almost hear her nervousness over the music. A kid behind you kicks your sit and you think something ridiculous like, Who takes a kid on a midnight airplane flight? The lights get closer and closer, starting across the aisle and then they're on your side. The seatbelt light flips on and there's an announcement over the speaker about the descent. You get out as soon as you're allowed, partly because you want to see Kira and partly because you want to get away from the aviophobiac. The airport is big and confusing. It seems like a lot of circles with a million floors. As soon as you find your bag, you grab the first exit. The cold air shocks your sense and you think of how funny it would be if you'd gotten on the wrong plane. Surely south Texas should be warmer, even in February. All you'd heard was how humid and muggy it always was. Kira shows up about five minutes later and there's this awkward moment where you're not sure if you should hug or kiss or possibly... shake hands? Do nothing? She makes the decision for you, running up and throwing her arms around you. Typical airport scene. Someone honks their horn because the two of you are blocking the road. You both flip him off at the same time and then laugh at the synchronicity. In the car on the way to her house, she warns you about people. "Dillon probably won't like you at first, but don't worry, he'll come around." You stare out the window, mesmerized by the buildings. Taking in a new city always leaves you contemplative, thinking about how small you are in comparison. You look at the sky. No stars. Light pollution. You're used to it by now. "You're so quiet. Everything okay?" she presses. "I'm looking at the buildings." She gives you a weird look but keeps driving through downtown and a little past it. She parks on the street outside of a two-story brown brick house. "Welcome home!" Home is the two bedroom, one bathroom upstairs section. Kira has her own room, but there are a few people living in the living room. You already knew all of this. It can't be worse than what you're used to. You run into someone on the way up the stairs and Kira briefly introduces the two of you. The guy nods in your direction and runs down the stairs. You'll get used to that- people scurrying around like rodents. Her bedroom is kind of cool though, in a weird sort of way, with black doors and red walls. It's like a dungeon of some sort. The hardwood floors are nice though and the windows are the huge thick glass ones that crank open and closed with a handle. She puts on some goth record like Sisters of Mercy or Fields of the Nephilim. "It's so weird that you're here. It's like a sleepover," she says excitedly. "What should we do first?" "Sleep?" The best suggestion you can give. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** In the days of my youth, I was told what it means to be a man Now I've reached that age, I've tried to do all those things the best I can No matter how I try, I find my way into the same old jam |
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I'm still so confused. How did they get to senior-level finance with so little know-how. I don't get it. 
People definitely tend to jump straight to the worst conclusion when any problem arises, which is why you so frequently hear, "My computer is broken!" when there's really a simple fix. 
Just why. It's so gross. We need to get you some personal finance help! This is only tangentially related and not a statement on you, but one of the nonprofits I work with consists of me making budget plans for people who were recently homeless and have just gotten back on their feet. A lot of the people I work with have only been at their job for less than a month or been in an apartment for a week or two. My role is to gather all of their financial information and then consult with them on their bills, disposable income, purchases, and stuff like that. It's shocking to see the financial decisions people make after just being homeless. I'm like, dude, you were just homeless 2 weeks ago. 
I have seen so much of the disasters it has caused with some people. I have in the past been unconsciously roped into financial situations that were most unpleasant and having to make sensible plans to unravel them.