My Lord..

This is going to be a hell of a lot more difficult than I thought it would be.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I'm not perfect. I'm not the perfect daughter. But I sure as hell not this worthless piece of shit that I'm told I am every day. Every single day. And they wonder why I'm so depressed, and sullen, and why I never want to be in the house. For being intelligent, they are rather stupid. I try my hardest to make them happy. But, it's never enough, and they claim I don't try at all.
As if today wasn't hard enough for other reasons, I had to come home to this. Maybe I am worthless.

Another Dream.

So, I had this dream last night. And it's still driving me crazy. It was rather short.


*Did you know?
That technically, dreams are no longer than 20 seconds long? It just seems longer in your head. But anywho...


This dream. It started out almost like a nightmare. It was rather terrifying, actually. But then, when things were at their worst, the mood of the dream changed drastically. It involved a slight hole in a blue shirt, on a broad shoulder. A light touch, a comforting smile, and a distraction to keep my mind off of the terror. He couldn't believe that I was so afraid, but he just didn't understand. They were coming for us. Or maybe he did, and it was all part of his clever plan to calm me down. And it worked. That short, sweet distance, hand in hand, made all the difference. Until my bloody alarm went off. If only I had a few more minutes.


When I woke up, I felt weird. But, it was a really good type of weird. I don't know how to explain it other than... euphoric. All day long, I've been replaying that dream. Over and over and over. I don't want to let it go. So, I figured I'd blog about it. A way to document it so that I won't forget. I really don't want to forget.

How many people do you know?

That spend the day with their best friend? Quite a lot.
How many take a walk with their best friend, make smoothies, and eat broccoli bites? All of them, right? Or maybe they would be, if they weren't all completely baked or shwasted 90% of the time.


I wonder if outsiders think we're weird. I hope so.

I love...

Love, love, love, love, love eating Chinese takeout right out of the container... when I'm home alone. So my mother doesn't yell at me for picking the peas out of my fried rice.

Procreation Run Amok.

The Duggars. What's to say? Let's start off with some info, in case you've never heard of them. They are a family. The Dad's name is Jim-Bob (are you surprised, really?) and all the kids' names begin with "J". All nineteen of their children. Yepp, all ninteen. 
Joshua, Jana, John-David, Jill, Jessa, Jinger (stretching it there a bit), Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jeremiah, Jedidiah, Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, Jennifer, Jordyn-Grace, etc. And both parents say they'd 'love to have more'. 

Now. Before all of you people out there get all jacked up and start composing your "every child is a gift" comments let me say: Settle down.

This is not a judgement on Michelle and Jim-Bob.

So if birth control is just not an option, (do you think they've ever heard of it?) I just think...Michelle maybe needs a little help - girl-to-girl - on saying... No. 

And so I have composed a list of excuses for her to use, when the situation arises (that's you, Jim-Bob).

1. I have a headache.

2. I have to wash my hair.

3. I have to style my hair into a poufy mullet.

4. I have swine flu.

5. I'm gay.

6. One of our 19 children might hear us.

7. There are no more names that start with 'J' left.

8. My lady-ness is stretched out to the size of a Hyundai.

Just saying.

AND
I have some "J' words for you, Jim-Bob: 
Jam your Jaunty Jackrabbit Junk into a condom. Jesus.
(Sorry, Jesus)

Jaw Lines.

Is it weird that I love them? Okay. Maybe I don't obsess, but I just really really like them. Like Robert Pattinson here. His is nice. It's one of the first things I look for when I meet someone. How strange am I?

Your Subconscious.

Ever since I saw the movie Inception, I have been completely frazzled by the whole idea of dreaming and the subconscious mind. In the daylight world, we go to school or work, we eat, do the shopping, build relationships with other people, etc. Essentially, we do the work of creating and maintaining our lives. But at night, in sleep, we enter a world that may resemble the waking world of mundane reality, or it may be a world that is medieval or futuristic or something else entirely; time becomes completely distorted; and we meet a host of characters including faces that are familiar, faces that are not, and faces that look like they have risen from the pages of books on mythological creatures. And all of this happens because of your subconscious. It stores all your previous life experiences, your belief system, your memories, you skills, all situations you've been through, and all images you've ever seen, even if you don't remember seeing them. It boggles my mind, and I just bought a book revolving completely around the subconscious mind. Needless to say, I'm super excited to read it. 

Romeo and Juliet.

It get's me every time. No matter how many times I watch/read it. And yet, I love it. We all know the story. 
An idle passion between a boy and a girl, who have scarcely seen and can have but little sympathy or rational esteem for one another, who have had no experience of the good or bad in life, and whose raptures or despair must be therefore equally groundless and fantastical. From an overall perspective, it is somewhat silly. I am probably one of the very few people my age who truly love Shakespeare and all his works, including Romeo and Juliet. I don't know what exactly it is, but the emotion that I feel from it is so powerful, and I just can't get enough. Maybe I'm crazy? Oh well. 

Hmm. :)

Discovery.

What if there was nothing to discover? 
No story, no thousand words, no answer to a non-riddle? 
What if it was really just a game of forms and colors?
Would it be a sin?
Does a person really need a past?
Is it really so bad for something to be "just" a pretty picture?
We know of the danger of beauty, we know the seductive spectacle means flirting with submission, yet is it really so immoral?

The little things.

It's kind of crazy how the tiniest little thing, no matter how insignificant to everyone else in the world, can make your entire day. Especially when it's completely unexpected. It may be slightly pathetic also, but who really cares?

I feel like...

I feel like dancing. I feel like listening to crazy music. And to move however I feel. It's probably a bit exaggerated. P" title="">robably untenable. But to be so free. That does not confuse me. T\hat delight in every individual movement. Dancing with my eyes closed. And I imagine that everything is as I want. I dedicate it all to the music. It's not exactly mature, but I want to do it.