While skimming Facebook I saw an article about a few dogs that had been left out in their kennel over night during this awfully freezing weather. The title said the citizens that could hear the dogs crying were “demanding” punishment. Even though I agree that leaving the animals out in freezing temps is wrong, especially if you own them and have a place to put them, I wonder what right anybody has to “demand” anything of someone else. The animals have no voice (technically) so a human must speak for them. I can see that. But I am reminded of another article about Shaming. With the internet and social mediaa it is so easy to find some mistake a person made and to blow it out and “demand” action be taken to correct the slight. In the article it talks about a woman who was going to Africa and made a rather insensitive joke on Twitter about AIDS. While on the plain to Africa someone found the tweet and mass produced it so much that by the end of her flight people wanted her fired and destroyed basically. Her tweet was for her followers originally; she probably didn’t have more than 100. No one else was meant to see it, but because of a few re-tweets the world saw it and demanded blood. Why? Because someone made a joke in poor taste that wasn’t a comedian? It’s like when you pas a note to your friend in school and the teacher catches you and makes you read it in front of the whole class. It wasn’t meant for them to hear. It was meant for a specific audience. What business does anyone have getting all worked up over anything someone was just trying to pass to their friends? It’s bullying on a mass scale. Anyone in any kind of service industry (and I lump ALL services from fast food to Doctors) knows that your humor turns a little dark after dealing with so many confrontations and questionable circumstances. I have a few friends that are nurses and sometimes the things they say do shock me, but I don’t work their job. They have to have some sense of humor or they would never last. So yes it turns a little dark and a little insensitive to my taste, but for them it’s how they cope. Who am I to judge how they cope as long as their job is done well? I certainly could not be in their stead, so just let them make their jokes. People get so angry of the silliest things.
I love ribbons. If I weren’t 25 I would wear them in my hair everyday. I collect them to put on gifts. I think a gift without a ribbon is naked and shows you didn’t take time or care. Last Christmas I used hemp rope and camo wrapping paper for the boys, and brown paper and gold ribbons for the girls. I have a real job now, so this year I was actually able to get people the kind of gifts I could be proud of. I was actually able to give some good thought into it and hardly anyone had to be passed up. Everyone was pleased. Sometimes I wish my dog was a girl so I could put ribbons around him. I’m not that weird though, I don’t put ribbons on my boy dog. I do think a lot of things need that little extra touch. Just to show that you thought about it. As much as we are told not to judge a book by it’s cover, we do. Quite literally I have put a book down because I did not like it’s cover, and the same goes for albums. People, well, honestly people dress how they want to be seen. You can’t necessarily guess if they are kind or not from their appearance but you sure can tell a lot about them regardless. I wish I could wear ribbons without feeling childish. I don’t care what others think, but i do pay attention to what I think, and I think I am childish when I put bows or ribbons in my hair. Ah well.
Can’t Be Sure
It takes me forever to make a decision. Not precisely because I am indecisive. With the big things it takes forever because I am terrified of it all turning out useless. I hated wasted time and space. Yet the more I look the more I see that I have just that. I have wasted time in my life and space around me. It drives me bonkers. Half of my life I have been told that I was lazy and couldn’t do anything but half-assedly. Mother’s favorite words were half-assed. Everything I did was just that way. About fifteen years later I realize she was depressed and suffering from some postpartum. Along with her own inadequacy complexes (having been a mother very young and not finishing school). So now I forgive her, but I have to deal with the consequences of her actions on me years later. Which brings me back to the fear of being useless. The fear of wasting time, money, and energy. I want to go back to school so bad. But I am terrified that I will end up doing just about nothing with it more than what I am doing now without it. My life has a lot of silly fears in it. I need to just give over and jump in. Who cares what I waste. It’s all mine now. I CAN waste it. That’s my right. I’m not married. BF doesn’t count. We don’t live together. I am allowed to waste my time and space as I see fit.
Reminds me of a song… Waste of Paint by Bright Eyes
My head feels weak and suddenly it is clear to see
It is not them but me, who has lost my self-identity
As I hide behind these books I read, while scribbling my poetry
Like art could save a wretch like me
With some ideal ideology that no one could hope to achieve
And I am never real, it is just a sketch in me
And everything I made is trite and cheap and a waste
Of paint, of tape, of time
I don’t want my identity to rest on fear.
Say It Again
I think about songs and how much they repeat themselves
I think about arguments and how awkward it is to repeat yourself
I think about sass, when you can’t believe you’ve heard what you heard
I think about love and needing to hear those words over and over
I think about boldness and saying your words in front of authority
I think about me and how terrified I am of cycles
Doing the same silly things
Thinking the same silly thoughts
Drawing sideways figure eights
I don’t want to say it again
A bird cage
I had a dream about a bird last night. A man gave me a truck. He told me to watch his baby and to watch his bird. In dream fashion, I forgot about them both for about a week. I found the baby and cuddled him. I told the baby I would never leave him alone like that again. I looked into the bird-cage and the bird was hanging upside down breathing very heavily. So I opened the front of the cage and let it fly free. It flew to a nearby tree and rested on the ground. The bird looked fairy disheveled. I took the baby to my mother’s. It wasn’t mine and I clearly was not ready to take care of it.
I have plenty of dreams in that nature. I have a pet or a child and somehow I am unfit to take care of it. It’s probably an adequacy complex. I know that I am terrified of the responsibility it brings. I have a dog and I take care of him well, but i don’t think I could handle too much more than that. I probably worry unnecessarily, but maybe deep down I don’t want a child. I hated being a kid. Why would I create that for another soul? That’s just irresponsible and unkind. I’m glad BF doesn’t want kids either.
I found this “New Age Bullshitter” It’s a website that gives you a bunch of profound sounding “New Age” words. The guy who created it coded the site to spout off key words and phrases most new agers use. Things about humanity, the journey, quantum oohysics, and the like. It’s fun to push the button and see all the junk it comes out with. It’s fun, and it’s sad. Because though this is an automatic process, it still comes out sounding like it was written by “Spirit Science” or whatever. A part of me is into that stuff. It’s hard not to be when you’re a massage therapist. Another part of me is pretty practical and thinks too much “spirituality” is not healthy. I saw a quote once that pretty much summed that up. (Which I cannot find no matter what I put into Google…and I don’t remember where I saw it) It said something to the effect of; as humans we are meant to live in the middle. We are not animals, and we are not angels. Trying to live as either one throws us off balance and ruins God’s design for us.
So that being said; as humans we are in what seems like a perpetual state of purgatory. We are the “middle ground” for everything that goes on around us. The only things we know for certain are the things we can observe. Which is no wonder why so many people are turning away from God and becoming either entirely “spiritual” (a kind of narcissistic spirituality) or entirely…animalistic. When I say animalistic, I do not mean barbaric. I more mean…human. In every sense of the word. There is intelligence there, but the world is the world and that is all there is or all that matters. Anyway.
And true to what I view as the real nature of human (purgatory, middle man) I am still torn between these views. I believe in God and spirit, but I believe in science and facts. What exists now is what matters. Who cares about string theory and multiple universes. I live here, and now, in this reality. This is my home. With computers, and forests. With aall levels of civilization around me. Where I think nothing is impossible but maybe a little improbable, but not impossible.
Play A Game
Last night I got high with my neighbors and played Pictionary. It was snowing and I thought “Why the hell not?” I am not getting drug tested anytime soon. The classes I take don’t want to drug test me. My boyfriend isn’t going to test me.Why the hell not? I go over to their house, and it’s exactly as I expect it to be. A little hippie mixed with some grunge memorabilia. BIc lighters lined a window sill like a show case and there were some fake pewter dragons mixed with some miniature mushroom statues through out the living area. For having three dogs, they were surprisingly well behaved. I was accosted with noses when I entered, but no annoying jumps or licks. The lab liked me and sat behind me on th couch the entire night. It was nice having him there. It had been a few months since I had gotten high last so it gave me some comfort to reach back and pet him when I became awkward. He was my fuzzy wall. All in all the game went pretty smoothly. I shold have been on the guy’s team. Our drawing styles were similar and I could hardly follow what the girls were doing. It’s usually like that. But I tried to put away my awkward and cheer for my team mates even. I was the weak one on our team technically. One guy, put his hand on the paper and started to trace it. Do you know what his team mate guessed?? Turkey. He was right. Gah. The music on in the background was a mix between new age funk and 90’s popish…. Like Eve6 and Pretty Lights were playing on the station. They would all randomly sing some of the 90’s stuff, and although I knew the song I didn’t join in. I knew the words. I rather liked the song. I just didn’t like the scenario. These people were 26-31. All still playing around like they were 20. And granted, that is what I was doing that night also. I still felt like I needed to distance myself from that. I still felt like I wanted to be more mature than what I was at that moment. I don’t feel like I failed anybody or anything by smoking last night. I was snowed in, and I was bored. It was a nice get away moment. As soon as I got home though I let my dog out and gave him all the love. I felt bad for leaving him. Laying in bed, I gave thought to my actions. I don’t regret them. I didn’t hurt anybody. It may have been a childish thing to do, but sometimes that’s what you need. It helped me calm down and chill. After going through withdrawals of my anxiety medication it felt nice to finally relax my body. I guess I am just not a fan of having to hide it. I could use it for my anxiety, but I can also not moderate myself. Ah well. Pictionary is fun when you’re high.
As soon as I get used to being one age; it’s time for me to be another.
One time I went to the grocery store with my younger siblings, S and A. We were there to cash S’s paycheck. On our way back to the car there was a red truck parked beside us with an older guy in the front seat. As we were getting closer I could tell there was something funny going on. It wasn’t until were were right up on him though that we figured out he was jacking himself off. We were just kind of stunned and the only thing I could think to do was to tel S and A to get into the car and NOT look over. So yeah. That happened. That’s my experience with random perversion.