Return of the Freak

I fear I've been irreversibly damaged, by none other than yours truly. (I've never actually understood that- why does "yours truly" mean "me"? How does that even make sense?)
I'm in a super shitty place mentally right now, and I don't even know what I'm doing with myself anymore. Every time I see someone that I had relations with, I get angry.
False.
Only when I see people I cared about and had relations with do I get angry. Whether at them or at myself I've yet to decide.
And then there's the fact that my brains completely stopped working. Serves me right, leaving the country for  7 months and expecting to come back and have everything just as I'd left it. Ugh. What bullshit. I can't write anymore. I don't think I can even bullshit anymore. And I most certainly cannot creatively write. I'm angry with myself. I'm angry with my parents for fucking up their shit and driving my sister crazy. I'm angry with my profs for speaking with complex terminology that I don't think I understand a hundred percent.... God, I'm just overall angry.
Plus, I think I have an STI.
False.
I know I have an STI, and I just haven't had the balls to go to the doctor and have it confirmed. Because I'm a pussy. And I don't want solid proof that I'm right. Even though I know I'm right anyways, there's a tiny part of me that hopes that if I go see the doctor they'll tell me it's something else completely and can be cured.
But I'm not stupid enough to believe that.
Every time I think about the STI and the guy I associate as having given it to me, I break down and cry.
Breaking News: I don't have my shit together, contrary to popular belief. I'm a real fucking mess.
And by last count, I'm pretty sure I'm at 36? Jeez. I don't even know anymore.

Good thing no one else reads this anymore. Or at least here's hoping.
Damnit. Now that it's occurred to me, I fear posting this in case people *are* reading it. Turns out, just as I don't have the balls to see a doctor, I also don't have the balls to admit this to myself via blog posting.
               That's not right.
It's not a matter of admitting it to myself. I'm already aware and in acceptance of it. It's that I don't have the balls to let *people* know.
Tough shit. Now you know.

I think what's more terrifying than death is the idea of knowing you're going to die. Knowing that you won't be able to experience anymore. It's not a fear of what happens when you die. It's a fear of what will never happen because you're dead.

Procrastinator's Rant

Holy fuck, the world needs to calm the fuck down. Time keeps going by, and I keep forgetting I'm not the only one getting older. I see pictures of my family, my cousins and family friends- kids I've known since they were in diapers. Suddenly they're in "complicated" relationships, and posting pictures about how they can associate with people who've considered suicide. WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT.

I was the happiest fucking camper when I was 14. Wasn't I? What grade are 14 year olds in again? Nine, right? I think so. Hrmm. Kay, so maybe life wasn't super easy then, but seriously? THEY WERE SO LITTLE. When did they start smoking weed and drinking? When did they stop playing sports and start spending all their time partying. WHEN THE FUCK DID THESE KIDS GROW UP?

Have I really been out of the loop for so long? I left for university, and they just decided to grow up without me? I miss my family. I miss the family gatherings, when all the cousins would complain about how they had better things to do, and couldn't be bothered with silly family things. I miss when we used to play hide and seek, or floor hockey. We'd sit and talk for hours, united in our frustration with the parents. I don't even know when I'm going to see any of them again- they've all got their own adolescent lives to deal with, and I'm almost 20. Oh god. TWENTY. In seven months. Sure, I'm still a kid. I'm still dependent on my parents. I'm still in school. But I'm growing up. Same as all the kids I left as kids. Who am I to expect them to wait for me. To keep their childlike innocence so I can stare at it in awe. Even the aging of the older ones is evident. The ones who were my age. We were so close back then. Now they don't even reply to the posts I've wrote on their walls.

On another note altogether, I'm getting pretty fed up with my house. Thankfully there's only a month left. It's stopped shocking me, but I still get annoyed when I see how little they care about the state of cleanliness around here. I mean, it's ONLY ever me and R who take out the garbage. And I don't think anyone has bothered to put any dishes away- they all just let them pile up on the dish rack. I wait a week to see if anyone puts them away this time. Nope. Sure, they'll sometimes help when they see me cleaning. And G is generally pretty good about cleaning up randomly. He'll go all out when he starts.
Gah, and then, NOT ONLY do the dishes get left on the rack forever, they're hardly ever even clean! I mean, the idea of washing both sides of a plate seems foreign to people, as if they don't realize that we STACK plates. This means that the bottom of that plate you didn't wash is ON TOP of the plate you're about to eat off. Yum.
What else? Hmm. Ranting is a blast after so long. Fuck.
I could potentially rant about blondie's bf, but that would be a waste of my time, plus I'm pretty sure that if anyone still checks this, it's blondie. Though there is that one thing that's still pissing me off, and because I was told I'm not allowed to confront him about it, here goes. The other house was over for some event or another, I don't remember exactly when this was, and apparently on the way back to their own house, one of them commented on how surprised they were by how clean our house was, or something along those lines. To which this DOUCHE BAG replies "Yeah, blondie's really whipped them into shape."
...
Excuse me?
...
EXCUSE ME?
That's a fucking joke, right?
Someone tell me that's a FUCKING JOKE.

Honestly, I don't even know what to say to that. I'm not sure if the comment makes me mad at him or her even. I mean, on the one hand it suggests that he considers us to be blondie's slaves or something, as though it's our duty to behave in response to her "cracked whip". On the other hand, it could also suggest that she has successfully deluded him into thinking she cleans around the house and has somehow managed to convince the rest of us to help out.
God, I don't even know. I barely talk to her anymore. Kinda miss it. Granted, I barely talk to anyone anymore.

Whatever. As per usual, I leave this in a mental state of indifference.
Meh.
Time to try to finish this goddamn essay.

To Do

It appears that some of my more recent poetry has not been shared on here. I'll have to remedy that as soon as I find it in me to care. Till then-
Ta Ta.

Frazzle Dazzle

I like the "z" sound, it's not used enough in our vernacular.
Well, it's already March, meaning I've gone about 2 months without writing. And you know what? I'm perfectly okay with that. Yeah, sure, I've started writing in my notebook a whole lot more, and there's a ton of random poetry mixed in with my class notes, but I'm okay with it. I've grown since before when I needed my blog. Haha, cause now I'm strongerr, than yesterday. Now it's gonna be my wayyyy. My loneliness ain't... something anymore. Can't remember the rest of the words.

Regardless. I've been stressing out a lot lately. With school work, and the job search, and the inability to pay rent for the summer/the need to find a subleaser. Not a hundred percent sure why I decided to come write about it here- probably nostalgia. 

Don't really have much to say now that I am here. Although, I was recently plagued with the realization that most of my male friends are gay. This started to bug me until I thought about it and realized why that was the case. And then it occurred to me that I wasn't friends with many straight guys cause most of my previous straight male friends had somehow managed to ruin the friendship. Mainly by sleeping with me. Or trying to. I can list nine off the top of my head right now. Of those nine, only two were actually interested in me romantically. The rest were just horny bastards.   

Moving on- I went to an English Society meeting today. I'm trying to get more involved in the community. Maybe I'll meet some less horny bastards. And then after the meeting there was a creative writing meeting that I had the pleasure of taking part in. I read some of my poems (for the first time) to people who cared to hear them. I read the Howl one and the fermented forestry one. They seemed impressed, suggested I take part in a poetry slam because of the performance aspect in my Howl poem. It felt really good to feel like I was a part of something. Apparently we're all going on a bookstore crawl this weekend, and I'm volunteering for some event. Don't really know the details about it, but I'm excited. We even talked about an end of term party that I've been invited to. I'm really glad I went. It feels important. 

Finally, last point of interest, I've decided to work on my papers a head of time. This time there will be no last minute essay writing. I'm determined. So it has been written, so it shall be. 

And So It Begins

Second week of courses and already a paper due tomorrow. Well, today. And already I've begun with my horrible procrastinations. Instead of writing the page and a half paper I need to get done, I've somehow managed to do everything except write anything. I've wasted time on 9gag, Facebook, Sparknotes, some celebrity gossip page, and stuff off the interwebs too- I cooked for a couple hours, had some wine, hung out at the other house, read more of the book I'm reading, and gone out in the cold rain for a couple cigarettes. Goddamn. I don't know why I do this to myself. I have class in 8 hours. I'm tired and annoyed and I just want to sleep. Instead, I'm here, venting about how I don't want to do my paper. In all honesty, it'd probably take about an hour, if even, if I were to sit down and just write the damn thing. But noooo. Scumbag brain is determined to make my life miserable. Determined to entertain me with ANYTHING else. No. Not scumbag brain. Scumbag internet. Y U NO STOP WORKING WHEN I HAVE ESSAY DUE??? Hahahha, so much time on the internet has me thinking in memes. I am genuinely exhausted. Which is pathetic cause it's only 2 in the morning and last term I was okay with staying up till the wee hours of the morning.
What am I doing with my life?
Kay.
No more of this.
Determination and exhaustion win over the fight with the internet. If this paper isn't done by 3 I will seriously injure somebody. Maybe Bill Nye. He hasn't received much attention from me lately.

She's Not There

Good night last night. Haven't been that drunk since... well, since last weekend.
Huh.
But this time was a bit worse- I've got a  bit of a hangover D: Totes worth it though, I had a blast last night. Completely let loose, danced, sang along to some karaoke shits, and met a guy- who met my standards! Fuck yeah. T'was a good time. And he wasn't difficult about shit. Like, he kept saying that he was really into me, but I didn't want anything more than a hookup and he was okay with that. He even left when we were done at my place cause I told him I didn't want him there in the morning. He wasn't douchey about it either. He totally understood where I was coming from, and even though he may not have felt the same, he respected my rules.
Why can't more guys be like that?
*le sigh*
Count: 18

Please.

I seem to have misplaced
My cheerful disposition.
It's flown right off my face.
The angry world will opposition
Those who won't amend.
Too bothered to pretend.
They intend to make a difference-
Seek that bright lit star.
The great wide space
That stands between
Is oozing,
Sorrowful pus.
Falling down,
For far too long.
My knees have grown so weak.
They won't support
The heavy mind
That leads those long lost sheep.

A Sad Little Poem

I just want to hide away

To crawl under a rock

Pretend the world was slipping

Apart

Through my fingers

Fists and jaw

From the shock

Of living as us puppets do

From our stings and strands

Our tufts of hair getting in the way

Blocking the Puppet master from the stand

So instead we tune our notes and look

Below

To the hiding space we might crawl

Away from harm

And cold, frozen snow

In hibernation, we turn a cold cheek

To destruction, flame and sorrow

Curl up into safety pins

And prick those who come too close

Hidey holes are not for sharing

Or so the story goes

But the truth is we’re needles too,

Wrapped up in our thread

We look to mend

Tie knots

And break off loose ends.

I Feel Like I'm Surrounded By Idiots

So last night, just for chills, blondie and dino (dinosaur girl- other housemate who needs a nickname) started drinking and we thought it'd be fun to play beer pong. I didn't feel like drinking so I smoked a bowl instead. At some point in time, the two girls got really drunk and started acting like fucking idiots, blondie even going so far as to brandish a knife and slam the freezer door into G's head. The brit got scared and left early, not wanting to deal with them because they were being stupid and shoving shit under his door. Then they started dragging each other up the stairs, pouring their drinks on each other, and just being over all stupid. Now, the asian ottawaian has been involved in the matter in that I spoke to her this morning, and apparently blondie's been bitching about me to her as well. Why is blondie bitching? Because I confronted her this morning. Because I went up to her and said "You scared the shit out of me last night." She didn't even have the decency to care. Instead typing into her phone the entire time I was talking to her. Really? Are we being children about this? Cause that's really all I'm getting from this. Usually it's only little kids you need to keep knives from, and tell them not to fool around on the stairs. And then the ottawaian tells me that she doesn't want to be a part of it- she understands why I'm upset, but thinks I'm overreacting and that I shouldn't stop blondie from further drinking. She even tells me that she talked to blondie and said that "It really wasn't necessary for you to play with a knife."

FOR FUCKING SERIOUS????

"It wasn't necessary for you to play around with a knife." Oh good lord, I can't even begin to explain how infuriated I am right now. DOES NO ONE UNDERSTAND THE IMPLICATIONS OF THIS? THIS BITCH CAN'T CONTROL HERSELF WHEN SHE'S DRUNK AND WE'RE HAVING A FUCKING PARTY THIS WEEKEND WHERE THERE WILL BE PEOPLE- ALL OF WHOM WILL BE INTOXICATED. ARE WE HONESTLY SUGGESTING THAT IT WOULD BE WISE TO PERMIT THIS CRACKHEAD TO DRINK WITH OTHER PEOPLE, THUS ENDANGERING OUR GUESTS? IF THE BITCH WANTS TO DRINK, SHE CAN LEARN TO FUCKING CONTROL HERSELF AND NOT THREATEN PEOPLE'S LIVES. NOT TO MENTION, SHE CAN'T EVEN ACCEPT THE FACT THAT SHE WAS FUCKING HAMMERED LAST NIGHT. SHE KEEPS SAYING "I WASN'T EVEN THAT DRUNK."

I asked you, as a friend, if it bothered you that I was scared shitless last night, and you gave me the most contempt filled, sarcastic apology you could possibly muster. Is this the friendship I missed? I was upset that I had lost your friendship to your boyfriend, and was trying to spend as much time hanging out with you and talking with you and stuff as possible. And you can't muster up the empathy to talk to me?
I genuinely wanted to cry after the way you talked to- or rather, ignored- me this morning. I wanted to get all this out in the open. But then I get the cold shoulder from you, outright denial, and pure childish immaturity. Only to then get the text from the asian ottawaian to push me over the edge. So this was my last option. Writing what I needed to say to you here, where you will most likely read it, if you still care enough about me to check up on me thus.

You don't have to forgive me for this, I'm not planning on apologizing for it just yet anyways.

If I Could Be Like That

I would do anything. 

"So, I was goign to write aobu t time. No, not ryhem you stiplid keyboard, time. I was curious as to how we perceive time. I mean, what is time? In an hourglass, for example, time is that individual grain of glass that falls from te top half. In a weaver’s board, it;s each curve the thread makes between the bars. On a clock it’s the little red hand ticking each second away. But what is that space between eachtick, each grain, each curve?

Weed- it’s unconvential and its a solution, to life.

Not even gonna edit it, it's last night's BRILLIANT idea, just- stuff I was thinking about after having some of the greatest weed ever with the asian ottawaian. It was a good night. 

Weed- it’s unconvential and its a solution, to life."

My sister was over for the weekend, and that was exciting. I tried to keep her thoroughly entertained the entire time. We played beer pong with the other house (I'm a great role model) and then went costume shopping the next day. Not much else to say about the weekend, well, other than the fact that I found out that two of the girls that lived on my floor last year have started dating. I'm so proud of them because they decided to embrace their drunken kiss and dumped their respective boyfriends in order to understand, explore and embrace the feelings they had for each other. Not gonna lie, I did see it coming- I wasn't too shocked when they told me, I had always suspected one of them to lean a bit more in that direction, and the other one just made sense with her. 

Oh, and I talked to the white boy. Nothing serious, but we did bring up that night and kinda skimmed over what happened and why our friendship fell apart and stuff. I was kinda glad to get that out in the air. As soon as we started talking about it, I felt like I could just breathe easier. 

I just sat and watched this movie, Trust. It was torturous. Brilliant, but terrifying. It hit so close to home that I thought I was gonna be sick the entire time. I kept holding my breathe, waiting to see what happened next, and I burst out in tears every five minutes or so, just because of the way the parents of the girl would react to everything. It was so hard to watch from that perspective, I just kept thinking "This is what happened to my parents. They fought with each other, they yelled, they cried, they tried to comfort me, they tried to figure out who the guys I was talking with were- and I protected them too." It was especially difficult to watch because I understood and saw both perspectives. I knew why the girl wanted to protect the guy, but I finally understood why it was so hard for the the parents to deal with it after knowing all that they did. Every time the girl yelled at her parents, my heart broke a little bit because I knew I had done the same thing to my parents. It broke even more when I saw the parents dying inside afterwards. It was terrifying. 

Anyways, time to go to the gym. 

Oh, and I'm at 17 now. *sigh*

Wouldn't Want To Be Anybody Else

I wonder how people in the "olden days" reacted to rainbows. Do you think they burned a "witch" each time they saw one? Blamed some poor, random woman for putting magical colours into the sky? What was the first reaction to the first rainbow? Like, the cave people who lived, what did they think when that saw a rainbow? Did they do any cave drawings of them? Did they worship them?

Why are dead leaves the most beautiful? Is this supposed to represent something about our lives?

I'm a little bit in love with the guy who sings "Somebody That I Used To Know", he's beautiful. I want someone real to be a little bit in love with though. I feel like I've been changing again. I've become less of a slut. Honest! I've only slept with one guy thus far (this school term). Yes, there was other stuff with other guys, but no sex. That's an improvement.

Ugh, I need a job.

I'm really hung up on this song though, and it's not just that I'm in love with the guy who's singing it either. I love his voice, and I feel like I can really relate to the lyrics. It's lie the story of every one of my relationships (oh, god- they feel so far away; I barely remember the details anymore).

The tree we just drove by had white leaves. It was beautiful.

But yeah, the song. I keep thinking about back when I was with so-and-so. I'm addicted to this "certain kind of sadness". I'm hung up on this- thing. But we didn't need to cut each other off afterwards. We could've been friends. Cause now, as he says, they're just people I used to know. Used to love? How is it possible to switch between such extremes? To go from blind, doting obsession to barely acquainted? I mean, we were so in love. We'd think, dream and breathe each other. Now it's hard to even remember his face. We used to talk all the time. Randomly, at 3 in the morning. Now I can't recall the last time we spoke.
I really do miss it. It doesn't help that I haven't got the balls to tell people I may be attracted to how I feel. Plus, I run away from the one night stands that show more interest. Goddamn it all to heck.
What is attraction anyways? What tells us that one person is hot but another isn't? Do we take an inventory of their features and think "blue eyes, check, good nose, check, broad shoulders, check, kay- he's hot"?

You know what else is weird? This stuff doesn't actually bother me during the day, or night, or whatever. It barely crosses my mind. It's only when I've got a blank page in front of me and need to empty thoughts onto it that I turn to these ideas.

Things Aren't as Bizarre as They Are

I sometimes forget that I tried to off myself once. It feels like a "once upon a time". I'm not sure if it's specifically "forgetting" or pushing to the back of my mind. It was resurfaced just now because I was going through some of my old writings (the ones I said I'd eventually put up). Here's the one I just read. Not a hundred percent sure if this is up yet, like, if I'd typed it up in a reminiscent moment once before, but I doubt it. So here goes:
"What have I done?
I don't know what to do. What if it didn't work? What are you supposed to do after you've used your last resort? What if your last resort fails you? How long does it take to die anyways? I think it was about... 5 of the really strong ones and 12 of the regulars. That's a fair number of pills. It has to have some sort of effect. Plus, it was on an empty stomach. I just want it all to end. I don't care about all the shit I'll be missing out on if I die. I've just stopped caring. I want it to be over with."
Another one was written on the back of some recipes I had in my pocket at the time. This one isn't so depressing. I was just high over the summer and with my fuck buddy of the time- we were in a forest and staring at trees:
"I sense there's something in the air, a silence coming, a new wall burning. Just words. So many faces they pass me by and by. Itchy itchy. They come a biting, knocking on your door. They will be pouncing and just creating words. It's always moving. I'll never remember the tune. You don't see it anymore. You shot your's and only memories of a dream. I'm so high I can touch the sun. I'm burnt down to a crisp, you see. There's so much more I can't write down. They fleet so quickly by. You want to get rid of me, but I refuse to go. Not because I want you, no- but because I want to stay.
That is the end of that one you say, and pretend to wipe an eye. You whisper I'll be coming up for more. Attempts to pretend, but knows not how to. Mmmmm; Angel. I should pack up my shit and let him be free to go. Could I come back at all or will I fall down through the wall. He keeps hinting and nudging. Let us go he pleads, help us all beware! She's mad as a hatter and ready to call out to the children and birches and brethren."

Has anyone ever noticed that the cookie monster only ever ate chocolate chip cookies? If you ask me that's a bit cookiest. Mozart was crazy- flat fucking crazy.These cookies are so fucking good. Mmm, image how good they'd be if I could microwave 'em. I'm addicted to microwaves, btw. They make life so much easier. Why the fuck didn't we use the microwave at home??
Ugh, I'm doing it again. I just had like, a zillion thoughts fly through my head, and go figure, I didn't write any of them down. Hrm. I'm going to the gym tomorrow. Mhmm, at.. 11? Gah, mornings. There was something wrong with me today- I'm not a hundred percent what it was, but I think I was just feeling lonely. Like, for what I'd been bitching about all last year. I got all reminiscent, and started remembering the boyfriends. The last two most specifically. Because I have no idea what I called them in previous posts, I'm just gonna go ahead and call them by the name- Jordan and Ryan. I remembered how it was with Jordan, and how he'd visit me at school because that was the only time we had together because of my parents. And how Ryan would come over and we'd "watch tv". Haha, I had my first spider-man kiss with Ryan. And how I introduced Jordan to Regina Spektor and how he introduced me to Beck. I fucked up with both of those. I ended it with Ryan because I told myself he was pressuring me. I don't remember what I thought he pressuring me towards, considering I was the worst of the two of us. I was the one who smoked and drank and did weed; who had piercings and tattoos. Wait, no, I didn't have a tattoo during either of those. Hrmmm, the cookies are almost done and Nat learnt what her middle finger meant. This soundtrack has been on repeat for the past 4 days. IT IS INCREDIBLE. I'm still not over it. And then I ruined our friendship during summer school by acting like a huge bitch. Hahahhaha, and that letter I sent him during our Advanced Functions class telling him how high I was. Then I ended it with Jordan too. Jordan who cared about me and offered me a place to stay if it ever got too bad with my parents. Hahaha, Jordan who wanted to get me checked for some STI before he'd have sex with me. Not that we ended up having sex- or getting the test. Jordan who I left alone for a summer while I traversed around Iran and last cookie! Sor-omnom nom-ry, om nom nom. Sorry. Right, who I left alone and wasn't able to communicate with. Who I wrote "no you're not" in response to his birthday status. Oh God, I feel like a tard catch me I'm falling, sinking and sprawling. Why am I such a massive bitch? I even have the bitch brows that go with it (I was just doing my eyebrows and I'm pretty sure they're perfect). I miss my mom. And my twin. And everyone else that matters. Is it super pathetic that I've only had two real relationships since 2009? Oh God why thank you doctor, Valium is my favourite colour. How'd ya know ;). It sounds so much worse when you actually look at the years. At least they were special. They say love is blind, but believe me- love is insane. I bet they're not dealing with this. I bet they haven't wasted their time remembering me. God, was is this fucking pity party. Do you see what I was saying about it being an off day??
Kay, fuck. I should go to bed. It's almost 1, and I'm tired and this day isn't going to get better if I have to go without sleep. And of course I didn't get any work done today. No, that would've made this day productive -_-. Night.

The Little Duck Tie

Finally got the Next To Normal soundtrack from the brit. It's sooo good. Granted, these Mint Thin thingies are pretty fucking good too. And so was that veggie burger I had for dinner. Mmmmmmm, all this food talk is a bitchh.
So I wanted to write this in a way that wouldn't sound so pathetically first timerish, but couldn't think of anything  so I'll just say it. I'm having a bowl right now and I'm super curious as to what I may write whilst high. But so far it sounds pretty much like how I usually write. And I would be perfect for you, I could be perfect for youu. 
This cuckoo's nest is worse. Lol, guess I'm not really writing, kinda switched to quoting the music. Hahahha, she just referenced Sylvia Plath.
Uhm, stuff keeps twitching, and my neck is cricking and so are the crickets outside. The bike rack shufffle, the dance of the bars and wheels. The knuckles dancing, mini solos and bold duets? Cars driving by, up in my room, so fluid, so loud. Hard to swallow, gravel chunks bouncing off the waterfall throat. Sticky fingers, itchy ears. No similarity- just parts of the process. The marriage. The system. Massive zits and oddly placed hickeys.  Misplaced zits and famous hickeys. Hickets. Bong water, stubbed toe. NO MORE LISTS! No bruises, no needles and pins. But what is poetry without listing? Words that work and form and portray, nothing gray- light and beauty and all that is write about the word. We're learning about Rhetoric in school. Oh, elementary school. Remember? When our biggest fear was that there might be a substitute teacher in that foreign classroom. We had Disney backpacks and Barney was still cool. I missed 11:11. I'll compensate with more- nay moar chocolate. Mmmmmmmm.That was really good chocolate. Why is it that chocolate tastes so much better when you're high? Lis and I were contemplating that whole "high" thing. I don't know why I put quotations on that. But we had made some fairly interesting breakthroughs regarding existence and what life really is. I'd tell you exactly what our theories were but I can't remember for the life of me. Again, always seems to be the case. You come up with some brilliant ideas and theories and concepts and then they're gone as soon you're sober. The worst. 
I think I'm gonna go watch a movie or something now. Remind myself to do my Rhetorics journal and Assignment 1 for CS tomorrow. Anything else? No. Don't think so. Need to leave this room before I take more chocolate. Gahhhhh, chocolateee.
OH. First, I totally forgot to mention the awkward time with the brit's roommate today. Hahahahaha, I had texted the brit if I could nap in his room between my classes today and he said sure. So after lunch he walked me to his room and left for his class. His roommate was there when me and him walked in and was watching animes on his computer. I sat down at the desk, finished my resume and then collapsed in the bed and totally passed out. Don't know why I was so tired tbh. Also, don't know exactly where I was going with thaat story. Hmm. Anywho. Movie times. But I don't want to stop listening to the soundtrack. This song is so romantic and depressing. And moving. No, that other one was moving. What was it called? The piano one "you'll be done with this shit, and there's nothing your paranoid parents can say". Or something about Beethoven.
My psychopharmacologist and I... The Rapist. I called my shrink a rapist. I told her about it once. That she was The Rapist. She laughed at me. But not at me, just... with me. My favourite pills. Valium is my favorite color. HOW DO I STOP??? Gahhh, I can't stop listening to it. It's so addicting. And every time one song stops another one starts immediately. Bless me. (I sneezed) You should've seen my fngers fly over the keyboard during the typing of this last paragraph.

And I Will Hold On Hope

It's 1:13 in the morning and I'm exhausted. I have a job interview tomorrow and I'm still up working on my online computer science course and it's driving me insane. I hate, repeat- HATE, it. I couldn't possibly give less of a damn about fucking computers and the name of the formula you put into excel to solve the equation =c3*50/2. I COULD NOT CARE LESS. I want to sleep but I've promised myself I'd finish reading the modules first. It's so bad that I am currently drinking the Wild Vines cherry pomegranate wine I had left in the fridge in hopes of numbing the pain associated with my loathing of computer science. Hah- my mum wanted me to take more CS courses. Yeah, right, that's gonna happen. There is definitely not enough wine in this bottle. I might grab one of my beers after and chug that too. I'm also powering through my pack of Marlboro's- that's not really helping either.
But I have faith in myself. I can do this. It doesn't help that every time I ask people to help they just tell me to ask Tall White boy. I do not want to be forced to spend more time than necessary with him just so I can pass my CS course. I will find another way. Even if it means embracing this loathing and turning it into pure determination. I have the power to do that. Or so I keep telling myself.
I will get through this course.
Also, I'm in love with Mumford and Sons. I borrowed the CD from the asian ottowaian and it's great. It will get me through this torture tonight. And the many nights that follow.
On the plus side, there's a kegger I'm looking forward to this friday. Fuck, I need to get drunk. And soon. This sobriety is almost worse than the CS course. I don't know how people are able to major in this shit.
Fuck. The wines done.
Goddamn.

Hand Turned To The Sky

I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I'm feeling, I'm feeling
I'm tossing, I'm turning
My stomach is churning
My face won't present it
I'm sitting, I'm writing
I'm feeling, I'm knowing
My eyeballs are dry and
I'm blinking and breathing
My mouth tastes like chalk
And my hair is all falling
In front of my face
My eyes aren't working
I'm floating, I'm jumping
I'm spitting, I'm running
I haven't left my seat
But I haven't lied yet
My scalp is crying
My ears are ringing
But no one will know it
If my face won't present it
And through the slit in the window
The world is presented
On a concrete platter
Partially hidden, as worlds often are
But the truth is still out there
Waiting to check to see if you're still looking
To see if your seeking
As hide and seek goes
I'm losing, I'm losing
The truth always knows
The truth always goes
Away- but comes back
For round two, and three and four
So long as the pen never leaves the paper
I'm fucking, I'm screwing
I'm using crude words
To break out of a shell
A mold- Imposed
Alllllllll the world knows it
They come out at night
When no one is looking
And judging and staring
Or so they think and
Hope and pray
But the truth (that we've found)
Is simple and clear
We are crude
And I count
The number of men,
and women,
I've fucked
Tick them off
Little checks in a list
To-do list indeed
To-done
To-day
It makes me laugh
And I pretend not to care
Slut! Whore! Frank. Honest.
Synonymous?
For me
They are
I am
Dispossessed.
Do I belong?
Can I belong?
Will I ever belong?
I pretend not to care
But I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding
I'm feeling, I'm trying
I'm crying
I'm dying.

Kay, so the hole is over there.

No, on the other side of the apple. Thereee ya go. Hahahaha, you totes thought I was going in a different direction with that "whole" thing.
Lol, no pun in tended.
Get it, cause it's "whole" thing, instead of that "hole" thing? Shuddup, it was funny in my head -_-

ANYWHO. There is a story behind the title, and it's all part of my entertaining.... evening? Yeah, sure, cause the entertainment started around 6ish. So I went to go see the gay brit and we chilled for a bit then headed back to his dorm. He lives on an all boys floor and I had to pee and he's like "no worries, just go use ours. It's a unisex bathroom". I believed him. Walked in and saw a bunch of guys peeing and brushing their teeth. The worst part is, I didn't turn around and say sorry "wrong room". I walked in. Went to a stall. Sat down. And peed. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME??? One of the guys told me, as I was leaving, "maybe it'll be best if you use the bathroom upstairs next time". I almost died of embarrassment. Then, back in gay brits room, we were drinking these apple cider alcohol drinks (that are super awesome and come in Tall Boy cans) and we found some writings under his shelf, above his pillow. I was reading them and one said a guys name and the year 85-86 underneath it. SO we decided to look this guy up and see where he is at this point in his life. We found him through google and then managed to find his e-mail address and decided to write to him and tell him the we were in his old room and stuff. We haven't heard back from him yet, but it was super exciting. As I mentioned earlier, this was all done while drinking this cider which got me fairly intoxicated. When we had to part ways, I to go him and him to continue his frosh duties, I was kinda drunk and had a half hour walk back home- where we had celebratory champagne (which we later found to be sparkling white wine, not champagne) with our dinner. Needless to say, I was pretty drunk after dinner. We decided to go for a walk and went through this petting zoo/garden/park thing and had a good time climbing things and being stupid and walking on railway tracks. On our way back home we found that one of my housemates (who we will dub WL- because she goes to Laurier) had lost her phone. None of the rest of us brought phones. We couldn't call her to help us find it and we didn't know what to do. So we just kinda looked around but couldn't find it anywhere. I told them I'd go to the house to get a flashlight and a phone to help us look. On my way back after I'd gotten the stuff, I ran into our.... neighbors? Well, they live in a subdivision of our house/building. And I ran into them- as they were lighting a bowl. It was an apple bong. For those who don't know, an apple bong is when you poke a hole into the apple from the stem, and then (I believe) you poke another hole in the side and connect the two "tunnels". You put the weed in the part of the apple with a stem, on top of some tin foil or filter, and smoke through the side hole. It's pretty intense and I had been craving weed that day. We said hello and introduced ourselves because we hadn't really met before, and they offered me a hit. I really wanted to, but I was in a rush to go help WL. They insisted (and I can't say no to weed) so I took a hit. After talking a bit more they asked to see the house and then showed me their house. They then, eversokindly, offered to help with the search. Thus, I found a search party. One of the guys hurt his wrist jumping a fence so him, his girlfriend and one of the guys headed back leaving just me and WL and 3 of the guys we met. One of the neighbors eventually found the phone just as we were going to give up our search so we headed back and I invited them in for tea. I was hoping they'd say no cause I was super exhausted and it was already past 1am then. Unfortunately they accepted and I had to stay up making them tea and entertaining them and stuff.

Goddamn I'm tired. Think I'll have to leave the story here. Though, not much else happened, it was jut really entertaining watching this guy trying to get me to invite him (alone) to stay longer as the other two left. He asked for my number then texted me saying "what are your plans for tonight?" Hahahaha. But he was cute. And sweet. Not really my ideal, but I guess I'd be happy dating him. He'd be acceptable.
As much as I'd love to write more, my eyes are slowly closing on me.
Night!

College (noun): The party before the hangover known as adulthood.

^Pretty much a summary of how I feel right now. I'm practically all moved in to the new house- just waiting on my mattress. Currently sleeping on the couch, cuddled nicely in blondie's blanket. I can't get over the fact that we've all moved in, it feels almost surreal. Like, I might just wake up tomorrow and find I'm back in my parent's house again and this moving business was all just a dream. God, that's a terrifying thought.

Totally off topic, but I need to mention this, then I can return to my new house talk. First of all, not really loving this new blogger business. I hate when they tell you to "try" a new layout but there's no return button after you've decided you don't like it. Gahhhh. Second of all, I've started gathering all my loose leaf and notebook bound writings and I've decided I should probably post them before they go missing again. The only thing is THERE IS SOO MUCH. I'll probably start working on it eventually.

So. The house. Fuck, it's awesome. It's super old and shit, and creaks a whole ton, but it's super homey and there's a vibrant blue light in one of the corridors (chyeahhhh, not just a hallway, a corridor) that kinda looks like it should be a black light, and the walls have super old wallpaper on them, and there's a fireplace, and an attic that has a poster of Megan Fox that the last tenants left behind, and... well, you get my point. This list could easily just keep going, but it's late, and I'm tired from moving and unpacking so I'll proceed with the rest of what I wanted to say. I absolutely love that we're all gonna be living together. Sure, it might be difficult at times, dealing with each others, I dunno, flaws? or whatever, but it's worth it. We're gonna be like a real family. Except, a real family that drinks and parties together. Chyeahhhhhhhh. I like saying that. It makes me feel super badass.
We had a great first night. Had everyone from the other house over, played a fucking awesome (stressful) game of Taboo, and just had an overall good time.
Kay, I'm far too tired.. and cold, to think clearly enough to be able to write more. SO goodnight :)

The Devastation Was Just Incredible

I find my tattoos incredibly calming, it's great to look at them and think "this is forever". Especially when so many things in life are just temporary. And insignificant. After a fight with my parents, for example, I look at them and think. This is temporary in comparison to my tattoos. Better things will come.

On another note ALL TOGETHER, I had a super weird dream the other night. I had spent the day with my grandma and was spending the night at her place as well, and fell asleep at around 2/3ish. I woke up at 8 (I thought) but it was just a dream. So when I thought I'd woke up, V and Tall White Boy walked into the apartment and started rearranging the furniture and then just plopped down on the couch. Then I woke up. Actually.
Hahaha, yeah, super random, and I don't really see any significance in it, I just thought it was amusing so I shared. Also, had a great time last night with Toto and the gay british man, we went down to the beaches and I gave him his birthday gift (a box of dog hair and a "pin the macho on the man" poster game :P). We walked around a bit, ate dinner at the Green Eggplant (super yummy) and then ginger and her friend (the guy we stayed with when we went to queens last year) came to the beaches and joined us. We spent the hour or so together sitting on the beach while playing "breastketball" with rocks and handfuls of sand. It was greatly entertaining, if not a little painful. I've got a couple little bruises now. Lol. But yeah, that's all for now.
Oh, wait, no. Forgot to mention. The trip has been decided. We're going to P.E.I. on the 27th and we get back on the 4th I think, which means I won't be able to movie in till either the 5th or 6th. Which really reallly realllyyyyyy sucks. I'LL BE MISSING SINGLE AND SEXY!!! Gahhhhh, it's making me really angry. But not actually angry, just kinda depressed :(

Boys Don't Cry

I don't know what it is, but I've been super emotional the past little while. Honestly, I figured it was just cause work was stressing me out, but I dunno, it seems a bit much to be simply a symptom of exhaustion. Par example, I was watching this movie "Boys Don't Cry" (gosh, it was a great movie, about a trans guy... f2m, and how he fell in love with this girl, but because they lived in hick town he kept it a secret, until everyone found out and a) raped him, b) beat him, and eventually c) killed him) and (back to my point) at the end of the movie when one of the dickheads puts a gun to Brendan's (the main character) head and pulls the trigger, I LITERALLY started bawling my eyes out. I was crying so hard, my dog came and sat in my lap and gave me kisses to try and cheer me up. I was so heartbroken over it that I was still crying at the end credits, and then my parents came home (they were at my grandma's) and saw me crying on the couch and got super concerned. I told them it was nothing, just a really sad movie and they kinda laughed at me *sadface*. Well, they didn't actually laugh at me, they just kinda smiled that knowing smile and my mum said "Aww, why did you sit and watch a sad movie by yourself? You should have watched it with me so I could hold you when we cried." Except she said it in farsi so it sounded more endearing.

On another note altogether, I'm torn. The family wants to go on vacation at the end of the month and our initial plans were going to P.E.I., but then my aunts decided they were going on a group trip to mexico, and they want us to go too. Thing is, I don't know which I want to do. P.E.I. is beautiful, and more cultured and peaceful and has beautiful scenery. Plus I've never been. Mexico, on the other hand, is hot sexy and full of free alcohol (we'd be staying at a resort) and sexy men. I don't know if I'm sexy enough to go to mexico, especially if the rest of my toothpick sized family is going. Ugh, I feel like a fucking cow when I stand next to my cousin. She's like, a third of my size and twice my height. Fucklife. I know, I'm being super shallow right now, but I can't help it- it comes with this new super emotional thing I'm going through. Maybe I am just tired. *Sigh* ah well, time for bed, work in the morningggg. Gahhh.