This will be a bit more free-write than my usual stuff.
I feel on some levels like I'm being electrified. On edge, jumpy, bouncy, zappy. Easily frustrated. Overwhelmed, in some ways, good and bad. I feel the washing of good and bad over me, and while I am comfortable, I am also in other ways close to the edge. Edge of what? I don't know. A freak-out, a writing frenzy, a break. Me time. Movement forward, always forward.
That's what life is about, really. We act like we're hot shit because we're HUMANS, right.. We are the kings of the planet. We took it over, made it our own, and animals live because we let them or some crap, right?
Well.. Take a step back, suspend your beliefs for a moment and try to follow my train of thought here.
Everything you are, all your blood, organs, veins, muscle, fat, skin, bone, tissue, is made up of particles so small you can't quickly conceive of it. There is more space in you that is empty than all of you. All those electrons, protons, neutrons, quarks... All vibrating, moving, bouncing, never still. What would happen if they were all still? If they just worked together like we perceive machines to? What would that do to us?
All those tiny, miniature particles, the building blocks of EXISTENCE, and we are it. We are the only intelligent life we know of. In this paragraph I mean in the known universe, we are the ONLY planet we have found with provable life on it, let alone as advanced as we are.
What are we? What is existence? So many particles you can't conceive of them, so many atoms you can't fully contemplate the vastness of them, all for the most part working in tandem. I mean, theoretically, we could cease to exist, right? I read an article recently that stated that approximately 98% of your atoms are gone within 2 years, replaced by others. 98% of YOU disappears and is replaced by something else. (If this is true.. If it's not, it's still a cool idea to think about.)
Existence as we know it is all those particles working together. The current theory is that all of everything was once condense to one finite place, right? One spot. BAM. And then it erupted outward, and eventually began forming stuff. And the atoms agree for the most part to stick with the program and go with the flow. How does that work? I have no fucking clue but it's cool as hell to think about, isn't it??
I for one don't know how that program works. but I'm glad it does. All your brain waves, all your thoughts, all your actions, the way your muscles move, the fact that your organs work the way they do, all the things you probably don't think of most of the time, couldn't work without those building blocks all working in tandem. So as odd as it may sound, I am going to take a moment to thank the atoms that make me up. I am going to thank the matter that I perceive as myself for working together for me, and for the rest of life on this planet.
Thank you.
Everything we experience on this planet, it's due to what, 14.6 billion years, I think? Was it lightyears or years? Does it matter? It's way bigger than us, that's for sure. All of that, to create all the planets and galaxies and suns and black holes and wormholes and asteroids and WHATEVER that we can't even see, and we. are. it.
For all we know, we are the *only* intelligent life out there. And right now we're still fighting over the magic man in the sky, or lines in the dirt. We are it. What if all those atoms working together to build something capable of what we conceive of as thought, to be able to communicate together, what if we are meant to do something, as a species? I don't know what. Live. Exist. Share, connect, grow, just as the atoms that make us up do, as the systems in our own planet do.
That is what makes me so immeasurably sad. The concept that people who hate each other and want to kill each other over things like loving someone with the same genitals, or driving in front of them on the road, or liking a different team of people in bright colored jerseys tackling each other over a ball.
We live on this gorgeous, beautiful planet, in this amazing universe, and we are so obsessed with iPads and the X-Box. Don't get me wrong, I love gaming as much as the next person, but there is so much more to life than the things like that. I wonder in some ways if we are on the brink of a great moment in history, human history and otherwise, and we have a choice to make. Do we work together, or destroy ourselves, and look like a bunch of bratty kids for eternity, if there are other races that find out about us later?
Live the best for you, for the ones you love. Be happy with your life, if you can, or at least try to be, because the fact that you are alive and can read and understand this is amazing.
I love you, fellow human-bodied fleshbag. <3
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Judgment of Girls
This has been on my mind lately, because of all the hate being spewed everywhere by the GOP. You don't have to agree with my point of view, that is your perogative. But I want to share something, and get this off my chest.
We act like we are such a civilized country. We really do. We act like we are so far advanced, and we try to ignore things that happened only a hundred years ago, five hundred. It's easier that way, right? Just pretend it didn't happen. La ti da, live your life, ignore it. The thing is, we as a species have not changed that much. We haven't. There are still people on this planet who crap in the bushes because there are no toilets. There are people who die because there is no clean water. There are children being married off to each other or to adults. There is still sexual slavery, and other slavery throughout the world.
These things are still fucking happening. You know what else is, that's sickening to me? Shows like "16 and pregnant" and the weird toddler shows where people primp their kids up and practically pimp them out. What sickens me more about that is the judgment that comes along with it. Here's the thing, though.. and this is reality, whether or not you choose to admit it. Every single one of us, every single human on this planet has done something terrible, stupid, made a mistake. Some people in our country don't necessarily realize it, or they live off it. And that's sad. But what is more sad to me is people judging others without recognizing the fact that we are all people on this planet.
Mind you, I don't watch TV. It sickens me, honestly.. It utterly disgusts me. The fact that people would rather sit in front of a TV chowing down on cheetos and whatever else while watching Jersey Shore, and allow their mind to rot because they just don't care.. It makes me sad. So to be honest, I haven't seen these shows. But I can tell you one thing, our society is rotting a bit too, in some ways. Oh, yeah. Women have the right to vote. Interracial marriages are no big deal anymore. But wasn't it like half a century ago people were getting HANGED for it?
Now, people are still getting hanged. Judged, condemned. All those girls on 16 and pregnant, and whatever else... What really gets me though with this is that one of my closest, oldest friends had a baby when she was 13. We lived in a small-ish area.. Her town was tinier than mine. She made a mistake, and had a baby. You might say she could have had an abortion, I'm sure several of you think she should have. But she doesn't believe in them and that is her prerogative. So, she knew she wouldn't be able to do anything for him, so she gave him up for adoption. And I was there.
I saw how it ate her alive. I couldn't do much, I just held her. And I mourned with her because it irrecovably changed her body, it created many other problems for her due to depression and other stuff, and she got judged for it. She did what she could for that baby, and that wasn't enough for people. She made a mistake, and they wouldn't let it go. She's a beautiful person, a wonderful, beautiful soul and it still hurts her to this day. And this isn't a story that just happened to her, it's happened to many other people.
We live in a society that likes to expect perfection, and condemn reality. Everybody fucks up. Everybody under the fucking Sun. THAT is reality. Reality is making mistakes. Reality is the fact that some people learn from them after it happens once, some people it takes more time. Reality is the fact that people do not have to live by your standards, or anyone else, because this is life. This is humanity.
We live in a society where girls are held to higher standards than boys in terms of expected perfection. The makeup, the hair, the obsession with beauty. The expectations of making no mistakes. We see it on every level of society, from the poor to the rich.. The only difference is that with the rich more people find out about it, and they're often at least legally forgiven for the bigger "mistakes" if they throw money at the problem.
But until such a time when we can accept the fact that people fuck up, we will not move forward as a species. That is a simple fact. We stand a few steps higher than those who don't have access to baths or showers, and we judge them in our own country for it. In our own fucking country. If people don't have access to it in other countries, we tend to ignore the problem, or kind of distantly think "that's sad". But in our own country, it's a different matter. It's distasteful. People want to avoid it more. And it sickens me, it really fucking sickens me that we expect people to live to such high standards, when every single one of us has made some stupid, tragic mistake.
Gah.
We act like we are such a civilized country. We really do. We act like we are so far advanced, and we try to ignore things that happened only a hundred years ago, five hundred. It's easier that way, right? Just pretend it didn't happen. La ti da, live your life, ignore it. The thing is, we as a species have not changed that much. We haven't. There are still people on this planet who crap in the bushes because there are no toilets. There are people who die because there is no clean water. There are children being married off to each other or to adults. There is still sexual slavery, and other slavery throughout the world.
These things are still fucking happening. You know what else is, that's sickening to me? Shows like "16 and pregnant" and the weird toddler shows where people primp their kids up and practically pimp them out. What sickens me more about that is the judgment that comes along with it. Here's the thing, though.. and this is reality, whether or not you choose to admit it. Every single one of us, every single human on this planet has done something terrible, stupid, made a mistake. Some people in our country don't necessarily realize it, or they live off it. And that's sad. But what is more sad to me is people judging others without recognizing the fact that we are all people on this planet.
Mind you, I don't watch TV. It sickens me, honestly.. It utterly disgusts me. The fact that people would rather sit in front of a TV chowing down on cheetos and whatever else while watching Jersey Shore, and allow their mind to rot because they just don't care.. It makes me sad. So to be honest, I haven't seen these shows. But I can tell you one thing, our society is rotting a bit too, in some ways. Oh, yeah. Women have the right to vote. Interracial marriages are no big deal anymore. But wasn't it like half a century ago people were getting HANGED for it?
Now, people are still getting hanged. Judged, condemned. All those girls on 16 and pregnant, and whatever else... What really gets me though with this is that one of my closest, oldest friends had a baby when she was 13. We lived in a small-ish area.. Her town was tinier than mine. She made a mistake, and had a baby. You might say she could have had an abortion, I'm sure several of you think she should have. But she doesn't believe in them and that is her prerogative. So, she knew she wouldn't be able to do anything for him, so she gave him up for adoption. And I was there.
I saw how it ate her alive. I couldn't do much, I just held her. And I mourned with her because it irrecovably changed her body, it created many other problems for her due to depression and other stuff, and she got judged for it. She did what she could for that baby, and that wasn't enough for people. She made a mistake, and they wouldn't let it go. She's a beautiful person, a wonderful, beautiful soul and it still hurts her to this day. And this isn't a story that just happened to her, it's happened to many other people.
We live in a society that likes to expect perfection, and condemn reality. Everybody fucks up. Everybody under the fucking Sun. THAT is reality. Reality is making mistakes. Reality is the fact that some people learn from them after it happens once, some people it takes more time. Reality is the fact that people do not have to live by your standards, or anyone else, because this is life. This is humanity.
We live in a society where girls are held to higher standards than boys in terms of expected perfection. The makeup, the hair, the obsession with beauty. The expectations of making no mistakes. We see it on every level of society, from the poor to the rich.. The only difference is that with the rich more people find out about it, and they're often at least legally forgiven for the bigger "mistakes" if they throw money at the problem.
But until such a time when we can accept the fact that people fuck up, we will not move forward as a species. That is a simple fact. We stand a few steps higher than those who don't have access to baths or showers, and we judge them in our own country for it. In our own fucking country. If people don't have access to it in other countries, we tend to ignore the problem, or kind of distantly think "that's sad". But in our own country, it's a different matter. It's distasteful. People want to avoid it more. And it sickens me, it really fucking sickens me that we expect people to live to such high standards, when every single one of us has made some stupid, tragic mistake.
Gah.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
My Rape was Legitimate, Too.
My name is Katrina. The second time I moved to Portland, I was homeless. This was just before I met my husband, for my friends to understand the timing. Actually, literally right before. Anyway, I was a stranger in a strange city. My first night homeless, I was shown a place to sleep by a questionable character. I woke up at 1 am to find him sitting up with his backpack dumped all over his lap. I can't even guesstimate the amount of pill bottles and syringes he had. I quietly laid back and stared up at the sky, and realized just how scary the world I am in really is.
I got about 4 hours of sleep that night. Packed up my stuff, and I took off at 5 am. As soon as the sky showed signs of lightening. I made a "Free hugs" sign because that freaked me out so badly I needed some form of comfort. Later in the day, in my random wanderings, I ran into a guy. He seemed really nice- he was very charming. I don't remember his name. He was taller than me, about 6' and didn't seem that threatening- as stupid as it sounds, he was wearing a polo shirt. This was the day I'd learn looks can be deceiving.
He said he'd show me where I could get some dinner and asked if I wanted to go hang out and drink some "Four Loko's" later. I grew up in Upstate New York.. I had never heard of them. They sounded weird, but interesting, and though I don't drink I decided sure, I need a friend.. This guy seems nice enough, right?
Wrong. He took me to the Rescue Mission for dinner, where there were people crowded at every table and it was served cafeteria style. I saw people who had been homeless for years, it was almost entirely men. It was unnerving, but I made it through. We went across the river to "find the spot" to drink, and slipped into a crack in the fence by one of the Hotels on the East side of the river. An alarm bell went off in my head, and I got a bit paranoid, but he got a little impatient so I went ahead. We were sitting less than 5 feet from the freeway in these weird trimmed up bushes, and there was a giant building right next to us. He opened one of the four loko's and offered some to me. I don't drink, so I didn't drink much of either of the two, I drank maybe altogether half of one, probably not even that. I started to feel really weird, like time was distorting and my head was heavy.
I don't think he drugged me, to be honest with you, I have a really nasty reaction to alcohol anyway. I feel like, dead inside or something when I drink, like my body is just this puppet thing I'm attached to. Freaking weird, to say the least. Note, I don't drink enough that I realized that that'd happen to me. Anyway after only a few drinks I started to feel weird then realized hey, shit, I am alone with this guy. No one knows where I am. I know where I am. Okay. Stop drinking. So I did. I think I might have accidentally told him I was feeling weird. He definitely noticed when it was time to stand up, I needed help standing.
He helped me get to the nearest Wendy's, but I don't remember how we got there. I apparently had already started blacking out. (I hadn't eaten anything but that small dinner at the Mission)
When we got there the depression hit- there's a reason I never drink, I don't like it. I just wanted to be social. I was miserable, queasy, felt gross.. All I remember is him asking where I had money and I didn't want to tell him my wallet, where I had some twenties, so I told him about the change in the backpack, where I had about 10 bucks in quarters or something. He went up to the counter and got me a drink and a small burger and made me eat. Not like, angrily forced me, he was actually really nice about it. Then he said something about asking if I had anywhere to sleep that night and I said no, so he said he'd let me "sleep it off on his couch".
****TRIGGER WARNING***
Right. I remember very, very vaguely following him in the rain, just watching his feet in the dim light the streetlights emitted, and following him through puddles. By the time we got there I was soaked, and miserable. I don't remember most of it. I only remember maybe 5 minutes of the trip. He opened up the door to this old van thing, like the kind carpenters or people like that use who fix up houses? Then he said I needed to get my wet pants off and get warm, so I did. He still hadn't done anything threatening. So I huddled there and I think he talked my ear off for about twenty minutes and I fell asleep. That's when it began.
I woke up to him inside me. This still makes me feel sick, though it happened in 2010. I woke up to a big shape over me, and he was already having sex with me. I don't know how long he had been, because I felt slimy down there, and had a vague memory of something to do with saliva to make me wetter or something. I don't know, it makes me want to puke. It was terrifying. It was pitch black, so to my terrified half-awake mind he looked like a demon. It seemed to go on and on and I felt like I was covered in slime (though I wasn't) and totally disgusted. I asked "What... What's going on?" "What are you doing" "Please stop, I want to sleep.."
"Just one more minute.." It lasted longer. Finally with me crying and freaking out he sighed and laid down next to me. I rolled over away from him. It was too dark and I was too scared to even THINK about putting clothes on, it didn't even occur to me that I could have until the next day. I stared at nothing in that dark cluttered van, eyes wide open, trying to calm down and go to sleep. Then I felt his hand between my legs. I kept saying for I don't even know how long "I just want to sleep.." "Please let me sleep"
The next day I definitely felt violated. I felt like flames between my legs and NOT in a pleasant way. I woke up and couldn't find my clothes because the alcohol had hit me so hard the night before. He grabbed them for me and when I would have taken off said he'd show me to the MAX.
MAX? What the hell? I got outside and was hit even harder by terror of how badly it could have gone. It was terrifying enough but apparently whatever the hell a "Four loko" was, I *hadn't even remembered a 45 minute train ride*.
I had no clue where I was. The city was nowhere in sight. I was tense, quiet as he led me past a college campus I didn't recognize, and to the max station. He asked if I needed a ticket, I said I was fine, and he left. That's when I remembered something he'd said while I was drunk the night before. He'd talked about being an ex con and having an ex girlfriend and a kid. It hadn't registered. I shuddered all over, thinking about how much worse it could have been.
I met my husband that day. I don't remember if it was that day or the next or a week later but I tentatively confided in him (He was just a friend at the time) about feeling like I was burning. I had a urinary tract infection. When I went in to the Outside In clinic, they asked if I wanted to talk to someone about it. I said sure, but it never happened. They asked if I wanted to be tested for STD's and I said yes, and was terrified that I was. Thankfully, it was just a nasty urinary tract infection that lasted 3 weeks. This was a rape, too. Even if you have a rape happen for you, you DO NOT and CAN NOT speak for other people who have.
Making decisions for people who've been raped amplifies that feeling. You don't have the right.
I got about 4 hours of sleep that night. Packed up my stuff, and I took off at 5 am. As soon as the sky showed signs of lightening. I made a "Free hugs" sign because that freaked me out so badly I needed some form of comfort. Later in the day, in my random wanderings, I ran into a guy. He seemed really nice- he was very charming. I don't remember his name. He was taller than me, about 6' and didn't seem that threatening- as stupid as it sounds, he was wearing a polo shirt. This was the day I'd learn looks can be deceiving.
He said he'd show me where I could get some dinner and asked if I wanted to go hang out and drink some "Four Loko's" later. I grew up in Upstate New York.. I had never heard of them. They sounded weird, but interesting, and though I don't drink I decided sure, I need a friend.. This guy seems nice enough, right?
Wrong. He took me to the Rescue Mission for dinner, where there were people crowded at every table and it was served cafeteria style. I saw people who had been homeless for years, it was almost entirely men. It was unnerving, but I made it through. We went across the river to "find the spot" to drink, and slipped into a crack in the fence by one of the Hotels on the East side of the river. An alarm bell went off in my head, and I got a bit paranoid, but he got a little impatient so I went ahead. We were sitting less than 5 feet from the freeway in these weird trimmed up bushes, and there was a giant building right next to us. He opened one of the four loko's and offered some to me. I don't drink, so I didn't drink much of either of the two, I drank maybe altogether half of one, probably not even that. I started to feel really weird, like time was distorting and my head was heavy.
I don't think he drugged me, to be honest with you, I have a really nasty reaction to alcohol anyway. I feel like, dead inside or something when I drink, like my body is just this puppet thing I'm attached to. Freaking weird, to say the least. Note, I don't drink enough that I realized that that'd happen to me. Anyway after only a few drinks I started to feel weird then realized hey, shit, I am alone with this guy. No one knows where I am. I know where I am. Okay. Stop drinking. So I did. I think I might have accidentally told him I was feeling weird. He definitely noticed when it was time to stand up, I needed help standing.
He helped me get to the nearest Wendy's, but I don't remember how we got there. I apparently had already started blacking out. (I hadn't eaten anything but that small dinner at the Mission)
When we got there the depression hit- there's a reason I never drink, I don't like it. I just wanted to be social. I was miserable, queasy, felt gross.. All I remember is him asking where I had money and I didn't want to tell him my wallet, where I had some twenties, so I told him about the change in the backpack, where I had about 10 bucks in quarters or something. He went up to the counter and got me a drink and a small burger and made me eat. Not like, angrily forced me, he was actually really nice about it. Then he said something about asking if I had anywhere to sleep that night and I said no, so he said he'd let me "sleep it off on his couch".
****TRIGGER WARNING***
Right. I remember very, very vaguely following him in the rain, just watching his feet in the dim light the streetlights emitted, and following him through puddles. By the time we got there I was soaked, and miserable. I don't remember most of it. I only remember maybe 5 minutes of the trip. He opened up the door to this old van thing, like the kind carpenters or people like that use who fix up houses? Then he said I needed to get my wet pants off and get warm, so I did. He still hadn't done anything threatening. So I huddled there and I think he talked my ear off for about twenty minutes and I fell asleep. That's when it began.
I woke up to him inside me. This still makes me feel sick, though it happened in 2010. I woke up to a big shape over me, and he was already having sex with me. I don't know how long he had been, because I felt slimy down there, and had a vague memory of something to do with saliva to make me wetter or something. I don't know, it makes me want to puke. It was terrifying. It was pitch black, so to my terrified half-awake mind he looked like a demon. It seemed to go on and on and I felt like I was covered in slime (though I wasn't) and totally disgusted. I asked "What... What's going on?" "What are you doing" "Please stop, I want to sleep.."
"Just one more minute.." It lasted longer. Finally with me crying and freaking out he sighed and laid down next to me. I rolled over away from him. It was too dark and I was too scared to even THINK about putting clothes on, it didn't even occur to me that I could have until the next day. I stared at nothing in that dark cluttered van, eyes wide open, trying to calm down and go to sleep. Then I felt his hand between my legs. I kept saying for I don't even know how long "I just want to sleep.." "Please let me sleep"
The next day I definitely felt violated. I felt like flames between my legs and NOT in a pleasant way. I woke up and couldn't find my clothes because the alcohol had hit me so hard the night before. He grabbed them for me and when I would have taken off said he'd show me to the MAX.
MAX? What the hell? I got outside and was hit even harder by terror of how badly it could have gone. It was terrifying enough but apparently whatever the hell a "Four loko" was, I *hadn't even remembered a 45 minute train ride*.
I had no clue where I was. The city was nowhere in sight. I was tense, quiet as he led me past a college campus I didn't recognize, and to the max station. He asked if I needed a ticket, I said I was fine, and he left. That's when I remembered something he'd said while I was drunk the night before. He'd talked about being an ex con and having an ex girlfriend and a kid. It hadn't registered. I shuddered all over, thinking about how much worse it could have been.
I met my husband that day. I don't remember if it was that day or the next or a week later but I tentatively confided in him (He was just a friend at the time) about feeling like I was burning. I had a urinary tract infection. When I went in to the Outside In clinic, they asked if I wanted to talk to someone about it. I said sure, but it never happened. They asked if I wanted to be tested for STD's and I said yes, and was terrified that I was. Thankfully, it was just a nasty urinary tract infection that lasted 3 weeks. This was a rape, too. Even if you have a rape happen for you, you DO NOT and CAN NOT speak for other people who have.
Making decisions for people who've been raped amplifies that feeling. You don't have the right.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
The First Step..
The first step is always the hardest. But first, let me backtrack and explain what I'm talking about, here.
I have an avoidance problem. And I don't mean a nice little oh I'm just going to avoid x situation.. I avoid REALITY. I avoid LIFE. Why? Because it's too much for me sometimes. I don't know why. I honestly wish I did. Or maybe I do know, and the answers hurt too much for me to want to face them yet. But I do know that my methods have changed. When I was growing up you could always find my nose buried in a book. Always. During class, everything. Fun fact? I almost flunked out of high school because I was reading too much. Not their books. More interesting ones.
But that's not my point here. I created worlds in my mind more fascinating to me than this one. I lived in my own head when books no longer worked, and frankly I went a bit crazy. Thankfully I snapped out of it with help but I had already found my newest obsession/secondary womb. The internet. At first I roleplayed and then I went to writing.com to get the excess creativity out of my head. I just wanted some of it gone, you see, some of the noise in my mind from all the thoughts and stuff.
Well, that didn't work out. I'm not going in chronological order here, I apologize. I first met the internet probably in like 7th grade. It went from there. I was on myspace for a while, and I updated my status and did the little bulletin surveys like a good little girl. I eventually made a new page, and I always blogged a lot. But I wasn't really connecting to other people. I only connected with a handful, who helped me through the nastiest phase in my mental transition.
When I say I went crazy, I won't go into details but it wasn't pretty. Not pretty at all. One of those who was as bad off as me back then, he contacted me about a year ago. I wasn't sure what to make of it, he was in a way my "enemy" for a short time. But I came to discover that he was a calm, gentle young man now and very wise. I became attached. He passed away in February, or early March (my sense of time is terrible) and it shook me. I never met him offline, but he had an impact on me. He was a beacon of light during the time I was most stressed and worried. He was a lovely gentlemen, gay, and his boyfriend added me as well I think after he passed..
I'm avoiding the subject at hand. I have an internet addiction. I'm aware of this. It's my safety net. I don't know how to handle people in person. People are scary, and you can never tell what they're going to do. I have also noticed that for me at least it's easier to be totally honest in person because people don't care. It's just the internet, right? so I can be more honest and meet people who suit me better. Unless they're lying, which has happened.
I have an addiction to those stupid little facebook games, and frankly it pisses me off. I don't really like them. I really don't. I know they're empty fluff designed to keep you hungry for more of a false sense of achievement.. And that irritates me. But I find myself going back to them time and again. Just like I find myself staying up late at night checking on my facebook, because "What if something happened?"
-_- Seriously, brain? It is a website. It is the internet. I care about the people on it. I need to learn to communicate externally from a website whose sole point is to get people to be on it all day. Facebook is not my life.
The first step is the hardest, right? Last night I didn't check my facebook before bed. I'd left it alone for 2 hours and *didn't check it*. This morning I wanted to post this as a status but changed my mind. Now, NOW I will check on those 28 notifications.
I have an avoidance problem. And I don't mean a nice little oh I'm just going to avoid x situation.. I avoid REALITY. I avoid LIFE. Why? Because it's too much for me sometimes. I don't know why. I honestly wish I did. Or maybe I do know, and the answers hurt too much for me to want to face them yet. But I do know that my methods have changed. When I was growing up you could always find my nose buried in a book. Always. During class, everything. Fun fact? I almost flunked out of high school because I was reading too much. Not their books. More interesting ones.
But that's not my point here. I created worlds in my mind more fascinating to me than this one. I lived in my own head when books no longer worked, and frankly I went a bit crazy. Thankfully I snapped out of it with help but I had already found my newest obsession/secondary womb. The internet. At first I roleplayed and then I went to writing.com to get the excess creativity out of my head. I just wanted some of it gone, you see, some of the noise in my mind from all the thoughts and stuff.
Well, that didn't work out. I'm not going in chronological order here, I apologize. I first met the internet probably in like 7th grade. It went from there. I was on myspace for a while, and I updated my status and did the little bulletin surveys like a good little girl. I eventually made a new page, and I always blogged a lot. But I wasn't really connecting to other people. I only connected with a handful, who helped me through the nastiest phase in my mental transition.
When I say I went crazy, I won't go into details but it wasn't pretty. Not pretty at all. One of those who was as bad off as me back then, he contacted me about a year ago. I wasn't sure what to make of it, he was in a way my "enemy" for a short time. But I came to discover that he was a calm, gentle young man now and very wise. I became attached. He passed away in February, or early March (my sense of time is terrible) and it shook me. I never met him offline, but he had an impact on me. He was a beacon of light during the time I was most stressed and worried. He was a lovely gentlemen, gay, and his boyfriend added me as well I think after he passed..
I'm avoiding the subject at hand. I have an internet addiction. I'm aware of this. It's my safety net. I don't know how to handle people in person. People are scary, and you can never tell what they're going to do. I have also noticed that for me at least it's easier to be totally honest in person because people don't care. It's just the internet, right? so I can be more honest and meet people who suit me better. Unless they're lying, which has happened.
I have an addiction to those stupid little facebook games, and frankly it pisses me off. I don't really like them. I really don't. I know they're empty fluff designed to keep you hungry for more of a false sense of achievement.. And that irritates me. But I find myself going back to them time and again. Just like I find myself staying up late at night checking on my facebook, because "What if something happened?"
-_- Seriously, brain? It is a website. It is the internet. I care about the people on it. I need to learn to communicate externally from a website whose sole point is to get people to be on it all day. Facebook is not my life.
The first step is the hardest, right? Last night I didn't check my facebook before bed. I'd left it alone for 2 hours and *didn't check it*. This morning I wanted to post this as a status but changed my mind. Now, NOW I will check on those 28 notifications.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Top Freedom
I just realized I haven't posted a blog about top freedom for women!
EGADS!
Time to correct that.
We all know I am a pretty liberal person. It's obvious. I also support top freedom for women and have for a decade.. and I am sick of the social stigmas attached to "toplessness" in women. I am sick of the bullshit lies people put on it. Here are just a few.
She's an attention whore.So, she's an attention whore for raising awareness that it is legal(or should be) for women to have the same bodily rights as men? If men can walk around shirtless on a 90+ degree day, why can't women? Because we are trained to think of it as sexual, private. We were born without clothes. I'm not saying we should all walk around naked (ewwwwwwww... Penises and vaginal folds o.O;) But really though? Breasts are breasts. Both have two nipples, one set is sometimes hairy. That's the only. freaking. difference.
For a woman to choose to exercise her right to walk around with nothing hiding her away from the world is not her way of saying LOOK AT ME, AND HOW HOT I AM or whatever.. It's more a statement of "This is me. Quit thinking in such restricted, childish tones."
You see, I have something to say about society, sheeple, and essentially being brainwashed. Nature Vs Nurture has a lot to do with how we think about things- and nurture has more to do with how we perceive different things in social situations. We have been trained over time to think of the following as part of a "Civilized world"- Covering and/or accentuating the breasts ad rear end, covering it up because it is "naughty". There are layers upon layers of societal rules, socially regimented actions, so many tiny little things keeping us in our "proper place". It's absurd, and cheapens us.
To believe that our bodies are just for sex, that our breasts are just there to appeal to males and make them horny cheapens us- not just females, but males as well. For, if males are really so bloody simple-minded that they cannot just see a pair of breasts and appreciate it without wanting to jump over whatever is between them and rape the woman, there is something wrong with our society.
Women have been held on a really awkward pedestal for a very long time. We must find stasis between being sexual creatures (which is odd for those of us who don't experience sexual desire), and being "socially acceptable". We must please men. Yeah. You read me, that's exactly what this is all about. It's not for women, for our protection or peace of mind. It is for men, and men alone. The fact that women have been trained to view their own bodies as something to be hidden at all costs is depressing.
See, I am of the opinion that human existence is not all about sex. Maybe that's because I am weird, or because I am asexual, but frankly to be told that my body is only here to provide sexual stimulus to another person is absurd. It hosts my brain, which is a very powerful machine. It contains my personality, and provides the ability to carry me from place to place. My breasts are here both for my own joy (Oh come on? Squishy things on my chest? I pat them like drums when I'm thinking. Judge me all you want!) and for my child's nutrition.
A woman choosing to not wear a shirt to make a social statement is no different than someone carrying a sign in a march, aside from the fact that they are just using the most natural "tools" we have- our body. It is the only thing we are born with. It has nothing to do with "lookitmahtits". Mkay? Mkay. Now that we have THAT settled...
"IT'S DAMAGING TO YOUNG CHILDREN!"
Really?? You know what was damaging to me? Being trained to view my own body as bad. Being told that things are "bad" and "naughty" and being taught to hide myself away.
Kids are smart. And kids don't tend to get horny upon seeing breasts. Kids don't attach the same lustful thoughts adults do. Parents think kids know things they don't, and end up messing kids up by being afraid of them being "negatively affected"
What am I talking about? Kids hear lyrics and repeat them, and get in trouble for it. They learn that sex is BAD and that anything associated with sex is BAD and it ends up becoming repressed issues later in life, all because parents are afraid the child will have sex too early and get pregnant. A kid seeing a pair of breasts is not going to damage them. You know what messed me up the most? Feeling like I wasn't equal to the boys I knew because when I was like 6-8 I couldn't take my shirt off. I'm sick of people being held to different standards due to their external organs.
And worst... "She's asking to get raped!"/"Oh, as soon as someone responds sexually AS THEY RIGHTLY SHOULD, she's going to whine about sexual harassment"
Seriously? I don't even know where to start with this one. Oh, I know! First of all, even if I were to address the sexist idea that a woman is asking to get raped because she is expressing the same right to not wear a shirt on a hot day, people would immediately follow it up with the bigger problem- that rape is not taken seriously in our culture. I can't tell you the amount of times I have heard people say men can't be raped because they always want sex. A) that's absurd. and b) it's extremely insulting to both genders, yet again, to have the stupid thoughts we have about rape and sexism in rape.
Men can't be raped because they always want sex with an attractive female? Really?? -_-
Now, to the other problem- this is yet again, surprise surprise, a double edged sword for women. If women DON'T want sex, we are either a prude, or a tease, or lying. If we DO, we are a slut and "asking for it". If a woman wears attractive colors, or tight clothes, and says she was raped, people have immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was a tease but did'nt stop it in time or deserved it.
So it's OKAY to rape people based on their appearance? Ahh, that makes so much sense to me now, thanks for the update!
Seriously. I will be doing this this summer, and I don't care what people say, I am not doing it to mess with children or turn people on.
EGADS!
Time to correct that.
We all know I am a pretty liberal person. It's obvious. I also support top freedom for women and have for a decade.. and I am sick of the social stigmas attached to "toplessness" in women. I am sick of the bullshit lies people put on it. Here are just a few.
She's an attention whore.So, she's an attention whore for raising awareness that it is legal(or should be) for women to have the same bodily rights as men? If men can walk around shirtless on a 90+ degree day, why can't women? Because we are trained to think of it as sexual, private. We were born without clothes. I'm not saying we should all walk around naked (ewwwwwwww... Penises and vaginal folds o.O;) But really though? Breasts are breasts. Both have two nipples, one set is sometimes hairy. That's the only. freaking. difference.
For a woman to choose to exercise her right to walk around with nothing hiding her away from the world is not her way of saying LOOK AT ME, AND HOW HOT I AM or whatever.. It's more a statement of "This is me. Quit thinking in such restricted, childish tones."
You see, I have something to say about society, sheeple, and essentially being brainwashed. Nature Vs Nurture has a lot to do with how we think about things- and nurture has more to do with how we perceive different things in social situations. We have been trained over time to think of the following as part of a "Civilized world"- Covering and/or accentuating the breasts ad rear end, covering it up because it is "naughty". There are layers upon layers of societal rules, socially regimented actions, so many tiny little things keeping us in our "proper place". It's absurd, and cheapens us.
To believe that our bodies are just for sex, that our breasts are just there to appeal to males and make them horny cheapens us- not just females, but males as well. For, if males are really so bloody simple-minded that they cannot just see a pair of breasts and appreciate it without wanting to jump over whatever is between them and rape the woman, there is something wrong with our society.
Women have been held on a really awkward pedestal for a very long time. We must find stasis between being sexual creatures (which is odd for those of us who don't experience sexual desire), and being "socially acceptable". We must please men. Yeah. You read me, that's exactly what this is all about. It's not for women, for our protection or peace of mind. It is for men, and men alone. The fact that women have been trained to view their own bodies as something to be hidden at all costs is depressing.
See, I am of the opinion that human existence is not all about sex. Maybe that's because I am weird, or because I am asexual, but frankly to be told that my body is only here to provide sexual stimulus to another person is absurd. It hosts my brain, which is a very powerful machine. It contains my personality, and provides the ability to carry me from place to place. My breasts are here both for my own joy (Oh come on? Squishy things on my chest? I pat them like drums when I'm thinking. Judge me all you want!) and for my child's nutrition.
A woman choosing to not wear a shirt to make a social statement is no different than someone carrying a sign in a march, aside from the fact that they are just using the most natural "tools" we have- our body. It is the only thing we are born with. It has nothing to do with "lookitmahtits". Mkay? Mkay. Now that we have THAT settled...
"IT'S DAMAGING TO YOUNG CHILDREN!"
Really?? You know what was damaging to me? Being trained to view my own body as bad. Being told that things are "bad" and "naughty" and being taught to hide myself away.
Kids are smart. And kids don't tend to get horny upon seeing breasts. Kids don't attach the same lustful thoughts adults do. Parents think kids know things they don't, and end up messing kids up by being afraid of them being "negatively affected"
What am I talking about? Kids hear lyrics and repeat them, and get in trouble for it. They learn that sex is BAD and that anything associated with sex is BAD and it ends up becoming repressed issues later in life, all because parents are afraid the child will have sex too early and get pregnant. A kid seeing a pair of breasts is not going to damage them. You know what messed me up the most? Feeling like I wasn't equal to the boys I knew because when I was like 6-8 I couldn't take my shirt off. I'm sick of people being held to different standards due to their external organs.
And worst... "She's asking to get raped!"/"Oh, as soon as someone responds sexually AS THEY RIGHTLY SHOULD, she's going to whine about sexual harassment"
Seriously? I don't even know where to start with this one. Oh, I know! First of all, even if I were to address the sexist idea that a woman is asking to get raped because she is expressing the same right to not wear a shirt on a hot day, people would immediately follow it up with the bigger problem- that rape is not taken seriously in our culture. I can't tell you the amount of times I have heard people say men can't be raped because they always want sex. A) that's absurd. and b) it's extremely insulting to both genders, yet again, to have the stupid thoughts we have about rape and sexism in rape.
Men can't be raped because they always want sex with an attractive female? Really?? -_-
Now, to the other problem- this is yet again, surprise surprise, a double edged sword for women. If women DON'T want sex, we are either a prude, or a tease, or lying. If we DO, we are a slut and "asking for it". If a woman wears attractive colors, or tight clothes, and says she was raped, people have immediately jumped to the conclusion that she was a tease but did'nt stop it in time or deserved it.
So it's OKAY to rape people based on their appearance? Ahh, that makes so much sense to me now, thanks for the update!
Seriously. I will be doing this this summer, and I don't care what people say, I am not doing it to mess with children or turn people on.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Police Brutality
This is an entirely opinion oriented blog(as all mine are...) and as such you are entitled to disagree with parts or all of it. Just gotta get some things off my mind.
So far since Occupy's inception we have seen a vast multitude of police abuses across the board, and a very diverse assembly of reactions to such. From the old woman in Seattle who was pepper sprayed, to the now Pepper Spray Cop meme from the guy in Oakland who acted as if the protestors were not even human, to the beatings in every city (The Marine who was beaten in Oakland I believe it was, a woman who almost had a broken neck from something hitting her in the jaw/neck so hard, a 15 year old here in Portland's been brutalized more than once, a woman I know was grabbed by the hair, the list goes on and on) we have seen pain.
It's not nearly over yet. Judging from the past protests, all the way back to the 60's, those "in charge" have always answered any kind of uprising(Not even necessarily a threat to their way of life, just people using their first amendment right to say their piece) with violence. In rare cases, perhaps I'm wrong. But more often than not, I'm right in this.
I'm here to say that, obviously, that's not right. I will get a bit more opinionated then go back to the point, so give me a chance and keep reading, please.
I am pretty strong in my "hippie views", though I don't like labeling myself. I don't like that I am labeled as an American because I happened to be born here. I don't like that due to that label, I need to pay taxes that are not used for things I agree with, and that I need to abide by rules other people who have never met me made. Some of them make sense to me, others just seem arbitrary at best.
I find it disgusting that the rights we were "Given" in this country upon its inception, the rights the original people who moved here chose to uphold because the were being ignored in Europe are now being ignored and twisted by our own government. We are becoming a fascist nation, with the only differece being we don't have one specific dictator. In a way, I wonder if this is not worse.
We are becoming bound up in our own contract, in our own laws, tied into knots around our ankles and wrists, the wording twisted to suit those in power.
I have a serious problem with the fact that without a petition, aka approval, a group cannot march for whatever purpose without the fear of police brutality just because those in power don't like to hear criticisms.
No. I will not be quiet about the fact that I am afraid to march, to make my opinion known for fear of my son's safety. An infant, 4 months old. The fact that we the people have come to accept this as a matter of course is disturbing indeed.
Because once you accept it as a necessary evil, it's that much harder to change.
I shouldn't be afraid to voice my opinions, and take my son along in a baby backpack. These are our rights we are talking about. It's a deeper issue in my opinion than just cops hitting people (which is terrible enough), but more a matter of us being silenced effectively in a way that goes against the very Constitution our laws are based on.
But I'm not kidding myself. Things are going to get worse, not better. This is a fight that will not be won easily. There may even be deaths. People are angry, and people are getting confused, mixed signals.
Some who are not protesting have been fed propaganda to such a degree that they've grown accustomed to thinking of Protestors as people who are "disturbing the peace". The thing is, the peace is a lie- it is already disturbed, it's just hiding under a thin veneer of "Everything is okay".
Even if protestors were "Disturbing the peace", it is our right to take up problems we have with our government. If the Government no longer works in your favor, make a new Government- but that's not so possible these days, is it?
I am positive the violence will escalate. And that bothers me. I'll protest, in my way, but the fact that I can't be on the street for the fear of the safety of my child is a very strong sign that something is wrong.
So far since Occupy's inception we have seen a vast multitude of police abuses across the board, and a very diverse assembly of reactions to such. From the old woman in Seattle who was pepper sprayed, to the now Pepper Spray Cop meme from the guy in Oakland who acted as if the protestors were not even human, to the beatings in every city (The Marine who was beaten in Oakland I believe it was, a woman who almost had a broken neck from something hitting her in the jaw/neck so hard, a 15 year old here in Portland's been brutalized more than once, a woman I know was grabbed by the hair, the list goes on and on) we have seen pain.
It's not nearly over yet. Judging from the past protests, all the way back to the 60's, those "in charge" have always answered any kind of uprising(Not even necessarily a threat to their way of life, just people using their first amendment right to say their piece) with violence. In rare cases, perhaps I'm wrong. But more often than not, I'm right in this.
I'm here to say that, obviously, that's not right. I will get a bit more opinionated then go back to the point, so give me a chance and keep reading, please.
I am pretty strong in my "hippie views", though I don't like labeling myself. I don't like that I am labeled as an American because I happened to be born here. I don't like that due to that label, I need to pay taxes that are not used for things I agree with, and that I need to abide by rules other people who have never met me made. Some of them make sense to me, others just seem arbitrary at best.
I find it disgusting that the rights we were "Given" in this country upon its inception, the rights the original people who moved here chose to uphold because the were being ignored in Europe are now being ignored and twisted by our own government. We are becoming a fascist nation, with the only differece being we don't have one specific dictator. In a way, I wonder if this is not worse.
We are becoming bound up in our own contract, in our own laws, tied into knots around our ankles and wrists, the wording twisted to suit those in power.
I have a serious problem with the fact that without a petition, aka approval, a group cannot march for whatever purpose without the fear of police brutality just because those in power don't like to hear criticisms.
No. I will not be quiet about the fact that I am afraid to march, to make my opinion known for fear of my son's safety. An infant, 4 months old. The fact that we the people have come to accept this as a matter of course is disturbing indeed.
Because once you accept it as a necessary evil, it's that much harder to change.
I shouldn't be afraid to voice my opinions, and take my son along in a baby backpack. These are our rights we are talking about. It's a deeper issue in my opinion than just cops hitting people (which is terrible enough), but more a matter of us being silenced effectively in a way that goes against the very Constitution our laws are based on.
But I'm not kidding myself. Things are going to get worse, not better. This is a fight that will not be won easily. There may even be deaths. People are angry, and people are getting confused, mixed signals.
Some who are not protesting have been fed propaganda to such a degree that they've grown accustomed to thinking of Protestors as people who are "disturbing the peace". The thing is, the peace is a lie- it is already disturbed, it's just hiding under a thin veneer of "Everything is okay".
Even if protestors were "Disturbing the peace", it is our right to take up problems we have with our government. If the Government no longer works in your favor, make a new Government- but that's not so possible these days, is it?
I am positive the violence will escalate. And that bothers me. I'll protest, in my way, but the fact that I can't be on the street for the fear of the safety of my child is a very strong sign that something is wrong.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Sexuality vs Sexuality
Yep, I'm doing it again. Another weird one... Sorta.
Now, I have a different spin on the entire thing, being asexual. For those who haven't read the earlier blogs, yes, I identify as asexual. I don't feel sexual desire. I don't want sex. Sex is boring. Yes, I'm married. Yes, I have a kid. That does not mean I am someone who likes or wants sex, it means I love my husband.
Sexuality has more than one meaning, and as our culture is very sex-obsessed, I thought I'd address how I see people who exude "sex appeal". Hell, I can feel sexy, or something similar, too, and I don't want sex. They have nothing to do with one another. The idea for this blog came to me after seeing the new Repo: The Genetic Opera, from the character the Graverobber.
I realized last night that I caught myself calling him sexy, though that wasn't what I meant. I just don't know the vocabulary for what I am referring to. There are certain traits that when put together draw me in. I call it "sexy" but what I really mean is not "you're gorgeous, I would love to sleep with that man/woman", but "You are a beautiful character (real person or fictional) who has a personality I am attracted to, I would love to give you a huge hug and talk for hours, you'd be awesome to hang out with."
A bit more wordy, huh?
I feel this in varying degrees for different people. I feel it a lot for my husband, with an added kick of "I can't imagine my life without you in it, and your penis is kind of cute..." as opposed to OH GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING??? (I feel the same way toward vaginas, but I haven't seen any but my own up close.)
In all seriousness though (And sorry if I embarrassed you, honey <3), I don't differentiate love. Perhaps my brain chemistry is confused between affection and curiosity. I don't know. But, yeah, there's that.
I can see body art (usually full body body paint) photos and find it beautiful, but porn makes me want to vomit. It takes the beauty away from the human body and diminishes it into a short, totally focused act of two people grunting and humping for a few minutes. Oh yeah, gorgeous.
Sorry, no one ever looks good in porn. In my experience someone is always getting dominated, and thus it seems less about what (I imagine) sex is about, than momentary pleasure you could get yourself from a toy or your hand. Frankly, I don't get why people watch it.
That's weird enough, right? Hold on to your panties, kids, I'm not nearly done yet.
Next, is something even weirder. Yeah, I know! I'm like Queen Weird of Castle Crazy.
But really...
I can feel gorgeous. Sexy(kinda?) I like the idea of doing amazing photos, nude and not. Nudity is not sexual, at least to me. It's part of who I am. The clothes I wear I put on sometimes for me, more often because sadly our culture is so hypersexualized if I were to go topless people would stare in shock.
I like that power, kinda. Not to the point where I want to get famous for it, or get attention all the time, but sometimes it's fun to surprise people.
But, yeah. I see things from an entirely different point of view. Someone can be sexy, but not make you want to have sex.... right? Or am I wrong?
I don't even know, and that's why I blog.
Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me <3
Now, I have a different spin on the entire thing, being asexual. For those who haven't read the earlier blogs, yes, I identify as asexual. I don't feel sexual desire. I don't want sex. Sex is boring. Yes, I'm married. Yes, I have a kid. That does not mean I am someone who likes or wants sex, it means I love my husband.
Sexuality has more than one meaning, and as our culture is very sex-obsessed, I thought I'd address how I see people who exude "sex appeal". Hell, I can feel sexy, or something similar, too, and I don't want sex. They have nothing to do with one another. The idea for this blog came to me after seeing the new Repo: The Genetic Opera, from the character the Graverobber.
I realized last night that I caught myself calling him sexy, though that wasn't what I meant. I just don't know the vocabulary for what I am referring to. There are certain traits that when put together draw me in. I call it "sexy" but what I really mean is not "you're gorgeous, I would love to sleep with that man/woman", but "You are a beautiful character (real person or fictional) who has a personality I am attracted to, I would love to give you a huge hug and talk for hours, you'd be awesome to hang out with."
A bit more wordy, huh?
I feel this in varying degrees for different people. I feel it a lot for my husband, with an added kick of "I can't imagine my life without you in it, and your penis is kind of cute..." as opposed to OH GOD, WHAT IS THAT THING??? (I feel the same way toward vaginas, but I haven't seen any but my own up close.)
In all seriousness though (And sorry if I embarrassed you, honey <3), I don't differentiate love. Perhaps my brain chemistry is confused between affection and curiosity. I don't know. But, yeah, there's that.
I can see body art (usually full body body paint) photos and find it beautiful, but porn makes me want to vomit. It takes the beauty away from the human body and diminishes it into a short, totally focused act of two people grunting and humping for a few minutes. Oh yeah, gorgeous.
Sorry, no one ever looks good in porn. In my experience someone is always getting dominated, and thus it seems less about what (I imagine) sex is about, than momentary pleasure you could get yourself from a toy or your hand. Frankly, I don't get why people watch it.
That's weird enough, right? Hold on to your panties, kids, I'm not nearly done yet.
Next, is something even weirder. Yeah, I know! I'm like Queen Weird of Castle Crazy.
But really...
I can feel gorgeous. Sexy(kinda?) I like the idea of doing amazing photos, nude and not. Nudity is not sexual, at least to me. It's part of who I am. The clothes I wear I put on sometimes for me, more often because sadly our culture is so hypersexualized if I were to go topless people would stare in shock.
I like that power, kinda. Not to the point where I want to get famous for it, or get attention all the time, but sometimes it's fun to surprise people.
But, yeah. I see things from an entirely different point of view. Someone can be sexy, but not make you want to have sex.... right? Or am I wrong?
I don't even know, and that's why I blog.
Thank you for reading. It means a lot to me <3
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