Category Archives: Summer Days/Nights
The personality type of the “Jealous One” is a known thing to everyone on the planet. Why do these people even exist? Do you consider yourself the jealous one? I’ve never considered myself the jealous one until a few weeks ago.
This is because I liked someone who was a “Jealous One” and he seemed to be rather possessive. Which isn’t new to me, but what was new is I actually enjoyed it. It made me feel wanted until I realized it was all just words.
He never really was possessive or jealous or protective, he just wanted to pretend to be someone he wasn’t.
The Characteristics of a Lying Asshole:
1. Blanket Excuses. This is so he doesn’t he get his story confused and he uses the same excuses multiple times in one day. But the next day or the day before could be totally different excuses for the same problem.
2. When friend’s of friend’s give you looks. The sideways, “Hey, did you know what was just happening?” look. Because he was hitting on another girl and you weren’t present, but he won’t say a word.
3. Won’t look you in the eye – but says you have to look into his. If it isn’t obvious already, he’s been lying and still wants to make sure you feel the same way while he flip-flops.
4. Talking the talk, not walking the walk. When he says he is going to do all these romantic things with you, but never does. It’s not because you guys couldn’t find the time, it is because it will never happen.
5. When he wants you to come to him but he won’t come to you. This is because he doesn’t want to say where he’s been so he just asks where you are but wont say where he was.
6. When you learn. You stopped talking to him and you’re mutual friends tell you what really went down.
7. Walking in on the wrong show. He’s folding another girl in plain sight. Try not to barf right there.
8. “Jealous one”. Now you feel like you’re the jealous one. Don’t sweat it, you’re just a normal human being with feelings. They deserve each other.
At the end of the day, I’m not actually jealous, just really sad.
I know it’s silly that I say this, but humans kinda suck at being human sometimes.
Like those times when we are all “oh I’m so good at talking to people and being the social creature I was created to be,” and all the sudden you hate everyone and don’t ever want to see human faces ever again. Unless it’s in a TV show where you don’t have to interact with them physically.
I’ve had times like this lately.
Then there is the other side of being less human: people who lack empathy and mercy, they are the people who have shut off their human compassion to hedonism or some strange thing.
Ironically enough, I have met a sociopath. Many people think that sociopaths are the ones that lack empathy or connection, but I think it’s the opposite. They have empathy, they crave connection, but they don’t have the capability to perform them in the human way. They are angry in love, they are angry in empathy…. just angry.
Differing from a psychopath, a sociopath can be attached emotionally to others, but it is harder for them to. They also tend to be very strange and hard to connect with.
Normal humans, can be hedonistic, but that’s like taking a part of humanity and putting a magnifying glass over it and using selfishness as your governing motive. Base needs are taken for granted and greed replaces reason and sympathy.
Normal humans experience greed, selfishness and other things but can look past oneself and care for others, it’s part of what makes us human, because we can control ourselves this way unlike animals, who mostly will rely on instinct and survival needs to function.
Humans complicate their lives with everything….. like blogging for instance.
A useless and rigorous application of words to random subjects that catch my interest fulfills my need to write mostly. But sometimes my personal blog isn’t personal enough since, it is published to the world.
A human thing, to have self-importance. A silly human thing.
To the tune of “Yellow” by Cold Play
Ever imagine your life is a movie?
Now I know You’re in Fucking Georgia X would say his was a tragedy, but I think he is wrong, I think his is a comedy.
All the sad things that happen are surrounded in laughter because it’s life. Things go wrong, all your plans fall apart, and waiting two years for someone to come back, or be ready, or get a job, is silly because no one knows what’ll happen in two years.
I remember when on the guy list it said my boyfriend was him. And it was a good year to blog because I had a lot of funny things to say. A lot of inspiration from all the happiness and pointless drama back in 2012.
(to Georgia) Maybe things will be better this year because now that we know it’s been 2 years and we’ve lived apart and grown, or aged as you say, we have come to this day knowing something would change. We changed as people. I still know you better than I ever thought I could know someone, and you know me too, although I never thought I’d meet someone who was more of a dreamer than me, but I think you make the definition of a dreamer a beautiful thing. Yellow.
I had to be sappy ok? Sometimes life needs some sap.
Because your life as a comedy and mine as a romance makes one hell of a Rom-com even if we aren’t the couple at the end, maybe the couple at the end is Michon and Arthur, or Oliver and some bimbo…. Or even a weird Arkansaw chick with MJ…. Who knows.
But the end isn’t here yet, it’s far, far, away….
1. “I wish my name was book, so I could go up to girls and say: ‘hey ladies, you wanna go and curl up with a nice me?'” -JR
This boy amuses me a lot.
2. “Have you ever tried to drink a really thick milk shake?”
“That’s better than sex!” (this boy referring to a bunch of virtual gold)
“No its not. Dont you say that.” (Another boy)
I have this fantasy now and then about what my funeral would be like. I have asked people if they also fantasize about this, but it seems not many people do it as often as I do.
It’s not that I want to be dead, or that I have an extreme interest in things pertaining to, associated, and related to death, but I do have an interest in the psychological idea of death. The philosopher’s analysis of death is very good, and I have found through much research in new and old texts whilst writing that mortality does have a meaning. It is not simply a curse or a new cycle of reincarnation (recycling back into mulch and outwards again.) nor is it a form of elimination to support evolutionists idea of survival of the fittest; mortality is all about moving on, living fully, and know if we all lived forever, what would it matter?
So what does it matter? That I will die, at a time where I will most likely be unprepared to die, my financial life will be a mess, and my last testament will most likely be written in an old diary from 8th grade. What does it matter that I could die tomorrow or not for 80 years? What does it matter that I think about my death, my mortality, my shelf life, my expiration date.
It matters because I am not living life avoiding my death. It matters because, I don’t say: “Yolo”, I say “I live once because living forever is meaningless, so I should make my small meaning especially perplexing, influencing and beautiful. ” I’ve been thinking about my own funeral everyday for a while now. How I want it to be, what the flowers will look like, what kind of decoration there will be, if I will insist people dress in rainbow or as animals or not… whether I want to be cremated or buried. If coffinated, will it be open? Will my mother die before or after me? What will my friends say? Who will cry the most at the altar? Who will throw a fit and punch my xboyfriends? I have questions.
Here is a list of what I think I want:
All flowers will either be rainbow, or black.
Chairs should be more like movie seats.
Pictures of me should be posted better than on poster board…
The podium should have vines all over it.
Attendees should either wear all white, all Rainbow, or if preferable, black.
ushers are encouraged to wear rainbow.
The service itself should be filled with what other people have to say about who I was, telling many stories, and presenting different items of writing/art/music that I liked or created. My family should have last words.
None of my xes are aloud to speak. (unless they rock)
If forcefully buried, coffin should be gratified so should grave. Please give me art on my place of “rest”.
I don’t believe that heaven arrival happens immediately after death… so I will just chill with Aristotle and Plato a tad… maybe have a chat with Parmenides and Heraclitus.
Listening to the radio this morning (kiss 108 or 10.79) a song called “In my head” started playing. Jason de Rulo started singing to this girl in a club telling her about this fantasy he had of them….
Think for a minute, if some random guy started singing you this song in a club telling you he wanted you to come with him and “fulfill his fantasies” wouldn’t you run away screaming while he “serenaded” you with rapist thoughts? I think you would call the police, that’s sexual harassment!
He must really think he’s something if he acts like a sexual offender and still gets women. Crazy humans.
On a happier less disturbing note, I’ve gone less than a month without a boyfriend!! *Cheers* *cries..* *finds some other guy to disappoint me* *cries* Ah the circle of teenage life.
My dad patted me on the back and said, ‘It’ll only happen 15 more times….” Great encouragement. Really.
I guess I’ll go and listen to Gotye more…and bemoan my life like a pathetic teenage Montague named Romeo..but mostly I feel like bewildered Benvolio, shell-shocked from all that Romeo and Mercutio bicker about.
Well, recklessness and stupidity aside, summer’s been good! Just a few more bridge jumps and I think I’ll be satisfied.
I’m writing this while listening to my favorite band. (can you guess?)
I’ve been raised to not swear by my mom, and to swear (especially when drunk) by my father. Now that I am a young adult I can make more decisions for myself, such as what vocab I use. At 12, I hung with a cruel group of teens a few years older than me who liked to swear in random bursts. I didn’t really like it then and only tried to stop them. But I got addicted to the sound of the words, the effect they had on other people’s faces, and the way they made my sentences sound. The way they made me sound. I sounded dangerous, rebellious, different, and somewhere between grown up and immature. Until I was 14, I loved the swears, but something changed. I cant remember what it was, maybe it was something I heard somewhere.. maybe at Berea, the trip I went on with my youth group. Or maybe it was the falling out I had with my group of ruffians after my disaster of a three-way birthday party. (Joe and I both turning 14 in the same month and Josh turning 17.) It was the worst birthday party in the history of my birthday parties (and I have had some pretty bad ones.) That year I entered 9th grade early, and went to the public high for Drama club and met new best friend Nick D. He swore even more than my old friends. But the difference between him and them is when I asked him to not swear, he would try. He cared about me and respected my views, even if those views were confusing for him to understand. We ended up spending almost everyday together for around 4 months, maybe more. Both of us having a very platonic relationship. And we spoke freely about our relationships at the time, and neither lasted. He turned me to swearing again, but this time it wasn’t to hear my voice, or to see other people reactions, it was for the true use of passion in speech. It was for usage and not for impression.
Nick taught me a lot about things I had never thought of. After all he was 2 years older than me and much less naive as I was. Some things I took badly too, other things I liked. He’s at boot camp now. And he’ll be graduating this coming year. I miss him.
Although I was more used to swearing because of him, I barely used it. It wasn’t something I needed. It wasn’t part of my daily vocabulary. It wasn’t necessary.
My 15 birthday brought so much joy, it was the best party ever! Although I was still heart broken from my little fling during the fall, I was willing to put it behind me for an amazing night with my best girlfriends. And it truly was the best night. It was even better than prom. Everyone dressed as fairies and looked unique because they brought their own take on what a fairy would be like. My hair was completely purple so I was a dark faery of the night. That night we swore. We laughed, and we laughed so hard we cried and swore more. We played truth or dare and swore happily, we played Kings and swore, because everything we said was unspeakable in public. We watched a movie and cursed at it. We had so much fun. And so peacefully we slept in my living room after eating to the brink of barfing candy, cake and pizza. I’ll never forget that night.
I started gaming a lot. I played Xbox almost daily. And everyone I met online, including my new boyfriend was avidly swearing about everything. They missed a shot on someone during a quick scoping match, they would cuss loudly. If someone made fun of their gamer-tag, an exchange of cuss words and profanities were thrown around, sometimes peppered with sexist or racist comments. Whenever I spoke with my boyfriend and his friends on Xbox their was so much swearing I wouldn’t let my parents hear the volume on the TV. I kept it strictly in the Turtle Beach Headset. Almost the opposite happened when I was on the phone with him. He barely swore when he was away from the Xbox. I swore more when I was away from it. We broke up 3 weeks ago but it had nothing to do with swearing and everything to do with indecision and unsureness. We talked on the phone for 2 hours today to talk about a lot things. We laughed and swore a lot. We swore because people in our lives are fucked. His brother died this month. Our ‘friends’ tried to break us up an uncountable amount of times, and we had struggled for sometime. But its water under the bridge, and my bridge is made of the strongest stuff, they wont be getting at me any time soon.
I used a lot of swears today. And in the past months since February 20th 2012 I have sworn more and more. And have become more and more aware and accustomed to swears. I don’t see them as bad, I see them as expression of wrong, but not wrong itself.
What do you think about swears?
Chuck Norris’s secret trainer
Dan Wells (danisnotonfire)
Paul Dano (AMAZING ACTOR)
Benjamin Stone (AKA ALEK Russian born English raised Demi-god, *cough* God of Hottnessss)
Burnie Burns (CREATOR OF RVB)
Toby Turner (Tobuscus)
Eric (YOU FREAKING NERD)
Native American guy name Ray who was made up by my friend….
I got a lot of paper work to do. Be back in a million life times.
I’ve been subscribed to on Face Book by DorkDownTown and he wont leave my statuses alone or my picture uploads. I never said I hated him, quite the contrary, but really? everything must be virtually touched by you on the Ethernet?
Anyways.. The title of this ^^ is about my favorite band which makes me exceedingly happy. And I just erased an emoticon from that sentence. Emoticons have taken our precious language and vocabulary and turning it into symbols that some how represent facial expressions that then in turn represent inner emotions. What is my generation coming to? Clinical depression and anorexia? Not much good is coming of the social networks. Though billions of dollars have been made from just Farm-ville no doubt, I’m not quite sure if the encouragement of virtual farm care is very good for the working class populace which should actually go out and take care of their own farm, with real animals that probably need food, water, and fresh hay, and not to mention tender-love-and-care.
In an explanation of my immaturity, I may not be right about 99.99% of the stuff I write, doesn’t mean I shouldn’t write it, just means, don’t quote me on the Farm-ville producing billions of dollars in sales and stuff like that.. because I don’t know anything.
I think I’m getting too political right now.. so I’m not going to write anymore. It could be detrimental to my future career…. If this blog isn’t already.
This title actually for once has to do with my topic of blog. I went to this meeting for my school thingy, and I disagreed with a lot of the things they were discussing. I felt that Mr. Teacher was subtly defending me even though I didn’t speak up for myself. Mrs. Administrator was speaking, and she just got that sound in her voice that every kid I know despises. That soft tone, that even if you try to raise your voice to it, you wont be able to. impenetrable like the evil demon skin I was talking about earlier. I felt like emailing him and telling him, “Thanks for defending me on the modesty thing, because if I had spoken for myself, I think I would have bit her head off!” I was extremely conscious of the way she was hinting in her speech that many of her modesty rules probably were based off of judgments or complaints for what I wear. I wonder how many of those there are? What if the entire school gets all their feathers ruffled because of me? (laughs extremely hard) That would be the best day of my life.
I forgot how much I like getting a rise out of people. Especially Christian people who think I’m “blasphemous”.
A small thing that makes me think better of my frustrations: “Dear Lord…” Giles said taking his glasses with practiced grace from his bent nose and cleaning them with a handkerchief flipped out of his front vest pocket and wiping them meticulously.
I love Anthony Head that plays Rupert Giles in Buffy! Best surprised and disappointed lines ever. Joss Whedon must have really enjoyed writing the script for him..