Thursday, July 14, 2011

Plastic caps that twist, don't snap

I just spend forever trying to open this new eye roller (to diminish dark circles as I look like a zombie) that I bought at the drugstore today.  Okay, it may have been more like a minute or two, but that's still much longer than the ten seconds it should have taken.  Apparently, I was supposed to twist the damn thing to take off the cap.  What kind of plastic cap on a cosmetic product twists instead of snaps off?  Ridiculous...or I'm just trying to justify myself.  The cap obviously isn't idiot proof.

Moving on, I was going to post a poem, but I have an actual dilemma.  See, I've been trying to mentally figure out how long I can pretend that I "want to go slow" with this new guy I've been having dinner with on occasion.  I won't say we're dating because I just can't handle that kind of acknowledgement, BUT eventually, he's going to get sick of me if I continue to stop him from being a typical male.  They always just want one thing, and I feel like I'm always being used.  They'll buy me lots of drinks, and then I wake up, thinking, "shit, what happened?"  Naturally, I don't ask because I don't want to know.  Ignorance is bliss, yes?

I don't like to be touched; it creeps me out.  It probably goes with what I was saying in my previous post.  When anyone touches me on my shoulder, head, etc, etc, I just feel strange, like a tingle or an out of body experience.  I'm not very well connected with my physical body, and I frequently try to pretend like it's not actually mine.  But this poses a problem when starting a relationship with someone.  Constantly being afraid just makes things worse, and can someone truly be alone forever?  Maybe I will be; I don't honestly know.

There's also the problem with my arms having scars up and down them.  Mederma, why haven't you been working your magic?  Mendacious little fucker.  It's hard for me to figure out how someone would react to that kind of thing.  To me, it seems like no big deal, but my thoughts tend not to be in line with other people.  I think it will just be the end of our little fling.  So I guess I'll just enjoy it while it lasts, knowing that it's going to end abruptly.

P.S.  I'm wondering how many people will be playing Quidditch in parking lots tonight.  I don't know when I'll finally drag my ass to a movie theatre, but hopefully everyone has smiling faces tomorrow.  Oh, and I'm going to try to incorporate my GRE words into my posts periodically because that's the only way I'll learn my vocab before the exam...most of the words are absolutely ridiculous...WAIT!

I have a word for that:  onerous (in my erudite opinion).

Tuesday, July 12, 2011


I just had my period for 1.5 days.  It's over now.  Phew!  I really don't enjoy having it, but I know that I shouldn't complain when I get it only occasionally and never have it for more than a couple of days.  It's a natural part of life, but I tend to have a strong dislike for these things.  I don't like eating, sleeping, drinking water, breathing...they're all just necessities that seem to get in my way.  Unfortunately, I try to go without these things for as long as I can or minimize them as much as possible (and yes, that includes breathing), but it never ends well.  I try to eat meager amounts until I binge, I try to be an insomniac until I'm hallucinating and falling asleep while walking, I ignore drinking water until my brain feels like it's bleeding because of dehydration, and I try to take shallow breaths or hold it until I eventually am forced to take a deep one.

I know it seems strange that these things bother me, but I can't help it.  I just feel weak and, well, so human when I have to sleep or have to drink or have to breathe.  Why can't I be better, stronger, and not so ordinary?  I could never complain to someone that I'm hungry, like a girl at work is always doing, because I want to have the strength to ignore that irritating (and yet, morbidly pleasant) rumbling and burning in my stomach.  It's a matter of mental strength, a battle of will.  If I want to believe that I'm not hungry, then damn it, I'm going to convince myself of it.  I think I do a decent job convincing myself of things that aren't real or true; that's part of the reason why my thoughts terrify me sometimes.  I worry that eventually I will convince myself of something that is terrible or will be the death of me.  Until then...

I'll post another poem soon, by the way.  The last one I literally typed in 5 minutes out of sheer boredom, but I'd like to write another one that I actually edit and check for some kind of flow.  I have a penchant for poetry when I'm lonely at night...there's a lot stored on my computer in the most random of places.

Monday, July 11, 2011

when my mind is reeling and words are seeping

We bask in the sunlight to hide from the night
We flip the switch to turn on the lights
We run from the shadows and flee from dark corners
We cry at our funerals and join Death's mourners.

When do we learn our inevitable fate,
to bask not in light but accept it's too late.
Time won't stand still and we continue to die
Dying each day, why be scared and why cry.

I've lived my life and regret everything
I think on the past and would change anything
I'm still searching for the day that I wake from this dream
hoping that my life was not all that it seems.

These empty years, I wait for a different day
one where the sun rises in the west and sets in the east
when the cock crows at dusk and the birds sing in the moonlight
and yet I wait and I wait and I continue to count
as the clock keeps ticking at the same dulling rate.

I can't move mountains or walk on water,
I can't leap from a bridge just to fly to shore,
I can't fix the peace or stop world wars,
but I can ponder and think and mentally wonder,
creating great visions inside of my head
to give my life meaning in the real one's stead.

One day I will wake up and the world will be different,
the spitting image of what I've dreamt it to be.
That day will be beautiful and forever to me
as I lie in my bed, tailor made in dimension
and three and three more feet under.