Katy Perry is a Whore >_>

Once I can turn the radio on without rolling my eyes after five minutes, I think we will have reached a new era of progress. I’m not holding my breath though. That this day will come soon is doubtful. It seems as though all that mainstream music attempts to do is glorify superficiality, conformity and monotony; stealing beats the same way that Vanilla Ice ripped off Queen and splicing genuine inspiration with failed attempts at drollery or overly serious (and often egomaniacal) soliloquies. People are heavily influenced by the music playing in the background of their lives, and it suggests how they should perceive the world around them. The media is an oppressive and powerful tool structured to make money...not empower people. Knowing this makes it a little hard to expect that the music playing on the radio will be very progressive. Degradation and exploitation somehow became a lucrative art form.
Sometime last year though, I heard a song that took my inner cynic by complete surprise. It symbolized to me, at first, progress to the very definition. It was a song by a girl, Katy Perry, about kissing another girl. Hell, she even liked it! I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not because I find it strange that girls kiss girls. I listen to songs with lesbian undertones all the time. I was surprised because of where the song was being played. It was a radio station dominated by songs demanding that females shake their asses and be possessed. I was stunned and thrilled by the apparent turnaround. I felt I was witnessing a landmark. Progress! The Russian pseudo-lesbian duo t.A.T.u. had been a bust, but here was their retribution. The gay community was finally being represented in mainstream media!
Unfortunately my exhilaration was short-lived. Upon listening more closely to the lyrics my relief turned to disgust. Perry was completely missing the point. She was not doing the gay community a favor in any way. Instead, she was reinforcing the same harmful stereotypes that have been scaring people away from an in-depth observation of homosexuality since the beginning. When people hear gay, what they think (assuming it’s not in a context meant to convey one’s contempt toward a thing’s apparent worthlessness) is sex…capital S. It’s not an exaggeration that when typing the word “lesbian” into a YouTube search, rather than finding progressive lesbian artists like Alix Olson or the Good Asian Drivers and valuable lesbian entertainers like Ellen Degeneres and Bridget McManus, YouTube presents us with pages and pages of pornography; videos with artistic titles such as “HOT LESBIAN SUPER SEX.”
“HOT LESBIAN SUPER SEX” is not a fair representation of my community. If my niece were to have questions one day about what it means that I am a lesbian, and rather than talking to me she relied on the media and mainstream interpretations of homosexuality to attempt a deeper understanding of it, she would be horrified and sadly mislead by the supposed information that she would uncover about the gay community. Most of the information floating around out there is not information at all, but rather biased and ignorant opinions or stereotypes. The focus on sex when the issue of homosexuality comes up is deeply detrimental to the general perceptions people have of the LGBT community. That homosexuals are human beings with the desire to be loved is often a factor that is overlooked in lieu of a perverse fascination with the sexual expression of love--a perverse fascination that Katy Perry is capitalizing off of. Not that there aren’t any superficial gays out there, one look at the character Shane on the L Word is proof enough of that, but the privacy of the members of the gay community is constantly violated. Knowing sexual things about people is typically an uncomfortable thing, so it’s not really surprising when people feel uneasy upon discovering that someone is gay. Many people feel they are automatically targeted as potential sex-interests, a presumptuous fallacy that came about because so many people are led to believe that there’s nothing genuinely emotional about homosexuality. What happens in a same-sex bedroom becomes the perverse focal point of most of the overly sheltered people who are confronted with homosexuality, due in large part to the effects of misleading mainstream portrayals of the gay community.
Songs like “I Kissed a Girl” don’t do anything to disassociate “gay” with inappropriate carnal desire. They reinforce the harmful assumption that to be gay doesn’t necessarily mean to be able to love someone of the same gender, which leaves the LGBT community in a light that portrays them as sexual deviants and guilty of sodomy (which is a term also related to the inexcusable act of turning animals into sexual objects) while dismissing the emotional aspects altogether. Katy Perry takes same-sex experimentation into the same field as anyone with ignorant assumptions about the gay community. She reduces her alleged feelings toward the same sex into nothing but carnal desire. In fact, she does everything she can not to acknowledge the fact that the girl she’s kissing might have legitimate feelings. Perry describes this girl as her “experimental game,” something that she just wants to “try on” and, presumably, be admired in.
There are a lot of dimensions (most of them overlooked by people like Katy Perry) that come with the territory of being a member of the LGBT community. I personally grew up in a small oppressive town where I couldn’t even take a girl to the prom if I wanted to. I was completely isolated from anybody that I could relate to (which isn’t one hundred percent due to being a lesbian but it definitely didn’t help) and, considering I was a particularly angst-filled teenager, it was nearly unbearable. It felt like no matter what, I wouldn’t be able to find happiness in a relationship that wasn’t hindered by barriers of every kind; extreme distance, familial opposition, and the distinct possibility of being a target for cruelty and violence.
My little sob story is nothing in comparison with the thousands of other stories out there told by less fortunate members of the gay community. Even so, the misery I experienced was real and is shared by countless others, which makes me wonder about the girl that Katy Perry targeted in her song. Was she someone like Perry, who uses alcohol as an excuse to do things that aren’t “what good girls do,” without having to take responsibility for them or deal with a few societal reprimands? Or was she someone like me, who had been forced to endure her adolescence locked inside of herself throughout the terrifying stages of self-discovery?
If Katy Perry’s “experimental game” was a legitimate member of the gay community, unless she was dismissive of emotional relationships it’s doubtful that she would brush off Perry’s advances as merely “human nature” and worth no further exploration. The victim of Perry’s saliva, if she is a lesbian, would more likely than not want the chance to develop some sort of connection with her. If this was a girl seeking a valid emotional relationship, it’s impossible to assume that she’d be able to dismiss that kind of attention, which might explain why Perry is so quick to state that she isn’t “in love tonight” and altogether avoid the complications that arise when you integrate sexuality with love, especially when it comes to the same sex. In fact, she belittles the concept of a relationship with the same gender by throwing in the fact that she has a boyfriend, and the time and physicality she invests in her “game” are never going to compare to what she considers a real relationship.
Assumptions like this are everywhere in the media. Shows like Nip/Tuck are constantly reversing the roles of women who proclaim they are lesbians or in strictly lesbian relationships and back track these statements with supposedly irresistible flings with men, making the label of “lesbian” appear to be nothing but temporary sexual insanity. It seems like nobody believes in the emotional validity of same sex relationships, and those that try fail when confronted with the choice between the same or the opposite sex. When it comes to lesbians, men absurdly are always still an option, most lesbians just need a good romp in the sack with the right guy. Hoping that her boyfriend won’t mind that she has objectified and used a woman in a sexual way while staying emotionally dedicated to him implies that there’s nothing about being with a woman that compares to being with a man in a socially acceptable relationship. (Ironically it’s more socially acceptable to cheat on your boyfriend with a girl than to be in a monogamous same-sex relationship.)
Katy Perry goes a step beyond this implication by dedicating an entire verse to objectifying women. It seems like a pathetic appeal and a veiled threat to straight men, maybe even directed at her boyfriend in a “Can you blame me?” attitude. She reinforces the assumption that many men have that it’s okay to see women initially for nothing but their physical traits. It’s an idea that these kinds of men will find sickeningly affirmed coming from a woman herself. At the same time though, she seems to be teasing the men, attempting to make them feel insecure and threatened by women and homosexuals and view them as further competition.
Katy Perry reduces same-sex experimentation into a superficial mockery and harmful emulation of the gay community. Her music, because it is popular, influences the way that people who learn how to live and act from MTV view and treat members of the gay community. There is no hope for a widespread acceptance of homosexuality if we keep allowing harmful generalizations to persist. A small way that we can help is by spreading awareness and boycotting harmful portrayals of the gay community by the media (like, for example, Katy Perry’s song) and working to disassociate homosexuality with sexual deviancy and perversion. The cheapening and exploitation of homosexual lifestyles has got to stop. The only difference between homo and heterosexuals is in an arena that shouldn’t be scrutinized by the public anyway. It is essential that homosexuals become acknowledged as people as opposed to the sexual objects that Katy Perry implies that they are.

blahblahblah

So, things have changed a bit since I last frequented this cyber domain. I'm not sure where to start, it's not as though I've improved or deteriorated in any way whatsoever, but my approach to things has become altered, and I'm trying to be as forgiving and open minded to myself and others as I can. Oh, Ghost Whisperer is on... I'm thinking I may finish this later. Or not. Depends on my mood. Just thought I'd note that life is in constant transition...

Borrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrred

I figured I'd make an entry for June since I haven't yet, however there's really not a lot to talk about which is why I haven't really had much to write. That does make sense I assume. I don't care either way, honestly. I just wanted to kind of fill a void that I actually have control over soooo.... that's what I guess I'm doing!

So.
Yeah.
How you doin'?

My new favorite game...

My friend Kim and I were talking when I couldn't sleep tonight and this is part of the result...
I thought it was cool and I think we should do it more often! :P

[03:06] evil_kimberly: so what are you doing then?
[03:07] mutilated_barbie_corpse: just browsing haha
[03:07] mutilated_barbie_corpse: I was thinking about writing but I am way too out of it
[03:07] evil_kimberly: lol
[03:07] evil_kimberly: when i feel like writing but im "out of it" in some way
[03:07] mutilated_barbie_corpse: this is where I have my writing program so it's not a big deal that there's nothing to watch or listen to
[03:08] evil_kimberly: i just start to write, and rant
[03:08] evil_kimberly: an let whatever surfaces come out
[03:09] mutilated_barbie_corpse: haha I tried that before I tried going to sleep... the result is fucking stupid me venting about my stupid life because I'm too stupid to fix the shit I hate about myself xD
[03:09] evil_kimberly: lol
[03:09] evil_kimberly: so just pick another subject to start you off with
[03:09] evil_kimberly: something simple
[03:09] evil_kimberly: something random
[03:09] evil_kimberly: give me a paragraph right now about....
[03:09] evil_kimberly: hmmm...
[03:09] evil_kimberly: the word FLOWER
[03:12] evil_kimberly: http://www.thetruthaboutgrammar.com/ (just found this)
[03:12] mutilated_barbie_corpse: It reminds me of vagina because everyone seems to think that flowers are symbolic of femininity which it utter fucking CRAP. I have no idea who came up with that but it was probably some perverted old guy like freud who saw a cunt in EVERYTHING. It's not that I have a problem with associating a beautiful thing like a flower with a beautiful thing like Angelina Jolie's Vajayjay, but I really fucking hate it when any artist who tries to capture the purity of nature gets hailed with criticism claiming that said artist (case in point, Georgia O'Keef) is obsessed with the female sexual organ when really, the woman Just. Likes. Flowers.
[03:13] evil_kimberly: lol
[03:13] evil_kimberly: nice
[03:13] mutilated_barbie_corpse: that was nice...
[03:13] mutilated_barbie_corpse: I feel better
[03:13] evil_kimberly: this fun
[03:13] mutilated_barbie_corpse: haha
[03:13] evil_kimberly: lol...
[03:13] evil_kimberly: hmmm...
[03:13] evil_kimberly: next word...
[03:13] evil_kimberly: ...
[03:13] evil_kimberly: ...
[03:14] evil_kimberly: ...
[03:14] evil_kimberly: still thinking...
[03:14] mutilated_barbie_corpse: haha you want me to give you one?
[03:14] evil_kimberly: idk
[03:14] evil_kimberly: i'm tired lol
[03:14] evil_kimberly: we can try
[03:14] mutilated_barbie_corpse: haha okay
[03:14] evil_kimberly: tho i doubt it will sound anywhere near intelligent
[03:14] mutilated_barbie_corpse: My word.... Mayonnaise...
[03:14] mutilated_barbie_corpse: No worries
[03:14] evil_kimberly: oh jesus
[03:15] mutilated_barbie_corpse: bahaha!
[03:17] evil_kimberly: Mayonnaise... when i was kid i hated mayonnaise... just the word kind of sounds disgusting. like something that be expelled from your nose. over time someone introduced me to a cheeseburger with more than just cheese on it - mayo & ketchup. it was thee most delicious thing i had ever eaten (up to that point.) so i started eating all my cheeseburgers with mayo and ketchup. well that was 5 years ago. today... i can barely stand the taste of mayo on anything anymore. which really ruined a lot of good sandwiches...
[03:18] mutilated_barbie_corpse: hahaha
[03:18] mutilated_barbie_corpse: I hate it too
[03:18] mutilated_barbie_corpse:
[03:18] evil_kimberly: lol
[03:18] evil_kimberly: ok
[03:18] evil_kimberly: your word is...
[03:19] evil_kimberly: MCDONALD'S
[03:19] evil_kimberly:
[03:19] mutilated_barbie_corpse: O.O
[03:19] mutilated_barbie_corpse: oh god
[03:19] evil_kimberly: hehehe
[03:19] mutilated_barbie_corpse: ya wanna come back in like 3 hours? I'll have about 120 pages for you
[03:19] evil_kimberly: lol ummm
[03:24] mutilated_barbie_corpse: OKAY. So when I was in CBI I had to get a cunt ass job that pays cunt ass money that was supervised by cunt ass people. I hated every second of it because of the thousand and one ways that contributing to the self indulgent and mindless consumerism of america and the slaughter of a ridiculous amount of animals compromised everything I've ever stood for. Killing animals=bad. Frying up their animal-parts and serving them to obese children at the cost of my soul and a slave-worker's paycheck=bad. Submitting to cunt ass employers who also happened to be homophobic=BAD. So... I decided that I would let myself get fired because if I quit without another job I'd probably get kicked out of CBI and so I did and the world made sense again, until I realized how many other people still refuse to see through their corporate greed even after seeing supersize me....
[03:24] mutilated_barbie_corpse: aaaaaaaahhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnnnd the end


Haha... resorting to the word cunt is not always the best solution but I am tired and I vent how I will! No regrets! xD

Ugh, and I repeat... UGH.

For some reason I only blog when something is bothering me. This makes for a semi-depressing series of reads. Or so it seems. Unless you hate me and relish in the expression of my inner-turmoil. If this is the case then you are a masochist and I must politely insist that you direct yourself away from my blog. Spank you very much.
-.-
Aaaaaannnnywho.
I can't stand myself right now. I'm so like...gah. I don't even know what the word would be. I hurt in my heart and I think I'm the only cause. I hate it. I'm thinking that there are a thousand and twelve things I could do to improve my life and feel better about myself but for the life of me all I can do is obsess over the things that are over my head. I mean, isn't that what's called being human? Sure it is... but...well... I'm not happy with that. I want my humanity to consist of substance and productivity, yet all I can do is blog whenever I kick myself in the teeth! I don't understand and seriously doubt my ability to really go in a positive direction by myself. True independence is a foreign concept. I could do well but only with someone else's help.
Psht.
Isn't that the most pathetic lump of crap that you've ever heard in your life???????
I can't stand this alone place anymore, I just wish it would... I don't know, drop off the face of the earth and teach me how to stop building self-destructive barriers. I isolate myself from humanity then on off-days honestly sit bewildered in some corner wondering how it is that I'm alone. And on others, I actually pity the people with other people in their lives, crediting it to an unemancipated herd mentality that I lack through some blessed twist of fate. What the hell is wrong with me? What's so wrong with a little human contact? I'm not better without it than I am with it, at least with it I find a way to entertain myself and things to hate other than myself.
Bah.
I give up a lot of things that could make me happen. I'm perversely adamant about pursuing my own destruction. WHAT THE HELL???
And when I do have some sort of inkling to head in the right direction, something a thousand times beyond my control intervenes and snatches my ability to attain my goal right out from my clenched fists. Fhfshgefiugvfuredaviibufdvgfugbuiabiajbkhgvbiua huiaehfi uqehfi9quw hfdui hgvbr jdlbsdkahfiqjsahfi ahsgha ;dfga;.
That's what I think of that.

Don't know what's wrong with me!!!!!!!

I know better.
But here I sit as the rain pours over each wound.
Lost in an oblivion full of truths and awakenings, each behind a wall I can't climb.
I see you through the glass, you stare blankly at my tortured eyes, and all I can do is turn away, shattered.
I will your embrace to meet mine halfway but alone we remain, trapped in a frame.
Picture perfect with nowhere to go, nothing to say, no way to find you.
But under the kiln a fragment of you remains, jagged and beautiful, broken and the most perfect thing I have ever known.
Even though I know better.
Forget everything else, I just want tonight to be what it had been before suffering in you became the norm.
Just give me obsession, grant me the lesson learned when one knows not to give up.
Let go with these easy leaves in the breezy spring even though I will still hold you close.
My soul is never my own.
I don't know how many I hold but bedtime is never soon enough, my eyes won't close when I dread missing out on your love, on you, love.
What good is in this when all that I do is miss you?

Uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh....

Ok. Tired. Almost 5AM. Brother's compulsive need for television woke me up from the sleep meant to cure my mental, physical, emotional fatigue and illness...cure light wounds, cure deep wounds... but... Awake. Now I am Awake.
Just how this is possible is not actually possible to comprehend. So tired. In fact, must make me more miserable than I've been in a while. Sick. So sick. And tired. I am sick and tired. I am expired. And yet... I am Awake.
Evil Awake.
Hate you.
Hate this place.
Not mine, not even my face.
This face, too faux, a faux face screaming of awareness...screaming Awake.
I am not Awake.
I am miserable.
On Autopilot.
Not Awake.
Six years old not 21.
See?
Faux face.
Sick and tired and sick and sick and sick. Bit the bullet and it blew off my tongue, blew up my mouth, blew me into a faux Awake.
Glad to have let you in on this state.

Oh my god...figures. xD

Your result for The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test...

Outcast Genius

70 % Nerd, 61% Geek, 57% Dork

For The Record:



A Nerd is someone who is passionate about learning/being smart/academia.

A Geek is someone who is passionate about some particular area or subject, often an obscure or difficult one.

A Dork is someone who has difficulty with common social expectations/interactions.



You scored better than half in all three, earning you the title of: Outcast Genius.



Outcast geniuses usually are bright enough to understand what society wants of them, and they just don't care! They are highly intelligent and passionate about the things they know are *truly* important in the world. Typically, this does not include sports, cars or make-up, but it can on occassion (and if it does then they know more than all of their friends combined in that subject).



Outcast geniuses can be very lonely, due to their being outcast from most normal groups and too smart for the room among many other types of dorks and geeks, but they can also be the types to eventually rule the world, ala Bill Gates, the prototypical Outcast Genius.



Congratulations!



Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in any of the following:



Buffy the Vampire Slayer




Professional Wrestling






Love & Sexuality




America/Politics




Thanks Again! -- THE NERD? GEEK? OR DORK? TEST

Take The Nerd? Geek? or Dork? Test at HelloQuizzy

I knew I'd be the lesbian...

Your result for The 4-Variable Buffy Personality Test...

Tara Maclay

45% amorality, 45% passion, 100% spirituality, 64% selflessness

What a woman! (Or man, as it may be...)



Tara is a moral, centered, spiritual and selfless person... rather, I suspect, like you. People like this make those around them love them.



Congratulations! (and stay away from windows, just in case)



If you enjoyed this test, I would love the feedback! Also, you might want to check out some of my other tests if you're interested in the following:



Nerds, Geeks & Dorks



Professional Wrestling



Love & Sexuality




America/Politics




Thanks Again! -- THE 4-VARIABLE BUFFY PERSONALITY TEST

Take The 4-Variable Buffy Personality Test at HelloQuizzy

Screw you, Scooby Doo!

So tonight I was comforting my little cousin who had gotten hurt pretty badly "Play Fighting" on a trampoline, and as he became more calm, we turned on the t.v. to cartoon network. Now, seriously, there are a thousand and twelve things about children's television that bother the hell out of me, and I've decided to start speaking out about them when they catch my attention.
Tonight, well, we were watching some Scooby Doo movie butchering the retro 70s animation with computerized technology called Scooby Doo and the Samurai Sword. Typically, Scooby Doo is not really my preferred cartoon, however it proves better than go-to fart jokes and repetitive nonsense repeating itself so rather than voicing a vociferous protest, I decided that I was lucky.
I was wrong.
First, I was disturbed by the dehumanization of a man, tied up to a post and acting like a dog. It's not that I lack humor but it seriously made me stop and go "What the fuck!?" I don't know what society could possibly have against large brutish bald men but apparently they've been demoted to attack dog. Maybe that's what bothers me so much, everywhere I look it's like these kids are being promoted to be violent and sexist, and here a cartoon is showing me in living color how the government sees many of the young boys watching that very show: ready and willing to take orders blindly and attack on command.
I guess the subtlety of the imagery is what kind of turned my stomach. It just didn't set well with me and it made me deeply sorry that my already accident-prone and constantly injured 6 year old cousin is being fed this kind of brutal propaganda.
But that's not all.
After being commemorated and highly praised for "displaying the heart of a champion," and defeating "the mighty Sojo" (or something like that...), Daphne Blake (who is rocking the image of a woman capable of taking care of herself) is called on to fight another highly capable (and obviously well-trained) woman who had accompanied the gang earlier in the movie. As they both test their skill against the other in a grueling kung fu match, the movie cuts to Shaggy and Scooby, who are watching from the sidelines.
"Like, meeeoooow! Talk about a 'kung fu catfight,'[I assume this to be some sort of clever allusion to some established pop-culture point of view]huh?!" Shaggy asks Scooby with exaggerated arm movements, to which his dog obligingly replies;
"Meeeoow!"
Are they serious?
After seeing this, I became instantly disgusted. I don't know how they manage to justify dragging a serious kung fu match between two experienced and skilled women (whether cartoons or not!) down to the level of "cat fight." It's so degrading! Do you think that if Fred were battling the behemoth that Daphne defeated that there would be time for snide comments, or would the audience be left enraptured by his cunning skill and fueling his bravado by taking his match completely seriously? Would Shaggy be saying to Scooby, "Hey, Fred's ascot seems to be a little tight tonight, he's picking fights with all the wrong guys! He's such a sucker for a good cat fight!" No! They would be rooting him on, no fail, and promoting his display of masculinity...not belittling his achievements and meowing suggestively.
AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF... it ends with Daphne's hair band being pulled out and her hair inhibiting her performance. They're not even being subtle now. It's blatantly suggesting that if you pit a skilled woman against a skilled woman, they're still going to resort to hair-pulling!
The world is a clusterfuck, and somehow, Scooby Doo made my shitlist.

Human Trafficking

Lately I've been feeling very numb inside, as I'm sure many of you guys know. I've taken it out on friends and family, and I have become regretful of this. But I have stumbled upon a topic that has helped me start feeling again... what exactly these feelings are is hard to describe... it's a mixture of pain, empathy, love, helplessness, and hope.
At any rate, I have learned that worldwide, 27 million people are victims of human trafficking. Now, if you're like the average American, these words are probably just a convenient label for an atrocity you'll never have to face and so dismiss it as unfortunate but not your problem. You hear it in the news, tune out and that's the end of it.
But do me a favor and just imagine how you would feel if these women and children who are exploited, raped, and beaten were women and children in your lives that you cared about. What if it was your mother? Your sister? Your daughter? Aunt, grandmother, best friend? What if it was you?
Approximately half of the people who are on the receiving end of these terrors are under the age of 18. They're still practically babies. They're robbed of a chance at a normal life before they can even decide what it is that they'd like to be when they grow up.


"In South Asia, traffickers will pay $150 to parents for their child's life. Brothel owners can purchase the same child from the trafficker for about $1000. For traffickers, sex slavery is a lucrative business, generating over 7 billion dollars a year. Trafficking is often controlled by organized crime syndicates.

Victims of human trafficking are subject to gross human rights violations including rape, torture, beatings, starvation, dehumanization, and threats of murdering family members. In the case of traffficking for sexual exploitation, girls often have their virginity sold first, followed by multiple gang rape to break down their resistance. Since the bodies of young girls are not ready for sexual intercourse, this often results in abrasions, making the girls susceptible to HIV/AIDS and other diseases."


But there is hope for those who have escaped. A grassroots organization called the Emancipation Network was founded to help the survivors of human trafficking get their lives back together.

"We help survivors of slavery rebuild their lives after rescue from slavery, with sustainable income, education and help reintegrating into society. We work to prevent slavery in high risk communities such as red light and refugee communities, by creating jobs for adults and through volunteer trips and donations to our shelter partners for rescue, school fees, emergency needs and reintegration."

The Emancipation Network also help these survivors by teaching them how to make beautiful crafts in order to provide themselves with an income, which is not only beneficial financially, but also proves therapeutic.
One of these gorgeous pieces of jewelry is available to win at The Contest Corner if you are interested.
I hope that you are touched by this.

"Not Good Enough"

I see you walking on the sidewalk
Down the streets, up the stairs
Checking your reflections in the windows
Every reflection a different fear
A man behind you, a man waiting at home
A man behind the mask
A man holding strings, jerking you up and down
A man behind the glass
where you last check your reflection
where you spot some imperfection
A sad sick moment that screams out
that you're not good enough to be his object
But what I say during this moment
this "not good enough" haze,
is that if that woman mirrored back at me,
that person with my face in her gaze,
isn't good enough to be his object
or the next featured item in a magazine
Then I say the universe has spared me
Through paradox my strength has been saved
I am lucky to be not good enough
for a man who wants to be my identity
I am lucky to be not good enough
for a magazine that puts a price on my body
I am lucky to see myself behind the glass

hahaha dug one up from forever ago... it's entitled "Ode to men who take pictures of themselves with their shirts off."

Hot-shot, shirt off, handing her a dream. Hands clasped-nice ass- but nothing's what it seems. Creep back, attack, woman's worth won't mean a thing. Eyes closed, unknown, she's hoping for a ring. Hot-shot, shirt off, that girl becomes a bore. Hot-shit hits it with the whore next door. Oblivious to the obvious, a goddess in his reach. Looks down, proud now, a bitch between his knees. Hot shot, shirt off, attention's little whore. Hair cut, let's fuck. It could have been much more. Heads up, the slut won that ugly game. Hot-shot, shirt off, was her claim to fame. What, slut? No buts. Shit, forgot her name. Code-red, waterbed, rocking in its frame. Man-whore, nothing more. Castration is a gift. Creep back, attack, chop the fucker's dick.

...

winding sliding finding the reasons
why you're here and I'm still breathing
without this hope I mope, I'm seething
whispering why while you keep leaving
abandon ship, I've tripped, I'm whipped
your eyes see through and toss me this
this tainted cord, this washed out board
and I catch and cling as we cry, we sing
we bring three things, each new blessing
a curse, the worst, I'm the worst, I'm cursed
elevators, respirators
fingering, figuring each new chord
masochistic, unrealistic
my hopes and dreams fall down two floors
catch them there? you find me here
crumpled and clutching the door
can you bring the missing link,
the golden keys I've missed before?
Open up, I've opened out, and there we go
back to the floor.

Eleven Words to Seriously Evaluate Before Usage:

***Hate
***Beautiful
***Just
***Friend
***Love
***Never
***Sorry
***Fear
***Honestly
***Yes
***No

Black day

I feel like HELL ghhahoaihoaho!! I mean.. I'll get over it. I just reaaaally want to get out of this suffocating little shit town. For serious. I might go vandalize Sterlina, the Sterling's dairy cow or something. Put a sign around her neck that says something like "I was raped for your milk" hahaha... then I'd take a picture and run away! Really fast! hah...pitter patter...
So I've been writing a lot of the Garden since I can't go online much now since, sadly, I can't squat at the library 24/7 and there's not much else to do at the homestead. I can't wait to get the hell OUT! I don't know where or what I'll do or how well I'll do it but I want to at least try. I'm sick of being that too-nice person who everyone relies on when they get too lazy to take care of their own problems. Not that I'm responsible enough to even handle that kind of pressure but still... it gets annoying. I'm so bitching right now, haha. I don't even care. I am human, if I don't complain then I'll break something or you know, handle it other less productive ways.
I want a real life. Not a shell of one or the hopes of one.
I want to be the character of the story, not the author.
Blah.

Writing last night soooo... here it is, bwah.

I feel it
feel you inching slowly
one move away
one hint away
from my heart
from my everything
seconds away from my sanity
I hear you in sleep
awaken with truth tied to clouds
bubbles popping
and within this eternity
I glance
beyond this crystal ball
a second away from going crazy
I hear the branches breaking
as you inch towards me
meek as a deer
as a dove
feeding steadily from grains of reciprocation
little do you know, you're inches away...
-----------------------------------------
idiotic proclamation
misery misses the fitness
the clarity of a healthy mind
a simple break
broken behind bars of stained-glass repression
a voice engulfs a century
music calculating the moves of the new generation
sweeping old rugs cut right back under
whether insane or ashamed
whether asleep or awake
these things, they bring seven strings to light
they mistake the eighth as insubstantial
as a prayer to cruel gossamer hope
I feel the tension ease beneath my feet
as I struggle to regain sight within sight
I slink towards defeat in the name of inspiration
I lose so I can hope to win
I forget so I can hope to gain
I linger so I can hope to escape
I am insane
afraid not of losing
but of playing the game
and I feel myself slinking all the same
I find you here- meet me halfway?

Yeeeeehaaaaw

I'm a sick bitch, a piece of shit, too broken to keep.
I'm a failed mind healing at the wrong time, unsure and on my knees.
I'm an old joke, a burnt smoke, a song that doesn't rhyme.
I'm a broken clock, a clay-filled lock, an all-out waste of time.
I'm grated cheese, I'm mucus; sleaze, I'm a flaw in the design.
I'm a wasted day, I'm hell to pay when words ask me if I'm fine.
I'm a ferris wheel rolling downhill into a crowd of cotton blaze.
I'm a rusted nail in the junkmail that cuts you like a blade.
I'm the elastic mind, the strangest find, the cruelest kid in line.
I'm bitterness, I'm forgetfulness, I'm homeward bound, but blind.
I'm over-whelmed and under-held, I'm the headache you thought you lost.
I'm a broken cloud, I'm shutting down, I'm clarity at a cost.
I'm a shrinking frown, a weed that's brown, I'm a cheapened cross to dress.
I'm a fucking bloke in women's clothes, an androgynous soul- a mess.
I'm a purple goon in a contorted room, I'm shining crusted shoes.
I'm a tone-deaf ear, a break once here, I'm the rainbow to your bruise.
I'm bitterness, I'm listlessness, I'm hopes that failed once found.
I'm an ugly crone sent to die alone, and rise once in the ground.
I'm bitterness, I'm laziness, I'm invisible as sound.
I'm happiness when reading this sparks your pretty frown.
I'm sleepiness when the sun begins and wakes the broken truth.
I'm the emptiness that avoids the rest, yet somehow fills the room.
I'm butterflies, I'm the sunshine, I'm a breakfast finally served.
I'm bitterness, I need a rest that I did nothing to deserve.
I'm licorice planted in the dirt, but prospering like a seed.
I'm a child who, in my ignorance, planted a licorice tree.
I'm cause for concern, I'm justice unlearned, I'm a stew in the pot getting cold.
I'm every tock on the mickey-mouse clock, I'm the yellowed crunched page getting old.
I'm stuck in the haze of past happy days through healthier plays of the mind.
I'm finishing quilts that I started on stilts but managed to shrink and revive.
I'm bitterness, I'm loneliness, I'm a hypocrite at her best.
I'm missing things that should redeem all this restlessness.

ok, let's give it another push.

beauty becomes a one note joke, the more you see the less you get
am i sure that things are meant to become one way
am i doomed to accept things as the have never been
i deafen myself with inspiration
leaving my own well to run dry
an ink still bleeding through the paper
fibers left untouched now tainted with the smell of failure
stems
fallen, scattered
leaving paths of stripped fragrance
listen
pathetic sad little fuck that you are
listen and believe that there is hope in the swollen desperation

...

Hm... so... after like... 5 years of my suggestions being completely ignored things are finally looking toward the greater good. I'm glad. However it has been a strenuous day... full of tension and restlessness, although for the most part there is a cure in progress...
So the other week my brother was being a huge creepy perv, and he doesn't remember because he was drinking a LOT... he was saying and doing all this shit to our room mate that made my inner feminist recoil with disgust... But now he's being all vociferous about his innocence when I was sober and saw the whole thing... I mean, I personally would have had her react more firmly at the time than she did but now she's bringing it all up and playing the victim card although she wasn't acting anywhere near as pissed as I was at the time and could have easily been avoided if she would have acted more annoyed than amused, so now it's a huge deal that I'm trying to stay out of... the whole thing is fucking poison, she should have stopped it at the start instead of letting it get to the point where he said something about her weight that sincerely offended her, but of course that would only have been the responsible, mature thing to do. Not that I'm condoning my brother in any way, he was being a fucking pig and I was proud to call myself a lesbian that night, but still, leave it to them to start the first confrontation... I really like her husband, he's a really great guy. But sometimes I feel like... blah, I don't know, I should probably stop while I'm ahead, really...
At any rate... I'm bored... getting kind of tired... and thirsty. Hm... maybe hungry too... there's a possibility of hungry... not much haha... I feel like I'm getting sick or something... I don't know, I haven't been like, SICK-sick in a long time, what with the puking and sick-feeling sickness... I'm probably due for it unfortunately... Oh well, I guess we'll find out...
Band of the day: Alice in Chains

Betty White is hot!

Haha... so I put this thing on where I can translate everything I write to some kind of Hindi language or something because I thought I may as well be equal-opportunity (as though I had international readers- hah!) and it took me like... pretty much literally forever before I figured out how to keep everything from going to that language after I typed it. However, I have finally figured that out and so am pretty psyched about finally being able to write in here again. In celebration of my light heartedness, I have chosen to share a few pictures I stole from fail blog and my friend T.J. who stole them from god knows where. All the internet really is is plagorism, have you noticed? Who's complaining though? It's all free advertisement! Anyway, I don't have much to say other than I'm bored and stuff... I'm pretty tired too since I've been falling asleep before midnight these past few days and somehow managing to get up at the ass-crack of dawn..hm... I had pizza for dinner... mistake... I can already feel my throat reacting... frickin lactose-intolerant body. Oh well, that'll teach me not to be vegan... It's pretty sad when you can't afford to be healthy... Hopefully Obama will change things for the best the way I'm hoping!!!
These pictures crack me up! Note the mother in HUGE denial over here... part of me wonders if there's really someone that pathetically blind or if it's some gay kids like, poking fin at their parents... that's what I would do... then again I prank call people and pretend to be god, haha..........well, not since I was like 17 but still.............



P.S. Betty White is hot!

That High-Pitched Ring Only You Can Hear

Some day I'll understand it all... right? Isn't that the point of fucking life? You sit around and either mope over or ignore your mistakes. You poison your brain with thoughts, circling obsessive thoughts with names like "love" or "HER" or "hate" or "death"or "pain" all the while forcing a smile to your lips whenever someone asks you how you're doing, if you're well, before they turn a half-hearted ear your way for four seconds then walk away, forget you, pushing you out of the path of their obsessive circling thoughts with names like "me" and "greed" and "sex".
Well what's next then, people? Tell me, darling, what voice is it nagging at you to do this, feel that, conform, believe, entertain, support and support and heal the deflated ego at the cost of your pride? What is that little annoying buzz, that high-pitched sound only you can hear? Why is it the grasshopper can't chirp alone without making you resent its life for dragging you out of the trance you became comfortable labeling existence? Why is it that we allow ourselves to be destroyed, to be claimed and owned by things? By people, government, money, religion, trends, society, drugs, clothing, girlfriends, wives, husbands, lovers, disease, laziness, pain, helplessness. All learned helplessness! Why is it that all we consider to be worth anything at all is what crumbles beneath our feet leaving us to grasp at what remains? Those things remaining to own us, break us, destroy us-people, government, money, religion, trends, society, drugs, disease? Does one soul on earth believe in the greater good? That all is love, without love there would be no creation? Without passion, there would be no life, no art, no music, no writing, no Brand New giving me goosebumps by performing "Sowing Season" as I type, completely wrapped up in myself... Without passion there would be no creation. And so it is logical to conclude that if in fact, one were to believe in God, label it creation, and give it a personality, that personality would be characterized by passion...by love. One would assume.
Passion is my new name for god.
I think that instead of living to be owned, to be broken, to be diseased and destroyed and disabled in your own life, there should be an alternative. There should be a venue for hope. There should be more passion, more creation, more love.
So how would one go about spreading such a RADICAL notion? A notion that Septimus Warren Smith himself would raise his eyebrows at, demand an envelope to record it, drive himself to the window to defend and smile knowingly at the one person alive that understands that he could not be owned, could not be labeled or captured or poisoned by people or religion or government or money or drugs or disease or his lover.
How would one go about saying....
Love.
Everything is love.
All things created were created through passion.
All things created were created through love.
All is love.
All is death.
All is reality and delusion.
All that you can ever do is spread it on in the biggest way you can.
Never conform, never BELONG, never believe or become a part of a system not working in the name of love or struggle to fill a role you weren't made for.
How do you go about saying....
DO NOT FEAR.
No inhibitions.
All is love.
Have no fear.
Only through misunderstanding is there hatred.
Only through mistakes is there pain.
Only through mistakes do we learn.
Only through mistakes will we get where we're going, where we're meant to be.
Fear only gets us bought.
Bought by people, government, money, religion, trends, society, drugs, clothing, girlfriends, wives, husbands, lovers, disease, laziness, pain, helplessness.
Fear only gets us controlled.
How do you go about saying...
I love you?
How do you go about meaning it?
By abandoning all fear.
By living love, creation, passion.
All is love.
All is death.
All is reality.
All is illusion.
Before you can truly love any single individual person, you must first embrace all of creation. Embrace passion. Embrace art and music and beauty. Embrace yourself.

Paparazzi

This is the general summary of I how felt on New Year's Eve... I'm not feeling much different but I guess that's probably because I can't fucking eat because of my tooth. It's cause and consequence... Food=me in damn pain...
I'd almost take baby-food sweet potatoes.
Blech.
I wish someone would be kind and feed me!
If you're wondering what that is on my hand, it's a scar. A few years ago I was attacked by a dog on my hand, but that doesn't change my opinion of dogs in general! I just get kinda freaked out if they growl at me. And the only reason I got bitten was because some stupid abusive bitch punched the guy in the head. I made a sudden movement about the same time he decided he was done taking her shit and I don't blame him at all for reacting how he did.
Anyway, I just wanted to put up a few pictures and kind of change the pace I've been going at on these. That last one with me and Sasha I look totally high, but I don't think one vicodin would have that effect on me! I seriously fucking hate pills but the night before that I had to go to the emergency room (I know, poor me, right? :P) and get something for that... Growing up in poverty has disadvantages for your whole life. It doesn't help too much that my parents completely stopped taking us to the dentist when my brother died when I was 11, so I guess I know what to do and what not to do if or when I have children of my own!
God I'm hungry! My mouth doesn't even hurt but I'm thinking about taking a pill just so I get sick to my stomach and don't feel like eating. Maybe just a vitamin or something because it's not really my style to abuse pain-killers, and I know I'll need them eventually, haha.............
Band of the day: The Jennifer Nettles Band
God bless Afterellen!

Happy New Year I guess.

How do you not post on January first? It just wouldn't make sense.
I feel like shit.
Hungover.
Headache.
Toothache.
PMS.
Good times.
An optimistic start to a year bound to bring more of the same.
I'm going to go watch Dexter.
Fuck this game.