(Post inspired in part by videos by danisnotonfire, found here.)
I love college. I love my friends. I love my classes, professors, jobs, coworkers, the whole nine yards.
But.
I've been very stressed lately. I have a lot of work to do, and I'm busy approximately 100% of the time. This means that when I get a few minutes off, I need to use them to do homework. But I've never been very good with things when they need to be done. I don't do well with need and now. So in a small act of rebellion against "the man," who is in reality just me, I don't really do the things that need to be done now. Instead, I watch youtube videos, netflix, hang out with friends, check my email, clean, make blog posts... just about anything to avoid doing what needs to be done now.
Most people would classify this as procrastination. To a point, it is. But it goes a lot deeper than that. I fight what needs to be done simply because it needs to be done, because I guess I don't truly understand why it needs to be done.
I mean, I understand that I need to do the homework and the reading to understand the material and get a good grade on the exam and all. And I have to get good grades on exams in order to pass the class, and I need the class to get my degree. I need the degree to get a job. I need the job to make money to support myself. I also need the job for mental stimulation, and to make a difference in the world.
But why do I need to support myself, mentally stimulate myself, and make a difference? I want to work to protect the environment and everything, but why do I want to do that? Why does it matter? The sun in going to supernova at some point, and that's it, bye-bye Earth and everything on it. So what's the point?
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
I've known for a long time that I have a mental illness. But right now I'm just really scared because I think I might be bipolar. I don't know who to talk to about that. I mean, the thought has crossed my mind before that I might be, but now I really really think I am.
I think the elevated mood and sense of being that I went through last week was a manic episode. A short one followed by a precipitous fall. That's not the first time it's happened, either. It's scary now because I literally felt like I could do anything, I've just become exceptionally good at hiding my emotions and feelings and stuff. But now I feel like I can't do anything, and it took one day. One day and I fell down and hit the ground really hard and I feel like all my bones have shattered and how have I even been going to classes anyways?
I don't know what to do. I don't know who to talk to. I don't know anything. I need Chris, but I'm too proud and I basically told him to fuck off. I mentioned already to him that I think I'm bipolar and he dismissed it entirely. He's probably right, but if that's not it, what IS it?
I'm just scared. I don't like to admit it to real people but I'm really scared right now. I don't know what to do and I'm alone and I'm scared. I can't talk to anyone. I don't trust anyone. I'm afraid because I'm all alone. I'm all alone. I'm scared. There's no other word. It's just scared. It's not terrified. It's not fearful. It's not anything but scared. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to sleep alone. I don't know how to do this. I can't be vulnerable to anyone. I don't want to be alone I don't want to be scared anymore. Where's Callie? Why hasn't she come back yet? At least then I won't be alone in the room assuming she doesn't go sleep in her bed in Gage's room. But I'm scared and I don't know what to do.
I have more depressed episodes than I do manic episodes. The depression lasts for weeks or months or years, but the mania, the "fun part," hardly lasts a week and I've only had three or four of those episodes. I don't want to self medicate but I think I did before and it's a good thing I'm not 21 or I'd probably be doing it right now.
I'm scared and I'm alone and I'm scared.
Where's my person? I'm scared.
I think the elevated mood and sense of being that I went through last week was a manic episode. A short one followed by a precipitous fall. That's not the first time it's happened, either. It's scary now because I literally felt like I could do anything, I've just become exceptionally good at hiding my emotions and feelings and stuff. But now I feel like I can't do anything, and it took one day. One day and I fell down and hit the ground really hard and I feel like all my bones have shattered and how have I even been going to classes anyways?
I don't know what to do. I don't know who to talk to. I don't know anything. I need Chris, but I'm too proud and I basically told him to fuck off. I mentioned already to him that I think I'm bipolar and he dismissed it entirely. He's probably right, but if that's not it, what IS it?
I'm just scared. I don't like to admit it to real people but I'm really scared right now. I don't know what to do and I'm alone and I'm scared. I can't talk to anyone. I don't trust anyone. I'm afraid because I'm all alone. I'm all alone. I'm scared. There's no other word. It's just scared. It's not terrified. It's not fearful. It's not anything but scared. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to sleep alone. I don't know how to do this. I can't be vulnerable to anyone. I don't want to be alone I don't want to be scared anymore. Where's Callie? Why hasn't she come back yet? At least then I won't be alone in the room assuming she doesn't go sleep in her bed in Gage's room. But I'm scared and I don't know what to do.
I have more depressed episodes than I do manic episodes. The depression lasts for weeks or months or years, but the mania, the "fun part," hardly lasts a week and I've only had three or four of those episodes. I don't want to self medicate but I think I did before and it's a good thing I'm not 21 or I'd probably be doing it right now.
I'm scared and I'm alone and I'm scared.
Where's my person? I'm scared.
Monday, September 16, 2013
Why do I so rarely post happy thoughts...
I just suddenly feel like a shit person today. I was awesome. I literally felt like the most fantastic person-- like I could set fires with my mind and I could probably fly if I tried hard enough-- all last week. It was the best I've ever felt, and for no real reason.
But yesterday I started coming back down, and just here and now, just fifteen minutes ago, I crashed. I can't fly. I am not a good person. I'm a selfish, self-involved, shitty person who doesn't know how to be good to other humans. Which would explain why all my friends have other friends that they like more. Literally everyone I know has someone that they like better than me. I don't know who I like best in my groups of friends. I know that I suck at balancing the groups, which might explain why I'm last on everyone's lists. I don't even want to talk to people because I know I'm their least favorite friend, if they even consider me a friend.
The worst feeling is when I introduce two people thinking that "hey, they'll get along really well! maybe the three of us can hang out!" and then... they do get along really well! But... the three of us never hang out because suddenly, the two of them are best friends. And that's awesome. Have best friends! It's cool that I knew each of you well enough to know you'd like each other! But don't forget me. Please invite me places. But don't do it out of obligation. I don't want to be anybody's obligation. It's awkward. If I'm your obligation, I sit there quietly while you guys talk about ghosts and other shit that I don't know or care about. What about the stuff we had in common before? Can't we talk about that so that I don't sit here silently for the rest of my life and hate myself for not having anything to say?
At first I think, hey, it'll be okay. It's just an evening out period where they're getting to know each other. After a while they'll know each other and maybe they'll want to hang out with me again at some point.
But it's been a month. Over a month. I don't get invited to things unless I accidentally overhear plans. Sometimes they'll talk to me about their plans but not invite me, even. That's always fun. And me inviting people places? Like I go places. Yeah. It's great. Inviting myself along? That happens more than I like to admit. But oftentimes I'm too poor to do that. Which is another fun thing.
I fucking hate this. I don't want to be a needy, awful person. But I am. And I know I am. Nobody else knows I am though. I hide it really well. I put off this wonderful exterior of hardassery that makes everyone think I'm fine on my own. It's mostly true, but it's mostly so that people don't take pity on me. I don't want your pity. I don't want to be your obligation. I don't want YOU. Not if that's who you're going to be towards me. Be regular. Be normal you.
Don't walk around on eggshells because you know that I have clinical depression and probably bipolar disorder. THAT is why I have an exterior shell of hardass. THAT is why I don't tell anyone anything, ever. THAT is why I'm so broken sometimes. I can't tell anyone because then they'll know. Because then they'll treat me differently.
I wasted looking cute today because I thought I was going out to get a piercing. But now it definitely looks like either we aren't going or they forgot me. Depression says either they forgot or they purposely decided not to tell me when they were leaving. Rationality says maybe someone's phone fucked up, or we aren't going because of Person's personal problems that started up yesterday. Hardass says I don't care, they should have told me what was going on (with the plans and their life). Rationality sides with Depression and says that they probably didn't let you know because in whatever capacity, you've been replaced.
Depression says eat lots of sugar, stay up late, get up early, and whatever you do, don't do your homework. Rationality disagrees. Depression also suggests alcohol, and Hardass agrees, but Rationality knows I have class tomorrow and no way to get alcohol anyway.
Looks like the other group of friends forgot me for dinner too. Depression wants to sleep. For a very long time.
But yesterday I started coming back down, and just here and now, just fifteen minutes ago, I crashed. I can't fly. I am not a good person. I'm a selfish, self-involved, shitty person who doesn't know how to be good to other humans. Which would explain why all my friends have other friends that they like more. Literally everyone I know has someone that they like better than me. I don't know who I like best in my groups of friends. I know that I suck at balancing the groups, which might explain why I'm last on everyone's lists. I don't even want to talk to people because I know I'm their least favorite friend, if they even consider me a friend.
The worst feeling is when I introduce two people thinking that "hey, they'll get along really well! maybe the three of us can hang out!" and then... they do get along really well! But... the three of us never hang out because suddenly, the two of them are best friends. And that's awesome. Have best friends! It's cool that I knew each of you well enough to know you'd like each other! But don't forget me. Please invite me places. But don't do it out of obligation. I don't want to be anybody's obligation. It's awkward. If I'm your obligation, I sit there quietly while you guys talk about ghosts and other shit that I don't know or care about. What about the stuff we had in common before? Can't we talk about that so that I don't sit here silently for the rest of my life and hate myself for not having anything to say?
At first I think, hey, it'll be okay. It's just an evening out period where they're getting to know each other. After a while they'll know each other and maybe they'll want to hang out with me again at some point.
But it's been a month. Over a month. I don't get invited to things unless I accidentally overhear plans. Sometimes they'll talk to me about their plans but not invite me, even. That's always fun. And me inviting people places? Like I go places. Yeah. It's great. Inviting myself along? That happens more than I like to admit. But oftentimes I'm too poor to do that. Which is another fun thing.
I fucking hate this. I don't want to be a needy, awful person. But I am. And I know I am. Nobody else knows I am though. I hide it really well. I put off this wonderful exterior of hardassery that makes everyone think I'm fine on my own. It's mostly true, but it's mostly so that people don't take pity on me. I don't want your pity. I don't want to be your obligation. I don't want YOU. Not if that's who you're going to be towards me. Be regular. Be normal you.
Don't walk around on eggshells because you know that I have clinical depression and probably bipolar disorder. THAT is why I have an exterior shell of hardass. THAT is why I don't tell anyone anything, ever. THAT is why I'm so broken sometimes. I can't tell anyone because then they'll know. Because then they'll treat me differently.
I wasted looking cute today because I thought I was going out to get a piercing. But now it definitely looks like either we aren't going or they forgot me. Depression says either they forgot or they purposely decided not to tell me when they were leaving. Rationality says maybe someone's phone fucked up, or we aren't going because of Person's personal problems that started up yesterday. Hardass says I don't care, they should have told me what was going on (with the plans and their life). Rationality sides with Depression and says that they probably didn't let you know because in whatever capacity, you've been replaced.
Depression says eat lots of sugar, stay up late, get up early, and whatever you do, don't do your homework. Rationality disagrees. Depression also suggests alcohol, and Hardass agrees, but Rationality knows I have class tomorrow and no way to get alcohol anyway.
Looks like the other group of friends forgot me for dinner too. Depression wants to sleep. For a very long time.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
This isn't right
I fucking hate being home. I hate being here with people who don't understand me, judge me for the choices I make, and try to get me to conform to their standards of life.
I am young. I will only be young once. So if I want to roadtrip to Canada with some friends, I should do it. Ten years from now, hell, five years from now, I won't be able to. So maybe I realistically can't afford to go to Canada for three days. Boo freakin' hoo. Now is the time to do it.
Other things I can't afford that I'm hoping to do: Semester at Sea and study abroad. Two separate programs that are totally unrelated but that I'll end up doing pretty much back to back. You know what though? For those two programs, there's financial aid. And not a little financial aid, a lot of financial aid. I could do my study abroad almost for free by the time all the aid comes through, depending on how much I get. The Semester at Sea would definitely still not be free, but that one comes with 12 college credits attached. The study abroad through the School for Field Studies would come with about 4 credits, so those two together would be a second minor for me.
A very useful second minor, I might add. It would end up being a Marine Science minor, which is right in line with what I want to do. Because I had an epiphany the other day. Like a literal "aha!" moment, so to speak. I was at my friend's house, and it was really late (read: early in the AM) when our last movie (Big Fish, super good by the way) ended so I went home.
And that is when all the magic started. Because when I got home, I decided that going to bed would just be stupid. I'd had an energy drink around 10, so I wasn't even tired. So I got in the hot tub. And I sat in the hot tub, and eventually I floated on my back a while, and then it just hit me. I'm always calmest, happiest, and overall best when I'm in or around the water. So I should just work in, on, or around the water.
Perfect. And the Semester at Sea and study abroad together, one after the other, would get me a lot of the necessary skills to help me along that path. I would get skills in sailing, seafaring, scuba diving, water-based research, and so forth. I would learn about marine protected areas, several different ecosystems, and more. Those two programs would help me so much, in ways that regular college just couldn't do. And I think employers would like to see that I did some of my schooling in the field. It just makes sense that when some of your schooling occurred in the field, you're more prepared to work in the field.
I also think that I won't use the School for Field Studies as my second internship. I'm going to try to use volunteering at Tiger World as my second internship, just to get some diversity into my resume. I would, ideally, like to do that for the next two years of school. Even if the experience is completely irrelevant to anything else I do later on, it would still be really interesting, and plus, who isn't going to look twice at the resume that has "working with tigers" written on it?!
In the end, it's just money that prevents me from doing any or all of this. It's mainly the Semester at Sea that would be on the fence, cost-wise. The School for Field Studies has so much financial aid that it's likely the only thing I'd have to pay for is the flight, maybe not even that after I get my stipend from college for it. And working at Tiger World would be volunteering, which is that many hours that I can't work for a paying job, plus gas to get there and back.
But this is ridiculous, right? I'm planning all of this, which will happen in the future, to further move my life towards achieving my goals, in the future. I'm not doing any of this for right now, I'm doing it because it'll help me out later on. I mean, all of these things will be great and I think I'll totally enjoy it, but I'm not living for the now. I'm living for the later. I always do that.
Literally for as long as I can remember, I don't do anything for the right now. In high school, I always worked hard and got good grades so that I would get into a good college, in the future. I participated in some extracurriculars to strengthen my resume and applications, in the future. I always wanted to get out, and I did everything I could to further that goal happening, in the future. All the big things that I ever did were done to help my future self out.
I shouldn't worry about the future as much as I do. But how can I not when I'm already almost 10k in debt from one year of school? A school that I'm not even 100% sure I even want to go back to. I just want to up and run again. I don't want to go back anywhere that anybody knows me. I need to start over again, but I just did that a year ago. If I wait two years, I can start over again with the Peace Corps, and then two years later once I'm done with that, I can start over again with grad school. But after that? After that how long do I have to stay in one place? If all goes according to plan (which it almost never does), it could be five to ten years, and who knows if I'll even be able to leave after that long.
Because of money. I already have $9,500 in loans, between my federal and my private. And I'm going to have to take out more for next year, and there's nothing that can be done about any of that. I'm 19. I am way too fucking young to be almost ten thousand dollars in debt. But there's nothing that can be done about it. I don't know. I don't know if I can handle two more years of school. I don't know if I can handle that much more debt. I don't know if I can handle that many more ties to a place. I don't know if I can handle tying myself into an education.
I want to travel. I want to run. I want to leave. I want to be free, and go wherever I want, whenever I want, without telling a soul. But I can't. I'm not free, none of us are. We're all held here, tied in by money and by cultural norms, tied in so tight that we can't ever really leave. It's gotta stop, because I've gotta go. I have to. I can't stay in one place, trapped there by expectations. Our parents', our friends', our own.
I just can't stay. I wasn't born for this life.
I am young. I will only be young once. So if I want to roadtrip to Canada with some friends, I should do it. Ten years from now, hell, five years from now, I won't be able to. So maybe I realistically can't afford to go to Canada for three days. Boo freakin' hoo. Now is the time to do it.
Other things I can't afford that I'm hoping to do: Semester at Sea and study abroad. Two separate programs that are totally unrelated but that I'll end up doing pretty much back to back. You know what though? For those two programs, there's financial aid. And not a little financial aid, a lot of financial aid. I could do my study abroad almost for free by the time all the aid comes through, depending on how much I get. The Semester at Sea would definitely still not be free, but that one comes with 12 college credits attached. The study abroad through the School for Field Studies would come with about 4 credits, so those two together would be a second minor for me.
A very useful second minor, I might add. It would end up being a Marine Science minor, which is right in line with what I want to do. Because I had an epiphany the other day. Like a literal "aha!" moment, so to speak. I was at my friend's house, and it was really late (read: early in the AM) when our last movie (Big Fish, super good by the way) ended so I went home.
And that is when all the magic started. Because when I got home, I decided that going to bed would just be stupid. I'd had an energy drink around 10, so I wasn't even tired. So I got in the hot tub. And I sat in the hot tub, and eventually I floated on my back a while, and then it just hit me. I'm always calmest, happiest, and overall best when I'm in or around the water. So I should just work in, on, or around the water.
Perfect. And the Semester at Sea and study abroad together, one after the other, would get me a lot of the necessary skills to help me along that path. I would get skills in sailing, seafaring, scuba diving, water-based research, and so forth. I would learn about marine protected areas, several different ecosystems, and more. Those two programs would help me so much, in ways that regular college just couldn't do. And I think employers would like to see that I did some of my schooling in the field. It just makes sense that when some of your schooling occurred in the field, you're more prepared to work in the field.
I also think that I won't use the School for Field Studies as my second internship. I'm going to try to use volunteering at Tiger World as my second internship, just to get some diversity into my resume. I would, ideally, like to do that for the next two years of school. Even if the experience is completely irrelevant to anything else I do later on, it would still be really interesting, and plus, who isn't going to look twice at the resume that has "working with tigers" written on it?!
In the end, it's just money that prevents me from doing any or all of this. It's mainly the Semester at Sea that would be on the fence, cost-wise. The School for Field Studies has so much financial aid that it's likely the only thing I'd have to pay for is the flight, maybe not even that after I get my stipend from college for it. And working at Tiger World would be volunteering, which is that many hours that I can't work for a paying job, plus gas to get there and back.
But this is ridiculous, right? I'm planning all of this, which will happen in the future, to further move my life towards achieving my goals, in the future. I'm not doing any of this for right now, I'm doing it because it'll help me out later on. I mean, all of these things will be great and I think I'll totally enjoy it, but I'm not living for the now. I'm living for the later. I always do that.
Literally for as long as I can remember, I don't do anything for the right now. In high school, I always worked hard and got good grades so that I would get into a good college, in the future. I participated in some extracurriculars to strengthen my resume and applications, in the future. I always wanted to get out, and I did everything I could to further that goal happening, in the future. All the big things that I ever did were done to help my future self out.
I shouldn't worry about the future as much as I do. But how can I not when I'm already almost 10k in debt from one year of school? A school that I'm not even 100% sure I even want to go back to. I just want to up and run again. I don't want to go back anywhere that anybody knows me. I need to start over again, but I just did that a year ago. If I wait two years, I can start over again with the Peace Corps, and then two years later once I'm done with that, I can start over again with grad school. But after that? After that how long do I have to stay in one place? If all goes according to plan (which it almost never does), it could be five to ten years, and who knows if I'll even be able to leave after that long.
Because of money. I already have $9,500 in loans, between my federal and my private. And I'm going to have to take out more for next year, and there's nothing that can be done about any of that. I'm 19. I am way too fucking young to be almost ten thousand dollars in debt. But there's nothing that can be done about it. I don't know. I don't know if I can handle two more years of school. I don't know if I can handle that much more debt. I don't know if I can handle that many more ties to a place. I don't know if I can handle tying myself into an education.
I want to travel. I want to run. I want to leave. I want to be free, and go wherever I want, whenever I want, without telling a soul. But I can't. I'm not free, none of us are. We're all held here, tied in by money and by cultural norms, tied in so tight that we can't ever really leave. It's gotta stop, because I've gotta go. I have to. I can't stay in one place, trapped there by expectations. Our parents', our friends', our own.
I just can't stay. I wasn't born for this life.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
So this is fun...
I got my nose pierced. I also have a tattoo, and my belly button is pierced. And so what? I'm a good kid. I get good grades. I don't do illegal things, at least not highly illegal things. But you know what? My parents saw my nose, and flipped shit. Luckily that's all they know about, for now at least. I'm not excited for the ensuing backlash when everything else comes to light, so to speak.
I'm not a bad kid. I listen to some pretty heavy shit, and my tattoo may or may not be a tribute to my favorite band in addition to having deep personal meaning. Okay, fine. The deep personal meaning is in the second part, which I haven't gotten yet. But it's all going to be one tattoo; a tribute to a time in my not-so-distant past as well as to my favorite band and the tragedy its members and fans have endured.
My point was... Oh, I'm not a bad kid. I love music. I love heavy, meaningful music. Yeah, maybe it doesn't conform to society's idea of what a teenage girl should be listening to, but who the hell cares. I like this stuff, and I'm not the only one in my demographic who does. The problem is that people, namely my parents, judge me for it.
I get it, you don't particularly want your kid to turn into a punk rock, activist, hardcore person who wears ten pounds of eyeliner and has full sleeves and doesn't talk to people. But guess what? That's what you got. You got dealt a shitty hand; well, so did I. I've been through some stuff, and this music, this life, this is what I want. This is what makes me feel good. This is what helps me. Knowing that other people have been through what I went through (that's right, past tense at last, squee) makes me feel better. It didn't at first, but now, recognizing that this is a nationwide epidemic has really begun to help me.
And if you don't recognize why I am the way I am, and at least learn to tolerate the things that help me out, then feel free to GTFO of my life, because you have no business being in it in the first place.
And you know what's really great? This isn't the first time my parents have dealt with this sort of thing. At least, not my mom. My older sister is basically an older version of me, less extreme in some parts and more extreme in others. Also, she lacks my decision making ability. But we've been through the same dark places and we both came out the other side.
Pertaining to my earlier testimony as to what my parents got with me, I don't actually have full sleeves. I have no plans to get full sleeves, or half or quarter for that matter. Why? Because I fully intend to have a full-time professional, admittedly non-office bound, career later on in life. And I highly doubt a nose stud is going to effect that goal in any way, shape, or form. But if it does? I can always just take it out. But the old-fashioned and highly outdated idea that a nose ring somehow implies a lack of intelligence, propensity for hooligan-like behaviour, or general inferiority? If that idea is ingrained into your psyche, you can't just take it out. It would take something special for that to happen.
I also don't wear ten pounds of eyeliner. I barely even wear mascara anymore because I'm just too goddamn lazy. But you better bet I'll be wearing every time we go out someplace where my parents will worry about being judged--such as church tomorrow, for instance. I'm also wearing black jeans with gold paint and my Seether concert tee. Why? Because I'm a good kid, and because I am my own person, I will not conform to anyone's standards but my own.
Goin' hard, and goin' to church. To worship a god I don't think I've ever really believed in.
I'm not a bad kid. I listen to some pretty heavy shit, and my tattoo may or may not be a tribute to my favorite band in addition to having deep personal meaning. Okay, fine. The deep personal meaning is in the second part, which I haven't gotten yet. But it's all going to be one tattoo; a tribute to a time in my not-so-distant past as well as to my favorite band and the tragedy its members and fans have endured.
My point was... Oh, I'm not a bad kid. I love music. I love heavy, meaningful music. Yeah, maybe it doesn't conform to society's idea of what a teenage girl should be listening to, but who the hell cares. I like this stuff, and I'm not the only one in my demographic who does. The problem is that people, namely my parents, judge me for it.
I get it, you don't particularly want your kid to turn into a punk rock, activist, hardcore person who wears ten pounds of eyeliner and has full sleeves and doesn't talk to people. But guess what? That's what you got. You got dealt a shitty hand; well, so did I. I've been through some stuff, and this music, this life, this is what I want. This is what makes me feel good. This is what helps me. Knowing that other people have been through what I went through (that's right, past tense at last, squee) makes me feel better. It didn't at first, but now, recognizing that this is a nationwide epidemic has really begun to help me.
And if you don't recognize why I am the way I am, and at least learn to tolerate the things that help me out, then feel free to GTFO of my life, because you have no business being in it in the first place.
And you know what's really great? This isn't the first time my parents have dealt with this sort of thing. At least, not my mom. My older sister is basically an older version of me, less extreme in some parts and more extreme in others. Also, she lacks my decision making ability. But we've been through the same dark places and we both came out the other side.
Pertaining to my earlier testimony as to what my parents got with me, I don't actually have full sleeves. I have no plans to get full sleeves, or half or quarter for that matter. Why? Because I fully intend to have a full-time professional, admittedly non-office bound, career later on in life. And I highly doubt a nose stud is going to effect that goal in any way, shape, or form. But if it does? I can always just take it out. But the old-fashioned and highly outdated idea that a nose ring somehow implies a lack of intelligence, propensity for hooligan-like behaviour, or general inferiority? If that idea is ingrained into your psyche, you can't just take it out. It would take something special for that to happen.
I also don't wear ten pounds of eyeliner. I barely even wear mascara anymore because I'm just too goddamn lazy. But you better bet I'll be wearing every time we go out someplace where my parents will worry about being judged--such as church tomorrow, for instance. I'm also wearing black jeans with gold paint and my Seether concert tee. Why? Because I'm a good kid, and because I am my own person, I will not conform to anyone's standards but my own.
Goin' hard, and goin' to church. To worship a god I don't think I've ever really believed in.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Hella Long Time!
It's been a hot minute since I've last posted, so I just thought maybe I'd let the massively unconcerned world and my entirely not-existent audience know that I am in fact still alive. Also, I am officially tattooed!
That's right, anyone who sees my back will now gaze upon the glory that is the word "Fiction" in typeface right smack between my shoulder blades. Everyone who meets me, sees it, and deigns to ask my lowly self about it, will know of my unending devotion and total love for Avenged Sevenfold.
To anyone who decides to ask why I have "Fiction," I will say the following: "A wise man once said, 'My life is kind of like a story that if I told you, you wouldn't believe it... It would seem fictional. And that's me.' That wise man was Jimmy Sullivan, drummer for Avenged Sevenfold. He died in 2009. I never met him, but I like to think I knew a little something about him." Okay, so maybe I'll stop the at the quote... "My life is kind of like a story that if I told you, you wouldn't believe it... It would seem fictional. And that's me."
It was his favorite tattoo. And he absolutely loved seeing fans with Avenged ink. To him, it was the highest honor people could possibly give the band. So, what better way to honor my favorite drummer than to permanently mark myself as someone who cared?
It's not done yet, though. I need a lotus flower under it. But my artist, Evan, told me that the one I wanted wouldn't last very long. So I'm gonna save up some more pennies (literally, I have a coin jar), find some references, and probably get it after Christmas. I just fee like what I have is unfinished, since I wanted the lotus and "Fiction" together.
But it's crazy. It's just crazy, isn't it? I have a tattoo honoring a dead person that I never even met, let alone knew personally. But at the same time... It's crazy that he's gone. It's crazy that I'll never have the chance to show him what I did for him. For all of them, really. I could have gotten his handcuffs or something, but "Fiction" seems so much more like a part of all of them than just for him. Because honestly, for all of them, isn't their story a little far-fetched?
Form a band in high school. That band lasts for years. Produce two albums, enough to live on (kind of, Syn was living on his girlfriend's parents' couch for a bit). Then produce fucking City of Evil. Hit it huge. Do really well for a while, tour for a bit, produce a self-titled master work... Then tour some more.
Then the unthinkable happens. Your best friend, your drummer, your comrade-in-arms, dies. He's gone. What do you do? You produce another album, in his honor. You tour some more, have a new temporary drummer, shit goes down with him. You get another drummer, tour for a bit, and finally, finally, take a break after two years of insanity. Almost three, now.
And rumor has it, they're working on a new album. These people... They are absolutely incredible. They didn't stop. In Matt's words, they could either miss him at home, or on tour. They chose on tour. They chose to be there for their fans. They chose not to fade away or burn out. They're far from done. Their rock may be gone, but they will never end.
And for that, I am so proud of them. One day I'll show them my tattoo, my first ink, and tell them why I got it.
Rock on, friends. foREVer.
That's right, anyone who sees my back will now gaze upon the glory that is the word "Fiction" in typeface right smack between my shoulder blades. Everyone who meets me, sees it, and deigns to ask my lowly self about it, will know of my unending devotion and total love for Avenged Sevenfold.
To anyone who decides to ask why I have "Fiction," I will say the following: "A wise man once said, 'My life is kind of like a story that if I told you, you wouldn't believe it... It would seem fictional. And that's me.' That wise man was Jimmy Sullivan, drummer for Avenged Sevenfold. He died in 2009. I never met him, but I like to think I knew a little something about him." Okay, so maybe I'll stop the at the quote... "My life is kind of like a story that if I told you, you wouldn't believe it... It would seem fictional. And that's me."
It was his favorite tattoo. And he absolutely loved seeing fans with Avenged ink. To him, it was the highest honor people could possibly give the band. So, what better way to honor my favorite drummer than to permanently mark myself as someone who cared?
It's not done yet, though. I need a lotus flower under it. But my artist, Evan, told me that the one I wanted wouldn't last very long. So I'm gonna save up some more pennies (literally, I have a coin jar), find some references, and probably get it after Christmas. I just fee like what I have is unfinished, since I wanted the lotus and "Fiction" together.
But it's crazy. It's just crazy, isn't it? I have a tattoo honoring a dead person that I never even met, let alone knew personally. But at the same time... It's crazy that he's gone. It's crazy that I'll never have the chance to show him what I did for him. For all of them, really. I could have gotten his handcuffs or something, but "Fiction" seems so much more like a part of all of them than just for him. Because honestly, for all of them, isn't their story a little far-fetched?
Form a band in high school. That band lasts for years. Produce two albums, enough to live on (kind of, Syn was living on his girlfriend's parents' couch for a bit). Then produce fucking City of Evil. Hit it huge. Do really well for a while, tour for a bit, produce a self-titled master work... Then tour some more.
Then the unthinkable happens. Your best friend, your drummer, your comrade-in-arms, dies. He's gone. What do you do? You produce another album, in his honor. You tour some more, have a new temporary drummer, shit goes down with him. You get another drummer, tour for a bit, and finally, finally, take a break after two years of insanity. Almost three, now.
And rumor has it, they're working on a new album. These people... They are absolutely incredible. They didn't stop. In Matt's words, they could either miss him at home, or on tour. They chose on tour. They chose to be there for their fans. They chose not to fade away or burn out. They're far from done. Their rock may be gone, but they will never end.
And for that, I am so proud of them. One day I'll show them my tattoo, my first ink, and tell them why I got it.
Rock on, friends. foREVer.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
September 8th, 2012
I'm gonna write about my dream last night. I think I might do this a lot, so when you see a post with a date on it, that's why.
So, to start off, I was in some kind of strange hotel room for part of it, and my dorm for other parts. I guess I had been going to see Avenged Sevenfold somewhere, and wound up in the same hotel they were staying in... And they were like "Why don't you stay with us?!" and I was like "THAT WOULD BE GREAT AND ALSO I LOVE YOU!" only less crazy. Dream-me is slightly more normal than real-me, I guess. Anyways, I didn't go to a concert so maybe I just randomly met them in a hotel somewhere. (wow. Sketchville, anyone?)
But I hung out with them for a super long time. Like, days maybe. Oh! I remember how I got to stay in their room! I had a new A7X tattoo... It was on my right shoulder and it was an "x" shape with words in it... But I don't remember what words. Underneath it had the words "seize the day or die regretting the time you lost." At one point Syn touched it, and it must've been fairly new cause it hurt. In all honesty it was a pretty fugly tattoo. The ones that I'm getting in real life are a lot better looking, and a couple of them have Avenged Sevenfold meanings, too.
I basically sat there and talked to Syn the whole time. All the other band members were there, except Arin. M Shadz was kind of in and out, but he thought my tattoo was cool. Zacky really liked it, and he was the second-most-present member after Syn (who was there the whole time). Also, Johnny was really quiet and I don't think he said a word to me, despite having been in the room the whole time.
It was pretty great talking to Synyster fuckin' Gates.This is the third or fourth time he's been in my dreams; Zacky has been in one other; M Shadz in two others; Johnny in one; and Arin in none. The Rev, of course, has been in my dream at least three times. Admittedly, one of those times was at his own funeral. Still counts.
Anyways. The end of my dream (it wasn't a real end, I just woke up is all) was back at my dorm. Zacky came with me for god only knows what reason (is it important? didn't think so.). And I got signed up for this thing where you get a bunch of band stuff each month... And it only costed me $8 per month! How great is that?! Totally wish it was real. I got a couple of shirts, slightly advanced copies of albums when they came out, and for some reason, naked action-figure-doll-things. Maybe I got clothes in later months, I don't know and I don't care. The doll that month was Zacky, which might explain why he came to my dorm with me but probably not. There was also a doll of some girl, but I don't know who she was or what sort of relevance she had to the band. I'm pretty sure she wasn't anybody's wife, although maybe she was Zacky's.
Another weird thing about my dream--the guys are always literally larger than life. It's as if they were clipart images and someone dragged the corners to make them proportionally bigger. This is probably because I've heroified them in my mind, so when they appear in my dreams, they appear larger and more...heroic. Or it might just be that the Rev really is that fucking huge and I'm scaling everyone else up so he doesn't look weird. Except he wasn't in my dream last night! So that can't be it!
I don't know. I just wanted to write down this dream so as to remember it foREVer. Even though he wasn't there. Anyways, I'm out. I'll see you later.
--Razza Ragazza
So, to start off, I was in some kind of strange hotel room for part of it, and my dorm for other parts. I guess I had been going to see Avenged Sevenfold somewhere, and wound up in the same hotel they were staying in... And they were like "Why don't you stay with us?!" and I was like "THAT WOULD BE GREAT AND ALSO I LOVE YOU!" only less crazy. Dream-me is slightly more normal than real-me, I guess. Anyways, I didn't go to a concert so maybe I just randomly met them in a hotel somewhere. (wow. Sketchville, anyone?)
But I hung out with them for a super long time. Like, days maybe. Oh! I remember how I got to stay in their room! I had a new A7X tattoo... It was on my right shoulder and it was an "x" shape with words in it... But I don't remember what words. Underneath it had the words "seize the day or die regretting the time you lost." At one point Syn touched it, and it must've been fairly new cause it hurt. In all honesty it was a pretty fugly tattoo. The ones that I'm getting in real life are a lot better looking, and a couple of them have Avenged Sevenfold meanings, too.
I basically sat there and talked to Syn the whole time. All the other band members were there, except Arin. M Shadz was kind of in and out, but he thought my tattoo was cool. Zacky really liked it, and he was the second-most-present member after Syn (who was there the whole time). Also, Johnny was really quiet and I don't think he said a word to me, despite having been in the room the whole time.
It was pretty great talking to Synyster fuckin' Gates.This is the third or fourth time he's been in my dreams; Zacky has been in one other; M Shadz in two others; Johnny in one; and Arin in none. The Rev, of course, has been in my dream at least three times. Admittedly, one of those times was at his own funeral. Still counts.
Anyways. The end of my dream (it wasn't a real end, I just woke up is all) was back at my dorm. Zacky came with me for god only knows what reason (is it important? didn't think so.). And I got signed up for this thing where you get a bunch of band stuff each month... And it only costed me $8 per month! How great is that?! Totally wish it was real. I got a couple of shirts, slightly advanced copies of albums when they came out, and for some reason, naked action-figure-doll-things. Maybe I got clothes in later months, I don't know and I don't care. The doll that month was Zacky, which might explain why he came to my dorm with me but probably not. There was also a doll of some girl, but I don't know who she was or what sort of relevance she had to the band. I'm pretty sure she wasn't anybody's wife, although maybe she was Zacky's.
Another weird thing about my dream--the guys are always literally larger than life. It's as if they were clipart images and someone dragged the corners to make them proportionally bigger. This is probably because I've heroified them in my mind, so when they appear in my dreams, they appear larger and more...heroic. Or it might just be that the Rev really is that fucking huge and I'm scaling everyone else up so he doesn't look weird. Except he wasn't in my dream last night! So that can't be it!
I don't know. I just wanted to write down this dream so as to remember it foREVer. Even though he wasn't there. Anyways, I'm out. I'll see you later.
--Razza Ragazza
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