This is bullshit. Applying for FAFSA is fucking bullshit. I jump through all these fucking hoops and now I get stopped just because my father's alive. To quickly explain why his living is a bad thing: my parents have been divorced since I was about 1 year old. My mother had sole custody over my brothers and myself until she died. She died when I turned 18 which automatically makes me an independent. I checked that box on FAFSA because my father does jack shit to provide for my well being. He doesn't even send me money once a month, which he did for my brothers. If I want money from him I have to either directly ask him for it, or I have to try to beg for it by sounding as pathetic as I can to see if he gives me anything. It's gatdamn bullshit.
Cut to now. My mother has been dead for three years, I've been an independent and my father isn't giving me shit. I haven't been working but I've had my inheritance to spend on school for three years, it's running a bit low. I call campus Financial Aid to figure out why they need my father's information and it's because he's alive. If I say I made an attempt to contact him they'll say that and I guess I'll be awarded the money they tentatively told me I could receive. The problem herein lies in the fact that my father will respond, he will fill in his tax information and FAFSA might not give me any money because he of whatever he fucking makes. Or they'll give me less. Either way it works out not in my benefit and I might be screwed and have to apply for a loan from somewhere else.
I guess I understand where the government is coming from in wanting both parent's information, but he's dead. If my mother was still alive they wouldn't have needed his information because she had custody, so now, just because she's dead and he isn't they need his information. I honestly don't know how much he makes, I'm just assuming it's more then enough to keep me from getting shit and that makes me a very sad Jasmine. Sad and furious. I bet you that if I had been in trouble and I told the government the same shit about m father they wouldn't care that he's alive. But when I need money from them they make me jump through the most idiotic of hoops to get a few pennies. In the grand scheme of things $20k isn't that much to the government, I don't understand why they're trying to hard now to not spend it when they spend a few million if not billion every fucking day. I mean if education is so important in this country make it easier for people to either afford fucking college or make it easier for people to get money to pay for college.
I just want money for school. I want to be done with school and I want to really be perceived as an adult because this shit makes me feel like a child. I hate feeling like a child.
Jasmine P.
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anger. Show all posts
July 16, 2010
June 30, 2010
My Past 24 Hours: A Hellish Roller Coaster
Yesterday I spent about...4 hours watching the first two series of Black Books which was created by Graham Linham and Dylan Moran. It's a fantastically awesome series about three misanthropes. Bernard Black run Black Books, a used bookstore; Manny goes bonkers and starts working there and Bernard's friend Fran spends a lot of time hanging out in the shop. They live drinking, smoking and being all around ridiculous. The characters remind me a bit of a British It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia at times, the humor isn't as dry as some British comedies can be. It made yesterday pretty damn awesome as I started sinking into being depressed.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
Speaking of being depressed...I went to counseling yesterday morning, like most Tuesdays. Prior to I did that stupid thing where I sleep for four hours. Seriously, I think it's a retarded side effect from quitting smoking. I don't know, it's really friggin' annoying. I woke up at 6, I was able to get back to sleep, but being awake was not plesant. It's not like I didn't feel rested, but I know me and I know my habits so I don't understand why I keep waking up after only four hours of sleep.
In councling I spoke about what's gone on over the past week including going to a festival this past Friday and going to a youth church thing. I can appreciate where the group is coming from by using rap to make the youth feel closer to the message [it was a predominantly black church group] but I don't agree. It sounded mostly like hardcore rap which seems a little counterproductive. What I mean is, if it sounds like gangster, shoot-'em-up rap and you can't understand what's being said, how do they know the message they intended got across to the youth? If you look at my track record of music habits I'm across the board, except for hardcore rap. I never liked that sound, it has never been pleasing to my ears so I was judgemental. If you remember my earlier blogs about my opinion of religion I was already going in judging. I tried to get with it but I couldn't. When the speaker got up on stage to preach I was more or less fine with the message. He spoke about not giving up because something is too hard. That's the Devil's work getting you off your proper path. That I could get behind. I could not agree with his use of a cancer analogy.
For the newcomers, my mother died from cancer. I don't like talking about cancer in that ambiguous manner that if someone died from it, they gave up. Bull-fucking-shit. My family and I never 'gave up hope' we held out candle for my mother the entire time she was ill. We prayed, our church prayed, her co-workers prayed. She's now on a prayer list or something with some church, still. People have not forgotten us. There were a lot of people who didn't give up praying for her. The doctors did the best the could and ended up trying to keep her pain manageable. She died because of science. Why do I not want to accept it as God's will? I'll tell you. I don't want to accept it as God's will because I still needed her. I still need her.
I have met a lot of people who care, who will give me advice and help me should I ask, and even if I don't ask all the time. That's all well and dandy but my mother is still dead. It's not the same. If God cared about me than why did she need to die? So I could grow up? What's going to happen in my life that I couldn't stay naive for a few months longer, a few years longer.
Why did she have to die, science can explain. The massive amounts of chemicals in her system took their toll on her body, it could not take it anymore. Her kidney's stopped flushing water from her blood; her lungs deteriorated from pneumonia getting a hold of her chemotherapy weakened system and her body was too far deceased and disconnected to continue. Her body knew it was time, it tried to keep up but it couldn't repair itself fast enough. The thought that biology happened, that it's the natural order of life and death, that all living things die at some point made me feel better than saying 'God wanted her to come home.' Science gives me answers. I believe in science. I believe in some deity getting things started and is now sitting back or just plain gone and this world continues circling that fucking star. Science has yet to give us all the answers. I can accept that. I mean, if the universe started from the 'Big Bang' where did the elements come from for that initial beginning? If they came from an even earlier universe, what happened to that one? And where did that one come from?
We don't know, so I believe in science as far as it can give me an educated answer. It might all be wrong but it makes enough sense and seems plausible enough for me.
I left counseling this morning with my counselor asking me to detail how I felt as my mother was sick, when she died and after. Thankfully I have so many damn blogs and journals it's kind of like aggregating it and maybe writing something new, or taking this. Not too sure yet.
I left counseling and killed some time until I went out to Jerry's Art-Arama to get supplies for my color theory class. I spent $184 to get my supplies, giant 19X24 bristol, color aid, pencils, triangle, compass and a shit ton of 'other'. I did get to save abut $20, my friend who is now dropping the class, is letting me borrow some things for the duration which is pretty sweet.
Now, the trip back from Jerry's, which is out in Virginia Beach was an interesting and highly irritating one. Remember how I said I was slipping into depression last night? Well it reared it's bastardly ugly head. Fucking bastard. People's driving was irritating me and my friend tried to give me some advice on how to deal with it. It didn't help. I was in the middle of being depressed, being told just about anything does not help. We were stuck in traffic because of an accident on 64 and people just kept irritating me. My friend couldn't placate me and was actually counter productive. When I cry I don't want to be told it's fine to cry, I like rationalizing things out. I like words, I like taking the elusive and explaining it to the best of my ability. Why? It focuses me. It keeps me in control. I like being in control.
That's not to say I don't let myself go and go with the flow of things. I have been stepping out of my box, out f my comfort zone for a while, trying new things. At the festival I tried crawfish, I went back to a church for the first time in three years, I've gone out with people I don't know. I have no problem feeling joy, happiness, bliss, anger, irritation, depression. I feel, I like feeling with words. Tears do nothing. No, crying doesn't make me feel better, I hate crying, I hate it when I cry, it's like I've lost control in an unpleasant way. Science on wikipedia gives me a few answers but not much is going on right now to really prompt this. It's irritating and I really can't stand crying.
And looking at that and knowing me I can now predict a few things. As I said yesterday I knew I was getting depressed. As I cried I said I was feeling depressed. I've written more journals in the past few weeks than I have in a while. Writing is one of the things I do when I'm depressed, I'm trying to put my feelings into words, trying to work through it. Writing about any thing that comes to mind. [Yes, I want 'any' and 'thing' to be separate words]. I've been depressed and I'm PMS-ing. I'm not as hard up about candy unless I'm pms-ing, and I want peanut butter. It was never chocolate for me, always peanut butter. At the moment it's peanut butter M&Ms, yeah there's chocolate, but it's about the peanut butter. It's usually Reese's Pieces, I know these things.
So I'm in my car, trapped in my traffic, in the Virginia heat [with A/C], and I'm crying and depressed. My friend it telling me it's fine. It's not fine. It's never fine when I cry. Very few of my friends have seen me cry and it's always when I can't put my frustrations into words.
I hate crying. Period.
I dropped him off, came home, and made a 16 oz Cosmopolitan in a water-bottle. I downed it in an hour and rolled around on my bed drunk and doing nothing on the internet until I decided to see Toy Story 3. I have been thinking about not seeing it, but in the long run I had to. It was awesome. I didn't like that the three trailer's before the movie were for 3D flicks, I saw Toy Store in classic 2D and these trailers seemed like those movies weren't going to be distributed in 2D, I assume they will be but we'll see. One of these days on my movie blog I'll put up my opinion about 3D and elaborate on my distaste for it. And if you pop over to my movie blog, you can see my opinion on making pseudo 3D/CGI animated films, as critiqued by the Smurfs movie slated for next year. I also have some ideas about photo-realism, which can fit into that blog but will get it's own, because that owl movie looks creepy (it had human eyes..wtf?!? -ovular-). But, I don't like barn owls, their faces are disturbingly flat, and the movie seems to 'star' a barn owl. Joy. Or it's a masked owl...I don't like the flatter faces. The other things I noticed in the trailers is that there are two animated movies for this summer/fall that seem like they're supposed to be sympathetic to villains. The Will Ferrel one, Mastermind or whatever (...'it's BIG for a reason'...great, penis envy jokes); and the Steve Carell one, Despicable Me (reading this plot, this seems weak. I like the beginning idea, but where it goes, not as much). I think the trailer could be made stronger if the minion characters said the word right, instead of tailoring it to kids, if they broke it down on the screen for the kid to learn the damn word and not having the minion stumble on the word then having the announcer say it correctly.
So, Toy Story 3, fantastic. It was also hella depressing. It was also hella brilliant. I loved the toys that were there in the the day care, I loved how things played out. It was all really well written an animated. I don't want to spoil much, but I do with that more had been done with Bonnie's toys, they were awesome. And great voices all around. I could have gone with the Spanish Buzz joke, it went on a bit too long for me and seemed to be a little contrived, but outside of that bit of nit picking I enjoyed everything. It was written on a kid's level, but was great for adults without it needing to be vulgar, a la Shrek.
Yeah...I came back home and wrote all this out. It's taken me a bit more than an hour. So today was a roller coaster of hell, kind of. But I feel better now that I've written..something! See, crying doesn't help, words do!
Jasmine P.
January 7, 2010
Why
Fuck the MPAA
I have said time and time again that I don't like the MPAA. I like the idea of it, but it's practice is so fucked up it's not doing much real good. It's a pack of people who are trying ot police other people's families, to police other people. Why? I think that just listing what's in a movie should be fine and not the soul crushing rating of G, PG, PG-13, R, and NC-17, I don't remember if X is still being used.
The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) and its international counterpart, the Motion Picture Association (MPA) serve as the voice and advocate of the American motion picture, home video and television industries, domestically through the MPAA and internationally through the MPA. Today, these associations represent not only the world of theatrical film, but serve as leader and advocate for major producers and distributors of entertainment programming for television, cable, home video and future delivery systems not yet imagined.
Founded in 1922 as the trade association of the American film industry, the MPAA has broadened its mandate over the years to reflect the diversity of an ever changing and expanding industry. The initial task assigned to the association was to stem criticism of American movies, which were then silent, and to restore a more favorable public image for the motion picture business. Today the association continues to advocate for strong protection of the creative works produced and distributed by the industry, fights copyright theft around the world, and provides leadership in meeting new and emerging industry challenges.
And it's parent company, the MPA
Our member companies' films are shown in theaters in more than 100 countries around the world and on television in more than 120 countries. The U.S. film industry provides the majority of home entertainment products seen in millions of homes throughout the world. This complex audiovisual industry is represented globally by the Motion Picture Association.
The MPA was formed in 1945 in the aftermath of World War II to reestablish American films in the world market, and to respond to the rising tide of protectionism resulting in barriers aimed at restricting the importation of American films.
"Today the [MPAA] continues to advocate for strong protection of the creative works produced." Really? I hear time and time again about directors damn near whoring themselves to get a lower rating because they don't believe their film is all that bad. If not for the fact that I have and have seen 'This Film is Not Yet Rated' a documentary from 2006 that discusses how the MPAA works with directors and filmmakers, I'd wonder what the criteria were for hiring someone to the ratings board. The film described it to a minor extent, but the information about some of the members of that years MPAA board intrigued me the most. Not everyone had children, or if they did their children were grown adults.
I continue to say ‘fuck the MPAA’ because they’re not addressing the content of films half the time, it’s the aesthetic of the film. It’s not plot points or ideas more often than not it’s language, violence and sexual situations. Those are more aesthetic than content in the film, and now people are advocating for the MPAA to cut down on smoking by automatically giving any movie where people smoke an R rating. Why? People smoke in real life. As a child I was dissuaded from smoking because I didn’t like the smell of the ash. My mother and grandfather smoked around me. My mom stopped because I asked her to. My mother was the most influential person in my life, and still is, amazingly so with her being dead and all, but ces’t la vie?
My point is that rating a movie R for smoking is akin to rating it R for alcohol, or for humping and sex. They’d soon be rating movies for necking, and it’s annoying enough that breasts are out, and the penis was just about never able to be seen on screen. None of these things are really content wise to the movies, its people who take some sort of virgin or puritanical offense at these things. Ignoring the hypothetical and back to the reality of the situation, the two things that give a movie an R rating in America are sex, and cursing, specifically the word ‘fuck’. Sex is because people have some issue with the human body. Cursing, that’s down right biblical. “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” – Ephisians 4:20 [NIV].
I got sidetracked, my point is what is the MPAA really for? What they seem to be doing much of the time is policing other people and other people’s families and children. A better way for rating movies is to just take the little box from under the rating, make it bigger and call it a day. What box? The one that lists what’s in a movie, like ‘harsh language’ or ‘brief nudity’ etc. Inform people so they can make an educated decision. Parents should work at being positively involved in their children’s lives and not just there because they made them. Ask them about movies they want to see, ask them why. With the MPAA that we have now, families are coddled and parents have become lazy. They expect other people to tell them how to raise their children instead of taking the reins themselves.
I also advocate in parents policing their children because they would then be accountable, but people love not being accountable for things. They run and hide from criticism and accountability because they like having someone else to blame for why their children are fucked up. But the biggest part in them blaming someone else, it ultimately loops back to them and their inability to train and educate their children themselves.
But back to the MPAA and smoking as an R rating. What would that accomplish is what I really want to know. Yes, children would not be able to see smoking in the movies, but what about reality? In walking down a real New York street at least one in every ten or twenty people I saw was smoking. Going to a 7-Eleven the other night a car pulled up, the passenger was smoking a cigarette and the driver lit up a stogie. People smoke in real life. What about period pieces then? Smoking was pretty much considered a health benefit until the late 20th century. I’m saying, are you going to show me a western, or a movie about 1910 or about the settlers and people won’t be smoking.
Yes, smoking is harmful; yes, smoking is dangerous to your health. But remember, people have been smoking for hundreds and hundreds of years and acting like they didn’t isn’t going to help. I’m not advocating ultra-realism, movies are my escape from the doldrums of my day to day life of going to class or sitting around doing nothing. I’m advocating keeping life real enough that people can accept it. I accept and enjoy movies where people don’t smoke at all, I can also accept and enjoy movies where people smoke. It’s an aesthetic not content. Stop worrying about aesthetics and worry about the content that children get to see.
My biggest reason for leaving smoking in a movie is that it’s life. Life happens, if a character would do something, let them. Why change their character just to fit somebody else's moral standards. My standards are not those of my brothers. They make share similarities, but they’re ultimately not the same. But this blog is what inspired me to stick out my hat. It says what I want to say better, and more directly, but mine was not a failed effort.
Jasmine P.
I continue to say ‘fuck the MPAA’ because they’re not addressing the content of films half the time, it’s the aesthetic of the film. It’s not plot points or ideas more often than not it’s language, violence and sexual situations. Those are more aesthetic than content in the film, and now people are advocating for the MPAA to cut down on smoking by automatically giving any movie where people smoke an R rating. Why? People smoke in real life. As a child I was dissuaded from smoking because I didn’t like the smell of the ash. My mother and grandfather smoked around me. My mom stopped because I asked her to. My mother was the most influential person in my life, and still is, amazingly so with her being dead and all, but ces’t la vie?
My point is that rating a movie R for smoking is akin to rating it R for alcohol, or for humping and sex. They’d soon be rating movies for necking, and it’s annoying enough that breasts are out, and the penis was just about never able to be seen on screen. None of these things are really content wise to the movies, its people who take some sort of virgin or puritanical offense at these things. Ignoring the hypothetical and back to the reality of the situation, the two things that give a movie an R rating in America are sex, and cursing, specifically the word ‘fuck’. Sex is because people have some issue with the human body. Cursing, that’s down right biblical. “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.” – Ephisians 4:20 [NIV].
I got sidetracked, my point is what is the MPAA really for? What they seem to be doing much of the time is policing other people and other people’s families and children. A better way for rating movies is to just take the little box from under the rating, make it bigger and call it a day. What box? The one that lists what’s in a movie, like ‘harsh language’ or ‘brief nudity’ etc. Inform people so they can make an educated decision. Parents should work at being positively involved in their children’s lives and not just there because they made them. Ask them about movies they want to see, ask them why. With the MPAA that we have now, families are coddled and parents have become lazy. They expect other people to tell them how to raise their children instead of taking the reins themselves.
I also advocate in parents policing their children because they would then be accountable, but people love not being accountable for things. They run and hide from criticism and accountability because they like having someone else to blame for why their children are fucked up. But the biggest part in them blaming someone else, it ultimately loops back to them and their inability to train and educate their children themselves.
But back to the MPAA and smoking as an R rating. What would that accomplish is what I really want to know. Yes, children would not be able to see smoking in the movies, but what about reality? In walking down a real New York street at least one in every ten or twenty people I saw was smoking. Going to a 7-Eleven the other night a car pulled up, the passenger was smoking a cigarette and the driver lit up a stogie. People smoke in real life. What about period pieces then? Smoking was pretty much considered a health benefit until the late 20th century. I’m saying, are you going to show me a western, or a movie about 1910 or about the settlers and people won’t be smoking.
Yes, smoking is harmful; yes, smoking is dangerous to your health. But remember, people have been smoking for hundreds and hundreds of years and acting like they didn’t isn’t going to help. I’m not advocating ultra-realism, movies are my escape from the doldrums of my day to day life of going to class or sitting around doing nothing. I’m advocating keeping life real enough that people can accept it. I accept and enjoy movies where people don’t smoke at all, I can also accept and enjoy movies where people smoke. It’s an aesthetic not content. Stop worrying about aesthetics and worry about the content that children get to see.
My biggest reason for leaving smoking in a movie is that it’s life. Life happens, if a character would do something, let them. Why change their character just to fit somebody else's moral standards. My standards are not those of my brothers. They make share similarities, but they’re ultimately not the same. But this blog is what inspired me to stick out my hat. It says what I want to say better, and more directly, but mine was not a failed effort.
Jasmine P.
November 27, 2009
Nothing Ever Changes
It's never fair. I'm not super happy right now, I rarely get what I want. Yes, a new phone is nice, but I did ask for an mp3 player. I don't come home because I can't deal with my brother. Either he decides to be pissy over something I've barely done, or I get angry with him. It's not healthy, and it's not right. I don't like coming home, not just because of the trip, but I never feel respected. I was the one with the remote, I had the choice of what to watch on tv. When we were younger I never said anything. I'm tired of acquiescing. I have the right to watch what I want to on my own or with other people. I should be respected. I am not respected by my eldest brother. I don't know what I feel right now, but I'm tired of crying. I'm tired of being depressed and feeling like no one respects me.
Yes, I understand you're going to work in an hour. So what if I'll be able to watch TV for the rest of the day, I wasn't planning on it, I was planning on getting out. I was planning on having fun and being happy. This day can turn around, but right now it sucks. I don't say anything because I knew he wouldn't understand. I wasn't talking about today or now. I was talking about before. Things change but they mostly stay the same. Yes, I do think about you. I put myself is places or not in places because I want to stay happy and because it's for you.
You make things too fucking difficult. You're too much of a wild card. I try one thing you take it the wrong way. But seriously. It's fucking television. I don't have cable, I don't spend my time watching TV or playing video games. I don't because I don't have it. Coming home's a treat because there are things here that I don't have in Norfolk. You make me not like being home, I don't like coming back to Reston because things in the house suck. You fucking smoke weed all the goddamn time, I never say anything. I never said a damned word when I heard you and your girlfriend having sex. When I come home and we're eating I next to never say a word about whatever's on TV, I'll watch it, or I go away because I don't like it.
That's my problem, I stay quiet too much, I never say anything. Maybe I'll start speaking up more, maybe that will make me happy. I always talk big when I write, but nothing ever changes. But I try. I try valiently, in my opinion, to roll with whatever happens. I try not to let him get to me. But in this instance I can remember them not like That 70's Show all that much and my wanting to watch it. Now it's not so much that I didn't want to watch it, I wanted the choice of watching it or not.
I'm also annoyed because I did so much work yesterday. He had next to nothing. He made cornbread, and he put the dishes in the dishwasher. He took a nap after doing nothing to help. I on the other hand, made sweet potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, a turkey, a ham, mashed potatoes. My other brother made macaroni and cheese, stuffing and string beans. I did the heaving lifting, they barely said 'thank you'. I am so fucking under-appreciated. I feel that way if it's not the case.
I feel unloved. I don't feel like anybody really loves me. I know they both care, but really, how much would change if I didn't come home? We never do anything all together, I come home to see my friends. I always say things about 'the three of us' it feels more like it's 'the two of them, plus me'. As an adult, I'm still a hanger-on. I felt more welcome or appreciated when my brother's friend was here yesterday. Then I felt alone in a crowd. I want to disappear and not tell them where I go, see how much they care. Seriously, were I to drop off the face of the earth, would they care? I saw not him so much. More out of obligation than real caring.
Once I was angry I didn't care. Back the what started this I might have chosen 'That 70's Show' to watch anyway. That's the retarted part. Give me the chance to see what's on first. I don't get respected and it upsets me. I want to be loved, feel like someone loves me, cares about me. More than that, I want to feel respected. He was too dense to even notice that I said that I bet. I try to stay happy, content. I try so damned hard.
I'm fucking tired of crying, I'm tired of being depressed. I damn near want to hop in the car and go back to Norfolk today, after I finish my laundry. I'd be alone, and I'd have Borjo. I'd have people who aren't my brothers. I'd have my independence back, I'd feel like an adult. I'm independent here, I feel like and adult but I'd have respect. I would be respected in my own domicile, I'd have people to chit-chat with. I wasn't alone in the house yesterday, but for the better part of the day I was alone. Between 9am and about 9pm it was me in the kitchen. The guys made and appearance, then went to the basement, one of them was around for about the hour. The other barely did anything.
I damn near want to find a bar to escape to, but drinking alone in the epitome of lame and depression. I'm tired of being alone.
I'm tired of so much shit. I think it's time to take a shower, venture out to a coffee shop with a book, but on a day like today, trying to find a comfortable Borjo like atmosphere would be that much more difficult. But an adventure could clear the head and cheer me up.
Why do I make fewer typos when I'm upset?
Jasmine P.
Yes, I understand you're going to work in an hour. So what if I'll be able to watch TV for the rest of the day, I wasn't planning on it, I was planning on getting out. I was planning on having fun and being happy. This day can turn around, but right now it sucks. I don't say anything because I knew he wouldn't understand. I wasn't talking about today or now. I was talking about before. Things change but they mostly stay the same. Yes, I do think about you. I put myself is places or not in places because I want to stay happy and because it's for you.
You make things too fucking difficult. You're too much of a wild card. I try one thing you take it the wrong way. But seriously. It's fucking television. I don't have cable, I don't spend my time watching TV or playing video games. I don't because I don't have it. Coming home's a treat because there are things here that I don't have in Norfolk. You make me not like being home, I don't like coming back to Reston because things in the house suck. You fucking smoke weed all the goddamn time, I never say anything. I never said a damned word when I heard you and your girlfriend having sex. When I come home and we're eating I next to never say a word about whatever's on TV, I'll watch it, or I go away because I don't like it.
That's my problem, I stay quiet too much, I never say anything. Maybe I'll start speaking up more, maybe that will make me happy. I always talk big when I write, but nothing ever changes. But I try. I try valiently, in my opinion, to roll with whatever happens. I try not to let him get to me. But in this instance I can remember them not like That 70's Show all that much and my wanting to watch it. Now it's not so much that I didn't want to watch it, I wanted the choice of watching it or not.
I'm also annoyed because I did so much work yesterday. He had next to nothing. He made cornbread, and he put the dishes in the dishwasher. He took a nap after doing nothing to help. I on the other hand, made sweet potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, a turkey, a ham, mashed potatoes. My other brother made macaroni and cheese, stuffing and string beans. I did the heaving lifting, they barely said 'thank you'. I am so fucking under-appreciated. I feel that way if it's not the case.
I feel unloved. I don't feel like anybody really loves me. I know they both care, but really, how much would change if I didn't come home? We never do anything all together, I come home to see my friends. I always say things about 'the three of us' it feels more like it's 'the two of them, plus me'. As an adult, I'm still a hanger-on. I felt more welcome or appreciated when my brother's friend was here yesterday. Then I felt alone in a crowd. I want to disappear and not tell them where I go, see how much they care. Seriously, were I to drop off the face of the earth, would they care? I saw not him so much. More out of obligation than real caring.
Once I was angry I didn't care. Back the what started this I might have chosen 'That 70's Show' to watch anyway. That's the retarted part. Give me the chance to see what's on first. I don't get respected and it upsets me. I want to be loved, feel like someone loves me, cares about me. More than that, I want to feel respected. He was too dense to even notice that I said that I bet. I try to stay happy, content. I try so damned hard.
I'm fucking tired of crying, I'm tired of being depressed. I damn near want to hop in the car and go back to Norfolk today, after I finish my laundry. I'd be alone, and I'd have Borjo. I'd have people who aren't my brothers. I'd have my independence back, I'd feel like an adult. I'm independent here, I feel like and adult but I'd have respect. I would be respected in my own domicile, I'd have people to chit-chat with. I wasn't alone in the house yesterday, but for the better part of the day I was alone. Between 9am and about 9pm it was me in the kitchen. The guys made and appearance, then went to the basement, one of them was around for about the hour. The other barely did anything.
I damn near want to find a bar to escape to, but drinking alone in the epitome of lame and depression. I'm tired of being alone.
I'm tired of so much shit. I think it's time to take a shower, venture out to a coffee shop with a book, but on a day like today, trying to find a comfortable Borjo like atmosphere would be that much more difficult. But an adventure could clear the head and cheer me up.
Why do I make fewer typos when I'm upset?
Jasmine P.
September 2, 2009
I am who I say I am
I'm reading the Declaration of Independence for the first time of ever. I just realized, I've studied the creation of this document, but I've never actually read it, or had it read. People talk about what it stands for, and they love the second paragraph, it's not even the first one that has the lines 'We hold these truths to be self evident that all men are created equal...' with all the times we read the Articles of Confederation and the Bill of Rights, I don't understand why I have never really done a unit on the DoI.
This isn't about the Declaration, it's about St. Patrick's Day, actually. Near the end of the document Jefferson brought of Scottish mercenaries that were being hired and I assume sent over to the Colonies. Reading that, I thought of the statement that on St. Patrick's Day, everyone's Irish because I still get those two countries mixed up. The point is, I still don't give a rat's ass about March 15. I will never agree to be Irish. I don't like beer and I don't understand why it's celebrated in America, mixing pot or not, what are American's celebrating. But to my point, I'm not fucking Irish. Not that I know of, who knows what may have gotten into my family generations ago, but I've never considered myself Irish and find the sentiment that on the day some fucker died, people decided to insist that 'everyone' was 'Irish'. I have friends who will insist it to me, and I at them and say 'I'm not fucking Irish' because I don't relate to the 'holiday' at all.
Seriously, after middle school, I didn't care. I will go out of my way to not wear green and I will hit people who think it's cute to pinch me for not wearing green. Friend or unknown. I dunno, I'm tired, I feel a bit on edge and angry. It's now two days in a row I'm only sleeping for three hours, I don't have my sleeping pills, which annoyingly may be the issue, but who the fuck knows. I still have to answer a few questions about a draft of the DoI and the one that we apparently don't know.
Ths who point of this was to say: I'm not fucking Irish. Don't kiss me, because I'm not fucking Irish. I will punch a bitch because I'm not wearing green on a day I don't care about, because I'm not fucking Irish. I fucking hate beer. If it's green, keep it triply far away from me, some thins shouldn't not be a color other than it's 'natural' color.Get away you green, vomiting fucks. But most importantly, I'm not fucking Irish so don't tell me I am. I don't want to be Irish, I want to be me. I don't care about drinking into alcoholic poison levels, and if I did I don't need some arbitrary and idiotic day as an excuse, enough depressing and annoying shit happens on the day t day basis that if I really wanted to drink myself to death, I could for a better reason than fucking being Irish.
I ought to make that shirt 'I'm not fucking Irish, so go the fuck away' or simply 'I'm not fucking Irish'
This isn't about the Declaration, it's about St. Patrick's Day, actually. Near the end of the document Jefferson brought of Scottish mercenaries that were being hired and I assume sent over to the Colonies. Reading that, I thought of the statement that on St. Patrick's Day, everyone's Irish because I still get those two countries mixed up. The point is, I still don't give a rat's ass about March 15. I will never agree to be Irish. I don't like beer and I don't understand why it's celebrated in America, mixing pot or not, what are American's celebrating. But to my point, I'm not fucking Irish. Not that I know of, who knows what may have gotten into my family generations ago, but I've never considered myself Irish and find the sentiment that on the day some fucker died, people decided to insist that 'everyone' was 'Irish'. I have friends who will insist it to me, and I at them and say 'I'm not fucking Irish' because I don't relate to the 'holiday' at all.
Seriously, after middle school, I didn't care. I will go out of my way to not wear green and I will hit people who think it's cute to pinch me for not wearing green. Friend or unknown. I dunno, I'm tired, I feel a bit on edge and angry. It's now two days in a row I'm only sleeping for three hours, I don't have my sleeping pills, which annoyingly may be the issue, but who the fuck knows. I still have to answer a few questions about a draft of the DoI and the one that we apparently don't know.
Ths who point of this was to say: I'm not fucking Irish. Don't kiss me, because I'm not fucking Irish. I will punch a bitch because I'm not wearing green on a day I don't care about, because I'm not fucking Irish. I fucking hate beer. If it's green, keep it triply far away from me, some thins shouldn't not be a color other than it's 'natural' color.Get away you green, vomiting fucks. But most importantly, I'm not fucking Irish so don't tell me I am. I don't want to be Irish, I want to be me. I don't care about drinking into alcoholic poison levels, and if I did I don't need some arbitrary and idiotic day as an excuse, enough depressing and annoying shit happens on the day t day basis that if I really wanted to drink myself to death, I could for a better reason than fucking being Irish.
I ought to make that shirt 'I'm not fucking Irish, so go the fuck away' or simply 'I'm not fucking Irish'
May 10, 2009
Holidays Love Misery
Hello all! Here's another installment of my observations f the world around me and my questioning the motivations for what I see. I consider this to be a 'proper' journal for my to be writing because my day to day life isn't interesting enough for me to want to write about anyway. Hell, I think my last journal was on how nothnig was going on, but I was vaguely compelled to write anyway.
But first! A quick flash back to something I think I wrote back around Easter: [blank] I have no idea where that rant went...I remember writing somewhere about how I had no use for holiday's. I could have sword it was written on/around Easter, but I can't find anything about it. It may have been written in February about the lack there of of press for Black History Month.
I totally forgot my point after reading my first 6 journals here. They were terrible, no description of anything. I was keeping secrets from myself at times, and now, I post waaaay too much information. Cheers!
So, onto holidays. It might just be me, but it seems like the world over, retail over, people don't seem to be taking as much of a vested intereste din selling a holiday anymore. Not so much as when I was a kid. I'm not complaing so much as commentating. It's just that I walk into a Wal-Greens and there's barely anything they're trying to pimp for Mother's Day. What little television I've watched recently there've been very few commercials for this day either. It's almost as if the world doesn't care about holidays too much anymore. Well, some of them. I was in the mall, true, I was only up by the movie theater, but still, not much trying to pimp last minute gifts, which is what any mall is all about. I know times have changed, but...
On love.
This was originally going to be about holiday's and misery, but after I wrote that title, I knew I could write this and it would work out awesomely. Plus, that title wins.
Last night I went out on a date with Paul. I guess it was supposed to be a date, neither of us said that, and I've never been on a date, but I think that's what it all wrapped up to be. We went out and saw the new Star Trek movie, and I've never been a Trek fan, but this movie was pretty entertaining. I'd almost be interested in watching the show. If nothing else, I'll check out some of the other ST flicks, and maybe some of the future ones. I wasn't too into it until Kirk got into space. Too amused by the fact that he got his ass kicked thrice in the movie. Sometimes it's the little things that make me laugh, but it was one gorgeous piece of celluloid. I'll tell you what.
Ahem, the date. He paid for the movie, for the snacks and picked me up for it. We chatted prior to and after the movie. Still awkward saying goodbye, and he said he'd call today, which means tomorrow if I'm lucky, haha. Chances are we'll chat soon enough, and do something else together. Still, it makes me happy to think about him. Also, it's sad that this amuses me as much as it does, but after he commented on how scarcastic I am, I stopped being as scarcastic to him, but last night I had to! For Monsters vs Aliens there are these bins to collect the 3-D glasses after the movie. It says it alll around the box like, twenty times. He has to look inside the box. I had to laugh with him about it. it wasn't mean spirited, but it was funny. The box said that's where the glasses went, but he had to open it. My type of person, looking anyway. I didn't expect it to be full, but I also wasn't compelled to look. It was fun. Truely.
Now onto the misery =D
The following comments, long sentences, if you will, are partially to blame for this rant being ranted here, but c'est la vie :/
-The MB is such a cunt. I woke up and walked around the kitchen, there was a damp dirty sock on the towel where i dry my dishes. Why? Idk!!
-We're also the only people in the apt, and there were plenty of other counter space for her disgusting unsanitary sock. Fucking cunt.
-Why would misery want the company of one they disliked. MB might have to stand for miserable bitch, because she's that, and seems to cont.
-Want to bring me down to her unhappy level too. I've bothered nothing of hers, but she has this compulsion to mess with my possessions. Sad.
Those four tweets , and actually that final one, made her actions make sense to me. She's miserable, and I'm not. So fucking what i took back my own paper towels. Go buy your own. I don't have to share anything of mine with you. I haven't touched a damn thing of hers for personal gain other than moving it out of my way so I could go about my business. Time and time again I've seen my food go missing, an abnormal amount of my cleaning supplies gone and used, and my things moved. It's sad that it took me all year to realize she's just a miserable cunt whose bothered by my happiness. Anytime I'm happy she goes out of her way to make me unhappy. Hell, she usually looks haggered and unhappy when I see her, no matter what she's doing. I know I've walked past her and I looked happy. Not trying to look happy, but I was in a much better mood than she is.
My opinion is she's also a miserable little frig because she left her home the day before Mother's Day, when her mother is alive and I assume well. People with mother's take them for granted. I don't understand why she's not home expressing her love for her mother. I'm going to be out in Wisconsin for Father's Day, I loath my father, but I can be civil enough to call him while I'm there. Maybe I'll draw him a picture. That's not a terrible idea. But back to the Miserable Cunt or Midget Bitch because she's both. I've wasted more time this year dealing with my issues with her but it's only right that I finish it up. She's just in unhappy soul, it's almost as if she doesn't know how to be happy and I think my relaxed or passe or cheerful demeanor frighten her, so she retaliates with hatred. I'm also in a much happier place so I can see this. I will hold it against her because I've done nothing to her, and I will keep my things to myself because I don't need her contempt making me unhappy. Happiness is a wonderful weapon sometimes.
Jasmine P.
But first! A quick flash back to something I think I wrote back around Easter: [blank] I have no idea where that rant went...I remember writing somewhere about how I had no use for holiday's. I could have sword it was written on/around Easter, but I can't find anything about it. It may have been written in February about the lack there of of press for Black History Month.
I totally forgot my point after reading my first 6 journals here. They were terrible, no description of anything. I was keeping secrets from myself at times, and now, I post waaaay too much information. Cheers!
So, onto holidays. It might just be me, but it seems like the world over, retail over, people don't seem to be taking as much of a vested intereste din selling a holiday anymore. Not so much as when I was a kid. I'm not complaing so much as commentating. It's just that I walk into a Wal-Greens and there's barely anything they're trying to pimp for Mother's Day. What little television I've watched recently there've been very few commercials for this day either. It's almost as if the world doesn't care about holidays too much anymore. Well, some of them. I was in the mall, true, I was only up by the movie theater, but still, not much trying to pimp last minute gifts, which is what any mall is all about. I know times have changed, but...
On love.
This was originally going to be about holiday's and misery, but after I wrote that title, I knew I could write this and it would work out awesomely. Plus, that title wins.
Last night I went out on a date with Paul. I guess it was supposed to be a date, neither of us said that, and I've never been on a date, but I think that's what it all wrapped up to be. We went out and saw the new Star Trek movie, and I've never been a Trek fan, but this movie was pretty entertaining. I'd almost be interested in watching the show. If nothing else, I'll check out some of the other ST flicks, and maybe some of the future ones. I wasn't too into it until Kirk got into space. Too amused by the fact that he got his ass kicked thrice in the movie. Sometimes it's the little things that make me laugh, but it was one gorgeous piece of celluloid. I'll tell you what.
Ahem, the date. He paid for the movie, for the snacks and picked me up for it. We chatted prior to and after the movie. Still awkward saying goodbye, and he said he'd call today, which means tomorrow if I'm lucky, haha. Chances are we'll chat soon enough, and do something else together. Still, it makes me happy to think about him. Also, it's sad that this amuses me as much as it does, but after he commented on how scarcastic I am, I stopped being as scarcastic to him, but last night I had to! For Monsters vs Aliens there are these bins to collect the 3-D glasses after the movie. It says it alll around the box like, twenty times. He has to look inside the box. I had to laugh with him about it. it wasn't mean spirited, but it was funny. The box said that's where the glasses went, but he had to open it. My type of person, looking anyway. I didn't expect it to be full, but I also wasn't compelled to look. It was fun. Truely.
Now onto the misery =D
The following comments, long sentences, if you will, are partially to blame for this rant being ranted here, but c'est la vie :/
-The MB is such a cunt. I woke up and walked around the kitchen, there was a damp dirty sock on the towel where i dry my dishes. Why? Idk!!
-We're also the only people in the apt, and there were plenty of other counter space for her disgusting unsanitary sock. Fucking cunt.
-Why would misery want the company of one they disliked. MB might have to stand for miserable bitch, because she's that, and seems to cont.
-Want to bring me down to her unhappy level too. I've bothered nothing of hers, but she has this compulsion to mess with my possessions. Sad.
Those four tweets , and actually that final one, made her actions make sense to me. She's miserable, and I'm not. So fucking what i took back my own paper towels. Go buy your own. I don't have to share anything of mine with you. I haven't touched a damn thing of hers for personal gain other than moving it out of my way so I could go about my business. Time and time again I've seen my food go missing, an abnormal amount of my cleaning supplies gone and used, and my things moved. It's sad that it took me all year to realize she's just a miserable cunt whose bothered by my happiness. Anytime I'm happy she goes out of her way to make me unhappy. Hell, she usually looks haggered and unhappy when I see her, no matter what she's doing. I know I've walked past her and I looked happy. Not trying to look happy, but I was in a much better mood than she is.
My opinion is she's also a miserable little frig because she left her home the day before Mother's Day, when her mother is alive and I assume well. People with mother's take them for granted. I don't understand why she's not home expressing her love for her mother. I'm going to be out in Wisconsin for Father's Day, I loath my father, but I can be civil enough to call him while I'm there. Maybe I'll draw him a picture. That's not a terrible idea. But back to the Miserable Cunt or Midget Bitch because she's both. I've wasted more time this year dealing with my issues with her but it's only right that I finish it up. She's just in unhappy soul, it's almost as if she doesn't know how to be happy and I think my relaxed or passe or cheerful demeanor frighten her, so she retaliates with hatred. I'm also in a much happier place so I can see this. I will hold it against her because I've done nothing to her, and I will keep my things to myself because I don't need her contempt making me unhappy. Happiness is a wonderful weapon sometimes.
Jasmine P.
March 29, 2009
Rage Against the Idiotic
Just becuase I keep my flatware out on the counter, doesn't grant you leeway to use it. I can't stand half the people who live in this dorm/apartment.
What this is all about is I keep my flatware in a cup on a counter that is between two cabinets that my things stay in. It's about little things, in truth, but it's also about their lack of respect for property that is not theirs. I seriously go out of my way to not use other people's items, but it seems like at various turns, I find my items depleted. I've noticed my flatware sitting in the Midget-bitch's food bowls. What the fuck, she has her own shit, don't use mine. It was my money, hard earned, though not by me, that procured those spoons. Yeah, their cheap, but they do the job, they've been doing the job for me going on two years, well, a year and a half. I'm saying, why take my things. Use your own possessions, you fucker. Some time ago I noticed that my ketchup was disappearing. The fuck? Just because it was on the top shelf of the door, you'd think people would know what they bought. I can't recall ever granting them the right, ever allowing them to use my condiments.
I'm fucking appalled. I make sure I use what's mine and only mine. If i need things I go without until i buy it myself. Why can't these cock-smokers do the same thing? I'm not their gatdamn mother, I don't have to share everything little thing I buy.
I also just realized what happened to all my fucking pine-sol. When the MB drinks, she vomits. Every fucking time, you'd think she'd learn something by now. My revelation is that on at least one occassion she potentially missed the toilet, and got all her friggin' vomit on the floor or some such. Or maybe the toilet just plain stank, but that's not the point. The point is, why the fuck hasn't this cock-smoker hedonistic whore bought any more? Seriously? I'm going to buy my own pine-sol that will stay in my bedroom that I'll use before moving out.
Huh, my biggest dream is getting closer to becoming a reality. Tomorrow I'll make my fated call to the apartment complex I found last week, and I'll figure out if I can even rent, considreing I don't have any real credit, but maybe they're used to people not having credit trying to move in. April looks to be a busy whore. A very busy whore. The next week or two might not be too terrible, but then there's the last two weeks [i think i'm missing a week somewhere...] but finals start on the 28th or something, (what a lovely day...) until then, I get to make my plans for moving out, and with moving out, since i think the place i'm looking at in unfurnished, i get to buy furniture. Joy of joys. I'm not that cynical about it, it's just having to do it. I should be able t outfit my apartment for less than 3k if I'm careful. Most pertinent items are a bed, a couch, a TV table, and a small dining room table. I'll shoot for the bed first, then hopefully everything else i can get from the salvation army or one of the many thrift stores out here. I'll spring the duckets for a brand new bed, that's no big problem. Plus, this bed may have to last me a few years, so I'll get the most out of it.
Well, I've started delving into the world of mattress shopping, and i know this, I'm buying a qeeun sized frame and mattress. Maybe even an adjustable frame, but at least a queen sized matress. I'll take my space. Plenty of nesting space, and rolling around space. It will be awesome to literally be able to climb into bed again. It won't be 1.5ft off the ground anymore.
Ooh, i forgot about lighting. i assume there's at least one overhead/set per room, but I'll need a bedside light, and something for the living room. I like the standing ones that have 4 lights on it that come on in different patterns for low and high lighting. I'll write up a list soon so I can keep track of the immediate needs versus the needs that can wait a week or so.
Last major need is a job. I mean, after I pay off the summer and fall semester's tuition, I'll have a nice bit to start of my summer to pay for food prior to landing a job. I wonder how likely it would be for me to get this apartment without a job, even though I have the assests to pay for it. And I think I'll see about my trust fund, if not for immediate spending, then for the apartment. I'll talk to the guys about that.
Well, I've run the gamut from anger to calm and planning. Let's hope it stays plasse for the rest of the day. I like not being angry. Let's also go get something to eat. I now have excess cereal and milk, and doggonit, will I enjoy me some milk and cereal :) And maybe some doodling. I enjoyed drawing Seph Hunter, and I would like to work on a picture of Az, to color, I'd love to re-do the 'Masculinity' picture. I feel so much better now.
Jasmine P.
What this is all about is I keep my flatware in a cup on a counter that is between two cabinets that my things stay in. It's about little things, in truth, but it's also about their lack of respect for property that is not theirs. I seriously go out of my way to not use other people's items, but it seems like at various turns, I find my items depleted. I've noticed my flatware sitting in the Midget-bitch's food bowls. What the fuck, she has her own shit, don't use mine. It was my money, hard earned, though not by me, that procured those spoons. Yeah, their cheap, but they do the job, they've been doing the job for me going on two years, well, a year and a half. I'm saying, why take my things. Use your own possessions, you fucker. Some time ago I noticed that my ketchup was disappearing. The fuck? Just because it was on the top shelf of the door, you'd think people would know what they bought. I can't recall ever granting them the right, ever allowing them to use my condiments.
I'm fucking appalled. I make sure I use what's mine and only mine. If i need things I go without until i buy it myself. Why can't these cock-smokers do the same thing? I'm not their gatdamn mother, I don't have to share everything little thing I buy.
I also just realized what happened to all my fucking pine-sol. When the MB drinks, she vomits. Every fucking time, you'd think she'd learn something by now. My revelation is that on at least one occassion she potentially missed the toilet, and got all her friggin' vomit on the floor or some such. Or maybe the toilet just plain stank, but that's not the point. The point is, why the fuck hasn't this cock-smoker hedonistic whore bought any more? Seriously? I'm going to buy my own pine-sol that will stay in my bedroom that I'll use before moving out.
Huh, my biggest dream is getting closer to becoming a reality. Tomorrow I'll make my fated call to the apartment complex I found last week, and I'll figure out if I can even rent, considreing I don't have any real credit, but maybe they're used to people not having credit trying to move in. April looks to be a busy whore. A very busy whore. The next week or two might not be too terrible, but then there's the last two weeks [i think i'm missing a week somewhere...] but finals start on the 28th or something, (what a lovely day...) until then, I get to make my plans for moving out, and with moving out, since i think the place i'm looking at in unfurnished, i get to buy furniture. Joy of joys. I'm not that cynical about it, it's just having to do it. I should be able t outfit my apartment for less than 3k if I'm careful. Most pertinent items are a bed, a couch, a TV table, and a small dining room table. I'll shoot for the bed first, then hopefully everything else i can get from the salvation army or one of the many thrift stores out here. I'll spring the duckets for a brand new bed, that's no big problem. Plus, this bed may have to last me a few years, so I'll get the most out of it.
Well, I've started delving into the world of mattress shopping, and i know this, I'm buying a qeeun sized frame and mattress. Maybe even an adjustable frame, but at least a queen sized matress. I'll take my space. Plenty of nesting space, and rolling around space. It will be awesome to literally be able to climb into bed again. It won't be 1.5ft off the ground anymore.
Ooh, i forgot about lighting. i assume there's at least one overhead/set per room, but I'll need a bedside light, and something for the living room. I like the standing ones that have 4 lights on it that come on in different patterns for low and high lighting. I'll write up a list soon so I can keep track of the immediate needs versus the needs that can wait a week or so.
Last major need is a job. I mean, after I pay off the summer and fall semester's tuition, I'll have a nice bit to start of my summer to pay for food prior to landing a job. I wonder how likely it would be for me to get this apartment without a job, even though I have the assests to pay for it. And I think I'll see about my trust fund, if not for immediate spending, then for the apartment. I'll talk to the guys about that.
Well, I've run the gamut from anger to calm and planning. Let's hope it stays plasse for the rest of the day. I like not being angry. Let's also go get something to eat. I now have excess cereal and milk, and doggonit, will I enjoy me some milk and cereal :) And maybe some doodling. I enjoyed drawing Seph Hunter, and I would like to work on a picture of Az, to color, I'd love to re-do the 'Masculinity' picture. I feel so much better now.
Jasmine P.
December 22, 2008
Behind Closed Doors
Last night I saw Milk, starring Sean Penn, Emile Hirch and Josh Brolin. It reminded me of things I knew but it introduced me to many things I hadn't ans it showed the severity of the hatred people have for others.
I know people have issues with homosexuality but I can't understand why? Why do the Christian Fundamentalists believe that they're trying to 'recruit' children to love those of the same sex? Because some men sexually abused children doesn't mean that all men want to. It did say that statically child abusers were heterosexual. I saw somewhere once that abuse is primarially a rift on power, for the man to feel as if he's in control.
But today I've read over Harvey Milk's life, I've read over the 'Save our Children' campaign and at the moment I can't read about John Briggs or his Initiation. It's painful and illogical. That amout of idiocy in the world, why? Why do people hate so much? Why do the they feel the need to shut down people who have done nothing wrong. Yes, I understand homosexualty is a sin, but when did humanity become God? Just because you believe wiht all your heart that it's right, but science or something can prove you're wrong, that doesn't mean you're right.
I truely don't know what I'm trying to say here, but if people are allowed to be discriminated on and they're banned from housing and work, what are they supposed to do with themselves? There's nothing wrong with their cognitive abiities but they can't have a home because they love their own gender. How does that hurt other people? People go to prison because they are a danger to the world around them, but how is homosexuality a danger to the surrounding world? Unless they're knowing transmitting diseases, they're not a danger.
I don't know if I truely want to understand what those type of people think. I don't think I want to understand why because I'm that much happier not knowing. My homosexual friends are fun and amazing to have. People are people before their sexuality. People eat, breath, live and want to pursue whatever their happiness is, so how does who they sleep next to fut into this?
Jasmine P.
I know people have issues with homosexuality but I can't understand why? Why do the Christian Fundamentalists believe that they're trying to 'recruit' children to love those of the same sex? Because some men sexually abused children doesn't mean that all men want to. It did say that statically child abusers were heterosexual. I saw somewhere once that abuse is primarially a rift on power, for the man to feel as if he's in control.
But today I've read over Harvey Milk's life, I've read over the 'Save our Children' campaign and at the moment I can't read about John Briggs or his Initiation. It's painful and illogical. That amout of idiocy in the world, why? Why do people hate so much? Why do the they feel the need to shut down people who have done nothing wrong. Yes, I understand homosexualty is a sin, but when did humanity become God? Just because you believe wiht all your heart that it's right, but science or something can prove you're wrong, that doesn't mean you're right.
I truely don't know what I'm trying to say here, but if people are allowed to be discriminated on and they're banned from housing and work, what are they supposed to do with themselves? There's nothing wrong with their cognitive abiities but they can't have a home because they love their own gender. How does that hurt other people? People go to prison because they are a danger to the world around them, but how is homosexuality a danger to the surrounding world? Unless they're knowing transmitting diseases, they're not a danger.
I don't know if I truely want to understand what those type of people think. I don't think I want to understand why because I'm that much happier not knowing. My homosexual friends are fun and amazing to have. People are people before their sexuality. People eat, breath, live and want to pursue whatever their happiness is, so how does who they sleep next to fut into this?
Jasmine P.
June 25, 2008
Happy Day
Oh, God! I’m in scuh a good mood right now. I got the position I wanted at the USBG and I have my badge and such to get into the Staff areas and such. It’s all sorts of fuck awesome and amazing.
I get home today and watch Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang. Pure gold and black comedy love everywhere! Alex called and we hung out, diner then watched KKBB. Awesome sauce, bitches.
Only area of suck was when I broke my nail. I only care when it hurts. This one ripped from the nail bed, but thankfully no blood. Not as bad as being electrocuted through one’s balls, thankfully I’ll never have the chance to ever have to feel that. Ever. But my thumb hurts a might fine bit from it bending. I swear, my nails only give me trouble when they’re short.
Amusingly enough, Word didn’t know how to spell ‘cunt’…now it does :evil grin:
Adios for now:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
June 20, 2008
Fanart
Why is there so much hero worship for fanart? I swear, almost anytime I post some half assed piece of fan art of anything remotely popular it gets more views than anything else in my gallery in less then 30 minutes and it gets a whole lot of faves. I don't care that muhc about fan art so I rarely draw any, and I purposefully try not to because it gets faves because people like what it's of and not how well it's been drawn. I posted two half assed drawings of Neku from 'The World Ends With You' on my dA account and in less than 5 minutes one of the images had 28 views and 4 faves. Hell, it's a photo taken with my camera and not eve a proper scan. They were doodles because I liked his character design, but what I want to know is why do people love a character so much that anything related to their appearance gets automatic fawning and love. I've seen a lot of Iron Man, from doodles to serious images that I have not favorited just because of who it was. I know not everything needs to be amazing, but why am I told that my half assed doodles are amazing and that something I seirously took time on doesn't get the time of day. Sure, I know I haven't posted a lot of real art work that's been done by me and half of that's because they're sketches and my scanner isn't working so photos of blue lines don't come out all that well. I just wish that things I cared about got more respect and at least a comment than they do. I don't want to rope in watchers and faves just because of fanart because I'm not a fanartist, I'm an originalist and I want my original work to get the respect it deserves. Adios for now :salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
--
short and dirty rant. probably originally posted at dA - Mar 28
Jasmine P.
--
short and dirty rant. probably originally posted at dA - Mar 28
June 6, 2008
Two Halves of Something Broken
Two Halves of a Whole.
Something broken, this is actually at a perspective, so the smaller piece is smaller on purpose. But there is a purpose to this.
My point is, I'm tired of my social situation changing so drastically every time it does. I'm tired of rebounding back and forth from being independent to being dependent on others. I can stand on my own, and I can lean on another's shoulder, but I'm tired of being forced to do one or the other over and over again. Every time I learn to live with myself I'm thrown into a situation where there are others who tolerate and accept me. I'm around people who don't ask anything other than me. They they let me trust them, until we're forced apart, then I'm alone and have forgotten how to deal with anything anymore.
There's nothing wrong with my desire for stability, so why don't I have any? Have I don't something to be punished to not be allowed to have any real consistent presence in my life that I trust and whom trusts me. This person doesn't even need to be a boyfriend, a significant other. They just need to be reliable. I need someone to be reliable when we're together and when we're apart.
Is it weird that when I'm alone I'm both incredibly solitary, not wanting to be anywhere near nor around others, but I'm also quite clingy, wanted to be near certain people? That's why I am the way I am when I can finally be not alone anymore. I'm like a man in the desert who'se come across and oasis. I lavish in the attention I can now get and give. I'm a selfish son of a bitch so my receiving and giving of attention in a weird way involve my sharing my new artwork with people. I like hearing from others that my work is good. That doesn't quite mean much because none of them draw. But that doesn't mean I don't not like hearing it. I love giving attention to others in my own obsessive way. I love giving attention in a physical manner, hugging, touching or in general being around some one else, others. That's how I give attention when I don't always listen properly. I focus, observe watch. That's how I give attention, that's how I give as much as and what I get.
My broken heart is cause by many people. Too many to list here, too many to list for myself. IT's quote sad though that Just about every one I know can be put on that list from one time or another. There is also a reason why I go off on my own when I'm upset. It forces me to think about the situation and it forces me to find a way to fix it. How can I fix something that I didn't break? Something that isn't tangible? Something that is left subject to others to socialize with? What happens is not under my own control, but it's under the control of those around me and it's taken so many 'hits' over the years that everything is an injury on top of a bleeding wound. Nothing is getting better and I don't know how much more I can take before it all collapses. I need something stronger and more consistent that my own strength. One day I'll just cave in on myself under my own weaknesses and I won't be strong enough to get out on my own. Maybe by that day My needed strength will be near and they'll be able to help me out when I won't want to help myself.
I can only pray for that day.
Jasmine P.
June 5, 2008
Island
Damn my hormones, but this is also a truth of sorts. At this moment I am weak. I can't help it, but I stay as strong as I can.
I am an island. I trust no one because they never keep their promises. I've been left on my own so often, I might as well not seek oit others. I might as well as stay on my own and live by my own strength.
That makes me wonder about why I try to rely on others. There is no one here for me but me. There is no one I can trust with anything so why bother? Why should I look to others for help when they don't help me. I shouldn't. I should keep to myself and not bother dealing with anyone else. Other people only forsake and anger me. They don't do as they say and they leave me depressed when I try to fight it.
Is there any reason to fight it, well, aside from the tears. Those are quite annoying. But other than that, is there any reason to not just internalize everything? Probably not. No one will be here forever and few are there when I need them. There's only me.
This needs to be said. Fuck all hormones to high heaven and low hell. I ought to feel better in about two days. I've been feeling so good too, aside from the caffeine and sugar cravings, I've been coping quite well and I've been well in general.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
I am an island. I trust no one because they never keep their promises. I've been left on my own so often, I might as well not seek oit others. I might as well as stay on my own and live by my own strength.
That makes me wonder about why I try to rely on others. There is no one here for me but me. There is no one I can trust with anything so why bother? Why should I look to others for help when they don't help me. I shouldn't. I should keep to myself and not bother dealing with anyone else. Other people only forsake and anger me. They don't do as they say and they leave me depressed when I try to fight it.
Is there any reason to fight it, well, aside from the tears. Those are quite annoying. But other than that, is there any reason to not just internalize everything? Probably not. No one will be here forever and few are there when I need them. There's only me.
This needs to be said. Fuck all hormones to high heaven and low hell. I ought to feel better in about two days. I've been feeling so good too, aside from the caffeine and sugar cravings, I've been coping quite well and I've been well in general.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
May 26, 2008
It's Takes Love to keep This Boat in the Air. If You Love Her She'll Continue to Sail Even When She Should Fall Out of the Sky
'A house is not a home without a family. Families are made of more than blood.'
At the moment, my bloodless Norfolk Family is exactly who I want to be around. I think it's the unending devotion we have for one another and the fact that we don't question each other and accept our motives and personalities. We are who we are and we're all fine with that. I want that sort of acceptance and free love that I'm not getting here. I also want the qualities of love and free acception that I'm missing here. I want all the jokes and the games that just are amongst us. I need somebody who will just listen to me, have no hidden motives and give me advice. I mean, I have people here for that, but there is something more that people from Norfolk have that I crave and need.
I can't fit everything I want or need into sensical words for this, but I do understand what it is that I crave. I crave my Bloodless Family because we are all just so perfect together. Our perversions and psychosis, our morality and honorability, our talents and faults. They're the full unquestioned package that combined make up stronger. Where one is weak, another is strong and together we're a force to be reckoned with.
As to the family aspect of it, I wrote this out more and better last night, but this will have to do. I don't feel attached or wanted by my family half the time and I'm entirely ready to seriously become estranged from my father. He's angered me too many times and things aren't working. I think we need to stop and try again when he's mature enough to meet me on the level that I'm at. My eldest brother and I don't really interact so I have no real issue with leaving. He makes me feel not welcome in my own home. It's OUR house and I look out for me first because I know neither you nor Dorien will. Dorien's not quite so bad, but still, we all have our own agendas my Miguel has issues with me that are long standing. I don't know why he can't stand me, and I'm not one to back down to a challenge. I'll step up and defend myself if nothing else. I'll defend my life and my rights. I'll make my counter offensive and live my life as best I can.
I don't think this went anywhere I wanted it to, but that's fine.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
At the moment, my bloodless Norfolk Family is exactly who I want to be around. I think it's the unending devotion we have for one another and the fact that we don't question each other and accept our motives and personalities. We are who we are and we're all fine with that. I want that sort of acceptance and free love that I'm not getting here. I also want the qualities of love and free acception that I'm missing here. I want all the jokes and the games that just are amongst us. I need somebody who will just listen to me, have no hidden motives and give me advice. I mean, I have people here for that, but there is something more that people from Norfolk have that I crave and need.
I can't fit everything I want or need into sensical words for this, but I do understand what it is that I crave. I crave my Bloodless Family because we are all just so perfect together. Our perversions and psychosis, our morality and honorability, our talents and faults. They're the full unquestioned package that combined make up stronger. Where one is weak, another is strong and together we're a force to be reckoned with.
As to the family aspect of it, I wrote this out more and better last night, but this will have to do. I don't feel attached or wanted by my family half the time and I'm entirely ready to seriously become estranged from my father. He's angered me too many times and things aren't working. I think we need to stop and try again when he's mature enough to meet me on the level that I'm at. My eldest brother and I don't really interact so I have no real issue with leaving. He makes me feel not welcome in my own home. It's OUR house and I look out for me first because I know neither you nor Dorien will. Dorien's not quite so bad, but still, we all have our own agendas my Miguel has issues with me that are long standing. I don't know why he can't stand me, and I'm not one to back down to a challenge. I'll step up and defend myself if nothing else. I'll defend my life and my rights. I'll make my counter offensive and live my life as best I can.
I don't think this went anywhere I wanted it to, but that's fine.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
May 12, 2008
May 12th, I Feel So Alone
I'm so bored and so alone right now. I crave socialization and people. I crave something to do, somewhere to go, and for this damned rain to let up. I need my computer to be working so when I get the desire, the inspiration to write one of these that I actually can, that they work out. I had this great rant earlier about how annoyed I am to be so alone right now and what I want. Well, here's a bit of it.
First and foremost, I want a damed hug! I crave and need physical contact. Last time I had a hug was on Saturday when I ran into CR when I was literally on my way out to leave for home.
Secondly, I want to not be alone, and I need to find something to do outside this house, especially at night. I've always been worse about being on my own at night than any other time. I've got the cabin fever like nobodies business and I need to get away.
Thirdly, I miss everyone and damn near everything about being in Norfolk. I miss the ease of being able to hang out with people, of being able to go somewhere. I miss the jokes and the silliness. Hell, I looked through the last 80 photos on my camera before going to be last night just so I could laugh and reminisce about people I met in just September, for the most part.
I've lost most my rant to distractions, but I'm always thinking about everyone back from ODU. I'm craving a reason, an excuse to leave my house. I desire not so much entertainment, but fellowship, not living to such a solitary degree. My brothers don't cut it. Sure, we all like video games, but I don't care for being around them for extended periods of time. I'll be fine in a week or two, I hope. But I don't always want to be the one reaching out to everyone else. I want someone to reach out to me first so I feel needed and not just needful.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
First and foremost, I want a damed hug! I crave and need physical contact. Last time I had a hug was on Saturday when I ran into CR when I was literally on my way out to leave for home.
Secondly, I want to not be alone, and I need to find something to do outside this house, especially at night. I've always been worse about being on my own at night than any other time. I've got the cabin fever like nobodies business and I need to get away.
Thirdly, I miss everyone and damn near everything about being in Norfolk. I miss the ease of being able to hang out with people, of being able to go somewhere. I miss the jokes and the silliness. Hell, I looked through the last 80 photos on my camera before going to be last night just so I could laugh and reminisce about people I met in just September, for the most part.
I've lost most my rant to distractions, but I'm always thinking about everyone back from ODU. I'm craving a reason, an excuse to leave my house. I desire not so much entertainment, but fellowship, not living to such a solitary degree. My brothers don't cut it. Sure, we all like video games, but I don't care for being around them for extended periods of time. I'll be fine in a week or two, I hope. But I don't always want to be the one reaching out to everyone else. I want someone to reach out to me first so I feel needed and not just needful.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
February 4, 2008
Those Fucking Tacks
So, today when I got whipped into a ranting mood about Cynthia [aka my roommate. I've renamed her because Cynthia, the Barbie on Rugrats was just that ugly] I ended up with the perfect analogy.
So, I've been driving down my road of life. I'm dealing with the traffic of other drivers, the police of classes and responsibility and the weather patterns of drama that can drastically slow down this long winded trip. I'm currently driving a basic sedan, power windows and locks, A/C, Cd player with MP3 capabilities and those little bits of awesome that make like that much more awesome when i hit that one fucking tack that is trying to ruin everything.
Cynthia is that fucking tack. It's a little irritation that happens to have drastic affects on my comfort and ability to get where I'm headed. I mean, I've tried patching the tire repeatedly, and I've been on the lookout for more/other tacks, but periodically one slips under the radar and I hit it and it causes varying degrees of damage to the tires. Every time I hit one of these damn tacks I have to stop where I'm going and see if the tires and hold up for much longer or do I need to change them. New tires cost a lot and recently it seems like these tires are getting more vicious and my tires are getting more worn out. I'm tired of having to deal with the stopping and inspecting the tires getting more and more worried with how they're holding up. Every couple of miles or tens of miles there another tack that tries to ruin everything. I keep on rolling as best I can until something else tries to stop me. I'm just tired of how nit picky these tacks are and how tiring and stressful it is to deal with them all the time.
To gauge other things in life with this analogy my mother's death was like somebody totaling my car and my having to get a new one that looks as good or better than the previous one, but on the inside might not be as structurally sound. I'll get this one replaced again for a newer, nicer model hopefully in a few years.
Going to college was taking a new exit on the currently road that I've been driving for the past 19+ years of my life. it's been a nice route, aside from these damn tacks for the first couple thousand miles. The traffic hasn't been too bad and my car has gotten some nice upgrades, some grace notes and details to make it more kick ass.
Graduation was more of a lane change than and exit ramp, it was the preparation to get off one highway and onto another. Joining fencing club has been like a new paint job and my friend like I said have been bits of awesome like better sound system and comforts and amenities to the car.
Classes have been speed bumps, pot holes and random signs in the way that I have to work at safely navigating so I don't get caught up here on this road. Tips off campus have been kick ass scenery around this road.
Yeah. Life is the road, issues are difficulties to the road, people are distractions from the road and injuries to the car, friends are improvements to the car, experiences are changes in the world around the car. Life is one big road trip and I'm in control of as much of it as I can be.
Yeah,
Adios for now,
:Salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
So, I've been driving down my road of life. I'm dealing with the traffic of other drivers, the police of classes and responsibility and the weather patterns of drama that can drastically slow down this long winded trip. I'm currently driving a basic sedan, power windows and locks, A/C, Cd player with MP3 capabilities and those little bits of awesome that make like that much more awesome when i hit that one fucking tack that is trying to ruin everything.
Cynthia is that fucking tack. It's a little irritation that happens to have drastic affects on my comfort and ability to get where I'm headed. I mean, I've tried patching the tire repeatedly, and I've been on the lookout for more/other tacks, but periodically one slips under the radar and I hit it and it causes varying degrees of damage to the tires. Every time I hit one of these damn tacks I have to stop where I'm going and see if the tires and hold up for much longer or do I need to change them. New tires cost a lot and recently it seems like these tires are getting more vicious and my tires are getting more worn out. I'm tired of having to deal with the stopping and inspecting the tires getting more and more worried with how they're holding up. Every couple of miles or tens of miles there another tack that tries to ruin everything. I keep on rolling as best I can until something else tries to stop me. I'm just tired of how nit picky these tacks are and how tiring and stressful it is to deal with them all the time.
To gauge other things in life with this analogy my mother's death was like somebody totaling my car and my having to get a new one that looks as good or better than the previous one, but on the inside might not be as structurally sound. I'll get this one replaced again for a newer, nicer model hopefully in a few years.
Going to college was taking a new exit on the currently road that I've been driving for the past 19+ years of my life. it's been a nice route, aside from these damn tacks for the first couple thousand miles. The traffic hasn't been too bad and my car has gotten some nice upgrades, some grace notes and details to make it more kick ass.
Graduation was more of a lane change than and exit ramp, it was the preparation to get off one highway and onto another. Joining fencing club has been like a new paint job and my friend like I said have been bits of awesome like better sound system and comforts and amenities to the car.
Classes have been speed bumps, pot holes and random signs in the way that I have to work at safely navigating so I don't get caught up here on this road. Tips off campus have been kick ass scenery around this road.
Yeah. Life is the road, issues are difficulties to the road, people are distractions from the road and injuries to the car, friends are improvements to the car, experiences are changes in the world around the car. Life is one big road trip and I'm in control of as much of it as I can be.
Yeah,
Adios for now,
:Salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
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