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.

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.

Time to sleep…well, not quite, but definitely time to stop typing, using my index finger for things my thumb normally does sucks monkey balls.

That reminds me. Some cunt who can’t park her 4Runner got a nice little note describing just how sucktacular their parking job was from me. I don’t know, I felt compelled to be mean spirited. It felt good. Maybe they’ll learn how to not park so terribly. I doubt it, but it did make me feel better.

Amusingly enough, Word didn’t know how to spell ‘cunt’…now it does :evil grin:

Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.

Gonzo.

I have so many avenues with which to start this. This is more than a movie review, this is gonzo, maybe not after declaring it is, or maybe it is even more so since I declare it so. I, Meister Jazz, retrieved my good acquaintance Senor Kovo from his domicile to accompany me to Silver Spring for a film festival previewing of Gonzo: The Life and Works of Dr. Hunter S. Thompson. I admire what the man was able to accomplish in his life and wish it hadn't had ended, but the world would be a much different place is his mind had continues to punch words to paper in his fashion.

The Dr. was brash, loud, booming, spastic, sincere, blunt, honest. These are qualities that I admire and wish to keep with me in my actions. Dr. Thompson was honest and kind when he needed to be. He didn't live for anything other than the moment and the people he was with. Everything was reality and fiction. Everything was captured on miles, leagues of film and tape. He recorded everything. Proof, reference for what happened in the haze that he lived in.

To the point and set in his ideas. The Dr. lived a life that no one else could handle and if he hadn't then the world would be different. If he had bee a traditional journalist he would not be so well known now. It's not those that follow the rules that history remembers, it's those that demand to be remembered in history by shaking things up, leaving it a mess and leaving it better than they found it. It's those that change the world they live in that are remembered, those that can prove just how mighty they were at their peak and will admit to just how weak they were when they fell.

I've been asked why I take so many photos of my acquaintances, why so many photos of what I do and where I am. It's so I can not only tell a story, but show it. If I don't have the pictures I try to recreate it as accurately as I can. It's all about the ride and being able to bring more people along the next time. I have tickets to share and the people to share them with, not let us all experience it. Love, hate, joy, pain, confusion, clarity, reality fiction. Meister Jazz and Kovo, of Jasmine and Alex. One and the same, yet both are real and both are fake. The proof is in who you talk to.

This is anything but Gonzo, and that's fine because this is mine. Only one person could accurately portray gonzo as it should have been and only one person could have written this. The right people for their occupations.

Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.

What Makes A Home?

To follow up what has been mentioned to a minute degree in this journal I don't feel at home here in Reston anymore. I don't know if it's because my mother is gone, or what but my brothers don't really make me feel welcome in my own house. Technically 1/3 of this house is mine, but I damn near don't want it. I am aggravated here and the past two times I've been home I spent most of my time out driving elsewhere or trying to not be in the house at all. Things keep changing and I seem to have little to no say in it. I seem to not have any say in this house and I rarely talk to my brothers. It's maybe once every two weeks, which is pretty crappy. They don't instigate contact with me either, we've become very disconnected and I seem to be on an island of my own all alone up here. I think I know what I want to do, but I need some time to seriously think about it and to talk to my friends to try to get a little bit of advise before I tell my brothers my plan.

I think I just need to straight up move out of here. They don't like spending 6 hours in a car to get me, and we don't really spend that much time together and they don't really try to figure out that I've been up to or what I do down there. I'm not moving in with my father because that would be hell. He has no say over what I do because I am an independent, dependent on no one but myself, and those who I seek out for advise. I'm not being told what to do or when. I'm not getting a curfew or any of that bullshit, and especially not from him because he's never tried before and he can't tame me. He could tame Patricia Ruth [Hall] Pinales and he sure and fuck won't be able to tame Jasmine Y. Pinales.

My great escape plan is to get an apartment down in the Norfolk area. I can maybe just afford room & board and utilities. I'd need a job first, so I need to get that secure before I go out to rent something. I also need someone to live with and the car. This is not fair that I'm not allowed to have a fucking car! I want my damn Elantra, or you two bastard better fucking trade in that damned Buick and give me the 'new' car! I swear, it's not fair!

I'm too annoyed to sign off with my usual dismissal so I will end on this note:

I'm tired of being alone.

Hmm, Well, that opened up me to review my concept of 'alone'. I think it has most often just be a more emotion type of solitude that I am disagreeing wiht not a physical one. I think that is why phone conversations have been useful because they keep me from having to deal with my emotions alone by talking to someone. I've spoken to two people about the solution to my dilemma and they both think I should go through with this, but I want to get the opinion of a few other people, and I need to check out just what I'll be able to afford if I go through with that.

But to my concept of being alone. There are specific people with whom I feel the most comfortable talking to when I'm stressed or depressed.

Elizabeth because she's very calm and will accept just how far my emotions will rage and try to calm me back down to my usual calm demeanor. It takes a bit to get her seriously riled up which helps when my emotions take violent turns and are flung out of my periodic fragile grasp. She listens and tries, even against my pessimistic tendencies of depression to get me to try things...even if I don't always listen having someone else tell me something I've already thought of cements it into my mind so I know I'll have to act on it at some point of time.

Glenn because he listens and gives intelligent responses when I need that type of thing. It seems to take a fair bit of aggravation to ruffle his feathers which means I can throw the more extreme thoughts and he'll respond in a way that'll make me think and forcing me to slow down and think brings me back to where I need to be. He listens to be vent and even when he doesn't have a good response he'll just listen and try to cheer me up.

C.R. because he listens and once more very sympathetically tries to calm me back down and succeeds a it =D His calm demeanor and silly responses throw me off track which distracts me form what angers me. The pure simplicity of his responses throw me for a loop and that makes me think through what upset me so I can find someway to fix it. He doesn't mind any thought I throw which is useful because I have a tendency to rant and ramble so being able just to talk and have those unpredictable changes to where my thoughts flow is quite useful.

Alex because he just listens and calmly responds. He responds to my more extravagant ponders in ways that amuse me. He is able to calmly look at the cards I lay before him and organize the important ones and help me to get rid of the ones that need to be gotten rid of. He's trust worthy...except for answering his phone kind of...and calling back. He fails at that, but other than that, I trust him with damn near any thought in my head. Hell, he even listened to me explain one of my more ..interesting story ideas...one that I want to seriously go back to at some point

There you have it, the people who work best at helping me get back to where I need to be to not lose my mind in the extremes of anything. Well, not so much 'anything' just the things they each hear. Everyone is important to me, but this people more so, in a way...Just trust me when I say that without them I wouldn't be the person I am because I've needed many hands to get out that the vicious valleys that make up my depression. Those slopes are easy to not notice as I slide down them, but they're a bitch to climb back up without a few helping hands. These hands are just the ones that helped the most.

I'm noticing a pattern with the people I trust the most. They're calm and they are all excellent at bringing me back to where I need to be psychologically.

Well, that was two journals all in one post...I feel better and the usual conclusion remains I guess. More to come later.

Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.