Crossroads: Built to Help, Only Impede

I was originally going to do a write up of the past week I spent in Wisconsin, but this seemed to be a bit more pertinent. I still want to write up about the week before I forget. That's why Twitter's nice, I wrote some stuff up there most days, so I can review it and remind myself what I did and what to write about. But for now, less about last week and more about me.

I've in a funk, again. I don't know what to do to break it. I've spent the past few days since returning to Norfolk watching Wonderfalls and Pushing Daisies, which I guess I can include in my review blog. But not right now. I'm at that annoying impasse where I don't know what I want to do. Not with my education and not with tomorrow. I can't draw, so write I must.

I've recently fallen in love with writing things by hand. I hand wrote a note to a woman from New York, more to be expounded upon in the SWS/Wisconsin journal. But I kind of want to write more people letters. One to Scott, another to Ralph...that's it. Yeah, so two letters. There's the personal touch of recieving mail, and writing them. They take time, and even once the idea is written, there's writing a presentable form of the letter.

Well, let's start somewhere. Is It Okay If I Call You Mine? written and sung by Paul McCrane. Ironic time to play this song. This is kind of how I feel about Paul, but also at the moment, men in general. Kind of. I mean, first there is my interest in someone who hasn't called me back. I fear his phone is lost or something. Then there's Phillip, who's interest in my was professed by two other people in drunken stupor. I doubt they remember telling me this, but a large part of me doesn't want to inquire about it, but if someone cares, why not try for something. Then there's Beau, and that one I assume is all in my head. He's a cutie, and I could have sworn just last week when I friended him on facebook he was in a relationship with someone, but that's beside the point. Interest in him came from his drunken excitement in seeing me. Yeah, prefixed by drunken, so who knows. I have also decided that the actors Lee Pace and Tyrone Lietso. Bt incrredible cute and adorable. I see Paul is Pace's performace from PD, which makes me think he's still quite in the running for my heart for things more serous, but at the same time, I haven't seen the man/boy in a month! A month! He hasn't answered his phone or anything. I'm sitting in the middle of a road of attention, attraction and affection [alliterative a...] and not a peep. I tied calling about thirty minutes ago. Maybe he'll call. I hope so. Hell, I want the simplicity of a kiss. I want and crave contact. So many people, so close and yet oh so terribly far.

Like aways, I know what I want, but differently, I have potential venues, but won't go for any of them. I was fine, when I almost had someone, now? Ha! I'm back to just plain needing someone. I need something to guide my attention, to help motivate me. For whatever reason I've actually made the Fourth of July into something important and want someone to spend the night with. I normally couldn't give a rat's ass for the damn day, but apparently in my vulnerable state I want someone. Last week I was distracted, as with the week before, but now, it's me and only me.

This is an island that sucks. Maybe someone will actually call. The Ficus might, but that's not as pressing to me as pretty much anyone else calling. I want attention. I want to be loved. I want to be romantically loved. Hell, I know plenty of people on this stupid orb love me, platonically, but I want a romantic relationship. Pining, I'm pining away for most anything.

Aside from my heart, I was feeling a change of pace for a short period f time and going back to science for a degree, but now I'm feeling art again. I'm also feeling not earning a degree and just striking out on my own. Dorien and Miguel keep saying how hard it is, but they haven't done that. They both almost got away, then went crawling back home. I'm not doing that. Love or not, I'm getting out of this crummy state. I'm getting away where all the disturbed girls are. My papa never put his ping-ping in my po-po, but there is something rotten in the Denver of Virginia. And the Denmark too.

Apparenlty, I've stopping caring about who might stumble upon this piece of privacy, and that's well enough. It's here for someone to read, and not just for me to write. I dunno, maybe I'll escape the easiest way I know how, into the tombs of a new book. Well, new, old, re-read, or something I left to be enjoyed at a later date. I dunno, maybe I'm a little inspired from eading the writings of Jonathan Ames who had his writings published, and they were of a varying private nature, personal if nothing else. Maybe it's better to toss life out to the void of it's reality and see who stops and inspects. Maybe something good will come out of it. With my luck, nothing will, but that's also just as well. I always want someone to read these, but at the same time, I seriously want no one to read them.

Jasmine P.

Self-loathing

Its been a long time since I outright hated myself or how I acted. Today was one of those days, one of those times. While I was out Elizabeth called to tell me she was too afraid to move off campus. I have made my resolution that I'm not living on campus anymore. I want to move on, but I was hoping to live with her. My motivation is I want to live with my own rules and not with people I disliked. I'm tired of having to share my living space with people I barely know and don't like, so I guess it works out. I mean, I've know for a long time that the only person I can truly rely on is myself, so I guess it's down to me a wee bit sooner than I thought, but it's what I want. I was a little annoyed and stress. I was annoyed because Elizabeth is so afraid of moving on. I'm trying to break my tethers, I'm fighting to be independent. I'm trying to grow up and she's too afraid of the outside world to be able to make the jump.

I'm a resolute person, I want to as close to the final say in my life as possible. She's not ready for that type of responsibility, I'm ready to try, to prove to the world that I'm an adult in my own right, or to try for it. She can't do that, I was upset that my friend whom I thought could make the trip into proving to the world that she was an adult too was unable to do it. I showed I was upset the way I always have. I cried. I sat in a chair in the middle of a Uni of Mary&Wash gym crying, I tried to sink into music, but I had friends to distract me which was both good and bad. I waxed on it a bit and explained how I was feeling, slightly betrayed, but how I need to move on. Living on campus is holding me back and I need more in my life that I'm in control of, so it's time for me to move on.

So, not too long after I've barely picked up the pieces of me and put myself back together and was almost back to being the strong Jasmine that I show the world I was broken by something as stupid as mushrooms being on my burger at Cheeburger Cheeburger. Nothing tastes as good when you're upset, and I was still upset for another ten minutes. I hated myself. Seriously. To a degree, I hated myself. I hate it when I cry and when I can't get back into control of myself.

Eventually when we were just about done I had calmed myself down, then I spent about ten minutes alone in the Barnes and Noble. I felt much better, then I had to apologize to Ian and AJ because I didn't like how I had acted, but I never like it when I cry especially not when I don't have the chance to sit on my own and get my mind straight. Now, a few hours past, and having written it out and apologized to everyone, except Tristan mostly because I don't know him on facebook, I'm feeling better. I'm back in control of my emotions and I think I can handle things now.

I can nw find a place of my own and be happy. A nice one person apartment, not in some fucking house, but a real apartment, and I'll make my own rules and I'll be happy. Things will be better for me, because I declared it how. Fucking seriously.

Jasmine P.

The Notion of 'Bad' Movies

I don't think that there are any really 'bad' movies. First and foremost a movie is meant to entertain and most do. Even boring movies have their merit, they an be excellent for getting people to go to sleep. I'm tired of seeing people harshly criticize every last detail in movies thinking that every movie needs to be the next Citizen Kane [which I've heard is boring as all hell, even if it's one of the greatest movies of all time].

I just saw Shoot 'Em Up and the perfect comment's title is 'gun porn' because that's all the movie was. It glorified guns and violence in a very cartoony fashion. It was Kill Bill: 1 with guns, seriously. People gave the movie harsh criticism because there was naught much other than shooting going on in the move. But look at the fucking title. It says what's going to happen right there, fucking shooting! I resented the fact that the author of the excellently titled critique said his friend's review was to be 'expected' because the friend was female. I quite enjoyed the movie, but wasn't looking for anything other than a violence fest.

But to where I started, I've spent my summer watching a lot of movies and I've found something to like in each of them. I've either liked and actor, their performance, the story, the cleverness of the script or other. I don't understand why people can be so closed minded about movies. Before this summer I wouldn't have called myself a movie fanatic, but after watching 50+ movies over the summer [hell, I've got one on atm for BG noise] But what I'm saying is, there's something good in every movie something to like so why are people so harsh. You can tell when you look at the movie when walking up to see it the type of movie it's going to be. If you're not going to like it, why see it?

Not every movie out there is supposed to have a message. Not every movie is supposed to have a life lesson. Movies still have the merit to be pure entertainment and that's what Shoot 'Em Up was meant to be. Why can't people go to a movie and just enjoy the wild ride they're sent on, I mean really. Even movies that are poorly made have the merit of being camp and kitch. They're fun because of how bad they are. I like most every movie I've seen and never really call things bad. But I'm also artistic, so I guess I feel bad in calling someone's artistic attempt to be inherently 'bad'.

Hmm, well, my point is not every movie is supposed to hit the same point. Some are pure entertainment and love stories to some random item. It's like a romance story, no real sustenance, and you can usually predict what's going to happen, who's going to get together, but they're still entertaining...sometimes, in what happens to force the couple apart. Some movies have a moral to the story, and others have subtle messages. People need to learn to rate movies on their own personal merits and not just the genre's they fit in. I guess that's what the cult following is for, but people who understand what was being accomplished. I can't expect the many to accept the amazing of the few.

I've kind of lost my point, but that's not new in these.

Jasmine P.

Guides, Saints and Friends

July 3^rd, 2008 -10.15 pm – 10.50pm

I just finished watching ‘A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints’ I’ll call it ‘Guide’. Spoilers, be wary

I have many things to say, so many thoughts running rampant through my head. No rhyme or reason. My response to the movie, to life at the moment, to where I am in what I’m doing with my life.

I haven’t cried when watching a movie since I saw ‘Finding Neverland’ last summer when I realized that the mother died. Before that, I don’t know. I cried today when Mike, Mik, died. I loved him. His accent, his personality, the fact that he was a clean, upright personality in the hello that Dito had to live with. Mik was something positive. Mike was something kind and new. Mik wanted to stop the violence and get Dito out. They had to get away rom the insanity before things got to deep, but before they could. Before they could get out of New York Mik was shot down. He died a senseless death. His death, the only good thing Dito had in his life was gone. Mik was a future, a positive future. That had to have been hard to write and harder to film.

Loss. Loss of what’s good in one’s life is quite devastating. I think about my loss. The magnum opus of loss in my short 19.5 years of life, 19.6, I don’t know, don’t care. Last year everything changed. I changed in an instant. I say I have no regrets. That used to be true. My one regret from everything I done is how I interacted with my mother. If I could go back, knowing what I know, I’d try to lie less. I’m a terrible liar anyway, I don’t know why people believe me. I mean, I can be brutally honest, tactfully honest unless I’m going to get hurt, then It’s everyman for himself and I lie terribly.

My regret is that she’s dead. She’ll never get to see me as an adult. She won’t be able to see me as what I’ll become. She only knew me as the fuck up I was, the fuck up I am. I keep saying I’m brilliant, but if I’m so smart, why don’t I pass my classes? If I’m so smart, why don’t I go after what I know will help everything. I regret that she won’t be able to see me in 15 years, she won’t be able to see my great ‘return’ afte I’ve made something of myself.

In Guide, Dito left New York after Mik died and didn’t return for 15-20 years. In California Dito made himself into something better that what he had at home. I left everything to save himself. They never left him. His friends, with all their faults and issues, they were his saints. The point of the movie. But what’s important about this is that when he came back, his father was able to se how he grew up. His father and mother saw how he grew and changed. My mom will never be able to see this. For a normal person, they’d turn their attentions to their other parent, but I don’t care about my father. I’ll mourn whenever he dies, but where I am right now, I don’t care about him.

It’s cold. It’s the truth. He’s one of the few, one of the many who doesn’t know this. I don’t care. He doesn’t care about me, why should I care about him? I can’t change because he’ll never live up to even the most minimalistic expectations. All I want, all I want ot expect is to be truly cared about. That’s what I want. That’s something I’ll never have every again. Well, not for a while. I know my first boyfriend will care, but it’s won’t be the same. I want my mother. She’ll never see how strong I’ve become. She was the most important person in my life for 18.5 years and she still is. Her memory, everything. I miss her, I need to settle things. So much is buried. I need someone with the shovel to dig it out. I need someone to get in here with me and help me back out. Not a shrink, something more visceral, a true connection to fix everything.

On the flip side of my mom not seeing what I’ll become is that fact that everything changed last year. If she were still alive I’d be a very different person. I’d grow to be some sort of adult that wouldn’t be what I’ll turn into. I pray that what I end up as though, is something she’d be proud of. Be it a botanist, or be it a comic artist.

~~~

Today started out as a good day. I was up at 7.17, too used to working for going to the USBG, but that’s alright. I woke, read, fucked around on the internet. Whatever. Went to the store then hung out with Alex for a while. Good times, most of which were caught on tape.

I truly don’t know if there’s anyone I trust more on this earth. The most trustworthy, the best friend ever. More than a friend. I said this before, I wouldn’t be the same without him. I can’t think of not knowing him anymore. Ridiculous for someone I met only 2.5 years ago. First day of junior year, a blonde head sitting a few rows back in 11^th grade English. Beauchmin’s class, then a blond head witting in the back of Warstler’s history class. That’s when it all really began, in History of the Americas, IB History 1.

I think about the people I know at school. The two most important, Glenn and Elizabeth. I regret my mom not knowing what I’ll end up as a result of my knowing these people. All my regrets are her not seeing what I’ll become in the future. I have plans, I have dreams and I have a path to follow and I don’t know where it leads, but I –

I think about the video Alex and I made today, mostly playing with the camera more than anything serious. Some great things were said, some great things happened. Things you have to be there for. I think about the future and looking back at out stupid actions. I think about the fact that a year ago I wouldn’t have done half of what I did in that video, half of what I do on a normal daily basis right now. Random touches, random hugs, relying on someone else. ‘My life revolves around Alex’ he said what amounted to that. Scarily enough, that has a shred of seriousness even if said in jest.

God grant me the strength to accept the things I can’t change. –RDJ ‘Broken’

I trust other people on the spot, but this is more than trust. A sort of reliance. But, there is the fact that nothing more is possible for the two of us. A sexual relationship wouldn’t solve anything, it wouldn’t’ break anything, but it wouldn’t solve anything.

A year ago I would not randomly hug people. A year ago I would not let my self get to close. I’m more vulnerable in some ways, more closed off in others. I have things that need to be taken care of, things that will be taken care of.

It’s been a while, I can’t quite remember everything that sparked this, but there is more. Somewhere.

Guide was interesting. It spoke volumes. Dramas always make me internalize, they make me look at what I’m doing. They make me question life and what I’ve done, what I will do.

There’s more to this, to be written some other time. I’ve lost it. It won’t be back for a while. Maybe I’ll be less morose then, or maybe I need to be morose for it to feel real.

Jasmine P.