Dream: Rage Fever

Everything between the dashes is in edited English, mostly edited for spelling. A little bit edited for grammar, as you can see. And I am hella amused that I typed 'alarm cock' not once, but twice. I don't know why I was repetitive about The Guy's place, it just happened.


i keep waing up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they stared, it happened a the time. clickwork. I'd be fine all day, bt nigt would roll around and fits of rage and fever would hapen. I'd have chills, 'd start blacking out ad the only thing that would calm me from being hugged, one of those awesome ugs from behind. It was weird. I'd be weak unable t stand up, unable to move. Things would get broke, in a fit of rage.

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I keep wakin up with fits of feverish blind rage. I don't know how they started, it happened all the time. Clockwork. I'd be fine all ay, but night would roll aroung and fits of rage and fever would happen. I'd have chills, I'd start blacking out and the only thing that would calm me was being hugged, one of those awesome hugs from behin. It was weird. I'd be weak, unable to stand up, unable to move. Things would get broken, in a fit of rage.
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Before my alarm cock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to get me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there befoire in warlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started lazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.

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Before my alarm clock rang, I was at some guy's place, tall dude, he was too nice to me. It was day now, after a fit of rage. My father was there to be me, but from the looks of it I'd gone over there before in earlier rage things. I had ceramics pieces that needed to be glazed, and The Guy was awesome and started glazing them for me, so I'd have them for my final.
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There was a weird bit from a backetall game I went to for whatever reason where some dude, a frend, kept trying ot run around naked. It was like he was having a Blind Fit of Eros, he tried having sex with his girlfriend and I saw his penis, it was werd, tiny and shrivvled. Tere wee a lot f penises shown at the game, they were all tiny and shrivvled Burnt looking.
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There was a weird bit from a basketball game I went to, for whatever reason, there some dude, a friend, kept trying to run around naked. It was like he was having a Blid Fit of Eros, he had tried having sex with his girlfried and I saw his penic. It was weird, tiny, and shriveled. There were a lot of penises shown at the game. They were all tiny and shriveled. Burnt looking.

An army/navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaving onto the pet covered plexilass then...no, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was lleaning when a commanding occifer gave me the hirdest slap on te ass. Wild man. I somehow tried to get up and fell on the groun I was buy a friend, Clint, - from Borjo - and I mumbled if I had a fever call an ambulance. My teperature was 112, low fo a rage fit, but thy called anyway, I was losing control. I remmeber stumling around my apartment, kinda of, and friends drifted in and out of my awareness and got things togther for me.
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An Army/Navy cpatain or high ranking official was standing in front of me at one point, leaning onto the net covered plexiglass...then not, it was a teacher-coach from my school who was leaning- when a commanding officer gave him te hardest slap on the ass. Wild man. I somehow tied to get up and fell on the ground, I was by a friend, Clint, - from Borjo- and I mumbled I had a fever, call and ambulace. My temperature was 112F, low for a Rage Fit, but they called anyway, I was losing control. I remember stumbling around my apartment, kind of, and friend drifted in and out of my awareness and got things together for me.
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Next, I was at The Guy's house trying to udertad, but I idn't. My father showed up and tried to ask me if I was jut internallizing all my anger and I should exprss it, I said I did internallize, e tried to itnerript me, bt i interrupted im and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Gy was now glazing some random ceamic piece I had made, and my alarm cock woke me p.

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Next I was at The Guy's house trying to understand, but I didn't. My father showed up and tries to ask me if I was just internalizing my anger and I should express it. I said I did internalize, he tried to interrupt me, but I interrupted him and tried to explain things that made me angry. The Guy was not glazing some random ceramic piece I had mad and my alarm clock woke me up.
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I jst typed this up comppletely bleary eue, which I'm saying accounts for som of te typos, I'm tred from getting like, 1hour of sleep, I laid down at 4.35, I rembmer seeing 4.45a and then I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.

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I just typed this up, completely bleary eyed, which I'm saying account for some (all) of the typos. I'm tired from getting like, 1 hour of sleep. I laid down at 4:35, I remember seeing 4:45am and them I guess I fell asleep and right into a fit of rage.
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i feel as if Alex )theory101) was there somewhere, bt I don't remembe anything much lse than what I typed.

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I feel as if Alex (theory101) was there somewhere, but I don't remember anything much else than what I typed.

Jasmine P.

i

a car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, they were 4 old chinese men in motrozed wheel cairs. The little little driver offere, bt Clint-friend spoke wo me and kept me calm then I was at The Gy's hous, calmer. Mayb I'd rallen asleep. I don't know, but what' what I kinda remember, i think. There may be more, but I dunno.

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I (?)

A car was supposed to take me to The Guy's place, but it was weird, all full of old people. Well, there were 4 old Chinese men in motorized wheelchairs. The little little driver offered, but Clint-friend spoke to(?) me and kept me calm, then I was at The Guy' house, calmer. Maybe I'd fallen asleep. I don't know, but what I kinda remember, I think. There may be more, but I dunno.
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I remember my apartment being weird. There was a tiered pink jacuzzi bath tub, and everything was get red. It was like being in a lowly lit club and not my apartment. That probably explains when there were random people there. It still doesn't make much sense.

Early Morning Musings

I've been spending some time over the past few days reading things off the site 'Stand for Christmas' http://www.standforchristmas.com/ and mostly been laughing at these ultra conservative Christians. In part it's from ignorance and non acceptance of other holidays that happen to take place in the winter. If you look at the ratings list for Best Buy people were all pissy and up in arms because the site and circular promoted the Muslim holiday, of Eid al-Adha, which as my meager research on wikipedia told me is a day about prayer and giving from one's flock to the poor. Seriously, that and Best But says nothing specific about Christmas.

I see these people up in arms angry that Christmas isn't getting the 'respect' they think it deserves. I say one comment for Old Navy that said, and I quote "I logged in to this sight to leave a positive feedback for Old Navy because in my local store I noticed the Merry Christmas tees and also gift cards with Merry Christmas on them---a big step up from past years, but I was unaware of the add including Christmas with Kwanza/soltice (the ice skating one is fine with me;goofy, but fine).” So sad that they took one step forward and two giant leaps back." How is being aware of a not-holiday, Kwanzaa in my opinion, and solstice taking two steps back. These people seems to forget that there are many religions in the world that have some sort of festivity in the winter. I know there are plenty of people who believe that Christianity, or factions of, are the 'only religion' it just seems implausible that everyone who decided to write on that site feels that way.

I think saying 'holiday' is fine because there are so many celebrations, religiously based or not. Using the non-reputable source that is Wikipedia, once more, let's see just the sheer number of holidays, festivals, remembrances, or celebrations there are LISTED for the 31 days that make up December. 38 different events around the world, that's not counting the smaller events that take place during the month. It's not just Christmas, there's also Chanukkah which I think is the second largest religious celebration in the month. On December 25th there are also these events:

# Re) birth of Sol Invictus. The winter solstice feast in the Roman Empire from 274 to 391

# Quaid-e-Azam's Day – Pakistan

# Constitution Day – Republic of China now based in Taiwan

# The feast day of Anastasia of Sirmium

# Yule

# Malkh-Festival. Sun festival in pre-Islamic pagan religion of Nakh people. Chechenya and Ingushetia

True, not all of them are celebrated anymore and are known more out of historic necessity, but they're still there. I'm sure there are plenty more. I don't get the fuss that people use 'holiday' over 'Christmas' when so much else goes on. Any why get so hard up for one day? It's about family? So is Thanksgiving. It's about giving? If you truly want to give to other people, give when you don't feel obligated. These people are making it about the material, if they want to really make it about a part of the true aspect of the day, Jesus and giving, they would go out into their communities and help those who are less fortunate instead of opening hundreds or thousands and thousands of dollars worth of things that they'll forget the next day.

With my tirade I'm not saying I don't like getting things, but I remember and like the gifts that I made for people a lot more than any of the stuff I've bought. Back in 2006 I made ornaments for my family and friends. I love those. In 2004 or 2005 I drew my brother a dragon, framed it and he still has it. I'm proud of those gifts. Last year I thought carefully about what people would appreciate, but I don't appreciate the gifts as much, I have to think hard to remember what I gave them. But I remember what I made, that had love, time and compassion not just money. Scupley costs money, and a lot of time, but those gifts were awesome.

The other part of my musings is on the concept of being politically correct. Thinking that it's more pc to be called 'African-American' is wrong for -me- because I'm not African. I'm 1/2 Dominican and 1/2 American. I only have American citizenship, and I don't know how many generations far back are off a boat from any part of Africa. I call myself 'black' or even just 'American' because that's what I am. I don't care so much about that aspect of American history. I respect it for what happened and all that shit, but I have more important things to be looking for in my future. That's what my status from the other day was about, someone on deviantart was talking about how with some Scandanavian comics she draws and posts people comment about where their family's from. I don't really care about my ancestors. It's not to be disrespectful, but that's not -me- so much. I don't want to go to Africa and see what it was like for them there, I don't really want to go to the Dominican Republic, I don't speak the language. I more often just think of myself as American because I don't speak Spanish. I was raised by my mother's side of the family and more often than not think about things they do than things my dad's side of the family does. I don't not love them, I just don't know them. It's different.

About being politically correct for the holidays, I don't see it about being disrespectful, it's about respect for more people. People seem to have a problem with respect. What if I worked retail and wished ' Happy Chanukkah' or even forwent December and started with 'Happy New Year'? That's non-denominational, just different countries or religions, follow different calendars, its offensive to calendars?

I go for politically correct terms because I don't like to be insulted. Once I know what will and won't mess with a person, I'll use it. I say 'I'm fat' not 'overweight' because it's fat, my body has an excess of it. If you have an excess of weight, it's not always fat, it could be water or muscle. I have an excess of fat, and I don't always have a problem with it. Buying clothing is when I have a problem with it. I say all sorts of ridiculous things; I know I say things than can be misconstrued as being disrespectful, but it's not out of disrespect. Sometimes it's due out of ignorance, which is different than going out and being rude. I think a large part about being politically correct is who you're interacting with. Some people mind and others don't. Listen to how I talk, I say ridiculous things EVERY DAY, sometimes on purpose, sometimes it just is what it is.

I know I’m politically correct when I speak. I do it for me because it feels right. I use more or less the same language in front of someone or behind their back, profanity aside. If I don’t know I’ll ask, and I’ll apologize if I think I said something wrong. The other day I was at a hookah bar when it was closing. I was curious what language some of the other patrons were using, so I asked. I had assumed it was Arabic, it was when I asked,. I had the chance to ask a question, so I did. I will. I have asked Muslim women one my few occasions, questions about their head wraps. I was curious about them, I know very little about those practices. I had an Indian friend in high school and I think she sometimes had the red dot on her forehead. I think I asked her what it was about, but have since forgotten. I’m curious and try not to be rude, I’ll admit I don’t know because I think it lets whomever I’m speaking to know that I’m honestly curious.

You know what, I’m not sure where exactly I wanted to go with my thoughts on being politically correct aside from questioning them. I don’t understand why people seem to have an issue about not offending other people. I want respect and to get it I have to give it equally. I understand terms change and I’m not always in the venue to learn when or why they changed. Za told me she learned that the new PC term for ‘Native Americans’ is ‘First Americans’. I really don’t see what’s wrong with ‘Native American’ but there’s a new term. I know I use ‘Indian’ more often, and I don’t know if I’ll ever use or need to use ‘First American’ but it’s a new term. Now I want to know why they changed it, what was wrong with calling them ‘Native’? Where would ‘aborigine’ fit in? It’s time I get back to the work I put off to write this, but I kept thinking about it. Now to work for a bit, sleep, then work some more. Joy. Good day, everyone!

Jasmine P.

A Good Day

Today, over all has been a good day.

It's two years to the day...well, by the time this is posted, two years to yesterday that my mother died from organ failure after her body succumbed to pneumonia and cancer. I thought I'd be more upset about it, but I wasn't I took a moment not too long after noon to think about her, then I went back to the rest of my day, thinking my mother would rather have me happy then to dwell on her death. I spent my afternoon straightening up my room because Paul was going to see it. Paul is the guy referenced in the other two journals. I think I can use his name now.

Anywho, today I woke up and chilled. Took care of a few things, and was late to geology because I magically could not get to that class on time this semester. At least I was there, unlike last semester where I skipped. Hell, I skipped it a lot this semester too, but I was there for the last day of class. I went to class and then left so I could hit up the mall to buy AJ a graduation gift.

I got him a $50 gift card to Barnes & Noble then came back to campus. I hung out with Elizabeth for about an hour before I made it back to my own apartment to chill before hanging out with Paul. I made up the certificates then went to meet Paul outside. He was sweet enough to text me saying he'd be late. I assume traffic was a player in that. Then he called, I guess, saying he was there. We walked around for about 40 min, just chatting and walking around campus.

We roll over to IHOP and I tell him about my brothers and father a bit. He tells me a bit about his family. We're the first to arrive at IHOP closely followed by Jay and Allison, then Nick, Casy and Sean. We get a table then others join us. Nicole and Andrew, a friend of Seans. Glenn, A friend of Drew's then Ian and AJ. Dan shows up about an hour later. It's a usualy night at IHOP. Lot's of chatting and lots of fun and perversion.

Our waiter is awesome and splits the bill, two meals per bill seeing as Tuesday's are buy one, get one free. Paul pays for his, but my meal is on his ticket. The group makes plans to go over ot Jay and Allison's and as we're leaving IHOP Paul and I end up chatting with Drew and Nicole about Drew's broken window. This Saturday, someone broke into his car to steal his radio. He wasn't able to get the window fixed today.

We're out there chatting about cars for a while when this homeless man comes up to us and takes twenty minutes to get to his point of asking us for money. We give him maybe three dollars in change, he then keeps talking to us. It was a little awkward.

Paul drives me back to campus and we chat about nothing really. He gives me a hug before I get out the car, and both of us are apparently bad at farewells, because we said good bye a few times, and I wished him luck at his job interview for tomorrow. It was all pretty damn disconnected, but he did say he'd call to tell me how the interview went. And we agreed to make plans to hang out together again, so I think the next time will be more of a date. Yeah. It was nice. Man, I still feel special, and I think really dating him would be nice.

Even though it's been two years since my mother died, today wasn't a bad day. Better than last year, whatever I did. I'm glad I'm not as depressed as I was last year around this time.

Jasmine P.

Talent

I'm rubbing my back here for this, but my writing has time after time amazing and surprised me with just how well written things may be, or just how I say things.

The first time I noticed this was when I was proving some point for another and referenced my Flintstone Syndrome journal that I wrote last June or July. I was seriously stopped in my tracks when I read it. The writing surprised me because it was written at a level different from where I was. I mean, I know I'm a good writer, but I never re-read my work aside from a quick skim for major typos or grammatical brouhaha, but I never notice anything like this. I actually had to finish the journal just because I liked what I'd written so much.

I've been thinking about this for about a week off and on, and today I had another of those moments. It was one of those memes that's like '15 things about you' and i said "Death is the ultimate spoiler. Tell me how I'll die and I'll tell you how I'll live"

That just seemed like a poignant message. It was something written in the blink of an eye before, but now, it seems to have that much more weight to it. I don't know how, but I think it's an interesting display of my strength that I don't always feel. Seeing it so blatantly in front of my eyes, it's no wonder that I scare people. Now I seriously need to find someone who can compete with that strength. Match it as a perfect foil, keep it in check.

I dunno. I'm a mite distracted, and I got most of my point here. But this brings up another point of my journals. Some of them are incredibly unfullfilling because I end them when I lose focus. It's like running into a brick wall. But I also know that when I can't focus on them properly, the over all tone changes and then they become both a drag to read and a drag to write.

Anywho, I'll be back here...some other time. I finally have things to write, like about yesterday's tournament, but not now. I should start my paper before the night is over.

Jasmine P.

Saturday

So, yesterday Za and I left campus so I could get my car inspected at this place that Glenn suggested and that's how we decided on an excuse for an adventure and lunch, then during lunch we decided to make this a monthly thing. But let's travel to yesterday morning.

She comes over and I make us breakfast because...I wanted bacon and I figured I could get rid of those last few eggs I had since they were really just going to sit there until I had another chance to cook them for someone else. Seriously. So we watch Psych then roll out onto Portsmouth and realize that the shop is closed on Saturdays. When backing out of the parking lot, I break my bumper by hitting a piece of scrap metal but it looks like the only thing that needs to be replaced is the bumper which makes things that much better, even thought they really aren't. So we're both a bit shaken up, Za more then myself, and we decide to explore down 64. We drive out to Pembroke Town Center then decide to more or less never go out there because it's too expensive to buy anything.

We're both hungry...again...and we're both jonesing for salad and decide to hit up the Unos on Military, so we get there and after driving through the parking lot a bit to actually get to the restaurant we have the best experience there, overall. Two dirty spoons were not enough to mar our day. We chat about our usual bull and wabout what had happened that day so far. But the experience at the restaurant has more or less made me forget about the bumper, thant and I think my escapist habits of not thinking about things that are bad so I can regain control of a situation and myself.

The experience is so nice because the restaurant is on the empty, it's between the lunch and dinner rush so it would be. I assume out waitress had just starter her shift so she's in moderately high spirits and we're polite, we've no reason not to be. But the thing is everyone's nice. A manager opens the door for us then when we're on our way out every employee tells us to have a good evening and another waiter holds the door open on our way out. We were floored, this was seriously my best experience at an Unos, and I've been to a few, though they were usually the same restaurant over and over again.

On the way back, still riding the good vibes we decide to go to the Naro rental and pick up Ghostbusters 1&2. On the way I start singing, partially to Za, mostly because it's fun. Driving down Hampton I'm making parodies of what we're listening to, and Za's amusement only encouraged me. One of them was to Junior Senior's Move Your Feet because I was in no mood to sit in traffic. So I was talking about wanting to speed, but it was silly, and she kept laughing so I made up one about Paula Deen killing everyone with butter.

Back in the apartment we watch Ghostbusters before CR calls inviting us over to watch The Sword in the Stone and Teeth. Teeth is fucking amazing, it's about this pure virginal girl who was born with vagina dentata, teeth in her vagina. But the problem is I'm in a goofy mood and none of us are taking anything seriously so we're making fun of this movie. The crabs were the best part. Mario Kart Wii is our next activity followed by my general makng fun of the staples of video games, then we're spicifically talking about Zelda.

Saturday started off slow, but ended up being awesome! And I'm making dinner tonight, so I need to get to the store and buy me some chicken soon...

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.

Dream

My dreams decide to incorporate the oddest things sometimes.

Take this dream from today. I took a nap at about noon, then woke up about 2, it's a lot longer than i intended, but weird things happened. Part of my dream was a video game. Part of the game was inspired by Mario 64, but I can't remember the rest. Then I'm going out to dinner with Miguel, Dad, Ari, a girl who is a weird combination of Sam L and Za and Dorien. We're talking about whatever then Dad chides me for not having my phone with me because he called me. Coincidentally this is one of the few times I didn't have my phone right next to my ear that I happen to be bitched at about it. Then there's another part of the dream where Migs is bitching me out about smoking because he found a cigar band and somehow forgot I'm old enough to smoke. He found either the bad or my cutter. This happened on the way to dinner. It was weird. Nothing made much sense. Funny thing is I go to check my phone and it's flashing I think 'Oh, someone actually called me. It's probably a text from Dorien' and it's a call from Glenn and I think 'Fucking weird. This reminds me of that dream I just had.

Yeah...that's what happened. I don't know why I was so pressed to write it up, but I was. I left a voice message reply, and about fifteen minutes after I realized what would have been the funniest thing to leave as a response. I'll have to use it some other time. And I have an amusing bit of something to tell Alex. So many thoughts and nobody to hear them. :(

Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.