How...

can I be so tired when I did not much today? I cleaned and set up my room a lot, I cooked, I went to Jesus Folks, and spent time with Ariel and Claire and Alex...

So very tired. I really want to read though...

Today had a bunch of emotions in it... Jesus Folks made me sad/mad some, but then talking about it with Ariel later was chill.

Fuck. I just need to repost that one post... This is OCTOBER 2008. Fuck. Why has nothing changed?

"
Let’s Do This

So... it's been awhile since I posted anything on this. Figured I'd do an update/ramble/thoughts running through my head.

For the past few days I've been thinking an inordinate amount about things I usually shy away from. I try NOT to think about my overall body image, or how different I am from others my age, or what I may or may not be missing out on by not dating in high school -by not BEING in high school-, what the choices I have made over the years in relation to all of my being have done to affect where I am now.

I do not consider myself a Christian anymore. I honestly wish I could, because that would be one part of my life where I might have fit in. Instead, other more... oh how can I put this? I don't know if I can. I wish, with everything in me, that I was one of the people who could explain everything about themselves and just KNOW that that is who they are. I question, overthink, re-think... I like it. I cannot believe in a religion that does not meet all of my needs for answers or questions or the things I am allowed to do or must do... In general, Christianity does not fulfill me and I have so many friends that it does and it makes me both happy for them and sad that I haven't found whatever it is that will work for me yet. I hope that someday soon I will find that part that *clicks* into my being.

Body Image was a topic in my Human Sexuality class; a class I love and wish I was doing more in; and I had to face some hard realizations that for the most part I stifle or ignore. Though most of these are conditional, some seem to hold true for me. I hate my breasts. I am overweight, so they are bigger than they would be if I lost weight, but if I do that, they will be... how to put this... saggy. I don't know how much... I can't remember a time when I didn't have them. Most of all really, I hate how I have come to deal with them. I don't cover them up, I accentuate them. Apparently at some point I thought "If I bring them up first, then maybe someone will look PAST them; to me." So far, it hasn't worked. I don't know who I am as a person because so much of my identity is wrapped up in having breasts. I have been the girl with the giant breasts so long... I don't know who else to be. The rest of my body... I live with. It works for me most days, and the bone structure given to me by genetics I cannot change.

I have come to be more liberal that many expected over the years. I want to go to The Evergreen State College, I am planning on going to Burning Man Summer '09. I want body mods (piercings: nipples, nose, vertical labret) and tattoos. I have so many diverse interests that no one knows about because they don't scratch the surface. They look, they see, they accept that the persona they are most aware of is who I am. So much of what I am is hidden, even from my dearest friends.

I have considered suicide, cutting, running away, ripping up everything I own and just GOING. The amount of time I am tempted to do the latter is somewhat frightening in its intensity, even now as I write this I have a yearning to do just that. The only thing that has kept me from any of those things is the amount of pain I would put my friends and family through. I watched my mom die, literally in the space of a morning and over a period of years. I still never really had a chance to say goodbye.

I want to leave to re-invent myself. I hate that no matter where I go, who I meet, the new situations I get put in, I go back to my old standby of the girl who you can talk to about sex, about anything. Yes, I masturbate. Sometimes more than others, and no, I DON'T lie about it. For that, I am given secrets and insights and all those things people would rather have in someone else's head then theirs. Friend, I am. Lover, I am not. I love that people can talk to me, choose to share with me the details of their lives that they don't or won't share with anyone else, but it's like all I am is a secret receptacle. After they share its like they don't need me anymore, don't need the reminder of the secret they banished from their head into someone else's.

I hate that, the assumptions that people make when they see me, when someone tells them about me, when they think about what I look like. My best friends still assume a TON of things about that make it virtually impossible for me to talk to them about certain things. Some things people think they know about me… they have just formed an idea in their head, no actual basis. Or they take how I act on certain days or around certain subjects and take it to the extreme. I've said it before and I will say it again; Don't assume anything about me. Most likely, you will be wrong.

I close myself off from many things. I cannot deal with the pain and agony and hate and tears that seem to fly from others (countries, people, lovers, killers) so I focus on one or two things, get through the day; on to the next. Make people laugh, smile, be appalled at my ability to say what they think but won't say because it isn't socially acceptable. FUCK SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE. If you feel it, think it, want it, love it, hate it, need it, crave it, lost it, SAY IT. Not whatever society says girls or boys or men or women or children or straight or bi or gay or black or white or brown or in-between or ANYTHING says you have to say, say what you are, you feel.

I constantly feel like I am a ball of energy kept together by nothing more than skin and will. The only ways I have found of siphoning off enough for me to be able to function are as follows: run, drive, paint, listen to certain songs on repeat, orgasm, laugh, cry, dance, write. I don't know what that says about me, nor do I really care much. Truth, it is.

From now on... I will be honest. Ask me a question, any question, and my answer will be as honest as it can be."


There. Thats all I have for this evening, but... yeah. That is ALL still relevant.

AND WHY THE FUCK DO I TALK ABOUT MYSELF ALL THE TIME? There is so much other shit going on in this world, and yet I think its completely acceptable to just ramble on about how much my life sucks. Fuck this. I'm getting the hell out of this society that not only thinks this is acceptable, it encourages it.