You vs. I

You seldom display, and I have nothing to disguise.

Subtle is your arrogance. I talk shit to the vanity.

With such a lenient heart, you must be anemic. Always helping others in my time of need.

We guard our own hearts, and you hid like a Jew, but I am German after all.

Not a single thought in your mind, but I have legions.

You never form an opinion. I can hate strangers within the first two minutes of conversation.

You wanted my perfect body; I scarred it for trusting it’s pitiful heart.

You gave me everything I never wanted. You kept me away from everything I could have had.

No smile, just a fake to replace it. Bright eyes, gone dim.

every time you turned your back this way, in confidence, i would hold still, cause you wouldn’t have walked away.

but you,

if i were you, i would have left just as soon as i said “i want you to stay”. and i am sorry you felt it was safe.

because i try to lie to myself out loud, even more when you’re listening. but that is whats wrong with assuming,

So I’ll talk to myself. every word that was spoke was not meant to help.

and within one year, i torched our dreams til there were none and scattered the ashes when i was done

So iwas left with no one.

Confidence

Negative attributes                     Positive attributes

Junkie

Yell when  mad

Negative outlook

Inappropriate

Smoker

Self centered

Mean

No career

No money

Homeless

Hater

Unmotivated

Depressed

Low self-esteem

 

Lack of support can ruin your life. No confidence means you will never try. you won’t chase your dreams, assuming you will fail, like you do at everything… Can’t even get to work on time. Can’t even take care of your own child. You will never get a chance to thrive, to pursue what makes you happy, cause you would fail and it would be a waste of time. Your whole life has been one big waste of time.

 

Life is but a bad dream…

It has been a while…. for many things. I just wither. I do not let myself experience joy, only around Her. Because around Her, I feel human again. I feel like I am where I am supposed to be. Near Her. Loving Her. Guiding Her. Teaching Her. Hugging Her.

Then she is gone. for another week. And most times we part ways she says “I just want to go to your house and be with you…but I can’t.” All I can do is say “I want you to be with me too, more than anything. I’m sorry.” I am powerless. My heart breaks over and over again.

She knows she is supposed to be with me. She wants to come back home, back with Her Mama. But She doesn’t understand why She can’t. And as a parent, its the worst feeling to hear your child say she misses you and wants to be with you, and you can’t even be there for her, with her.

My parents have turned on me. They are fighting in court to adopt Her. They WANT to keep my little girl, forever, away from Her mother, where She wants to be. They want to keep their daughter’s daughter, for no reason other than that they finally spent more time with her (because they were kinda forced to) and they fell in love with her. For no reason other than their selfishness.

I am not a threat to my daughter. Everyone who knows me, knows that. Everyone who saw me with Her knows how much I looked after her. She always came first.

I can’t believe this is happening. This has to be a bad dream. I just need to wake up. Please, someone, wake me the fuck up! THIS CANT BE REAL. This isn’t reality, is it?

numbfuck

Doing my best to stay numb, otherwise I might kill myself.

Why “fullofhate”?

Because I hate the society we live in, which consists of objects, systems, people, and politics, most of which I hate. Of course, there are those rare people and objects within society that I love, or at least tolerate. However, in my experience, society is full of hate, and I live in that society.

It goes without saying (yet I will say it anyway) that my experiences differ from others. I envy the ignorant (or at least I wish I did). I envy people whose parents were always there for them. I envy those who have a support system in place. I feel sad when I see a little girl, riding on her father’s shoulders, smiling and giggling.

I get stuck thinking about how my life, how my daughter’s life, could have been different if only I hadn’t done this, or my parents hadn’t raised me like that, and on and on… I have trouble letting go of the past, because I cannot forgive myself, and the people in my life who have hurt me and my future, have yet to seek forgiveness. I wish I understood, or that they understood, whoever needs to understand, I wish they just would.

This beautiful little girl:

Her name is Raelynn. I gave birth to her in 2010, with intentions on having her adopted. I changed my mind when they left me alone with her overnight. I fell in love and have been in love with her ever since. Her and I spent every single day together from birth until December 5th, 2013, when she was physically abused by someone her and I trusted, while I was gone, paying the rent. I came home, it was dark, and supposedly she had just woken up from a nap. About 15 minutes later, the “babysitter” left, and I checked on Raelynn. I picked her up, and she screamed a scream that I wish I could forget hearing. I knew she was hurt. I turned on the light, and my heart started beating faster and faster as I saw more and more bruises all over her head. I then noticed she wouldn’t move her arm. I took her to the hospital. She had a fractured rib, an inflamed pancreas, a fractured arm, and multiple bruises. CPS took her from me, gave her to my parents, tried terminating my rights, but changed their mind after they saw the bond between her and I. However, they did not give her back to me. I have cried everyday since.

Today, I am still fighting to get full custody back. After losing my child, I lost my apartment because I took time off from life. I shutdown. I didn’t know what else to do. Everything I did was for her. So I was left with nothing. CPS provided me a list of hoops to jump through, which I have been doing ever since. However, now that my parents have been forced to spend time with her, they fell in love with her (of course), and are making everything harder for me to get her back. They are making false accusations against me, and if anyone knows how CPS works, all heresy is valid until proven otherwise. I hired a private attorney.  I have gotten back on my feet and have even started a business of my own, which so far has been successful. The fact that I am still fighting for full custody is ridiculous. But that is how CPS works, they get paid for every child they adopt out, so unless you work REALLY hard, dance when they tell you to dance, and retain private counsel, you stand no chance of getting your child back because they will NOT do everything they can to reunify families, because adoption is where the money’s at.

My daughter did not deserve to be abused by someone she trusted. She did not deserve to be moved out of her home and away from her mom, who she spent every day with. She did not deserve to have her routine completely interrupted. She did not deserve to suffer.

I am suffering, and I wish I could have suffered what she suffered, rather than her having to suffer all of that. I feel awful. I feel angry. Then my mind takes me to dark places. I am very good at talking shit about myself.

Hope is the only reason I am breathing these days. Hoping that one day, hopefully very soon, Raelynn and I can be happy and together every day again, like we were before that day in December. I hope that as she grows up, our bond will grow as well. I hope I can help her cope with what happened to her when the long-lasting effects of the trauma she experienced finally come to surface.

I will never forget her cries when they took her from me at the hospital. And I remember, when she was a newborn, swearing to her that I’d always be there. I need to be there for her, always. I promised. No one should have the authority to prevent me from keeping my promises.

I love you, Raelynn, one day you will understand how and why our lives changed so suddenly. No one loves you like I do, nobody has the authority to change that.

I swear! if only they would let me…

Whole worth, gone at once,
in just one moment…
all the while, supposedly knowing….
this coming Fall.

and every second,
I guess,
I am told,
was spent in ignorance…

writing with limp fingers.

they will show you, there is nothing to fear
and never will they hurt you,

or love you…
or ever truly know you.

you are smarter than them,
you will see how meaningless this has been.

Now, we are waiting,
and they are watching
the distress and desperation
stained on my face,
While I see them gain
every loss I am forced to take.

and this December
will be just another
month you remember,
I was not present.
I will be lonely,
and they will be silent,
but another year will have gone by…

Knowing too, that love is pain,
i love you endlessly!
and their meaninglessness grows thicker.

fuck writing, each fall I become more bitter,
and by Winter I am frozen, in a constant state

of Resentment, remembering,
nothing can stay,
the pace will change.

and all of this will only give you
reasons to fear everyone.
for you and i, we were stable,
and they’ve severed our roots.
now unstable.

i hope you’ve found comfort in our memories!

my family, the one i bore,
our blood flows thicker
than the water in their veins.
and I swear I will help you through this!
if only they would let me…

the two of us at home, where kids can cope…

Your universe, this “time”, it is wrong.

Like your worth to me,
Everyone has something in this world that is their God.
But Life experience is a cloud of smoke
And in place of that, I gave blood.

will they make it right?
Hearts cannot name
true love.

scratch perspective, its fact.

Your soul and it’s pace,
Damn love for staking its place.

And no, we’ve thought wrong.
A universe, or so it seems happened,
You and these,
nothing is there in life
that has not been.

It’s worth waiting to claim,
That day,
You fall and all you gain is pain.

Back turned.
Claiming their arms are full of trust
They heal families, keep lives together,
But their hands are broken
and God’s never going to heal you.

For Every emotion comes,
Just like your fingers scratching.
Intensity increases, pain follows.
Recognize thoughts & then the hurt.

There’s that god you thought was love…

All eyes on me everyone!
I am fine soulless and god doesn’t give a fuck.

So let that punishment come.

Your Universe is wrong.
This time is damaged.
My past soul is a sinking bitch.
You, Thing that fears,
You’ll never be something.

Take, when its time to give
No, you never owe a damn thing.

Coping methods will sink everyone,
and my family, you will sink alone.

Alive, 1 hour per week

I just want her back. I want my life back. Each Thursday from 12:30-1:30, I spend an hour with her. On Thursday at 1:30, when the visit is over, the week-long countdown starts over. Over and over again.

“I know this is hard now, but you will get her back soon and you will have years of time to spend with her.” I hear this way too often. It bothers me. But I do not expect people to understand unless they have been through this.

I know I will get her back. Soon? Well that depends on your definition of soon. It is not soon enough. I will never get this time back. She celebrated her third birthday, Christmas, the new year, Valentine’s Day, Saint Patrick’s Day, and soon she will celebrate Easter, and I am not there to celebrate with her. There is nothing to celebrate without her.

Three is such a fun age. She is developing her personality even more. She is learning so much. She is potty-trained. She talks back in complete sentences now. She forms opinions. And I am missing it.

Every Thursday I see how much she can change in one week. For that one hour a week, I feel alive again. I am always thinking of her. I do not think I have gone a full day without crying for her. I miss her more than I can begin to describe. And the more time that passes, the more she grows and develops, every time we say goodbye, it gets harder every minute.

This is a nightmare that I only escape every Thursday from 12:30-1:30.

beasts of the Earth, wild & dead

 

 

 

 

the futile.        so convincing.

there has never been a point.

we have no control.          nothing is under control.

you wild beasts.    eat me alive.     steal my young.

onto the next weak one.

satisfaction is a myth.         but may become truth finally in death.

destiny is universal.       do as you please.     nobody matters it seems.

pro-choice or pro-life, both are sentenced to death.

joy versus pain.      their worth is the same.

names don’t change a thing.   use them to shift blame.

stupidity argues!

and a burning sphere laughs.        watching from its death-bed.

you are right where you are supposed to be.

chained to the ground. one way out.           the majority fears it.

BUT DO NOT mourn the dead. ENVY THEIR FREEDOM.

invisible lover

you are absent and willing to be,
if you weren’t, the willing rain would be,
so it seems the stars dip to meet me,
the old me, with giggling words.
i am not immobile, i am gravitating,
and confining.
simple endurance is no happy way to live.
it is a warning to you, but i call it surviving,
and you are interminable.
dozens of words i roar rush up to the moon,
they vindicate my loss, your diversion,
and we are apart,
tried to follow you, I’m enraptured by you.
this secret heart is just a speck to you,
but I look back. loving you vanishes too soon,
and if droplets of our story were rattled together,
only the shrewd would know what it means.
prove me this, love of mine, love of many,
is it merely my flower you pick apart?
while i cultivate you, the mass moon is sadly engrossed while you philander
your stares cackle at my importune, but soon i open up,
you seem welcoming.
well maybe just try to appraise the beauty in teardrops.
i was smitten with your stories while we sat in traffic,
could i, nevertheless, be yours?
what words may i mutter that would be of consequence?
exclusively beautiful prose?
not the poem i scribbled in your car,
scrawled so close you could smell it, but were never moved by it.
no time, not in traffic, to notice, to understand it.
those words are residue left by my mind.

Just hold on, things will get worse.

I’ve come to find it quite comical, the way things will always get worse once they have gone bad. This truth does not only apply to food, but to all perishables, including humans. Of course, the degree to which one suffers is relative, as is the measurement of one’s greatness.

Depression prevents resilience in the face of adversity. Positive thoughts enable an individual to adapt and get through difficult situations. Those well-acquainted with depression typically lack the positivity necessary for resilience.

Positive thinking is not easy for me. I lack a supportive family and reliable friendships, and my self-esteem is hiding underground. The one thing that I was absolutely confident in was my ability to raise my daughter. She knows I love her and I know she loves me.

So much has changed now. I have lost that confidence. I feel isolated. I never felt alone with her around to care for. My depression, low self-esteem, and anxiety should not be so surprising though, especially during a time in which they are slandering my parenting ability and my character.

I need my daughter to grow up with a supportive family. If she stays with my parents, she won’t have that. I need to be there for her for the rest of my life. I don’t understand why they want to prevent that.

Not only do I have to defend myself in the Juvenile Court to get my daughter back, but my parents are pushing for adoption. They could simply elect to be Legal Guardian, but no. They want to take away my only chance of ever having my love again, my only chance to raise her. Would who do this to their own child? They must have so much doubt of me to think I will never be capable of raising her. Where were they the first three years of her life then? They were not around. She barely learned who Grandma and Grandpa was the week before she was taken.

These people are just trying to help though, right?

And again I say, fuck the system.

Where is your passion?

I have been going through the most difficult shit I have ever experienced in my life and instead of writing about that, because it may do me more harm than good, I am going to write about other shit that bothers me, and I hope it bothers you too.

Everyone can create a blog, write down their opinions, and feel like their voice is being heard. But most of our voices are not being heard, at least, not by a large audience. This doesn’t bother me, considering many blogs are full of unimportant or inaccurate information that should not be fed to the masses. The masses are too stupid to decipher between valuable messages and meaningless content.

However, some blogs host content that I wish the majority of people would take the time to read. There are smart writers with blogs, who are passionate about their topics; and passion is what art is about. Even if I disagree with the writer’s perspective on things, I can respect their passion for the topic and the fact that they are speaking out on a topic that relates to their personal values. I can understand why they are so passionate about that topic, because we all have a set of values that we can defend.

These are the types of discussions that people should be more open to. This is how problems are solved and voices are heard that spark revolutionary change. Lately, we have come to the point where people care too much about making other people uncomfortable. Everyone is too scared to be heard because it could put them and others in an uncomfortable place. We are exactly what the media and government want us to be: a bunch of stupid people who are too scared to speak up and make people THINK because that could make people uncomfortable.

Well I am uncomfortable with things as they continue going this way. We have freedom of speech, but lets not make people uncomfortable with the things we say… Fuck that. We have freedom of speech. Period. Lets make people uncomfortable! Especially the people who do all the speaking for us, such as the media and the government. Let them hear our voices for fucks sake!

I know most of us have a lot to say, but most of us are too scared to fucking say it. We just change topics or get on our cell phones to avoid having to speak up. Don’t you have values? Have you seen the world lately? What does society value most? Are society’s values the types of values you want your kids to adopt? Or do you want your community to share values similar to your own? Do you care at all? You think keeping to yourself is the right thing to do? Just let society’s values become the country’s values?

Wake up people! I know most people see the younger generations, wrapped up in technology, and think back to how things were twenty years ago. They say the younger generation lacks passion. Well if that is true, then its only because society does not value the things people want to be passionate about. The masses are distracting themselves with new technologies because society has become very shallow. People are not passionate about their iPhones, but I bet they are hungry for something to be passionate about. Artists need to provide that passion.

Write something that defends one of your personal values. Create a song, a poem, a painting, just something that represents the values you would fight for society to adopt. Provide the world with something worthy of passion. You’ll be surprised at how many people respond to your passion, and you may help others discover their own passion simply by your expression of it.

Make us uncomfortable with your passionate art! Make people think. Provide perspective, we all benefit when we gain perspective.

bitching humans

I know I am a hypocrite in saying this, but fuck it: Stop bitching. Everyone.

We have young people bitching about older people, who are bitching about younger people, who are bitching about their parents, who are bitching about their bosses, who are bitching about their wives, who are bitching about their husbands, who are bitching about Obama, who is bitching about Congress, who is bitching about the economy, which supports a country filled with people who are constantly bitching.

Its a control issue. We are not in control of others and so, we are not in control of some of the major aspects of our lives. We cannot make people do what we want them to do all the time. People will not take you or your feelings into consideration as often as you think they should, and vice versa.

I know one of my many flaws is this need to be in control. I do not trust others to execute things the way I would execute them.

One person cannot do everything or be everyone. We need other people to carry out various tasks and perform various roles in our lives, as others need us. In a society, usually, we all depend on one another for something. So quit bitching, because I am sure you aren’t the ideal human others think you should be.

my heart of soldered frame and wire

A heart only breaks for it to flake away the callous that grows with time; exposing itself to love, like a fresh open wound; foolishly, it will love, again.

but if you have taught me anything, it is that thought of “what if…?” Well, I light that sorry thought on fire, and refuse to become vulnerable, again.

A heart of soldered frame and wire cages my emptiness; locks it away, from all of you. make no mistake, my heart will never break, again.

anxiety

anxiety is a bitch. sometimes i am a recluse.

i hate going out in public. i hate having to ask a store employee where something is located.  i just hate drawing attention to myself. i get anxious whenever i walk out my front door. i love taking walks with my daughter. She is really cute, so people always stop and adore her. i love it, because she loves it, but i hate that it makes me feel weird.

I find an excuse to walk away from these situations that cause me anxiety. i just cannot handle attention.

When i walk by myself, I wear headphones so I do not hear all of the men in “animal mode” honking or yelling something like “hey baby”, “need a ride,” or “call me at 6195435436” or whatever the number is. i know they do this to almost every female that is walking down a sidewalk, but it draws attention from other drivers and other pedestrians towards me, so I try to tune them out with the sound of music coming from my headphones.

Even when I go to the rare family get-together, i feel anxious. i talk way too much. i  can never get comfortable. I always want to leave when I have just arrived. the only reason I do anything outdoors is for the benefit of my daughter. but the whole time, i feel like time is going so slow.

This is serious, Jessica.

I am writing because I am unhappy with the fact that I have not been writing much lately. I have not been writing much lately because I have been unhappy… with almost everything lately.

Depression is irritating. So its not just sadness, its anger. I am angry because I feel so fucking sad all the time. I wish I could kick myself in the face and stop being such a little bitch about life.

Get over it, Jessica. Life sucks a lot of the time because you have responsibilities. That will not change, ever. Deal with it! Deal with the loneliness. Deal with the fact that you will always be left wanting. You will always feel guilty for something. People will let you down. You will let yourself down. Life as an adult is not as much fun as you thought it would be when you were 15. Who fucking cares? Deal with it.

I laugh a lot when I speak with people. The problem with this is that I laugh after saying things that are not funny or after people say things that are not meant to be funny. I am not really laughing because I think something is funny. Its more of a “life is fucking ridiculous/silly, huh?” or a “it fucking figures” or a “fuck me! right?” laugh. Unfortunately, people do not often understand the reason I laugh after saying something like, “So I helped my friend get a piece of artwork out of pawn because they had no money. This was a $500 favor. I really should not have spent that money, but I am a good friend like that. Well, the next day, my friend comes over to my house with a brand new pair of $200 sunglasses they just bought themselves.” Its not funny at all, but its laughable because its fucked up. Of course its fucked up, people are fucked up. Life is fucked up. I won’t cry about it. So I am going to laugh about it because its no surprise. Life and people are just fucked up sometimes and its all fucking silly.

So fuck it. I hate being depressed and I am anxious all the time. It may not be funny, but I would rather laugh at how fucked up it is than get upset about it. All of this will soon fade anyway. We are all going to die eventually and it will not matter if you laughed or cried. Life is often upsetting, mostly because people are upsetting. Its all fucking silly. People are so fucking silly.

the motion in our blood

the motion is what fools me.
like the blood flows through each vein,
never leaving this cage of a body,
but going places nonetheless.
motion does not guarantee progress.
we can talk in circles for days.
actively listening to no spoken thoughts,
traveling back to where we start.
no, direction is no savior.
no matter the east or the west,
all blend into one on this infinite curve.
it is purpose that fuels me
through each repetition i taste,
the only life that breathes meaning into each beat beneath this chest;
should have known, it could never have been my own.
flesh and bone, though you have yet to comprehend,
you hold my soul;
it dances in your breath,
a guarantee, you will never know what is alone.

our problems

Cabrillo National Monument/Tide pools. The best place in San Diego for a reality check. The cliffs, waves, and the expanse of ocean are enough for me to acknowledge how small we all are. My daughter and I sat there by the ocean, which is in a planet, which is in a solar system, which is in a galaxy, which is in a universe littered with other galaxies.

Who are we really? How large are our “problems” really? The Universe does not give a fuck about your cracked iPhone screen. The Universe continues to function when we die.

We are simply animals. We are the foolish animals slowly ensuring our extinction. In my opinion, this planet is much better off without humans.

‘

temporary hearts

We are all temporary. All of us. Earth. situations. people. trees. civilizations.

Ever-changing, always searching. looking for something permanent to cling to.

We could never quite get a grasp on what we dream, who we love, who we want to be. Cannot get to where we want to be. Because it is all changing.

So must we fold our hands? must we sit and spin, and let this lonely existence run its course? it all runs down into a single second.

a second without meaning.

i once believed humans were not meant to be alone. But all we end up is lonely.

This is why I prefer not to “let people in.” Everyone leaves eventually. When they do leave, it creates a gap in things. When I dig into you, I will dig in deep. Otherwise, I would not waste your time.

But I fear others would do the same. They will carve themselves out a crater and eventually, they will leave, they will leave my heart an empty canyon.

How could a temporary heart make your permanent home?

there’s a pill for that

so, about psychology…. i mean, seriously? what a scam. people eat that shit up. and so the profits are made. that is what psychology is all about.

the well-funded psychological research is focused on the biological factors that influence behavior, not the environmental factors. How fucking arrogant…

They are willing to throw down tons of money to search for a way to blame evolution for all of the psychological disorders that plague mankind today, because the environmental factors (which are obviously causing these psychological disorders) would eliminate the chance to make a profit from the treatments. So they spend money to make money. They research and develop a new treatment (i.e. a pill) to mask the symptoms of the psychological disorder and thus, profits are made. If they were to research the environmental factors influencing behavior, a pill would not be an effective treatment, but most importantly, a pill would not be a profitable treatment.

so forget about our flaws. society, don’t you worry one bit. we can keep fucking up. we can keep fucking ourselves up, and the future generations can be fucked up as well. there is money to be made. keep the prescriptions going, we do not need to solve the problem. people will pay us to make them feel like we solved the problem.

but time will show you that the future generations will be just as fucked up as all of you, if not more.

In my psychology class, which I was unfortunately required to take, the teacher (Jason Dias, PsyD) admitted this to me, which I thought must have disappointed many of the students in that class, because most of the students had expressed their desire to major in psychology for the purpose of helping people (my major is business). Here is how our exchange went word-for-word:

Teacher: “Hi, Jessica. You said, “Another question to ask about the influence nature and nurture have on our behavior is how do nature and nurture influence our behavior.” Yes, I’d say the argument has evolved from “whether” to “how,” just as you suggest here. But, in secret, disguised as other issues, in fact the debate does rage on. Biological explanations are winning. Depth approaches to psychology are losing. Applied research means research with an aim to accomplishing some task or fixing some problem. A compression rate of 100 beats per minute is ideal for CPR, for example. At the level of basic research, there is essentially nobody contending that development is all nature or all nurture. But at the level of applied research, we are unduly interested in the biology of behavior at the expense of the nurturing things we can do to help people.”

Me: “You said, “At the level of basic research, there is essentially nobody contending that development is all nature or all nurture. But at the level of applied research, we are unduly interested in the biology of behavior at the expense of the nurturing things we can do to help people.” Does that mean that, at the level of applied research, the assumption is that biological factors are creating the problems that research aims to fix?”

Teacher: “Hi, Jessica. You said, “Does that mean that, at the level of applied research, the assumption is that biological factors are creating the problems that research aims to fix?” Yes, exactly. The debate is secret because it is in the assumptions. We aren’t talking any more about whether biological or environmental factors create depression. We assume they are. Research is aimed at finding the best medical intervention (i.e., pill) rather than the best treatment. Small groups protest these assumptions but in general are not as ruthless or as well funded as those in the position to carry out the research. Psychotherapists are not a well-funded, politically empowered group, for example. Therapy has a lot going for it as an intervention but is no longer really part of the conversation any more.”

Me: “The best medical intervention (i.e., pill) does not always solve the problem. For example, if a friend takes pills for depression, without the pills he would still be depressed. It just seems rather arrogant to assume that biological factors are to blame when it could very well be an error on our part. Is it possible that the way we go about things causes the problems? How is the best medical intervention a solution to the problem if generations of people continue to have the problem? If the way we function as a society is causing the problems, is it just seen as too large of a problem to bother with more research?”

Teacher: “Hi, Jessica. You said, “If the way we function as a society is causing the problems, is it just seen as too large of a problem to bother with more research?” I can answer that in a single word: profits. There are simply no profits to be made in addressing social issues.”

Isn’t it awesome how much progress we are making?! Oh, that’s right…we aren’t making any…

Go Humans!

quit lying to your kids

parenting… this gig scares the shit out of me. my daughter has the potential to smash my heart under her heel for the rest of my life. i usually try to keep people out of that powerful position. i do not want to place my heart at their mercy.

am i a bad parent for not wanting to be a parent before i became a parent? and then when I became a parent, it was not necessarily because I desired to raise a child of my own, who i can show off to the world to be seen as an acceptable human in society. does that make me a bad parent? i love her. but my reason for becoming a parent seems to differ from other parents. does that mean i am a bad parent?

i just want to laugh sometimes when i speak to another parent. We will both complain about the fits our kids throw, then there is a pause in the conversation, and before the silence becomes awkward the other parent will say “…but kids are great! i love ’em.” ….yeah! totally, for sure…

i do not love kids. i love my kid. not your kid though. Excluding my own child, kids are awkward to interact with. they just stare at you, or try to speak in a language you do not understand, or try to get you excited about some toy car they just got at the store, and then you have to act excited about their toy car before they wake up and realize their toy car is a fucking toy that is not exciting at all…

you have to fake a lot with kids and i am not sure why, it only prolongs the inevitable. I am not sure I can tell my daughter that Santa Claus brought her gifts. it will only bring her disappointment later. and i will be seen as a liar. Santa Claus is not real, these presents are from me. what is so hard about that? kids should be excited about Christmas regardless of who their presents are from.

the tooth fairy is bullshit as well. you lost a tooth, stuck it under your pillow, and while you were sleeping, i crept inside your room, took your tooth, and replaced it with some money or some other useful item. Couldn’t my daughter have a happy childhood without these fucking fairy tales? Usually, our childhoods are happy because children have no responsibilities. if i did not have to do a damn thing but play all day, i would be happy too, without fairy tales.

i am all about honest parenting. I understand discretion and age-appropriate communication.

reality, its where we all live, unfortunately.

society says: no animals allowed

it is always hilarious to watch humans behave like animals in society. we can’t help it sometimes.

so you mr. and mrs., it really should not be that shocking when your spouse cheats on you. if we were living like animals, we would most likely be fucking more than one person for the rest of our lives.

and single men, if we lived like animals, you would have to step up your game and be a little more creative with your mating dance.  if we were living like animals, you would not be able to get a girl drunk enough to fuck you, you wouldn’t be able to flash money at her, or lie to her when you borrow your mom’s fancy car and tell her its yours. you wouldn’t be able to pay for dinner, you would have to hunt a live animal to feed her. and it would be a good idea to sweep your poo out of your cave before you mate with her on top of your animal skin/fur “blankets”.

the mating dance has been adapted to the standards set by society.

humans continue to puff up their chests like animals do. men like to compare their “coolness.” “anything he can do I can do better,” is typically how it goes. if all else fails, men will still literally puff up their chests and get in each others face, talking shit, until they fully release the inner animal and start a physical fight. but then society breaks up the fight and places the animals in cages downtown. once the animals start acting human again, they might be allowed to enter society again.

sometimes people go full animal and there is no going back. they will be in a cage forever. a much smaller cage than the rest of us are in.

no creature on this earth roams free anymore. society has caged us all. even the “wild” animals are forced to remain in what we call “the wild.” this whole earth was wild before the ego was born and humans started fucking shit up. every creature on this earth suffers at our hands, humans included.

what have we done?

happiness, meaning, and satisfaction

a friend and i were recently discussing the difference between happiness and meaning. A life of meaning is not necessarily a happy life. And what role does satisfaction, or lack there of, play in all of this?

If there is a need for meaning in every aspect of life, how can satisfaction ever be achieved? i know so little and i desire to know so much more. there are so many mysteries and they will remain mysterious for the duration of my existence, at least. never satisfying my curiosity.

why should i settle for happiness? satisfying our need for food, water, shelter, affection, etc., it makes some people happy. it makes them content with life. each trip around the sun in their lifetime is spent working, providing, fucking. those needs are met, it makes them happy, they are satisfied, and no further progress is made. then death. the end!  how is that a happy life? why? what was their purpose? is there even a purpose for any of us?

life is crazy and if i am going crazy, i would like an explanation. i would like to justify these chaotic thoughts, the thoughts i have yet to bleed by way of ink, lead, or keyboard. they move so fast and i cannot grasp each thought long enough to finish the slaughter.

this cannot be good for my blood pressure. especially when i cry. what a fucking mess i am when i cry. when i cry, it never lasts long because each sob gives me a really bad headache, so the pain in my head motivates me to stop crying. on top of that, snot just comes pouring out of my nose like I have never seen happen to anyone before. it pours and i cant breathe through my nose. oh and my eyes get swollen as fuck, the next day it looks like i got punched in the face.

all of this happens within the first couple minutes of crying. i do not let it go further because it hurts, i can’t breathe, and anyone could look at my eyes and see i was crying. perhaps i am allergic to crying…

crying brings no satisfaction. it just makes my face look weird and gives me a headache. it makes me worse off than i was.

i don’t even know what i am talking about anymore. or why. another mystery. ugh.

in the drum of the washing machine

Its so comforting to know I’ll never have to think again…at least, that is what I tell myself whenever I start thinking too much about death. It brings me peace.

I feel stuck. Always thinking. Never doing enough. Not progressing fast enough. Chained to the floor. I am just in this box that I pay for every month, thinking.

Stuck in a cycle. Feels like the wash cycle and my fucking head is trapped in the drum of the machine. Filled up, agitated, drained, filled again, agitated, drained, and spun around. When the cycle is over, they’ll take my head out and toss it in a furnace until I am a pile of dry ashes.

This parenting thing is a two-person job. I do not get to have fun with her as much as she or I would like. I have to tell her no, or to wait, or that she needs to go to bed, or that we cannot do this or that right now. She must think that I am so lame. She does not understand why.

I wonder how cool she would think I was if I had actually been prepared to be a parent. I wonder if I am lame because I was not prepared but decided to keep her. Would she have been better off? Did I ruin her life when I did not give her up?

There is just no way of knowing how much happier she may or may not have been if I had given her up. I mean, she is only two, so she would most likely have the same sassy two-year-old attitude no matter who her parents were. I just wish she were old enough to understand why I do the things that I do, or why we don’t do everything she wants to do, or why I can’t do all the things I want to do with her or for her. Yet.

But instead of understanding, she screams, and cries, and hits me, and throws things, and falls to the floor, and covers her face with her hands, and sobs into her hands. And I just stare at her, with my eyebrows raised. And then she moves her hands away from her face, looks up at me,

and laughs.

soon you will fade

soon you will fade,
be it tomorrow or today,
when you’re out of the womb,
expect to move to a grave.
live slow or make haste,
your life will not remain.
all your love and your hate,
will be buried away.
loud and awake,
in a cradle you lay,
while a silent coffin awaits,
for you will soon fade.

cowardly christian

preachers use such smooth lines to gather up the church’s tithe. take each 10 percent and use it to augment the walls of the ghetto, for there can be no saints amongst the sinners. “we are up and they are just going to bring you down.” you have faith, but i have a confession. i believe that death is a conclusion, and we all seek a means to cope, until we all face that fear alone, living in fear we can fear as one.but the pulpit cries and blinds your eyes. god needs to separate you from me, the holy from the unclean. “if you wander outside, you dare not contravene your Christianity.”squeezing facts for religion from pages that read like fiction. but only in death will i find proof, the absolute truth. and if it is all a waste, my soul disgraced, will the fool be you or will the fool be me? could you give us a reason why you are afraid? does a coward even need one? why aren’t you afraid? your fear is a gavel, each judgement based on your faith, but at the end of days, be you a priest or the devil, fears grip will hold us equal, for we all die, one and the same.

Ventilation

This may sound harsh, but I am not worried about hurting anyone’s feelings…. and so, the vent:

How do people get so fucking stupid? I really do not like to call myself smart, because that just means that the majority of people are fucking stupid. I have a hard time accepting that.

I went to a bar the other night for the same one reason I ever go to a bar: a guy friend invited me, I like dark beer, I like to people watch, and I would not have to pay to do them both at the same time.

While smoking cigarettes on the patio, a man who was obviously drunk was observing people too, but the alcohol impaired his judgement I am sure. Somehow he ends up talking to me about his ex and how she used to go to this bar, and that he loves this bar, but he doesn’t want to invade her space, or make her uncomfortable if she saw him talking to a female, blah blah blah. Obviously, he was hoping to run into her there, but no man would admit that to a stranger, especially a female stranger, so I went along with it and told him she has no right to be uncomfortable with how he lives his life, they are not together anymore. And just to be an asshole because he was not admitting that his desire was not for the bar, it was for his ex, I reminded him that she is talking to other men because she has moved on, just like him. [I would have laughed aloud, but he wouldn’t understand why] I grin, he thanks me for the “pep talk” and goes inside to “handle the situation.” Then I laugh.

Later, the drunk guy and another guy come outside and sit next to my friend and I. I am not sure what we were talking about, but it somehow got the drunk guy on the topic of gun control. The drunk guy was at least smart enough to allow his friend to speak his opinion on gun control laws, but I am sure it was just his friend’s opinion and he just agrees.

The last thing I wanted to do at a bar was get into a debate about gun control with a drunk guy and his friend, who also had no intentions of going to the bar just to wind up in a debate. So his friend and I have a healthy debate and that was fine, but the drunk guy was just saying stupid shit. So eventually, his friend just goes inside, and there is nothing left to do but fuck with this guy, so that I can at least laugh and get some kind of enjoyment out of the night.

I made him completely contradict himself and he did not even notice, but after my friend and I were laughing for a bit, we told the confused drunk man that we were laughing because I was fucking with him.

So he leaves a little later, and another guy comes out, asks me some generic question that gets asked of every stranger, and I replied in a way that is normal to me, but apparently, my reply made him say, “oh, you are one of those smart girls, huh?”

If I am smarter than the average girl, then that is just sad. What is even sadder, is that men get so awkward around smart girls. Especially smart girls that are not afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings. Feelings do not get hurt if you leave your ego at the fucking door. It is like men do not know how to act when they encounter a smart girl. They act all awkward and weird.

Most of the people I meet are fucking stupid. Stupid people are hard to have a conversation with, because eventually the conversation will make them feel stupid and then their stupid ego is damaged, and they hate me. I do not even have to say anything offensive, I just make my points and stupid people often do not know how to prove their points.

So, perhaps I am picky and that is why I do not have a large number of true friends, because a large number of people I will encounter in life are fucking stupid, and I do not have stupid friends. I would rather not have to talk like I am stupid to make them comfortable with being my friend.

And dating, well I guess I have to figure out where the smart people go when they are not home. I just hate to accept that the majority of people are stupid. I think mass media should be thanked for playing a major role in that…

guess I will remain fullofhate. stupid people are easy to hate.

mindless

full-time thoughts. a black hole of a mind. the center of my perfect universe. oh, be cautious, traveling savior. beware the clutches of blown light. the blood on breath of night. if we can imagine, is there meaning? what does death even distinguish? we are never this nor that, so what will i have known? my face melts the mirror and makes my skin thick with ash. bones growing through the floor. but you are soon to be buried in a city where none are worth listening to. they motion for us to leave, as human becomes sinner. but death only reigns on these planets, orbiting a sphere of light that will swallow them hole. what a humiliating dance…only this fool would dare say.

empty words

what a waste of time and breath.

actions speak volumes, but I have such a love for words that I find it difficult to listen. What is the use in talking, in writing, in singing, or in signing if our actions do not translate into the same words?

Liar. It is better to be mute than to speak and not follow through. Words will lose their meaning. From those lips, they are worthless.

Why are people so afraid of hurting feelings? It is worse to be misleading. Wasting time, abusing trust, insulting intelligence, and lying… Spare us all. Do not assume you are significant enough to hurt the other person’s feelings. Even if you are, more damage is done when you speak no truth.

Give meaning to the beat beneath the blood.

are you proud?

do you think you are something great? are you proud of what you have done? you feel good about what you have become?

you boast of your feat, like it makes you a god. it has all been done long before you were conceived. another man, much like you, plagued with trivial pursuits.

you acknowledge that you’re only human when confronted with your sin. but if someone praised you, and said you’re a hero, how human would you claim to be? Heroes are nothing but flesh and bone.  heroes die and sinners die, and we all return to dust.

will you gods among men help me comprehend how to take pride in my humanity? show me how to distinguish one human from the next. show me the lines that have built up your pride to a height that leaves me under your reign.

we cursed the earth and all who live in it. destroying ourselves by raping this planet. aren’t you proud of what you have done? look at how far we’ve come….

the universe is not impressed.