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Yay, July batch started up normally! I thought I'd be waiting half the month for it. But I'm only a day behind. I really don't feel that well... I think I may have to go to the doctor on the fourth of July... for a really embarrassing problem that shouldn't be embarrassing because, well, everybody has that problem at some point. Well, every woman does. Most women. But even so, the fourth of July is my day off and I don't want to spend it at the doctor. Or the urgent care. Or whatever's open. If nothing's open... oh, well.
I can't seem to get comfortable. I've been sitting down all day long and when I actually walk around, it's too hot to go outside, so what do I do? Pace around my house? Maybe I ought to spend some time at the gym and run laps. I'd love to run... haven't done it in such a long time. I also need to drink more water. I said I would drink more water this year, but so far, I think I've been drinking less. I'm like a desert animal; I can get by on a milliliter of water a day.
Things feel like they're coming together better than they did in the past week. Maybe that's because I get tomorrow off from work and I feel a blast of optimism. The thing is, I'm still getting used to my new job and trying to figure out if that's what I really want to do for the rest of my life. I love editing, but I think I'm more of a book editor than an editor of scientific publications. Who knows... I might get used to it. I'm young and there is still plenty of time. I think too far ahead.
It's Independence Day! This is probably my third favorite holiday, after Easter and Christmas. I think it's my favorite because it's a relaxing type of day. You don't have to get all dolled up for pictures with family; you can wear shorts and a T-shirt and eat barbecue and go to the beach or the pool and have the scent of salt or chlorine in your hair. You don't have to worry about getting anyone presents. There's no church because it's not a religious holiday. It's something every American can take part in. We can be proud of America.
You light up my world like nobody else...
I thought of that song for the girls I used to work with. (I guess I should say girls and women.) They're bright and vivacious and lovely and strong and they never let anything get them down for long. The guys they're with are lucky to have them. They're honestly the best women I know and the ones I'm proud to call my friends. A big improvement over my high school days, where friendship wasn't a huge deal. It was a flash-in-the-pan type of friendship. Not much trust, really.
I dreamed about the girl again last night. The girl who is my greatest female inspiration. I would go so far as to call her my muse. She does exist in real life; she's not just some fictional character I have invented. She was once one of my best friends, although now I don't think she knows I exist. It's almost like a crush, but not quite, since I don't consider myself bisexual or anywhere near that orientation. Her life, her style, the way she thinks, her history, her choice of men and women... they fascinate me to no end.
My cousin turns 27 today. In a way, my boyfriend reminds me of my cousin. I don't mean that in an incestuous way, just that they have similar personalities.
Yesterday, I was thinking of one of my exes. And his sister. How I looked like his sister. It made me think that perhaps that was the reason he dated me; deep down, on a subconscious level, he wanted to date his sister. Or he was in love with his sister. But that began to remind me too much of a William Faulkner novel, so I stopped having the thought.
Still reading a memoir. It's a good memoir, and I wonder how difficult it is for authors to write them. I remember very little of the time before I was seven, but I know if I tried, I could come up with a few anecdotes. I'd have to make up most of the dialogue - I doubt I could reconstruct much of it from memory. There are a few lines of dialogue that will always stick clearly in my head. I won't write them down here. I don't think my life is interesting enough to be a memoir. I'm not famous.
It doesn't seem like anyone waits until marriage to lose their virginity. It seems like guys these days expect a girl to sleep with them after they've been dating a few months. I don't know if that's true for the majority of the world, but it feels like it where I live. It makes me sad. I believe that it's better if you only sleep with one person, you only give yourself to that one person. Not everyone might believe that, and I hate how much scorn I feel for people who don't. Sometimes I can be a real hypocrite.
Three young men. The three stooges. One with blond hair, one with black hair, one with brown hair. They are tall, they are big, and they listen to loud, obnoxious music, rolling around in the black-haired one's Honda pretending they're teenagers when they're in their early twenties. They go through girls like candy, they play video games like they're going out of style. They would make good husbands... in fifteen or twenty years. But for now they're boys, and it's fun to just watch the boys be boys without forcing them into men. They will get there soon enough.
I hate it when my parents don't like the guy I date. You know, if I did like most people my age and moved out of my house, they wouldn't really have much say in the matter. They wouldn't have to see my boyfriend. They wouldn't even have to know he exists or that he dates me. I'd like to have an open, honest relationship with my parents, but that's hard when my dad is making passive-aggressive comments and my mom just shakes her head. I think they ought to trust my judgment sometimes. I am supposedly so smart.
I don't care if you think something I do is stupid... or something I am. I'm not weak, I don't need a man. I don't need other people to validate the things I do mainly for myself. I write for myself. If you think my writing is stupid, I don't care. I'm still going to write. Sure, you might not think it's the best writing in the world, but if it makes me happy, then fine. I might not like your writing or your art or your films, but that doesn't make it stupid. It's a simple difference of opinion.
I heard a song by Flo Rida called "Whistle" and it's talking about how the guy's going to show the girl how to blow his whistle. Of course, that's the biggest double entendre I've heard from music in a long time. The song is innocent on the surface, but if I had kids, I wouldn't let them listen to it, just knowing the double entendre. Yet there are people who let their kids listen to popular music. If anything, my kids will listen to classical... maybe some popular music, but not those types of songs that have meanings like that.
I think I understand why certain people don't tell me things. Because they think I'll judge them. And to be quite, honest, I will. Look - I don't think it's right that your girlfriend sleeps over at your house. She's your girlfriend. She's not your wife. It's not like she's homeless with nowhere to go. I don't think teen pregnancy is acceptable. Just because society has accepted these things as commonplace doesn't mean I will. I don't care that I'm acting prejudiced and bigoted. Honestly, I don't. People have it within them to control themselves and their impulses. We are strong.
I feel as though the world has changed. I may end up giving in, even though I don't want to. My resolve is slipping, my flesh is weakening. I hate being human. I wish my spiritual side was stronger. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Yesterday, I had a good deterrent. I felt as though God is still on my side. But my walls are crumbling. My whole defense is caving in. I don't know if this is a good thing or not. I'm supposed to be less shy and open up, but not in this way.
She always posts about sex now, and I do not want to see pictures of penetration on my dashboard when I log in. Maybe I'm a prude, and honestly, I don't care that I am. To me, sex is an irritation, something that gets in the way of other, more productive activities. Yeah, I can understand lust, having lust for someone... out of fear, I have never acted on my lust for a person. I don't fuck, I make love... and there is one person in the universe I could ever make love to. He knows who he is, too.
I go away from my computer for two days and amass over 40 emails in the meantime. It's completely insane. But I suppose that's what happens these days... technology gets to be too much sometimes. Sometimes I have the morbid wish that the Internet would go down all over the world for just one day, so we could see what would happen without Internet. We'd have to go back to the "stone age" and that would be neat... how would we ever survive? I know it would definitely be a day off work for me, and for many other people.
Glad I'm over the hump that is Wednesday. Only Thursday and Friday remain, and hopefully I should have an entire day of writing on Saturday and possibly Sunday, which would make me the happiest person in the world. I'd rather write than go to any social functions, unless they included interesting people and conversations I could somehow incorporate into stories later. That's what a writer looks for... all those kinds of things that would make good fiction. Being observant is definitely a good trait to have if you want to become a writer. Look at the little things; they matter.
My muse, my addiction, my love. There is no greater muse than music. But some people may beg to differ. Other human beings make great muses, as do pets, and nature, and books, and fine dining...
Eh, I can't manage to finish my 100 Words. I keep getting distracted by all the other things on the Internet I could possibly be distracted by... but that's the beauty of the Internet. It's a powerful vortex that sucks you in until you can no longer function. And that is what I love and hate about it.
The Internet... another great, powerful muse.
Now I have a Marilyn Manson song stuck in my head, and it made me think of the whole movie theater shooting incident. After the events of Columbine, Manson said that all Eric and Dylan really needed was someone to listen to them. I think perhaps that's all this shooter needed, too. I may be wrong. Chances are, he was on medication, or he had some kind of mental problem that meant he should have been on medication. Even so, people with problems need people to listen to them more so than others. (That sentence made no sense, oddly enough.)
Back to what I was saying in "yesterday's" 100 words: I think that the world would be a better place if only people took the time to listen to others. One of my favorite sayings is that in order to be understood, you must have to learn to understand others first. I agree with that wholeheartedly. See where the other person is coming from. Understand his side of the story. Then you might come to a better conclusion than you might have if you had not listened at all. Understanding is so important, and we don't do enough of it.
Getting lots of good ideas for my newest story, and that makes me very happy. Of course, I had to delve into backstory quite a bit before I reached the present and a lot of things from backstory are becoming clearer to me as I go. That's the best part of all this. Now that I know my full set of characters (five main ones, the usual number I use for a new story) quite well, the plot will come easily. I've planned out the beginning and end of the story, now the trick is to connect those two together.
James Holmes ruined the code of honor. I heard a song by that title and I couldn't help but think of the Colorado shooting. It bothered me; I thought about it so much that I started to feel slightly sick, then I figured I had better not be worried. You can't live your life in fear. I read a comment on CNN (of course, most comments on CNN and similar sites are not the most intelligent in the world) that got to me; it said something about the media, the mourning, the events after a shooting that are almost cliche.
I have been sick since Sunday night and it is Wednesday and I think I'm getting better now. I had a ridiculous pounding headache and now I believe it's gone away. It's still slightly there, but not as bad as it had been. It's not a migraine. I have never had migraines. I don't think anyone in my family has ever had migraines. But at any rate, I hope I am getting better; I hated having to take a day off work, but I guess if I was that sick or stressed, I must have needed a day off anyway.
Most girls I have known have betrayed me. And I have betrayed most girls I have known. Never in my life have I had a single true female friend. My best friends of all time have all been guys. Females will stab you in the back. Females are not always clear with you. Females will put on a fake face and tell you what you want to hear instead of what you need to hear. I am no exception to the rule. If I could do things over, I would have been a lot closer to those female friends.
"I feel like I am just too close to love you"
Or however that new song goes. I don't even know who sings it. It's just that the song would have been so appropriate about three years ago... actually, more than three years ago now.
Time is going by so fast. Just a year ago, it seemed that time was as slow as the drip of a faucet. Now it's like time is going by in the cascade of a waterfall. Crashing.
The scary thing is, I do not think time is going to slow down anytime soon.
I want to write a letter to a certain person. Maybe I'd even get the guts to mail it. There are so many things I'd like to say to them... so many things... but the thing is, I don't think that person would reply to my letter. I think they'd throw it away unread. Or rip it into shreds with their bare hands or a paper shredder. Or use it to line their rabbit's or their ferret's cage or their cat's litter box. Basically, this person would not give me the time of day... but maybe they would. Who knows?
It's your birthday. I could find you, wish you a good day somehow. I could send you a card, but I doubt you'd open it. Remember four years ago on your birthday? I took you out, I bought you presents, I took good care of you. I would take good care of you all the time... I would be your best friend. But you are like me... you shove aside those who love you and you keep close the ones who hate you. Maybe that's why I have a soft spot for you... because you are just like me inside.
Sometimes I really want to bash people, to rant about certain people. But it's unfair. I want to act completely un-Christian. There are some people I'd like to meet in the store or in a random public place, so I could give them a piece of my mind. So I could scream at them. So I could shake them and make them understand how stupid and thoughtless and self-centered they are. But it's unfair. Because I am not perfect. I am not a judge. I can't make judgments about others and how they are. I don't know them.
Not that many days left in July... only one, as a matter of fact. I keep dreaming about the same person. Sometimes he kisses me. Sometimes he tells me things that I can never remember when I wake up. Sometimes he just holds me and other times, all he does is look at me. I never really approach him, as I would have in dreams in the past. In these dreams, I treat him the way I used to treat him in reality. Not cruelly, but not warmly, either. I think my subconscious is rather bored of him. Oh well.
The last day of July. Tomorrow is August already and for some reason, it feels like this summer has gone by faster than any summer I have ever had in my entire life. Most summers have dragged on by because I was out of school and I didn't have a job to pass the time. For some reason, this summer feels like it's been the quickest, because I've constantly been busy with something. I don't know if I like the feeling of two months rushing by without saying hardly a goodbye or a hello. But they'll only go faster, supposedly.
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