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I'm participating in Camp NaNoWriMo this month with my lowest word count yet. Funny. I don't really have much time, inclination, or inspiration to write these days. I don't have any ideas. Back when I was in high school and college, I used to get good ideas all the time, but now it seems like they're few and far between. Oh, well. I guess inspiration will return. Or else I am tired with the NaNoWriMo model -- rush through your first draft. I want to take time. I want to edit as I write and not feel bad about it.
My hair is the longest it has ever been in my life (I think) and I am in serious need of a haircut. But I hate haircuts for the reason that I hate most social interactions: the small talk.
Now I feel like I am whining (yet again), so I'll shut up and talk about something boring, like all the rain we have had lately. Farmers are saying that it's hurting the crops because they're getting too much water. At least there is an end in sight to the rain this coming weekend. Now that's something to be happy about.
I feel like I should start writing my words in Hatebook instead of here; most of the time it seems like I'm complaining about some perceived injustice. You know how people in general can never be supremely happy? The rich guy has all the money in the world, the big house, the car, the hot wife, the obedient kids, the great job... and he's still not happy. He still wants more. Why do people have to constantly want more? I'm recognizing that same tendency in myself and it frustrates me. Uh, oh... there I go complaining again. Shut me up!
Fourth of July was uneventful. The fireworks where I live were postponed until Sunday, so it's going to be a little while before I get to see those. It should be fun, though. I managed to get something like 4,900 words written, which is more than what a lot of people write in a week, so I was satisfied with my goal. I have enough blog ideas to get me through next week. And I'm reading an incredibly depressing book called Blood Meridian (by Cormac McCarthy). Seriously. Don't read it unless you actually want to jump off a bridge.
Today is a good day because I woke up without any pain and I was in good health. Today is a good day because it's Friday and I'm going to be busy at work so the day will go by faster. Today is a good day because I have a family to come home to. Today is a good day because I have pets to love (and occasionally annoy the hell out of me). Today is a good day because I have a car that works and gets me to work. Today is a good day because traffic was light.
Perhaps I need to find a long list of prompts again. I used prompts for a few years (I think it was years) on this site, and it seemed like they helped me focus my posts instead of writing about the first random thing that came into my brain. And the first random thing that comes into my brain today is my fictional town, which I badly want to write about and spend more time with, but I am stuck in another fictional town that seems to hold me in its clutches. Kind of like Yoknapatawpha County, but not really.
I had a dream where I stole this woman's husband, had a kid with him, and she lived at our house as a maid while they were finalizing their divorce so the man could marry me. Part of the dream involved me being at some old middle school that they were going to rebuild, and the school was having its last prom. I went to the prom, but it was a wedding, but instead of a bouquet, I carried a little Chihuahua, which I let run around and destroy someone's window display (I think the wife of my groom's window).
I am a pretty conservative person, but I know of many people who make me look like a true progressive. Conservatives who dislike things simply for no other reason besides mindless bigotry and prejudice give the entire movement a bad name. You make us all look like we're backwards and old-fashioned and that we do things for no reason. I have reasons behind my conservative beliefs. Good, concrete reasons that I don't need the Bible to back me up on. The opposing side doesn't want to hear that the Bible is your only source. They want science, evidence, proof.
Last night, I dreamed about going away to military boot camp. I had packed my things (but *gasp* I forgot my lip gloss) and was waiting outside, and someone I knew from childhood but never ever see now came up to me and we were chatting. I have dreams like that quite often. Not about boot camp, but about childhood friends and talking to them and finding out what's happened to them in the years I haven't talked to them. Maybe there are some loose ends for me to tie up somewhere. Probably scattered around the four corners of earth.
What always pissed me off was that I couldn't look up and into his eyes. I wanted to see the expression his face, and I never could. If I had looked up, my glasses would have slid down my nose and I would only have been able to see a blur.
But if I had done things the normal way, it would have been worse because I would have gotten attached, and in the end, I wouldn't have been able to keep him anyway. I disappointed him as much as he disappointed me. That dumb, silly boy/man thing.
In school and at my old job, I was always one of the smartest people there. Now, at my new job, it feels like I've been cut down a level, so I've been erasing my pride and trying to go forward from there. It's always nice to feel like the smart person in the room, but at the same time, it can be tough because everyone looks up to you. It's not so easy being the "dumbest" person in the room either. Self-esteem and feelings are ephemeral and they should be removed from the more serious situations like work.
I think that American girls have been trained wrong. We are trained to wait for our prince charming and to search for someone who might "save" you or treat you like a princess. We are taught that, from books and movies, two people meet, have difficulties, then get together and stay happy together forever. That is not the case, and it's difficult to get that through the head of a teenage girl who has been brought up on fairy tales and fantasy. Guys are real people, not fairy tale princes. They have their own issues to work through as well.
I've stayed away from the Internet for a long time this week, and now I can't say that I see the point in staying on the Internet for any time longer than it takes to check email and read the news. It's all so wasteful. I would rather talk to someone face to face than do instant messaging or emailing or texting or Skyping. The falsity of the Internet is a bright glare over everything; people make up lives on the Internet. They only share what they want to share and they are never completely honest. You can't know someone.
Remind me never to listen to Seether again. When I was a junior and senior in high school, Seether was probably my first or second favorite band. Why? Because it was badass and emo and mopey. It also inspired a lot of not-so-badass, emo, and mopey poetry from me, all of which I should put in the paper shredder, but I haven't the heart to. It's still lying around my room in binders. When I think about even flipping through those binders I cringe. Yet I made the mistake of listening to Seether again last week. So whiny!
You know how, in the old Pokemon episodes, when Ash turned his hat around backwards (or sideways, can't remember which) that it meant he had his game face on? Well, when I put my hair back, that's when you know my game face is on. I concentrate better without all my hair in my face because if it's all over the place, I feel like some kind of metal singer. You know what I'm talking about -- like Norwegian death metal singers, with their lovely flaxen hair -- but anyway, my game face is on and I'm ready for Monday. Bring it.
I write about this a lot, probably because I find it endlessly fascinating. The human urge to reproduce. God said, "Be fruitful and multiply." It's hard to do that. Sex and all the emotional strings attached to it. I couldn't do things with any old person, although the longer you go without a relationship or without the hope of a relationship, the more desperate you get... and perhaps you start "seeing things" in people that you never would have looked twice at. Desperation? Or the human sex drive being its usual strong self? I am sorry, but I can't understand.
Something I wanted to rant about has just managed to escape me. Oh, yeah... whenever I write something that I really like and think is good, I do not get any comments or positive feedback. Yet, when I write something I think is utter crap, people like it and I get all kinds of compliments. Happens all the time. I don't know. Maybe I have a skewed perception of my own work. Or else I'm really bad at guessing what others are going to like. It doesn't matter that much... I am just glad that at least someone likes it.
If I became a mother, and I had the choice to either keep working or stay at home full-time and raise my baby, I don't know what I'd choose. But I fear that if I kept working, I'd be too busy at my job or the job would take precedence. Then again, I've never had a kid before, so I don't know how having a kid might change my life or my priorities or my perception of things. If I was a stay-at-home mom, it'd be easy. If I had idle time, I'd fill it with writing.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. I have realized this anew, while writing one of my stories that I have been working on for several years now. If my main character hears voices in her head (not because she's mentally ill, but because the voices are there through some kind of magic), does that mean she should eventually go insane? Like... end up in a mental institution? She would not able to be cured by medicine or by cognitive therapy because the voices are magically implanted into her head. So her mind would gradually waste away. Quite sad.
I'm reading Treasure Island, and it's reminding me of Pirates of the Caribbean (hey, I wonder if that's what they based PotC off of). In other news, I'm finally going somewhere for the summer... but I didn't feel like driving all the way to the beach. When you drive for ~2 hours for five days of the week, you really don't feel like going anywhere when the weekend comes. You want the fun to come to you, as cheesy as that sounds. And in other news, ex-boyfriend is still moping around in his room. Oh, well. It's his choice.
It's depressing to be with someone who isn't happy. Especially when nothing you can do will make that person feel better. I'm starting to realize that the people I tend to be friends with are not happy people. That's got to change. But then again, perhaps I'm not the happiest person in the world, either. I try to be cute and hyper and spontaneous (but the older I get, the more that fails), and I don't know if that comes across as happy or not. I know I can make some people laugh, not change their general state of mind.
I wonder if I will still listen to System of a Down when I'm 80 years old. Come to think of it, I wonder what kind of music will be popular then... for sure, the members of SoaD will be dead and gone (or at least incapacitated and incapable of making music anymore). I bet the popular music will more electronic. Like dubstep on crack or something. Or rock songs with super fast drums that are sped up by the computer. I don't have a problem with dubstep or electronic music, but it would be cool if classical came back.
I used to read short stories here and there. I mainly read the stories in those "Best American Short Stories" collections, and then I gave up. The stories were too literary for my simple mind, too difficult for me to understand or make sense out of. I couldn't relate to them. They all seemed to celebrate "diversity" -- taking place in different countries, or they were about wars, or about African Americans in the United States -- so it made me wonder what the literary value of a story about average Americans is... what about Honey Boo Boo? Is that not valuable?
I had a dream that I was dating a vampire, and he was really abusive and controlling. He sent me a message asking if I was ignoring him and I told him I wasn't. But in truth, I was. I was cheating on him with this other guy (not a werewolf, I swear) and thinking about leaving the vampire for this other guy. I was too afraid because I thought that the vampire might seriously injure or kill me. Can't remember what happened after that. I think I had the dream because I was looking at my brother's Magic cards.
I don't know what to think about relationships anymore. I used to believe in fairy tales and I used to think that there was a perfect person (a soul mate, per se) for everyone. Now I don't think so. Being single is seen as a terrible thing in today's society. I don't know why. It really ain't quite that bad. I don't have the time or incentive to get involved in a relationship. I don't pick the people I truly want to be with because I sell myself short. So I end up with someone who gets me mad. Gr.
Right before you go to sleep, that's when your mind is the clearest. You remember all the things you might have forgotten during the day (which is also annoying because you can't do anything about them). Then you start getting strange visions, and before you know it, you're off into dreamland and you're not coming out for another 8 hours (or whenever the alarm clock wakes you -- you might not be fortunate enough to get 8 full hours).
In other news... I am so far behind with writing today that it's not even funny. I'm going to catch up tomorrow.
The Internet is really slow, so this post might end up getting erased before it posts. I ought to remember to save a copy of it somewhere (not that it's anything good or especially profound) because losing even 100 words is a pain in the nether regions.
I had a very strange dream last night. Not sure what the meaning of it is in real life, and what it might say about me. Actually, I'm not even sure I should go into details here. Because now I don't remember them.
Whatever. At this point, I'm just rambling and nobody cares.
LinkedIn kinda gets on my nerves. It shows who viewed your profile and whose profile you've viewed... what everyone wishes Facebook would do. (I do believe you can have a nifty little thing called StatCounter on your Facebook that will give you the IP addresses of who visits your page, but it's not exactly the same as knowing the name of the person.) I hate how the Internet facilitates stalking or creeper-ing or any number of socially unacceptable acts. The Internet really requires people to use self-control or else you're stuck online all day with a numb mind.
I don't like how I keep having dreams about the same person all the time. I think that person is out of my life for good, but my subconscious keeps bringing her back like I have some unfinished business with her. Well, maybe my subconscious does, but I certainly don't. They say that the subconscious is supposed to hold all the memories you don't think you remember anymore. I think subconscious minds are a bit demented and delusional. All this Alice-in-Wonderland stuff that doesn't make sense when you look upon it in the harsh morning light of day.
Ugh. The site deleted my lovely entry that I spent so much time crafting... never mind. It was a horrible entry and I'm glad for a second chance. But I am copying and pasting this one to Notepad so I do not lose it!
The Pope said that he had no right to judge gay people. Yes, of course. He has echoed what the Catechism of the Catholic Church has always said: gay people should be accepted. Just like anyone and everyone else.
Why does everyone hate on the Catholic Church so much? It gets on my nerves.
Last day of July. The summer is pretty close to being over. No point in lamenting over that, I suppose.
I have nothing to write. My ex-boyfriend (remember him?) still plagues my mind from time to time. I'm still trying to excise him from my thoughts. I cannot bear to get a new boyfriend because it feels like I would be using him to get over the old one. So I guess I will wait in silence and in singleness for my ex to fade away. I hope this wait will be over soon. Ready to move on.
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