July 16, 2007

People that make me think (GOOD THING)

So while wandering the twisted corridors of my mind I came across a memory of a person's words that made me think. In a good way. A productive way. In a-Heather-there’s-life-outside-your-fucking-head way. Obvious, no? I guess you could say I'm a bit of a dreamer. But believe it or not I used to be *very* closed. I never let anyone in for fear of getting hurt. But because of that I was pretty much brutalized by an event in my life that still makes me cringe to recall it. Because of that I became too open. My life story literally pours out of my mouth like verbal vomit when ever any one asks a simple question. Or at least it used to. I've learned to manage it a bit more but I still just lay everything out on the table, but I think I prefer it that way. I am not one for mind games. If I feel something, I'd rather say it.

But, of course, there is an exception to this: “liking” someone.

If some one likes me, and I don't return the feelings it is very hard for me to just come out and say it. I’d much rather disappear. Keep in mind this has only happened a handful amount of times BUT it happened. Also if I like someone… ohhhh brother. I turn in to a wreck.. As you can tell from my previous blogs, I am so very shy when it comes to this. I can talk to anyone about anything EXCEPT this. I am terrified of being that vulnerable. Rejection scares the shit out of me (in that sense). Why oh why do boys no longer approach females? If they do it’s usually not for a date it’s usually for “wham, bam, thank you mam”. I can’t do that. I feel far to much. Besides, sex is better when there is *some* type of emotion behind it. At least for me.

Anyway, back to people that make me think. I love them. Your mind can never grow if you don’t challenge it. It’s taken a bit but I now understand that when people challenge, it’s different than attacking. I used to get all uppity and sensitive now I just try and recall my facts (they tend to fly in and out of my brain with the fervor of a bat on speed) and hold my own.

Ah words. Sometimes they explode out of me. (for serious)

Yes, words explode out of me. I'll be sitting there, all unsuspecting like and then BAM! A random order of words comes to mind and I *must* right them down or else they'll slip back their homes in mind and will never again come together in the same order. Here's one I did copying down on a napkin and eventually transfer to a word doc:

Let me choose my shade from you
Deliciously dark black and memories of blue
Seemingly serpentine
Glowering over the illustrious sheen
That was once my love for you.

Cheesy? Perhaps. Dramatic? Definitely. But I happen to like it. These periods of explosive creativity have definitely waned. It used to happen at least once a day. But now I'm lucky if it occurs once a month. And it's killing me. I hate not being able to transfer my thoughts to paper or even type them out. It’s really been the only thing I did that helps release some of the madness in my mind.

I like to think of my mind like a library. If it get disorganized (which it is right now) I can not find a damn thing. Then things begin to pile up and finding anything becomes a chore and near impossible. This is what makes me shy. It frustrates me to no end that I can not recall key facts that will back up my story. Hell or even events that happen in a story I’m trying to tell. Then I get flustered and try and back pedal to try and remember just where the fuck I read said fact while the person I’m trying to debate with immediately thinks I’m making it up or knows nothing due to my sputtering and pauses. I wish I could remember even just a tiny bit of what I absorb. I will spend all day reading something and can’t recall a fucking thing. Grrrrrr. Ok well I believe this strange blurb shall be the blog for the day. I will try and write more on a daily basis if only for my sanity and maybe for those that come across it.

Also THINK OF ALL THE STORIES THAT HAVE BEEN LOST!!! - Tracking a Vanished Civilization

June 27, 2007

Rational vs irrational

Ok, so I figure I’m divided in two (insert cheesy Gemini jokes here). The rational part of me and the irrational part (ie.: mess). Unfortunately the irrational has a firm hold on me as of late. So much so that fricken EYE CONTACT has become a chore. For example, a couple of months ago a guy in one of my classes tried to strike up a conversation with me while waiting for the bus. Not flirting or anything, just talking. For about 5 mins everything was going fantastically. No sputtering, no snorting, no hysterical giggles and none of me trying to ignore him for fear of… well I don’t know exactly I’m afraid of but it’s terrifying enough to have me running, literally. Because sadly, that’s what ended up happening.

I ran.

Yes, you’re reading correctly. I actually ran away from him. On to the bus, far in to the back while my rational and irrational parts of my brain were duking it out.

Rational: What the fuck was that?

Irrational: OMG OMG OMG he may sit back here. OMG OMG

Rational: So?

Irrational: Than I’d have to talk to him again.

Rational: And this is bad because……?

Irrational: Because!! What if I have something on my face? Or what if he secretly thinks I’m incredibly ugly and is silently making fun of me? OMG I can feel my rolls move every time we go over a bump!

Rational: You’re a fucking moron. Who cares what he thinks? As long as you’re happy nothing else matters. If you’re so concerned with you weight than why not DO something about it?

Irrational: I’m going to start jogging as soon as I get new running shoes!

Rational: Suuuuure. And than you’ll need new clothes, than another excuse and another. Just fucking do it!

Irrational: I will!

Rational: You haven’t yet and been bitching for years.

Irrational: Fuck you!

Rational: You do realize that you have no argument and are just extremely lazy right?

Irrational: *gives silent treatment*

Rational: I wish I could punch you in the face.

Yeah. So that’s my head. And guess what kiddies, it’s ALWAYS turned on. I KNOW that I’m acting completely absurd. I know that when I ignore a guy that is actually looking at me with interest, it’s my loss. Every time I try and even just *smile* at a guy that’s looking at me I feel like there’s a butterfly in my stomach with a AK47 and the voice which sounds astoundingly like my mouth turns on and any self assurance I had is floundering out the window. So I keep walking, head down, headphones on and my rational side just begging me to do SOMETHING. But no, I become shy and awkward and get down on myself. That may be the saddest thing of all. No one cares, but apparently the fact that I do outweighs the entire fucking world.

Why am I writing this here?

Well 2 selfish reasons really. 1. In case anyone else there feels like this and thinks they’re fucking nuts (which I do think I’m fucking nuts) you’re not alone. 2. To show people that YES I know what you’re about to say. “Heather who cares what anyone thinks?” I DON’T KNOW!!!! I’m trying to not care. Really. Than some one with incredible self confidence walks up and I’m ready to jump in to traffic just to get away from them.

Rational: Cue psycho music.

Quiet you!!

I am working on it. I am a work in progress. I DID go jogging last night and plan on trying to do it tomorrow morning. Yes I know that I need to learn self-discipline. I’m working on it.

One of these days my rational side is going to kick my irrational side to the curb, and it’s going to be fucking awesome.

ps. This is an old post I never put up. I shall be writing a new one by the end of this week. Don't give me that look, I've been busy.

May 15, 2007

Intro to Chaos

Ok so this is not my first blog. No, no for I am the Queen of starting things and never finishing.

Don’t even try and argue that you are, in fact, the actual King or Queen of lack of follow through because well, it’s not exactly a title one should strive for. But since this is my blog I will give myself that title because it is sadly one of my many, and I will reign henceforth.

Also to prove my point - how many of you have actually started a blog, than forgot about it, than wrote in it once more to make sure the account still existed, than left it for another year only to find that your account had indeed been deleted. Yeah…ok so maybe a lot of you have but damn it enough about you for this is a blog dedicated to muah!

This is also a case and point of something I will probably write quite frequently about. Caring far too much of what other people think of me. I would love to say that everyone does it but unfortunately I have met the few that could really not give a flying fuck what anyone thought of them. They always seem to be followed around by this strange spineless mass of jelly quivering behind them… oh dear. That would be me.

If you recoiled while reading that last bit and thought “Dear God she’s mean to herself, no wonder she has no self-confidence” well yes. Exactly. I am my own bully. Although sometimes I am convinced it’s really my mother trying to control me mentally because she has some super power that I know nothing of… besides the fact that she can render even the most patient person into a shaking mass of rage while contemplating where to hide her body. Ah, I digress.

The blog. THIS blog. This will *hopefully* become some sort of solace. Yes, solace. I love to write and my internal dialogue loves to talk so I thought what the hell why not write it for the world to see…like every other blogger on the planet. This may be a bit different, but since I don’t read that many blogs, it may be exactly the same. I’m about to journey in to madness. And this blog will be about my wholehearted attempts to stop that. It will also include the slithy toves and borogoves of my mind.


Yes, madness. Another psychotic episode. Another what-the-fuck-is-she-doing-OMG-WTF-is-she-doing- someone-lock-her-in-her-room-before-she-runs-screaming-down-the street-again-episode. For you see I am beginning to lose the grasp on reality.

“Oh you’re just being dramatic.”

Yes, I am dramatic but how normal is talking to yourself in public and thinking you’re in a movie and that random bystanders have lines they’re supposed to say to you in order propel you forward? Or hallucinations of people that aren’t there and creatures that don’t exist or voices telling you that not only do you suck, but your ass looks like one of those stress-relief balls - squishy and always the same size no matter how much you squeeze it.

Don’t fret. I’m not the killer sort of crazy. The voices aren’t telling me to do anything to other people… yet (insert nervous laugh here). And my loving “friends” have told me to start asking for change.

But seriously, if all the world’s a stage, mine has become a fucked up drama with totally tasteless humor and a fantastical taste for the weird.

Today is a medium day. Ah, my scale. There’s highs, there’s lows and yes, least of all there’s the medium, the middle if you will. These days are few and far in between, Although, I am quite perky right now so in actuality it’s probably a high day. Yes, definitely high. I just went to get lunch and actually spoke to a boy with out 1. running away 2. spitting 3. snorting 4. and I ACTUALLY smiled.

Medusa’s nipples that’s out of character for me.

(Hey, think about it. If you saw Medusa, would you really look at her nipples? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Easy decision. Eyes = stone. Tits=wtf who knew they could have scales.)


You may be reading this (hooray if you got this far) and thinking. “This totally isn’t real”. And my question to you dear reader is:

Is any of it?