YOU'RE ONLY FUNNY SOMETIMES.
I get tired of using my pitty laugh.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Happy Milk Day.
It sucks that my lactose intolerant friends cannot fight for civil liberties. They're so intolerant.
It's been months since my last post on here, but I feel like this is my only escape. Everyone is on all of the other social networking sites, so I can't write my anger, pain, frustration, or sadness without seeming like "woe is me" because no one will read this.
So here THIS IS. Away from many eyes.
I love my job, but I guess it's that or friends. Quite frankly, Disneyland will always be here. Friends come and go. If I could get over my pride, maybe I'd plan something with people from school, try and contact them, since no one ever thinks to do so for me. I'm hoping they just assume that I have work, which is why no one asks me. Uck. Sorry, Blogspot. This sounds so lame.
My apartment smells like poop.
The only person I see anymore is my roommate, Angela.
I am free all day.
I miss Drew. I wish I was with him now.
It's been months since my last post on here, but I feel like this is my only escape. Everyone is on all of the other social networking sites, so I can't write my anger, pain, frustration, or sadness without seeming like "woe is me" because no one will read this.
So here THIS IS. Away from many eyes.
I love my job, but I guess it's that or friends. Quite frankly, Disneyland will always be here. Friends come and go. If I could get over my pride, maybe I'd plan something with people from school, try and contact them, since no one ever thinks to do so for me. I'm hoping they just assume that I have work, which is why no one asks me. Uck. Sorry, Blogspot. This sounds so lame.
My apartment smells like poop.
The only person I see anymore is my roommate, Angela.
I am free all day.
I miss Drew. I wish I was with him now.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Hearts Like Candy
He rode in on a horse he stole from the last town he was in. He’s been here now for almost two years and the townsfolk seemed to have taken a liking to him immediately. Even I was rather fond of him at first, despite the stories I began to hear and despite the fact that his horse was undoubtedly stolen property.
He was good at his work and he helped others who worked alongside him. Pretty soon he moved up to a position where he lead the others, and everyone admired him, or so I thought.
Under his supervision and guidance, I learned many things. He was charming, funny, and above all else, a hard worker. At one point in time, I wanted to be like him, or the next best thing, his friend.
But if you investigate his wooden house surrounded by a giant fence, you will find many rooms and locked closets. You will also find that the large fence houses many horses he had stolen from previous towns. I wonder what he keeps in the closet. It shouldn’t matter, this was his past! He doesn’t steal horses now, not when he’s so well-liked by everyone above and below him! He wouldn’t have the position that he has today if he continued his thievery.
When I heard the first whisper, it most certainly wasn’t the last. I didn’t hear them enough though because they had no effect on me. I stopped peering over his fenced-in horses and I proceeded to work alongside him as often as possible.
I felt that he admired me too. He was always so helpful and kind. It was also quite refreshing to be complimented by him. I thought it meant something. It made me want to be in his presence outside of work! “What friends we could be,” I thought.
When the moment I had secretly longed for arrived, it brought chills down my body and a shakiness in my throat. He had asked me to accompany him home, so I could see his horses. The whispers then grew vines and wrapped themselves around me. He had to have seen them, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t show off stolen property, that just wouldn’t be wise! Therefore, the whispers must be false. I was going to see the real man behind these whispers, not anyone else.
After we worked, he picked me up in his elegant carriage, lead by a beautiful horse. He grabbed my hand to let me in and took notice of how I had fashioned my hair that day.
“You look really nice,” he softly spoke.
On the way to his wooden house, we conversed about our favorite things, our families, and work. He entertained me with jokes and I laughed. He twirled his finger in my hair while he talked about how lucky he is to have the job that he does.
When we arrived at his house, the neighbors all ran inside and peered behind their windows. The whispers seized me once more and I began to sweat. His horses sounded restless and I nearly screamed when he asked, “are you okay, little one?”
Silence. All at once, the neighbors blew out their candles and went to bed. The small town became smaller, and I felt alone.
He opened his door for me and I walked inside. It was decorated minimally, but the smell was quite alluring. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it made me relax. He sat me on a couch adjacent to a long, dark hallway and said, “excuse me for a moment, will you? I promise I will return shortly! I could never leave your side for too long.” And before I answered, he was swept off into the dark. I let my eyes adjust to the darker house and I looked around. I saw hung photos of himself and the people we work with. Everyone was smiling. No, wait. No one was smiling. The whispers, they were back. Only, this time, they were harsh. Almost like hisses. I couldn’t tell what they were saying! I looked frantically about until my eyes caught hold of all the doors in the dark hallway. Each one was locked save for one.
“I’ll just be another moment!” He shouted from a distance. “I apologize, I’ve got to clear a path to my backyard! So many documents and things in the way, I’d hate for a beautiful girl like you to ever get hurt!”
That gave me time to briskly walk to the unlocked door. This would be the answer to all the whispers, this would be their end. I grabbed the door knob and slowly turned. Inside was an even darker room, so I stared for a bit. When my eyes adjusted, I saw glass jars. Shelves and shelves of glass jars. In the center of the room there were a pile of saddles, hats, boots, and one empty glass jar atop it all. What were they all for? Were they all empty? I glanced again. No, they weren’t. The jars each had a picture inside and something else. I moved into the room, breathing heavily. All of the pictures were of women. They were all so beautiful. What was most strange is that I had recognized these women. I used to see them at work! I was right away reminded of whispers with their names in them. Yes, they all had gone to the next town for work! But why? And what else did these jars contain? I picked one up to examine it more closely when I heard a noise behind me. It was him.
“Do you hate me, little one? For what you’ve just seen?” He was right behind me in the doorway, holding a candle and a kinfe.
I dropped the jar and it shattered at my feet. The contents were then illuminated by the candle and I saw everything. The photo of a women and her heart.
The empty jar in the center of the room was for me. “Leave! Leave!” I heard the whispers loud and clear.
“Do you hate me? I’m so sorry you had to see this,” he said quietly and he sheathed his knife.
“No…I don’t hate you. I just don’t believe…”
“Please don’t tell anyone! I really want everyone to like me! I’d like to do great things at work! Don’t you see, this would ruin me and everything I’m working towards!” He walked towards me.
“Of course,” I swallowed my fear.
He put his hand on my cheek, “now, shall we see my horses? They’d love to meet a sweet girl like you.”
Seeing the magnificent creatures roam his backyard did not make me happy like I had imagined. He stole them. He stole them and moved to another town where he could steal more. And that’s not all. He stole girls’ hearts like they were candy and mine was on his list. Not a hint of remorse was on his face, nor was he aware of the whispers in the wind. And if he was aware, would he apologize? Would he apologize to all that he wronged? Would he give the women back their hearts and return the horses to their rightful owners? I suppose the only question on his mind, besides “who’s heart next,” was “what would become of me if people outed me”.
That jar was intended for me that night, but I left before it could be filled. I kept his secret just like everyone else though. A part of me wants to see his heart in a jar on a shelf. Another part of me wants to see justice; justice for those who endured loss and might be next. And a small part of me holds onto the notion that he might change, or that maybe, because I left unscathed, that I saw the real man.
My only strength lies in the whispers, and a lot of good they do.
He was good at his work and he helped others who worked alongside him. Pretty soon he moved up to a position where he lead the others, and everyone admired him, or so I thought.
Under his supervision and guidance, I learned many things. He was charming, funny, and above all else, a hard worker. At one point in time, I wanted to be like him, or the next best thing, his friend.
But if you investigate his wooden house surrounded by a giant fence, you will find many rooms and locked closets. You will also find that the large fence houses many horses he had stolen from previous towns. I wonder what he keeps in the closet. It shouldn’t matter, this was his past! He doesn’t steal horses now, not when he’s so well-liked by everyone above and below him! He wouldn’t have the position that he has today if he continued his thievery.
When I heard the first whisper, it most certainly wasn’t the last. I didn’t hear them enough though because they had no effect on me. I stopped peering over his fenced-in horses and I proceeded to work alongside him as often as possible.
I felt that he admired me too. He was always so helpful and kind. It was also quite refreshing to be complimented by him. I thought it meant something. It made me want to be in his presence outside of work! “What friends we could be,” I thought.
When the moment I had secretly longed for arrived, it brought chills down my body and a shakiness in my throat. He had asked me to accompany him home, so I could see his horses. The whispers then grew vines and wrapped themselves around me. He had to have seen them, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t show off stolen property, that just wouldn’t be wise! Therefore, the whispers must be false. I was going to see the real man behind these whispers, not anyone else.
After we worked, he picked me up in his elegant carriage, lead by a beautiful horse. He grabbed my hand to let me in and took notice of how I had fashioned my hair that day.
“You look really nice,” he softly spoke.
On the way to his wooden house, we conversed about our favorite things, our families, and work. He entertained me with jokes and I laughed. He twirled his finger in my hair while he talked about how lucky he is to have the job that he does.
When we arrived at his house, the neighbors all ran inside and peered behind their windows. The whispers seized me once more and I began to sweat. His horses sounded restless and I nearly screamed when he asked, “are you okay, little one?”
Silence. All at once, the neighbors blew out their candles and went to bed. The small town became smaller, and I felt alone.
He opened his door for me and I walked inside. It was decorated minimally, but the smell was quite alluring. I couldn’t tell what it was, but it made me relax. He sat me on a couch adjacent to a long, dark hallway and said, “excuse me for a moment, will you? I promise I will return shortly! I could never leave your side for too long.” And before I answered, he was swept off into the dark. I let my eyes adjust to the darker house and I looked around. I saw hung photos of himself and the people we work with. Everyone was smiling. No, wait. No one was smiling. The whispers, they were back. Only, this time, they were harsh. Almost like hisses. I couldn’t tell what they were saying! I looked frantically about until my eyes caught hold of all the doors in the dark hallway. Each one was locked save for one.
“I’ll just be another moment!” He shouted from a distance. “I apologize, I’ve got to clear a path to my backyard! So many documents and things in the way, I’d hate for a beautiful girl like you to ever get hurt!”
That gave me time to briskly walk to the unlocked door. This would be the answer to all the whispers, this would be their end. I grabbed the door knob and slowly turned. Inside was an even darker room, so I stared for a bit. When my eyes adjusted, I saw glass jars. Shelves and shelves of glass jars. In the center of the room there were a pile of saddles, hats, boots, and one empty glass jar atop it all. What were they all for? Were they all empty? I glanced again. No, they weren’t. The jars each had a picture inside and something else. I moved into the room, breathing heavily. All of the pictures were of women. They were all so beautiful. What was most strange is that I had recognized these women. I used to see them at work! I was right away reminded of whispers with their names in them. Yes, they all had gone to the next town for work! But why? And what else did these jars contain? I picked one up to examine it more closely when I heard a noise behind me. It was him.
“Do you hate me, little one? For what you’ve just seen?” He was right behind me in the doorway, holding a candle and a kinfe.
I dropped the jar and it shattered at my feet. The contents were then illuminated by the candle and I saw everything. The photo of a women and her heart.
The empty jar in the center of the room was for me. “Leave! Leave!” I heard the whispers loud and clear.
“Do you hate me? I’m so sorry you had to see this,” he said quietly and he sheathed his knife.
“No…I don’t hate you. I just don’t believe…”
“Please don’t tell anyone! I really want everyone to like me! I’d like to do great things at work! Don’t you see, this would ruin me and everything I’m working towards!” He walked towards me.
“Of course,” I swallowed my fear.
He put his hand on my cheek, “now, shall we see my horses? They’d love to meet a sweet girl like you.”
Seeing the magnificent creatures roam his backyard did not make me happy like I had imagined. He stole them. He stole them and moved to another town where he could steal more. And that’s not all. He stole girls’ hearts like they were candy and mine was on his list. Not a hint of remorse was on his face, nor was he aware of the whispers in the wind. And if he was aware, would he apologize? Would he apologize to all that he wronged? Would he give the women back their hearts and return the horses to their rightful owners? I suppose the only question on his mind, besides “who’s heart next,” was “what would become of me if people outed me”.
That jar was intended for me that night, but I left before it could be filled. I kept his secret just like everyone else though. A part of me wants to see his heart in a jar on a shelf. Another part of me wants to see justice; justice for those who endured loss and might be next. And a small part of me holds onto the notion that he might change, or that maybe, because I left unscathed, that I saw the real man.
My only strength lies in the whispers, and a lot of good they do.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
All The Love's About
Awhile back, a student was attacked in a Cal Sate Long Beach bathroom.
About a month ago, two girls were brutally beaten near the campus of Cal State Fullerton.
In the last 5 weeks, there have been a reported 8 suicides due to gender and homosexual bullying.
I have personally met the person who was attacked at Cal State Long Beach, who was attacked merely for being an intersex individual. He was on break from his class when a man in a hoodie shoved him into a stall and carved “IT” into his chest. The student did not know this man, nor did he do anything to deserve this hate crime. That is a dehuminizing act that will literally leave a scar.
The two girls who were beat up near Cal State Fullerton were beat up because they were “lesbian”. To make it more interesting, they weren’t lesbian. Because of these false assumptions and judgment, two innocent girls were beaten to a pulp.
These acts don’t just happen in places like the south or Midwest United States (where people are stereotyped to be small-minded), or in other countries where homosexuality is a crime. It happens here in Southern California. It’s everywhere.
1 in 4 homosexual or intersex individuals commit suicide due to harassment. There is an increase in alcohol and drug abuse amongst homosexual communities.
These numbers can decrease if people put on a “gendered lens”. The choices other people make are not for us to judge or discriminate against.
Last but not least, I’d like to encourage people to stop using “gay” with negative connotation behind it. There are plenty of other words I can supply you with if you’d like.
Live and Let Love.
About a month ago, two girls were brutally beaten near the campus of Cal State Fullerton.
In the last 5 weeks, there have been a reported 8 suicides due to gender and homosexual bullying.
I have personally met the person who was attacked at Cal State Long Beach, who was attacked merely for being an intersex individual. He was on break from his class when a man in a hoodie shoved him into a stall and carved “IT” into his chest. The student did not know this man, nor did he do anything to deserve this hate crime. That is a dehuminizing act that will literally leave a scar.
The two girls who were beat up near Cal State Fullerton were beat up because they were “lesbian”. To make it more interesting, they weren’t lesbian. Because of these false assumptions and judgment, two innocent girls were beaten to a pulp.
These acts don’t just happen in places like the south or Midwest United States (where people are stereotyped to be small-minded), or in other countries where homosexuality is a crime. It happens here in Southern California. It’s everywhere.
1 in 4 homosexual or intersex individuals commit suicide due to harassment. There is an increase in alcohol and drug abuse amongst homosexual communities.
These numbers can decrease if people put on a “gendered lens”. The choices other people make are not for us to judge or discriminate against.
Last but not least, I’d like to encourage people to stop using “gay” with negative connotation behind it. There are plenty of other words I can supply you with if you’d like.
Live and Let Love.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
I'm in over my head.
How do I know it's right? Will I be happy? Is this the right size? There's no going back now, nor is there any way of doing this without hurting someone.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Forgive my Words...
But God dammit! OVER A MONTH AGO, I asked for 4 days off because I’m going to South Carolina for Drew’s graduation. The status of my request was to check back on the 19th.
What’s today? The 19th. I check the status and what does it say?
DENY.
WHAT THE FUCK? YOU’RE THE BIGGEST FUCKING COMPANY IN THE WORLD, FIND SOMEONE ELSE! I’M GOING TO SWITCH ANYWAY! AND IF I CAN’T SWITCH? I’M CALLING OFF SICK, BITCHES.
Give me the points, I don’t give a fuck. My plane tickets were purchased OVER A MONTH AGO.
Thanks a lot.
Whew. Sorry about all that!
What’s today? The 19th. I check the status and what does it say?
DENY.
WHAT THE FUCK? YOU’RE THE BIGGEST FUCKING COMPANY IN THE WORLD, FIND SOMEONE ELSE! I’M GOING TO SWITCH ANYWAY! AND IF I CAN’T SWITCH? I’M CALLING OFF SICK, BITCHES.
Give me the points, I don’t give a fuck. My plane tickets were purchased OVER A MONTH AGO.
Thanks a lot.
Whew. Sorry about all that!
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