Boys Next Door

I just read the most INTENSE manga.

Have you ever read, or seen, something that was horrifying, depressing, shocking, beautiful, inspiring, all at once, but was still good? I just did. And by "good", I definitely don't mean that it left me with inspiring, happy feelings. I mean that it blew my mind. I can't decide if it's a horror story, or a love story, or a psychological teaser, or... what.

It's a manga titled "Boys Next Door." It's one volume, only three chapters, but the story is so well told I feel I've just lived an entire lifetime. It follows the love affair of two men; Adrian is living a double life: he's a kind-hearted teacher helping abandoned children during the day, and during the night he's a serial killer. Lawrence is a male prostitute.

It opens at the climax, and then quickly rewinds to show the steps that led to the critical point. There are a lot of flashbacks because the past is a crucial part of the present. The plot is as full of twists and turns as a labyrinth, moving forward quickly. The characters are twisted and complex. The art! It's gorgeous, dark and grotesque, lush and haunting. The layout is perfect. A starved sort of beauty.

If you don't want to read something unsettling, don't read this. If you're homophobic or have a problem with yaoi, don't read this. If you don't like bloody stories, don't read this. But if you want something intense, something that'll play with your mind, something that'll take you on an emotional and mental rollercoaster, something that'll make you think and question, then read it. Devour it. Sit down some afternoon with a cup of coffee and a teddy bear and chug it in one feel swoop. And when you're done with it, don't do anything. Just sit there. Sit there and let it simmer in your mind so you can get the full flavor of it.

"Cook me for a day and night... make me into stew. Afterwards, suck my bones clean. When my entire body has been eaten by you, I can finally become your flesh and blood. Then... I'll belong entirely to you..."

Read Boys Next Door

Meet the World

One night I had a conversation with myself. I was lying there in the dark in my room, thinking about the future (as I usually am), and I thought, "I think I'm afraid of the world."

So I asked myself, "What are you going to do about it?"

I am going out to meet the world head on. No more flinching or hesitating or avoiding. I am going to (as Nike says) just do it. I am going to be unflinchingly honest and stop caring what people/colleges/employers think of me as a person. If they don't like my views, too bad for them.

I think perfectionism (and procrastination as well) is a shield. You go around pretending that you're not getting anything done because "it isn't ready yet" or "it's not perfect yet". I say, no cigar. Sugar. Bueno. Whatever. No whatever.

There's no right way to get through life, so does it really matter which way you go about it?  So what if you fail? You have to fail a lot before you ever succeed, and since you learn from failures, the more you fail, the smarter you get.

This all sounds great, but the truth is it's hard to remember when I'm actually out there.

A Tarot Sign

I was sitting at Avanti's, waiting for my pizza and looking for a pen in my bag, when my hand fell upon my pack of tarot cards. I paused. I had forgotten that they were in there; they were in a side pocket that is rather inconspicuous if you're not looking for it. It felt like my hand wanted to stay there, wrapped around the cards; so, I pulled the pack out. I put my hand into the plastic baggy I keep my cards in, and my fingers were drawn to a card in the middle of the deck. I pulled it out.

It was a major arcana. Judgment.

I didn't know the exact meaning, but it felt significant nonetheless. I stared at it. It has a painting of an angelic creature on it, blowing a trumpet. When I got back to the dorm, I looked the exact meaning up.

It's a challenge.

The judgement is the moment where you're supposed to face your past; not just face it, but resurrect it, forgive it, and put it to rest. In other words, there's something I have to do. Something I've been putting off. I can guess what it is well enough, but whether I admit it or not is another matter entirely.

Spartan Beauty

I've been thinking a lot about being poor, which sounds strange when I say it.

What started it was reading Holly's  Black's Modern Faerie Tale series and listening to an interview with her saying how she wanted to keep the gritty realism of life in her books. The characters in her books are mostly poor. The only one I can think of who isn't is Val, but she doesn't count. She and her mother are probably middle class, but Val runs away and lives on the streets. Dave, Lolli, and Luis all live on the streets, too. Kaye and her mother move from apartment to apartment, frequently living with her mother's friends and boyfriends. Kaye works to help support them until she decides to stay with her grandmother. Corny lives in a trailer park and works at a gas station. Roiben lives under a hill of dirt, and he starts out as a slave to the fairy queen.

Part of what I love about these books is that the characters sort of "rise above" their circumstances. Not that they become noble, self-sacrificing martyrs; they're real, honest human beings who do their best and don't let where they came from determine who they become.

The other thing that got me thinking about this was reading about Hayao Miyazaki. I've become obsessed with his movies lately, and I read that his films pay hommage to the working class. Most of his characters have a honest determination about them that comes from having to work to earn their keep. In my favorite film of his, Spirited Away, Chihiro has to learn to work hard as a coming-of-age process.

There's something vulnerable, a wild beauty, about being a part of the poor working class. Maybe it's because life is simpler, less clouded with high-and-mighty morals. Maybe it's because there's a humility there that lets us all be real.

Her Name is Chi

And she is me.

Or at least, she's loosely based on me. Granted, she's a little thinner, and her hair is longer. She has super thick hair down to her waist, and it's always going everywhere. She has my brown eyes with fantastic eyebrows and my adorable button nose. She's got my olive skin tone and wide hips. Like me, she wears only black. She's a lesbian, like me, and loves coffee. She's a sarcastic geek with quirky habits.

She is a barista, working in the world of Tithe, Valiant, and Ironside. I'm writing a fanfiction for that series. It's a few years after the events of Ironside, and Chi is an employee at Kaye's coffee/book shop, Moon in a Cup. Everything is normal.

Then a woman charges into the shop, interrogates and curses Chi, and leaves.

What? But why? When Corny (now called almost exclusively "Neil"), Kaye, and Chi seek answers, Chi's curse is quickly lifted, but it leaves behind more questions. The woman was working for someone; who? Why did she curse Chi? Where are the disappearing fey going? Who wants Kaye, and why? Why is Chi missing her memories? Will Corny and Luis get back together? Will Kaye and Chi end up together? (No. They won't. Kaye is already paired with Roiben.)

Oops. A spoiler. Which is fine, since that what readers would have expected anyway. The real mystery is what's in store for Chi.

I have the whole story plotted out. It's going to be novel length, maybe a little bit short. I've been working on it. I won't be able to work on it this week because I have tests, but I'm hoping for next week. I absolutely refuse to post any of it until I have the whole thing done. This is just in case a) I turn into a slacker and never get it done (don't want people to enjoy the first few chapters, only to be disappointed that they'll never know how it ends), and b) so I don't end up having to fix plot holes in the early chapters as I write the later ones.

So that's what up. Just felt like writing a quick post about it, I guess.

Crazy Things

My, my. The things I write at 2:30 in the morning. I churned out this after reading the first few chapters of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance saturday night.

"So. Say I'm crazy. Say we're all difference kinds of crazy, and "normal" is merely the reigning madness. What does that mean for us?
"What kind of person am I? What's my crazy?
"I'm always going to be questioning, looking at the world through an unusual ontological lens. I will always be searching for myself, and my curse is that I will never find myself. And in the spirit of searching, I will always be challenging other people, poking holes in the way they see things, in who they are.
"How do other people see their own existences? Do you think they recognize the crazy, or do they catalogue everything into a mental system to keep themselves comfortable? They've got so much one-size-fits-all slang so they don't have to look too closely at anything; they can just slap a label on it and laugh. And they blink, like Nietzsche's last men. They have no focus.
"What is meaning to them? What is life or identity, or even intelligence? They think with cheap copies of ideas, mistaking them for reality. Nobody questions.
"What place does "crazy" have in this madness?"

Tarot Reading 22 January 2012

The Tower: a sudden realization, a rude awakening, sudden and uncomfortable disclosure of truth
Five of Swords: a conflict, possibly spiritual
The Stars: an aquarian card that looks to the future; hope and healing, the reassurance that there are resources to help you

Otaku Wench?

I've always been a fantasy/sci-fi fan; anime was just too weird, and I never looked too far in to it. But one night while my sister was cruising the netflix instant plays, Howl's Moving Castle appeared. I don't know why she picked it. She thinks anime is even weirder than I do. When I told her she had to try watching Avatar: The Last Airbender, she was suspicious of it because it was an animated tv show, and she thought it would be anime. Why would she willingly choose to watch a movie that I told her was anime? I don't know.

But she did. And I watched it with her, and I loved it.

My god. What is this black sorcery?! Why is this so addictive?! I've now watched Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, Spirited Away, Howl's Moving Castle, and My Neighbor Totoro. I loved all of them, except the first one, which I merely liked. Next I'm thinking of watching Princess Mononoke.

Oh my gawd. Have I secretly been a closet anime fan my whole life and never known about it? Has this urge to watch anime continuously been lurking in the dungeons of my heart all this time? What's going on with me?! I'm not supposed to like this stuff! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah....

It's always weird when you discover that you like something that you've never tried before, and it changes your perception of yourself. I mean, I'd just gotten used to being an Avatar fan. I feel like my tough girl persona is slipping away from me. No, don't go, tough girl! I need you! Without you, I'll start feeling those goddamn emotions. :/

Of PC Games, and More Ways I am a Nerd

I think I started playing Age of Mythology when my mother bought for me during my homeschool years, in order to help me learn about the ancient cultures (or more accurately, to help me be more enthusiastic about learning). The help in learning about mythology was really unnecessary for me, but I loved the game. I used to spend hours playing it. My dad even bought me the expansion - The Titans. My favorite civilization is the Atlanteans, but before the expansion pack, it was the Greeks. The Greeks have the easiest time gaining favor. The Norseman have such a hard time of pleasing their gods, I almost never play as them. Of course, as the Atlanteans, I love that I never have to build drop sites.

Lately I've also spent a lot of time researching mythology - dragon mythology. I'm planning my second tattoo (so soon, and I haven't even got the first one yet, I know), and I can't decide what type of dragon I want. I was thinking a wyvern, wings hunches around it's long, stretched-out body, head reared, in a tribal-reminiscent pattern, and then later I could add a tribal armband around near the wings. I want my mother (she's an artist) to design it for me, but I don't think she will. She told me she would when I asked her. I was surprised that she agreed so readily, but then when she didn't do anything, I grew suspicious and asked her when she would do it. She said "I don't know." When I probed further, she did admit that she would not do it before I move away to college. Basically, that's her way of stalling me. She doesn't want me to get any tattoos, and she certainly doesn't want to design any of them for me.

Another Snare

Sometimes, late at night, I like to visit here and read my old posts. Some of the things I wrote about myself have changed, and I smile at the things I used to like. Other posts make me remember pieces of myself that I had forgotten. I have wise moments, sometimes, and some of them are recorded here.

Some important ones I wish I could remember:
-I need to worry less, decensor myself more, and live more freely
-I don't have a "soul"
-I don't believe in love, and I don't mind not believing in love
-All thing deteriorate over time.
-Destruction is not always a bad thing. Sometimes it means the start of something new.

I should remember these, but I'm caught in a spiral. It's a spiral of traps. See, I had hopes of living more freely once I moved away from my parents, but now I'm going to college 15 minutes away from my grandparents. Everyday I don't have school I spend at my grandparents. They're even worse than my parents. My grandmother is more conservative, more opinionated, more anti-gay, and just MORE. I'm regressing and I don't know how I ended up like this. Or how I get out.

I'm thinking of transferring to another college, either where Leanne goes or Hayley. My friends. My wonderful, liberal, open-minded, and ACCEPTING friends. I miss their wisdom and their humor.

Tattoo Update

I was looking back over old posts, and I realized I haven't blogged about my tattoo plans for a while. Since then, my plans have become a little more concrete, so I thought I'd go over them again.

First of all, I wrote that I wanted to end up with a tribal piece on one upper arm and kanji on the other. I've decided against the kanji - I've read too much about people who were tattooed with words that didn't mean what they thought they meant, and I certainly don't read Japanese myself. I told myself I would get kanji if I could learn to read Japanese, but I don't think that's going to happen. Instead, I came up with another beautiful design: a thin tribal spiral, reminiscent of DNA, surrounded by a wider spiral and swirling dots, meant to be cosmically reminiscent, and butterflies fluttering around the whole thing, to represent metamorphosis, fragility, and the cycle of life. Altogether, the whole thing symbolizes the unity of the universe for me. I've been working on the design for months, perfecting it, and I've picked the left arm for it.

On the other arm, I have indeed decided on a tribal piece, as I wrote before; but more specifically, on a tribal wyvern that I want my mother to design. I don't know if I can get her to do it. A wyvern is a cousin of the dragon; dragons have four legs and two wings, wyverns have two legs, and their wings are clawed and derived from their forelimbs (like the wings of bats are). I chose a wyvern partly because I like their shape more for a tattoo, and partly because my dad always liked to say his sign was the dragon, and I sort of think of him like that. I guess I think that would make me a wyvern somehow. Both creatures represent strength, ferocity, independence, and cunning. This tattoo will be on my upper right arm.

The symbolism of these two arm tattoos must seem to be somewhat at odds, but the way I see it, the former is endowed with feminine energy and the latter with masculine energy, so I think they balance each other out perfectly in a yin-yang way. I've even chosen which arms they go on with this system; I associate the left side with a more creative path and the right with a more analytical one. They do say that left-handed people are supposed to be more creative, and right-handed ones more analytical.

On my back, I am still planning wings with the phrase "contra mundum". Before, I wrote that I wanted "abstract" wings; I'm not sure what I meant by abstract, but probably not what I want anymore. I'm not entirely sure what kind of wings I want, but I'm thinking I want fey-esque wings, tri-sectioned, laying at rest, black, somewhat ragged, with skulls subtly blended in as pale spots. I thought I was unsure, but after typing all that detail, it just became apparent to me that I'm pretty sure what I want. Anywhoodle. I want fey wings because they are neutral - they do not represent either good or evil, as almost any other type of wing does. I want them tri-sectioned because traditionally three pairs of wings represent glory, honor, and dignity (and I also don't want to look too much like a butterfly). The raggedness and subtle skulls are to counteract the "sweetness" of the fey wings, because things that seem sweet and innocent are not always so. Sometimes they are jaded and worn down, but strong. And I want them black just because I love black.

Onward, to the phrase "contra mundum". I'm going to have this phrase tattooed vertically down the back of my neck, downward until it meets the wings. It is Latin, meaning "against society" "against the world" or "against everybody". I've also seen "against all organized beliefs". I know it's not my native language, but I've decided I want it anyway. It's a simple phrase, and I've never heard of any confusion about its meaning, and all the sources I've found agree on its interpretation. I know it could be interpreted negatively - people might think I hate everybody - but to me it's always stood for a certain independence of thought. That's why I'm pairing it with the wings to represent my independent spirit and mental androgyny. I bring mental androgyny into this to tie it to the two previous tattoos and their meanings. I said that one was feminine and the other masculine, so it makes sense that the one in the middle would be neutral. The one in the middle is where the yin-yang occurs, the plan where the anima and the animus are perfectly balanced. All in all, the first tattoo is my body/heart, the second one is my mind, and the third one is my spirit.

As you can see, I've put a lot of thought into this, and there's a complete system of personal symbolism involved in these tattoos, and if I ever make any changes in my plans, I will definitely incorporate more symbolism.

Soren's Speech

I love Star Trek. I've probably said this before; I don't really remember, but right now it's not important. I love it because the characters are good people and funny characters who get along like a family, it's a dependable show (I don't mind predictability), and weird stuff happens. It's also got a message - not an obvious message. Most episodes are simply stories, but quite a few of them have morals or are metaphors.

I just watched one that addressed an issue that is very important to me, and I wish to everyone else as well. It's in season five, and the title of the episode is "The Outcast". Here's the story: Riker is working with a member of an androgynous race (I'll call it a "she") called Soren. She is very curious about genders, and eventually reveals that she prefers to identify as female and is attracted to Riker, but there's a problem: Among her people, the idea of gender is considered wrong. This is because her race used to have genders, but they evolved out of it. Still, sometimes there are people in her race who are born preferring one of the genders. They have to hide this preferrence all their lives, because if they are discovered, they are taken away and given treatments. During the episode, Soren is discovered and put on trial. Riker tries to save her by claiming he was the one attracted to her, but Soren tells the counsel the truth. Then she delivers a moving dialogue. I love it. It's obviously a metaphor for being gay/bi/transgender/different in any way. Here it is:

"I am tired of lies.
"I am female.
"I was born that way. I have had those feelings, those longings, all of my life. It is not unnatural. I am not sick because I feel this way. I do not need to be helped. I do not need to be cured. What I need, and what all of those who are like me need, is your understanding and your compassion.
"We have not injured you in any way, and yet we are scorned and attacked, and all because we are different. What we do is no different from what you do. We talk and laugh, we complain about work, and we wonder about growing old. We talk about our families and we worry about the future. And we cry with each other when things seem hopeless. All of the loving things that you do with each other - that is what we do. And for that we are called misfits and deviants and criminals! What right do you have to punish us? What right do you have to change us? What makes you think you can dictate how people love each other?"

I strongly suggest you watch the episode, if not just for the message, then to find out what happened afterwards.

What is the Question?

Every person's path in life is defined by a question that they have. They spend their lives seeking the answer to this question, and through the search, define their lives. Great artists live seeking the answer to "what is art?" Great musicians ask "what is music?" Novelists want to know what a novel is. Poets ask the identity of a poem.

I ask for identity. I want to know who I am. I want to know who we are as humans. I aim to see the core in each and every individual, and it frustrates me that so many people hide their core selves. I don't know what this makes me besides perplexed.

Fish on a Hook

14 September 2011. This is a day to remember. This is the day I GOT MY LIP PIERCED!!!!

I have of course been wanting a lip piercing for a few years, ever since I was fifteen. Maybe sixteen. Since I turned eighteen I've beel legally able to get one without my parents, and since I still wanted one, I figured I'd wanted one long enough that I wasn't going to regret it. It wasn't a rash decision.

So I started looking for places to get it done in Peoria. My problem was transportation. I don't have a car, and I don't know anyone nearby with one that I would want to go with me. There weren't many tattoo parlors within walking distance, and the city bus didn't got near any of them either. I also wanted to find one with good ratings. In the end, I probably wasn't as careful choosing one as I should have been.

I called a small tattoo parlor two streets over, purely because it was within easy walking distance. I'd researched it, and it didn't have any ratings and appeared to be a new shop. So anyway, I called, They guy on the phone was friendly and very willing to answer my questions (unlike that guy from that other place...) so I went over and looked at the shop.

It was small, largely undecorated, and had crappy carpet. There were only two people in there, and they both worked there. Lip piercing was only $30, which was a bit of a red flag, since, as a general rule, you get what you pay for in this industry. Still, I'd been wanting a lip piercing for a long time, and this was the only shop nearby. I told them I wanted my lip pierced and he said the piercer wasn't there at the moment, as he had a family emergency. I made an appointment (although they take walk-ins) for the following day.
The following day I went over. There were more people there this time: a guy at the counter, two in the back room (one was my piercer, one was a tattoo artist), a guy discussing a tattoo he wanted, and another guy who was getting a tattoo. I did the paperwork, proved I was old enough, and then went into the back room.
It was a pretty quick procedure. I think I was expecting it to take more time. He put a dot on my lower lip with a sharpie, we made sure it was centered and where I wanted it, and then I sat down on a chair. He pulled out the needle and the clamp and asked me if I was ready.
I'd been doing fine up until this point. Really. I was like "oh yes, I'm such a bamf, I'm getting my lip pierced all on my own and I'm not even nervous, sunshine and daisies, lalala..." But when he pulled out the needle I suddenly inhaled like a vaccuum and said, "um...can you give me a moment? I'm freaking out." He reassured me that I could take all the time I needed and told me it hurts a shitload. Oddly, that was more reassuring than if he had told me it doesn't hurt that much. When people say it doesn't hurt that much, I always think they're downplaying it. Anyway, while I was working on not freaking out, I asked him a few questions, and then I was ready.

I needn't have freaked out. It just felt like my lip was being pinched. I can't even remember if it hurt or not - I think it did for a second, but it was so trivial that now I can't really remember. I mean, I remember thinking that there was pain, but I don't remember feeling pain. He put the clamp on my lip, pushed the needle through (I confess...I had my eyes closed during this part), and then he worked the hoop through the hole.

So then I had a hoop in my lip, but he still needed to put the bead on it. This was the hard part. He spent several minutes tugging at my lip trying to get the bead on the hoop. He couldn't. He had the other guy try, the tattoo artist, and he couldn't get it either, so then he asked the guy at the front counter and he put it on in like, two seconds. Even while they were tugging at my lip, it didn't really hurt. The piercer wiped the marker of my lip, made me use mouthwash, and then I went up front and paid. And then I walked out feeling like a bamf. I went to CVS feeling like a bamf. And then I came back to my dorm feeling like a bamf.
Altogether, it was a good experience. I'm really happy with my piercing. It bled a little bit at first, but now you can't even tell it's fresh. There's no swelling, bleeding, crusting, or bruising. I give the shop 4 stars out of five.
My piercing is still healing. I'll come back later and add updates to this post as it heals up.
 
Update: Day Four - the skin around the piercing is a little swollen and pinkish. It still doesn't hurt, it's only a little sore when I try to eat something like a bagel, where I have to bite down on it.

I've Got a Few Wires Loose

Dry, somber brown leaf
Trapped on the branch alone
Why do you not change your colors?
How do you bear watching your peers
as they shed their old selves to take on the new;
as they go on with the flow of life
ever changing?

It's been a while since I did anything social with somebody who was not "like me". In other words, I haven't hung out with normal people for a while, and as usually happens, I have forgotten what it is like, this ebb and flow of energy that they are constantly experiencing. How do they handle it? I just can't. I can't fit in with them. Their so-loud music grates on my ears; their unwillingness to think about the future even a moment sets me on edge; their repetative humor and inside jokes confuse me; the way they nudge each other and give each other facial expressions leaves me completely lost and muddled in the middle of conversations.

Through the Doors

I'm over the high school nostalgia. Way over it - didn't take me long, either. I have thrown myself into the aforementioned summer activities: cleaning out my old life, getting reading for college, and preparing to reinvent myself. This includes morning runs, not drinking soda, and making leather jewelry (I'm making a leather wrist cuff. It's gonna have gun metal studs and it's gonna be awesome). I have a new vision of myself - a lean, muscly, tattooed, and rebellious vision.

Doors

Last night, I graduated high school. I didn't attribute it much significance at the time (being more given to making snarky commentary and focusing on not messing up my salutatorian speech), but now I feel... something. I don't usually feel things, so I can't tell what it is. I can taste it though; it's bittersweet and surprising, like dark chocolate when you were expecting sugar-coated peeps. It's less colorful than I wanted. Now I have all summer to clean out my old life, get ready for college, and prepare to reinvent myself. I should be gearing up for fresh independence and power. And yet, I keep remembering all my old classmates and teachers, how much fun they all were, how accepting they all were of me as a person and a student. Also, they were quite a lot of fun.

For our senior trip, we ended having a picnic at our principle's house and playing Do You Love Your Neighbor. We sat in a big circle, and the person in the middle had to pick someone. If they loved their neighbors, the people sitting on either side of them had to switch places while the person in the middle had to try to grab one of their places. If they didn't love their neighbors, they had to love everyone with a certain trait (like wearing white socks), and everyone with that trait had to find a new spot. Of course, someone always ended up in the middle. Kathy "loved" everyone who had ever cut a class. All the students except three moved.

Last summer, three other girls and I went skinny dipping in a park at night and were caught my the sherriff. When he pulled up, we all dove underwater and hoped he wouldn't be able to see us with his headlights  reflecting off the surface of the lake. The problem with being underwater is that there's no way to breathe unless you have special equipment, and we did not have special equipment. Also, it's hard to figure out what's going on when you're struggling to breathe and be underwater at the same time. Only one of us realized that the sherriff had already seen our clothes and us when we came up for air, and she was calmly pretending that we hadn't realized we weren't supposed to be here while the rest of us kept floundering around and gasping. Once the sherriff told us we needed to leave and drove away, we got out, got dressed, and walked back home. On the way home, we were pulled over and picked up by another guy in a sherriff's car. While he talked on his little radio about us (apparently the mother of the girl whose house we were staying at had called the police because we were so long gone on our "walk"), one of us suddenly whispered,"Oh crap! It's the guy from the lake." And then we all got a very awkward ride home after the sherriff casually asked us if we were the girls from the lake.

There were only thirty people in my senior class, and I've had many more adventures like this one with them (maybe not as intimate as this one, though). I may never see most of these people again. Where do I go from here? I have to make a new life for myself, starting this summer. A door has closed on my high school experience, and I can only hope a few more doors have opened that I just can't see now.

Before I Go

I found this poem as I was searching my files for a school assignment. I wrote a couple years ago. I don't remember the inspiration, but I like what I wrote. I'd completely forgotten about it.

So this I know, before I go

A secret must I tell

As deadly as the drifting snow

Even if I’m damned to hell 

My throbbing heart was torn from me

My hands stained bloody red

I killed he that stole it from me
And left him there for dead

My life drains in gushing rivers

My eyes are weighted low

I took the life from the giver

My soul thrums, sad and slow

His ghost came back and sang to me

And I gave him a dirge

And so we parted happily

Entwined, our souls will merge

So he with me, and I with him

A double travesty

Pliant to each and every whim
Till blood should be set free

Five (Not Serious) Skills Everyone Should Learn to Impress People

1. How to mix drinks - coffee drinks and alcoholic drinks. This is a skill to impress people with. And besides that, it's practical. It's much cheaper to make yourself a mocha or a daiquiri at home than it is to buy one, and you can always make sure it's made just the way you like it.

2. How to cut and dye hair. Who wants to pay $300 to get a cut and highlights at a salon? I know someone who actually paid that much once, and I don't see that it was worth it. Hair is often a much simpler entity that most people make it out to be. Cutting and dyeing it are skills that take a little bit of practice but are easy to learn and definitely worth it in the end. You don't even need that many tools. A comb, a pair of basic scissors, an old paintbrush for putting on the dye, and a few others things that you probably already have in your kitchen. You do have to buy your own hair dye, though. I got my own thinning shears, too, because I started cutting others people's hair and sometimes I need them. Now I'm starting to comtemplate buying a hair razor.

3. Card tricks. Everything from how to cut a deck with one hand, games, magic tricks, and how to do a reading for someone. This is just plain fun and good entertainment. Plus, a deck of cards is a cheap asset and easy to carry around with you. Hey, you there - care to know your future? The cards know it all. And what more fun activity could you find to do with your friends than a game of cards? Card games are great because they give you something to do while you're all chatting; in fact, they can be a source of conversation topics, and if you're betting, they provide for a little playful competition. Even in The Next Generation, many of the officers play cards (Data's learning to bluff).

4. Ambidexterity. Hey, why not? Then if you injure one hand, you've got the other one to use. Learning to do things with your non-dominant side exercises parts of your brain and strengthens neural pathways.

5. How to juggle. It's so impressive when you pick up a couple things lying around and just oh-so-casually start juggling them like you're bored. You look super talented. Learning also improves hand-eye coordination. It's a lot of fun, too, and if you're really good, you could use it to entertain as festivals and the like.

I Kept Looking for Someone to Solve my Problem...then I Realized, I am the Problem

"I kept looking for someone to solve my problem, then I realized I am someone."
-Anonymous

I just don't understand people. I'm discovering I have asperger's syndrome, which means I can't read social cues or nonverbal signals (among other things). All three of my friends just gathered up their stuff and left the computer lab as one unit, like they'd recieve some secret message. Class isn't over, and nobody said anything, so how did they all know to go at once?  And why do they need to go to the bathroom together?

I remember in a Star Trek episode, Picard proved to some aliens how advanced humans are by telling his officers to lock said aliens up without ever giving a verbal order. He just gave Riker a "look". I couldn't figure it out until Picard explained it to the aliens. The ability to communicate and understand communications nonverbally is an ability I lack.

My brain just works differently. I feel differently, think differently, act differently. A lot of what other people say doesn't make sense to me, and a lot of what I say doesn't make sense to them. I like blogging, though - it's easier to communicate through text because there's none of this nonverbal nonsense to screw up what I'm saying. People just read it and take it to mean exactly what it says (for the most part, anyway). I can verbalize effectively, but it feels very weird and kind of awkward.