takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-22 10:43 pm
Entry tags:

Aerials of Special Interest

I’ve had an immense interest in aviation and flying for as long as I can remember. It’s one of those things that I sit and think about constantly, multiple times a day at times. I don’t know what it is about flight and gliding that has such a grip on me, but it just does. This lifelong passion has luckily given me many fascinating experiences and observations while growing up, from catching butterflies to going up in an open cockpit plane. I feel that many of my happiest moments have been around birds and planes and things of that sort, and every time I reignite my will to learn about flight I find myself even more and more humbled by all that encompasses it, from evolution of species to evolution of human creation. It really is just a wonderful thing.

One thing I have done since I was young of is imagine what it would be like to have huge angel wings and be able to fly. It’s a very common dream for many people I think, because humans just find the idea of flight attractive. We can sit and contemplate what it would be like, where we would go, what we’d see. For me I think if I grew a pair of wings right now, I’d fly to Ocean City and Atlantic City. I like to imagine looking down at all of the lights and microscopic structures below, like looking out of a plane but it’s all right in front of me instead of outside of a tragically tiny window. It would be overwhelming to witness everything I know on the ground from above I think, particularly the ocean. I had an experience like that once at my hometown’s local airport, where I went up in a Cessna and flew over northern New Jersey. I could see all the way from Pequannock to New York City, which is hardly possible from the ground. From the sky, the Earth seems so small and peaceful. I feel that every time I get to fly anywhere. If I had wings I could escape everything that drags me down on and to Earth, and I would probably become addicted to it. It would go beyond completing my life. Maybe one day the feeling will be satisfied with a pilot’s license, which I hope to get later in life.

I am also really into birds and birdwatching, and keep a tabbed field guide of birds that I see. I like raptors best because of how their wings are especially maneuverable and efficient for hunting. The evolution of birds and other flying species is something I know a lot about and love to talk about with other interested people. Archaeopteryx, the transitional species between dinosaur and bird, is my favorite extinct animal ever since I learned about it in taxonomy class in high school. It’s incredible how nature can over-engineer an animal over the course of millions of years until it is able to fly, and with such grace and efficiency. It’s really just marvelous to me.

In late elementary school, my dad started talking to me about his time in the Air Force and I fell into the world of plane hobbyists. We used to go to airshows together all the time, fond memories that I still hold close. I consume a worrisome amount of information regularly about planes and their histories, specifically airliners. Traveling by air is generally my favorite part of any trip. To this day I still daydream about flying on a Boeing 747, in which case afterwards I would feel content and ready to die. It’s weird because my dad actually hates flying and would rather have his feet on the ground. He doesn’t exactly share my excitement. Still, I wish he could see how much I really know about planes now and how he helped inspire that within me. We have gone to such cool landmarks of aviation history together and seen some extraordinary aircraft. My favorite plane has for a long time been the PT-17 Stearman Kaydet, but I also like the De Havilland Comet, MiG-25, and the Lockheed C-5 (as well as their respective histories). Since I live near an international airport and the military base my dad served at, I get to see my fair share of planes here and often at low altitudes. If I hear a plane, I tend to look up and stare at it. Coincidentally, “plane” was my first word.

The closest I’ve been to feeling like I was flying was when I went hang gliding at 13 in the Outer Banks. The guide I went up with caught a draft and we stayed up there for over 15 minutes. I am terrified of falling, but when I looked down from 7,000 feet up I felt overcome with pure joy. The wind was through my hair, and the earth was all the way down there, and it was like I was physically and emotionally zoomed out from the rest of the world. I guess it’s like a mild version of what astronauts feel when they look back at Earth from space and start crying. Those 15 minutes felt like a wonderful eternity, and I know I have to do that again in my life. It was incredible.

I feel immensely lucky to have things I’m interested in like flight. It is such an enriching hobby to have. In my life, I want to learn as much about it as there is to know and more. My knowledge about things relating to this outweighs anything else I know, sometimes filling the gaps of actual practical knowledge I should probably have. I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m just like, really, really into flight, and I’m sure I will be until I die.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-22 05:35 pm
Entry tags:

Disappointing Marginal Time-waster

Talking about drug usage here admittedly irks me a bit. I say it's not something I do often but I am too curious for my own good when it comes to these things. I know I should know better, but recently it feels like many people I know, especially older coworkers of mine back up North, have tried or want to try DMT. When it basically fell into my lap, I decided to give it a shot.

DMT is the most powerful psychedelic known to man. People I know and the internet vouch for the experiences they've had on it, as it boasts an almost immediate and life-changing psychedelic effect. To the point where people don't know where they are anymore. I'm talking elves in forests, riding on the back of an eagle in the sunset, floating out into space kind of "spiritual teleportation". People say they see the world in a whole new light afterwards. It's the drug to top all drugs, a remarkable epiphany packed into a 20 minute period that will transform your entire perspective on life...

Well I didn't get any of that. Not at all. Lily told me to take a couple hits and see what happens. I was so underwhelmed that I took more like 20, and nothing notable happened at all besides me getting really ponderous for a good 15 minutes and some mild hallucinations. If anything it provided a sense of clarity which I guess is alright but that's probably only because I went on a micro-bender yesterday with Corey. It was hands down the most underwhelming drug I've ever taken in my life. ADHD medicine could even provide a better time. It's a shame I guess, that I don't get to feel psychedelics the way others do (LSD is a bit similar with me) but I'm glad I don't really need them for medicinal purposes like many people I know do. Still, what a drag. Just like LSD, I knew I'd get anxiety in the comedown when I woke up which I fully anticipated and Corey was there to help me. I've never had someone sit me for that part so it was such a relief that we were able to work through it. I don't think I will be trying DMT again, but if I do I'm sure it will be as anti-climatic as all my trips tend to be.

At the very least, I feel this almost comical sense of pride in the fact that I took 20 hits of DMT and felt hardly anything. That's sort of impressive I guess. Maybe I'm already enlightened, which I highly doubt, but it's funny to joke about. At this age, I am convinced I am invincible.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-20 08:35 am
Entry tags:

My Worst Tech Repair Yet

Back in November I was at the Goodwill up in Egg Harbor looking for a DVD player. While I was there, I came across an old Aiwa stereo system with a 3 disc changer and the original stickers still on it. I love the look of old technology like that. The late 90's glossy plastics and interfaces really scratch an itch in me. I've wanted some sort of apparatus in my room for awhile. Now, I'm not experienced with stereo systems in the slightest, nor do I know anything about setting them up or fixing them. I figured while I was there, the thing was only $12.99 anyways, so why not take on a new project and see if it works? I got it on a whim, and when I got home I was quick to start testing it out.

What immediately caught my eye was that the disc changer was skipping a lot, or rather it was just incapable of loading a disc. The cassette player worked just fine, but the volume dial (as smooth and high quality as it seemed) hardly worked. These were the only noticeable issues I found with it, and after doing some research it was clear that these were common problems in these vintage systems even in their heyday. The model I bought, the CX-NA31, was released in 1996 so I had a shred of justifiable doubt. After taking the thing apart and cleaning out the inside with isopropyl alcohol, it seemed as if this one was not stored properly or belonged to a smoker. There was a pretty thick layer of grime on the laser, and I was hoping that would solve the CD "flicking". It did temporarily, but as I've learned the CD players in these old Aiwa speakers tend to crap out rather quickly. It's a shame, because the other hardware in the system was in perfect working condition considering its age. These systems would definitely have a much higher value today if the CD players in them were better, especially since CDs are still a popular physical medium for music. I digress. With the CD player busted, I knew that the stereo probably wouldn't be a permanent addition to my room. Regardless, I got to work on the volume dial immediately. When I took it apart (painstakingly) there was some corrosion of the motherboard and lubricant from the dial was everywhere. It was at that point that I realized I may have wasted $13. I ordered a remote to adjust the volume in the meantime while I worked on the CD player, but I spent all day yesterday working on it and still couldn't get it in the working order I would need to use it regularly. Still, it was fun getting to tinker with an old piece of tech like that. I'm going back to Goodwill today to check out another stereo system I saw there that would work with the speakers I got.

I know it seems sort of weird but I'm walking in there with a screwdriver, a cotton swab, and a Candlebox CD. I need to make sure the laser disc works before I drop money on it. Hopefully they allow me to test it in there. That Goodwill has racks upon racks of technology, from vintage woodgrain speakers to metallic 2000s portable players all the way up to cheugy iPod accessories. It's all sort of thrown carelessly on the shelves in a huge tangle of cords. I've heard that many thrift shops overseas don't take in used technology so I'm glad we have it here. The prevailing problem with having this stuff in shops, in my opinion, is that there is no accessible way to test an item before you buy it. Most people I assume wouldn't want take a chance on something used or have to spend time and money getting it fixed. If there was an area for testing these items, or even just a power strip for fucks sake, I think people would be much more motivated to test and purchase a piece of used technology. With how quickly things go obsolete these days, even if the impact of my proposition is negligible, at least some older pieces could be put to good use again.

I will probably write an entry about the next stereo system I buy. I was honestly very impressed with the sound quality and software performance of the Aiwa. If I'm lucky, I'll find a system that I can use long term in my room. I'm so sick of my smart speakers.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-18 09:35 am
Entry tags:

Back To School

Yesterday I went back to college, although now I think I should just call it home. Gibraltar was less than pleased with the two hour drive, but luckily he seemed to forget all about it when I opened his carrier in the apartment. He did some thorough exploration of all the rooms and my enthused roommates spent some time fawning over him. Overall he adjusted pretty quickly, and all last night he was cuddled up beside me on my bed for the first time. I think I've earned his trust. Barbra Streisand once sang that "a house is not a home", which resonated with me deeply on those bleak nights I spent plastered last semester. But with Gibs here to keep me company, I feel the apartment is now a home.

Speaking of getting plastered, last night I made the best mistake of my life. My biggest problem with alcohol is that I still retain my better judgement even when I'm intoxicated, making me possibly the most boring drunk on this fucking rock. Corey and I decided to celebrate my return home last night by getting drunk together (over voice chat as per usual) and I drank my rum straight from the bottle. At one point I watched Corey sip his beer, trying to get it down quickly but with some difficulty. So I decided to "show him how it's done" and drank a negligible amount of my reserves in one go. It was definitely the most intoxicated I've been off alcohol, not something I would want to do often but it sure as hell was fun with my friend. It's weird how perception, emotions, and specifically laughter change while drunk. I like the closeness that comes with it. I can't think of anyone else I'd want to do drugs with besides Corey, who thinks he is poor at expressing his appreciation for others but still manages to do a better job than anyone else I know.

It really is a blessing to be this young and stupid and free. I went to bed at 9:40 PM and woke up at 2:30 AM, still drunk and with my body withering away into the hangover, with Gibraltar melting into my side and purring like a motorboat. Around 7:00 when I got up for class he kept trying to eat my cereal while I sat on the couch all fatigued. Simple things. Now I'm in the Stockton Campus Center attending my first day of classes as if nothing happened last night, and tonight I get to do some grocery shopping and see Vic. I'm so grateful for all of this. I'm grateful to have people I love and things to come home to. And God am I glad to be away from all the things that were dragging me down up north. It just feels good to be back.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-14 09:43 pm
Entry tags:

My Hero

My dad is a person who I truly love. It's honestly a shame I haven't talked about him more here. I've noticed since I've gone to college that he really makes an effort to spend time with me and I'm glad that it has been something we prioritize when I'm around. For all of my life, I can't really think of a time where things were tumultuous between us, although we've had our fair share of parent-child arguments. Even in those memories, the thing about my dad and I is that we know how to apologize and make it up to each other. We can go back to having a stable relationship in no time.

I'd describe my dad as a pretty classic conservative middle-aged man, which I guess is sort of ironic considering my... unconventional beliefs. A few years ago he told me that I should always fight for what I think is right even if he doesn't agree with it, so that's more than enough for me. He likes knives and guns and leatherworking and would probably do anything for this family even though he's pretty edgy about it. Everything he owns is in some way "tactical" and August and I like to joke about that with him. He takes himself seriously sometimes about it but we have him figured out to a T- all you have to do is say "boobs" to him and he'll start cracking up. Despite being traditionally ignorant, he has always supported his kids and our identities. However, unlike August, I have the advantage of sharing some interests with him, like music and knife collecting. Those things have made us much closer and we get along really well. He's generous, too, and he gives solid hugs. He's an admirable father and I have always looked up to him. When I was younger I wanted to be just like him, and at this age I still appreciate him deeply for everything he has done for me.

One of my most distinct memories with my father was when I was eight. We were on vacation in Ocean City, and we were driving home after crabbing in the afternoon. I was buckled up in the back of his 1998 Jeep Cherokee and "My Hero" by Foo Fighters was playing on the radio. He was singing it sort of quietly the way he does while driving, and from that point on, I always associated that song with him. It's one of those songs with a clear-cut memory attached to it that I hold close. My eight-year-old brain thought "Hey, my dad is sort of my hero. This song was basically written about him." I never revoked that title.

My dad is human, though. He has a few weaknesses, albeit they are nothing compared to his wife. My dad is not exactly confrontational unless he really has to be, and has gone down some weird constitutionalist pipeline which was so annoying during the Trump presidency. He can be hot-headed and say hurtful things he regrets, and sometimes he yells instead of actually arguing. It holds more weight coming from him so it's easier for him to make me upset. He also takes my mother's side in his ignorance and can even come off as strict, but that was never really a problem growing up and isn't a problem now since I'm in college. It's hard to approach him about emotional stuff or some of my interests, but I can't tell if that's me or him. Sometimes I just have no idea what to talk about and our car conversations are a bit contrived. I'd take that over the proleptic arguments that seem to happen when I talk to my mom. I guess the difference between him and Mom is that he has the rationality and conviction to identify when he's wrong instead of feeding into his ego or exercising a ridiculous level of control. It's hard to describe his downsides when we are ultimately an amicable duo, though. I like to be around him and he likes to be around me. He shows me affection and protects me. He is able to say and prove that he loves me.

On Thursday he asked if I wanted to go to the thrift store with him. On the way there I asked him what he needed and he said "nothing, just thought it would be something to do". We got lunch after and I was able to get his perspective on the ordeal with Mom. Even though I might not agree completely with where he stands on it, I can tell he's just doing what he thinks is best and his best isn't unagreeable enough for me to deem it unacceptable. In the end he assured me, holding back tears, that all he wants is for August and I to be happy, healthy, and safe.

And with that, I segue back to the state of this family. I've gotten everyone's point of view on it. That's some quality journalism right there, huh? August sent me a long text from the heart the other day, clarifying that they recognize Mom's behavior as abuse. They like to run from their problems though, and with the pressure they've had on them over the years I can't blame them. My mom asked me the other day if I knew if August was trying to cut them off, and the answer is pretty much yes. Yet, I didn't tell her and said it wasn't my place to confirm that if I knew. Dad says Mom is afraid of losing us and I can tell he is, too. I'm not losing Dad ever, but everything about my mom makes me want to run the way August did. Dad is worried. Mom is worried. August is stressed. Obviously I am, too. I know all of this, but I can't be the one to patch this family back together. Unless Mom sees a therapist I doubt anything will change at all. August said they want to bring that up with her, so we will see how it goes. Right now I am just thankful for what I have been able to establish with my father and sibling amidst all of this. Admittedly, I am afraid that if I distance myself from Mom, Dad will be a part of that. I would hate for us to drift apart or have awkwardness because of it. At the very least, August and I are pretty much on the same page. My connections with these people are important. I will do my best to preserve and strengthen them. I'm really not keen on losing my dad in all of this, but somehow I think that would be difficult. He's my hero, after all.

takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-12 02:15 pm
Entry tags:

Perfect People

Mom told me that I dress like a junkie
Maybe she knows that I am
She feigns a little dream of a house by the beach
Between the Indian grave and old Uncle Sam
Skipping and tracing those ne’er-do-well days
When we were still her golden girls
Ordained in purple and polka-dot dresses
Hair like silk, teeth like pearls
Perfect people in a gift shop snow globe
American wet dream picture frame
Perfect people, all the people as one
Crying and weeping at the thought of our names
Oh, perfect people, all the people as one
And everything under the big yellow sun
Created to live and to laugh and to love
And to spread for The Man and cry till it’s done
Is that the vision of the middle class woman
Two and a half kids, a man by her side
His guns still blazing beneath the suburbia
She’s keeping together by spreading it wide
The news says they’re putting acid in candy
And that speed would be ethically better
Princess Diana appeared in my trip
And said “do what you can to upset her”
So I’ll shave my head and pierce my tongue
Then poison my body with tapers and drugs
Yes, the people are perfect, oh the people are one
And everything under the big yellow sun
The American Dream, the one and done
Cops in the city making love to their guns
Christ has the backs of our overseas sons
Comedown to Mellencamp, nervous and stunned
Oh, we’re all perfect people, the people as one
Perfect people under the big yellow sun
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-10 08:49 pm
Entry tags:

Ricky's Turn

I adopted a cat. His name is Gibraltar, after the island in Ohio (not the British Overseas Territory). He's 8 months old and a bit of a handful, but I think I chose well. He's a good cat as far as I can tell. It's only been two days after all.




I still can't believe I was able to somehow pull this off. I'm even more excited to go back to college and have something to come home to besides the lizards and my psychotically clean room. I hope Gibs stirs up some chaos to keep me on my toes, but judging by the state of my curtains at the moment, I think he's doing a pretty good job.

The anxiety has been hard on me lately and I can't say I'm in the best shape. That's why I'm happy to say I'm seeing a therapist again, this time over video call, but I'm not complaining. I met her for the first time today and it as a positive experience. She specializes in the highly specific OCD behavior that I deal with, something I've never received the right care for so I'm really hopeful that it will work. While this may be my last option left, it is also the one that's most likely to work. This, in combination with Gibraltar, should help me stay balanced while at school.

As for Pequannock, well, a new layer of contention has just been thrown atop an already overwhelming pile. I'd honestly rather not talk about it because it's a waste at this point. Six more days until I'm home and happy again, and with another $750 in my pocket to last me while I get settled with my courses and find a job there. As for now, I guess I'm still in limbo. Frankly, the thing getting me through at the end of the day (as much as I hate for my happiness to be largely contingent on people) is the company of my friends. Especially Corey, who always manages to brighten my mood after a long day and end on a pleasant note. Connor and Amanda are great as well, although I talk to them less frequently. I'm really appreciative of what my friends do for me, even if they don't think much of it. I could go on for hours about it probably, but I don't think that's healthy.

And for the other things going on in my life, I've actually been struck with a spell of workplace drama recently. The story is too long and too confusing to explain fully, but essentially I made an unintentionally mean-spirited joke after one of my coworkers lied about something to me. I don't know why she lied to me, I don't care to know, and all I want to do is apologize to the person I hurt because of it. To keep it somewhat short, I discovered that a group of coworkers have been purposely setting up one of our managers to harass and gaslight her. I was under a different impression until I heard someone I considered a friend talking about how he and a few others manipulate the situation against her. I only found out because we all decided to pull a prank on her and it snowballed out of control. It's honestly really sad and I feel horrible about it, but I'm also disappointed in my coworkers for believing the bullying is deserved. I decided yesterday to take responsibility and tell management what was going on behind the scenes and the manager I told, Dan, described my confession as "emotional and mature" so I think it was the right way to go. Still, this was not a side of my workplace that I wanted to see or be apart of. You live and you learn I guess.

This week might be stressful with all that's happening. It will all pass soon enough though. I've got my ducks in a row for this upcoming semester and I'm excited to be learning and living again. Now I have a cat, a therapist, a brand new THC cartridge, and a good hunk of cash. Honestly, everything's coming up Ricky. Let's finish out this week strong.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-08 08:34 am
Entry tags:

Cat Day

I didn’t really have time to write about it this week but I was finally able to get my recommendation letter for an emotional support animal. Needless to say, I was overjoyed because at this point I didn’t really think it would happen, and even if it did I thought the process would be slow. I guess I was wrong because today is a big day for me. I am going to two different shelters with the intention of bringing home a cat. Hopefully everything goes to plan and I’ll finally have a companion with me at college. Getting that letter was excessively difficult, but it paid off in the end. I haven’t told many people so I can’t wait to surprise them, especially my roommates and Vic. The people I did tell seemed excited for me but it’s only a handful. I’m still slightly in shock that this was able to happen, and I can’t wait to meet all the cats today. Even if I don’t bring one home immediately, at least I’ll get to be in a giant room full of cats. Having an emotional support animal really is a step forward for my mental health at college. I’m really looking forward to today.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-07 10:02 pm
Entry tags:

Internal Narrative of a Panic Attack (Take It With A Grain of Salt)

Sometimes I get consumed by this thought that everything I say and do is annoying. Just now I tried to say to myself “you know it isn’t like that” but it made it worse. I feel like I’m too weird and too awkward that it makes me boring. Even today I expressed to an older work friend of mine that I was worried I was uninteresting at parties and he said it “adds up”. I pretended to be fine with it but I can’t stop thinking about it. I am constantly reassured of the fact that I don’t fit in. I am burdensome if anything. Like, I hung out with some coworkers the other night and I felt so out of place and quiet. When I was sat there with them in the car they said things about other people that I felt were cruel. I don’t want to think people are always mean and judgmental like that. I don’t feel critical of others like that and I hope I never am because I know I am ostracized in a similar way. It makes me feel like I shouldn’t talk at all. Like everything I say is completely worthless unless it inflates someone else’s ego. It stresses me out beyond belief that I can do nothing more than flatter people to get them to like me. Beyond that, I bring nothing to the table unless the person in question shares one of my highly specific laser-focused interests. You know, like nuclear incidents and mermaids and structural collapses and other normal things. I feel like many people blow me off when I talk about my interests. Everything has become a performance. When others don’t react to things I say the way I anticipate it makes me confused and anxious. Sometimes I ramble and I don’t realize it. I feel like I am being patronized constantly because my social incapacities are at the forefront of people’s impression of me. It makes me want to shy away from everyone and hide. I can’t tell if I’m right to feel this way or just pathetically sensitive. It’s a very lonely feeling.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-02 09:29 pm
Entry tags:

Even A Worm Will Turn

Oh, the horror! The disarray! The day has come, January 2nd, the day to end all days...

Not really, but I did fight with Mom today so that was fun. I'm being a bit playful with this. I can't say what happened was exactly bad, but obviously quarreling with a family member isn't a desirable occurrence.

As this guy I don't know from the 1500's once said, "Treade a worme on the tayle, and it must turne agayne." Clearly that shit makes no sense, but the common translation of this phrase in the modern day is one I keep particularly close: "Even a worm will turn." It means that even a timid person can reach their limit and retaliate at some point, and today I experienced it at its finest.

The situation between Mom and I has reached new levels. The conditions were delightfully perfect tonight. We were arguing like usual but then she said something along the lines of "I hate being abused by my children". That's when I completely snapped. I'm not really one to yell, but I did shout briefly to let her know I was serious and we entered an hour long argument. I told her that August and I talked, and that we both hate being home, and that she has traumatized us with her behavior and needs a damn therapist. Of course she didn't seem to absorb a single word of it, but when does she ever listen. I am sincere when I say that watching her pathetically defend herself through tears was enough. After the screaming I was pretty collected while riding the high, and after about an hour of clarifying how much we hate being around each other we settled on some terms. She demanded my respect, which I just scoffed at. I told her if she wants respect then she better start giving it. Here were all the things I requested of her:

- She can no longer invade my privacy (physically and digitally)
- She has to stop devaluing me because of my age
- I get to go where I want when I want without her permission
- I don't have to "watch my profanity"
- She can't make comments about how I spend my money
- When I point things out to her, she can't react by throwing a fit every single time
- She must consider going to therapy

In return, I have to "respect her back". If she can meet my requirements I guess I will to keep it amicable (I need my tuition money) although either way I will be pretending. I tried to tell her that all of these demands should go without saying for a person my age, but apparently I'm crazy for that. If she ever disrespects them, I will wreak a havoc unknown to her with this confidence. And anyways, she is the one person I can never forgive. Even though we worked something out tonight, she proved why I hate her even further. She committed to trying to justify every example of abusive behavior I threw at her, and even denied some of the horrible memories that have stuck with me since childhood. It was pretty unsettling watching her paint herself as a saint before me, claiming she is the victim in all of this. She is not the type of person to ever admit she's wrong, and I don't think she actually believes she ever is. My mother is an emotionally abusive person, and if anything, I am thrilled that she wants me gone just as much as I want to leave. This argument disturbed me deeply, but I'm glad I finally lashed out. She deserves it. I'm sick and tired of living under the control of others, especially a manipulative person like herself. Now I am one step closer to being free. The rest will come after college.

So yeah, hopefully this is one of the last entries I ever have to make about this. I feel like it's the only thing on my mind since I've come home. It has been constant work and stress recently, so not much desire to write about anything else. Mentally I'm not in the best place but that was probably the catalyst. Maybe now things can be a bit easier at home, but I can't say that's the goal. The goal is to make it to the 17th and go the fuck back to college.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2022-01-01 02:35 pm
Entry tags:

A New Year On Dreamwidth

So I've been keeping a blog for almost an entire year now. I consider 2021 to be "The Year I Started Writing" and I have seen so much improvement in so many areas, both personally and with skills. When I started keeping a regular journal, I didn't know that I would be going into a writing-heavy major so it has definitely come to my aid.

My first entries here are pretty basic. Mostly descriptive writing and imagery; there's a lot of entries I don't really care for anymore. When I look back at the first anecdotes I wrote, there is a distinct lack of detail that I feel I've grown out of with time. Dreamwidth, for me, is all about putting my daily experiences and emotions into words and to do that accurately takes time, patience, and usually hours in front of my keyboard. I have clearly become more efficient at articulating my thoughts and ideas, even in regular everyday speech.

I also attribute my sharper memory to regular writing, which has made me much more acute to detail than I ever was in the past. Putting something on paper makes gives it a permanent place in my brain. Most, if not all of things I've written about here are stories I can bring up off the top of my head and explain in full detail. It's a stark change considering I used to be quite scatterbrained and forgetful. Fleshing out a memory in full has made me a stronger storyteller, which I think will serve to benefit me in my future career. But even just with my personality, I am able to think more critically and make more connections between ideas. It has made this year one of the most important in terms of my beliefs and ethics.

I originally chose Dreamwidth because it is the place where no one expects a person of my age to be. It's sleepy, private, and very manageable compared to many modern social media or blog platforms. I have much more control over who sees my writing, and it is easily customizable which was a huge plus when I was looking for a blog site. This being said, I have also developed a love for this platform because the vibe is so different from the other mediums I interact with in my daily life. Here I can sort of unwind and talk freely. I don't set boundaries for my writing here like I do for other platforms like Instagram. It is, in every aspect, an outlet where I don't have to fear the judgement of others and I think that is fundamental in my self expression.

I think the most significant thing I have learned from 2021 is that I really do have a passion for writing. It is something I love to do, and I think about it constantly. Regardless of whether I'm writing about some stellar experience I had or bitching about my life, I truly enjoy every moment I am able to sit in front of my computer and manifest whatever it is I'm feeling. It has become an irreplaceable part of my life.

I am looking forward to another year on Dreamwidth, hopefully with more writing in these early months than last year. The winter months tend to be my roughest, but writing has put into perspective just how temporary (yet valuable) these experiences are. I already have some entry ideas in mind for this month and I am excited to talk about them.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-28 10:09 pm
Entry tags:

Lazlow

Today was not good.

It hurts to watch an animal in it's last moments. Such a destructive feeling. I experienced an almost unfathomable deal of grief and distress today over Lazlow, my poor fish, who is hanging on by a thread amidst illness that has caused him to take a turn for the worst. If things weren't worse, my work schedule means I just can't be there for him in his final days. Today, I gave him some medications to make his death as painless as possible. I felt sick myself when I saw him laying on his side, gasping and lethargic, and hardly able to move.

With it comes a flood of overwhelming guilt that is objectively unreasonable for such a small animal. The way I see it, aquariums are spaces that are completely controlled by the caretaker. The condition of the animals inside is the owner's complete responsibility. I know fish are sort of feeble, fickle animals to keep but I can't help but think that I have failed Lazlow despite my best efforts. He was one of the best fish I've ever kept, too. He was active and clever and I drained my bank account this last month trying to save him, but I just couldn't. I feel dreadful about it. I know it's unhealthy to think this way, but all I can tell myself is that I should've done better and that I failed. Lazlow brought me so much joy. I wish Will were here because he understands what it's like.

I just hope my fish is able to pass away peacefully.

Also, my dad wasn't able to come check on my animals with me today, unfortunately. But to make things worse, when I got home tonight my parents and I got into a screaming match which sucked because when people yell at me I just start crying. I always storm out because I get scared. I wish I could just be strong all the time, and stand up and defend myself, but I always end up with my tail between my legs. My parents were upset at me because of all these trivial little things and I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong anymore. It's my mom who always initiates these arguments but my dad will butt in if he's in the room and make things 100x worse by raising his voice at me. It makes me feel like I can't trust him either when he automatically takes Mom's side. Living here is just an absolute nightmare, far worse than it has ever been, and I'm becoming agitated. Impatient. I want to go home. If I had it my way, I would have stayed at the apartment for the holidays with my animals. It feels pathetic that cold-blooded animals with few emotions bring me more comfort and warmth than most people in my life.

takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-27 08:16 pm
Entry tags:

August, Mother, & A Sick Fish

Today I finally got to talk to my sibling.

I mentioned a few entries back that I was planning to go to Philly with August, but the COVID spike ruined our plans. Fortunately, due to recent events, we have been on good terms this past week. It feels good to have natural conversations and to get to know them.

Today, August asked me if I wanted to go to the convenience store. I was all up in a project and said no at first, until I realized I would totally regret not spending time with them. You know I like a person if I halt my fixations just to hang out with them. I was wondering prior to coming home how I might bring up talking about Mom when the moment arose, but with everything that happened on Christmas, it was fairly easy. We talked about it, and it wasn't anything tear jerking but I am so relieved that I have someone to talk to about this.

August said that therapy helped them understand how much of their issues were caused by Mom. Therapy also partially helped me come to that conclusion. We talked about how she projects all of her insecurities on us, and how she is so obsessed with treating us like girls. We both have distinct memories about being preteens and having her tell us we needed to start shaving. Bizarre things. August says that Mom is still overbearing with them, even though they live 800 miles away for most of the year. Through text I always found it more manageable, but maybe that's because I am still in New Jersey. Seeing as August was obviously my mother's favorite child, I imagine her concern is overwhelming and annoying. Also, August is one of the few people who have seen the extent of my OCD just from living with me. I told them how that impacted my relationship with Mom, who has always had an obsession with the appearance of my hair and told me in middle school that I would look "ugly at prom and graduation and throughout college" (as if I had a choice). Obviously I am not the only one who dealt with self-esteem issues created by Mom. August says that coming home is difficult because they are subject to her constant guilt-tripping and sobbing sessions, something they label as "suburban white woman syndrome". We agreed that she has no emotional intelligence, and we both deal with the same guilt. A person we hate also pays for our amazing lives away from her.

It was an indescribable relief to get that all off my chest, and I think August probably feels similarly. I think this was a necessary and forward step in our relationship.

Anyways, I've been up to the usual stuff. Or, well, usual in terms of North Jersey. Work has been awesome because I missed everyone there so much. The people I work with are so sincere and tight-knit. I also had an eye-opening conversation with a customer yesterday who is Jamaican and told me that many of the cultural products made in America are bastardized and modified to prioritize white demographics. It was interesting hearing his experiences with it because his ethnicity has such a rich culinary aspect. I love when small talk snowballs into full on conversations like that. In this case, he had asked me if I'm able to figure a person out from the food they buy, and somehow we got into a long-winded discussion about whitewashing. What a cool guy. I always feel lucky when people like that somehow end up on my line.

I just called my dad and we are going to stop by my apartment tomorrow to check on my lizards and fish. Lazlow is sick right now and I've been worrying about it all week. I did my best to treat him before I left for break, but 10 days is a VERY long time to leave a fish that needs daily water changes and unfortunately this was the soonest I could go back to check on him. I'll feel really horrible if he dies, even though I am confident I've done all that I can. Poor Lazlow. I think about him every day. Bringing him home with me was too risky, but maybe I will try that now because he needs treatment and I need the peace of mind. If he has died, I will be absolutely heartbroken. At least in that case my dad will be there to console me.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-25 04:21 am
Entry tags:

Who Doesn’t Love Christmas?

I should probably write about how this Christmas sucks already, or how much stress I’m under, or how my mom said a racial slur at dinner last night and no one knows how to face her tomorrow, but I am sincerely too shocked to even know where to begin. I don’t want to sit here and preach about “the good stuff” either so I guess I’m in limbo at 3:50 AM on Christmas Day.

I am really sick of being here. I can’t wait to go back to college. Whatever shit I was complaining about while I was there pales in comparison to the torture that is my pathetic, decrepit mother who decided that saying the n word (with the hard r) was appropriate at dinner last night. Yeah. My sibling immediately engaged in argument with her and I simply put my hands up and went to my room. My mom stupidly defended herself and even tried to argue that us saying “ACAB” was comparable to racial slurs… to which I let out a deliberate, scornful laugh through the door. Later, I heard her trying to rationalize something to August through crying and pleading but I don’t know what came of that. Probably nothing. It’s hard to stay asleep from how anxious this situation has made me.

I wish a falling out would happen and I could be estranged from the woman altogether. I am thinking about starting work at school and trying to get my biggest assets in my name, such as my car, insurance, lease, etc.. There’s no way I can make that much while I’m studying but I figure the more financially independent I can be, the more control I can exercise over my familial relationships as a whole. I can’t hide my disdain forever.

I hope my mom is feeling the whole extent of shame and abandonment she deserves to feel for how she acts. When I said goodbye to my grandparents last night, she gave me this forlorn, teary look and I just stared blankly back. All the facades I put up just to tolerate her dissolved in that moment alone, so maybe she knows how I truly feel about her now. I fucking hope so. I hope she feels helpless and ashamed, but knowing her, she will probably bury the feeling of being wrong deep down until she can pretend that all is normal.

At least for me, this is just further proof. Evidence that my parents’ authority is not one to be heeded. My mother is not a respectable person, and given my tendency to forgive, I need every reason I can get to prove it to myself. I never imagined that my family might reach this level of chaos and misery, but we are well on our way. When I put everything into perspective, I just feel really disappointed and hurt. I don’t want to face the morning at all.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-22 11:39 pm
Entry tags:

The Battle of Brooklyn

I’ve been sort of busy recently. I got my job back so that’s kept me busy these last few days, as well as seeing some friends while I’m home. Things are so-so right now, even though it’s 3 days until Christmas.

I did however have an awesome experience last Friday, this time out of my own effort and volition, and it required some pulled strings and meticulous planning. I decided I wanted to see a death metal show in Brooklyn whether my parents would let me or not. Knowing right off the bat that they would refuse to let me go if I told them, I decided to not tell them at all. If they were to find out, I would be in more trouble than I can even fathom because I’ve never betrayed my parents so hard before. This was a huge risk for me, but luckily I am a prolific planner.

Maybe back in the Golden Age of underground music, lying to one’s parents was much easier. Back then there was no phone tracking, no online transaction histories, no Metrocard or anything of the sort. Unfortunately, these were all limiting factors for me. Really the only huge hurdle was making sure I had the cash and means of getting about without my parents being able to see it digitally. So I took $40 out from the bank and prayed no one would ask questions. I told my parents that Amanda and I were going into the city to see the Rockefeller tree, a half truth since it was in my itinerary, but I assured them we would not be using the subways and would stay in Manhattan. And I did drag Amanda’s pop punk-loving ass along for the ride because I’ve been meaning to take her to a show just to see what would happen. She helped me cover my tracks, too, because Amanda’s a real one.

Anyways, I created a cover story so that I knew exactly what to say if my parents asked me about the day. Instead of going to the Lego store and crowded Bryant Park like loser tourists, Amanda and I took the L train to Brooklyn and had pizza margherita in a moody restaurant out in peaceful, foggy Brooklyn. Afterwards, we made our way to the tiny venue and experienced what I can only describe as the most ironic form of relaxation ever.

Gold Sounds is a rather quaint punk bar. Outside, a group of people in elaborate outfits were smoking and laughing amidst a melancholy and empty street. It was pretty tolerable for a rainy day in December outside, but behind the doors arose a vibrant and sweltering atmosphere of chain-clad patrons and blaring music. Two buff men sat at a table playing Connect 4 as others watched and cheered. A disco ball swirled above a line of people all waiting to get into the venue area, which could accommodate about 40 people. When we reached the front, a cheerful employee viewed our vaccine cards, took our money, and drew Ts on our hands so we could enter. In the box, sound techs played with a plethora of wires running from the sound booth to the shallow stage. Amanda and I sat on some haphazard chairs in the right corner of the room and waited.

I like the time before shows start, when you are just standing in the venue with a couple other people and the band is setting up. Amanda and I had conversations with a few people, including a washed up former punk double our age and a PA punk who I especially hit it off with. I have a tendency to meet interesting people, but I always seem to have the most in common with people at these types of shows. I personally think I identify with it the most. Amanda on the other hand had stars in her eyes talking to these people, and I really liked that. Some dudes we saw at the restaurant were there, so she was talking with them and they invited us out to drink. Obviously we couldn’t, but those gestures always make me unreasonably content.

And when the music started, we were immediately blown away. As usual, I succumbed to the noise easily and became totally present. Heavy, fast, loud music used to overwhelm me in a bad way but now I love being surrounded by it. It relieves all of the tension in my body. Headbanging with all those people, as well as one of my closest friends, was truly an unbeatable feeling. Frankly, once I was there herniating myself I felt a bit smug and proud that my mom didn’t know where I really was. I guess the teenage rebellion came a little late for me. Lying is not something I do easily, but even in a case like this I felt justified in my actions. Mostly because I was doing what I love with a person I cherish, and because I could prove to myself that I could exist outside of my parents’ parameters. Amanda and I had such a good time in Brooklyn, and I wouldn’t trade that night for anything.

After the show ended, we made our way back to Manhattan and took pictures at Rockefeller Plaza. The tree was gorgeous, and the night was so humid that looking up, the buildings all dissolved in the dispersed light. I’d never seen anything like it. In Port Authority, now at about 10:00, I played a public piano and we waited for the bus home. Amanda kept telling me how much fun she had, and I was so relieved that she enjoyed it that much. I might be the only person who knows she has that intense side to her, and I’m glad I was able to bring it out. The night was truly perfect. My cover story worked, so I can officially say it was a fuck ton of fun and undoubtedly worth it.

In other news, I worked today and yesterday. I’ll talk about work tomorrow probably since I have the day off. I’ve got a bunch of miscellaneous stories to tell.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-18 07:16 am
Entry tags:

The Boys Are Killing Me

One thing on my bucket list that I was able to cross of the other day was plainly labeled “hang with The Boys”. There are no specific Boys in mind, I’ve just always had the desire to chill with a group of guys who call themselves “The Boys”. You know, just some dudes who are really close with each other to the point where they can shed all those masculine expectations set for them. From the outside, those groups of people always look so content and comfortable, even if they are doing stupid shit. I feel like, given my disposition, it’s the hardest type of group to infiltrate because of my sex so it has been on the list for awhile. I think I’m a little scary to most straight men. But I checked it off the other day thanks to Vic.

Vic grew up in Trenton with two people, Rony and Denzel, who are now his closest friends. He told me all sorts of stories about what it was like living in a poor area growing up and how their relationship got stronger as they got through it together. They were together almost every day apparently, mostly hanging out and getting high and sometimes shoplifting entire carts full of stuff from Walmart. But from the way Vic described his friends, I could tell they were both very interesting, intelligent people. Mostly because Vic is, too. Vic and I were both excited for me to one day meet them. Sure enough, that was the other night.

Something about being in a men’s dorm after 8:00PM feels a bit cursed. When I arrived, everyone was already baked and it was exactly what I anticipated from the so-called Boys. It was me, Vic, Rony, Denzel, and Vic’s roommate, Matt. Two of them were intently contemplating a game of chess, and the other two were playing Super Smash Bros. I received a brief cheer when I walked in, and immediately took a seat. Denzel asked me a lot of questions about myself and we had this great conversation about media. It’s so interesting, I’ve never met a guy like him before. He’s hilarious, to begin, but also really good at holding a conversation in a way that doesn’t feel one-sided. Same thing with Matt, who is a Literature major and was telling me about what his courses were like. They were so sweet and welcoming, and not in some weird creepy chivalrous sort of way. I immediately felt part of the group.

I’m quite analytical of that type of stuff. Conversations and dynamics and things like that. It’s really not every day that you can encounter a group of new people you feel instantly comfortable around, especially me since I always feel like I have to perform in groups like that. Admittedly, I overthought some things and probably said things that came off as sort of awkward ir nervous. I’m not known to be tactful. But they just don’t care, and that’s the difference. In situations like that sometimes I prefer to sit back and observe instead of actually interact, but I didn’t feel limited to that. One thing I found interesting was how a group of cisgender men could naturally generate a conversation on abortion (an agreeable one at that) and be so well spoken about it. I don’t meet a lot of men like that. Seriously, it was surreal. And really fun. REALLY fun. At one point we all crowded into Rony’s Toyota and went to the convenience store, where Denzel covered our ice cream costs and we all chilled out and watched a movie. They were such enthusiastic and kind people that I was able to loosen up for the first time in awhile, Vic and I have been so busy that it was much needed.

Vic also seemed pretty happy with how things went. He said it was exactly how he thought us meeting would go. I’m glad it went that way, too, just for his sake. Unfortunately, Rony and Denzel go to different colleges so they don’t come around often. But when they do, evidently I’ll be there for it because according to them I am now one of The Boys. Mission achieved.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-17 12:42 pm
Entry tags:

Family Dynamic

I came home to Pequannock for Christmas break yesterday. I don't really know if I should count this place as home anymore because it really doesn't feel like it. When I'm at college, my parents miss me and our interactions through call/text are fine. When I'm home, their judgement weighs down on me and makes me feel like a caged animal.

The terror began when I got pulled over yesterday. I was petrified because first of all, I hate authority, and second of all, I knew a ticket would be another reason for me to get chastised at home. Sure enough, it was. Even though I skimped away with a $55 obstructed view charge, my mom was immediately up my ass about it when I walked in the door. Neither parent greeted me. My presence feels so burdensome. "Pay the ticket." "Start looking for jobs." "Take care of this or that." Or whatever. How about "Hello"?

It doesn't matter if I pull all A's my first semester. It doesn't matter if I prove myself to be independent. My mom's satisfaction with me is so impermanent and conditional. I could win the goddamn Nobel Peace Prize and she would probably just find something to berate me for instead of congratulating me. Now that I actually have things worth being proud of, I feel like they aren't recognized. And when I'm home, my independence seems to suddenly mean nothing to these people. It makes me feel restricted. Being in this house is suffocating. I understand now why August is never around.

My dad doesn't really seem to be helping the whole situation... sort of unintentionally. He can tell that I'm not thrilled to be here and tries to make things better but I'm just not in the mood. I want to hang out with him, I really do, but I know I'll end up going on a tangent because of how I feel right now. I have been so unbelievably stressed these past couple weeks and there is no way to put that into perspective. Turning down my dad when he wants to spend time with me, even if it's for a good reason, makes me feel rude and unappreciative. I know I'm too hard on myself but regardless, I'm going to make sure I correct that. Maybe I'll ask him to go fishing with me this week or something.

Awhile back, I deleted a few entries I had written about my mom. I'm going to put them back. They were written at points when I was not on good terms with her. It makes me sad to think the only way we can exist peacefully is through long-distance communication. Judging by how Thanksgiving went, I don't have the highest hopes for this month, but I will make the best of it.

Speaking of August, I don't remember if I ever mentioned them here. August is my older sibling. They are 21 and go to college for graphic design in Georgia. We didn't have a great relationship growing up, if you even count it as a relationship. I always assumed they hated me when we were younger but it turned out that much of their withdrawn and defensive behavior was due to mental illness. Nowadays, we both are in better places and recently we began talking again. They are in Toronto right now but will be home for a few days, and we are actually going to hang out. I've never hung out with August. We grew up in the same house but know virtually nothing about each other. I'm really excited to hopefully have a healthy relationship with them. In the past I thought that it would be difficult because they are closer with my mom, but I'm not sure that's the case anymore. When we talked the other day, it came across as if they are just as dissatisfied in this house as I am, and that's a pretty clear sign to me. I want to talk about the trauma my mom inflicted when I was younger and for years I've known that the only person who could possibly understand that is my sibling. Looking back, they had to have had similar experiences as a kid because I remember listening as my mom screamed her head off at them until they couldn't breathe.

So yeah, that's what's new. Great entry, I know. Fortunately, I just got a call from my old job and I'll be working 30 hours next week so I won't be in the house too often. I need the gas money.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-13 10:55 pm
Entry tags:

Meditation

I think if I had to choose between the two, I'd rather be blind than deaf.

Back when I learned about meditation and practiced it more frequently, I read somewhere that sensory deprivation was the key to subjecting oneself to the vulnerability and focus needed to meditate. In CBT I was encouraged to practice meditation specifically because of this; actively engaging with secondary senses was a helpful grounding technique for overstimulation and has saved me on numerous occasions. Common practices taught in meditation are identifying secondary senses to create a unique "image" of an environment and its subtleties, and also to become present. For me, it helped develop my listening skills especially. I think now I'd rather be in a permanent state of listening and not seeing than seeing and not listening. Things like language, conversation, music, and the sounds of places are more moving to me than anything I can see.

With everything going on in the world and in my life I find it hard to get back to formal meditation, even though I know from experience how beneficial it is for me. A lot of my writing here recently has been bitchy and conceited to say that least, even though I know I'm better than that. I used to take 15 minute chunks every day to close my eyes and think and I want to meditate like that again. I hardly practice voluntarily anymore, but some of the traits I developed from meditation are as potent as ever, especially traits that keep me happy. And that's where I think meditation and mindfulness practices are misunderstood in general. It's not sitting with your legs crossed and your fingertips together until you float, it's taking time to understand yourself and changing your mindset. When I was really honed in the art, back in late 2018 and early 2019, I would meditate on the bus, at school, and anywhere I really felt I could. I definitely attribute that practice to helping me deal with things I was going through at the time, and I was able to come out of situations as healthily as I probably could. I suddenly found ways to manage my OCD and anxiety, and I became a stronger person. Meditation is much more redeeming as an unconscious behavior than an active "tool" that is only used on occasion. The introspective skills that I developed during regular practice are without a doubt the most important ones I possess now because they enable me to have control over my mind and my body in a way that I never had previously.

Specifically with mediation, I remember one of the first realizations I made was that I am the only person who has control over my reactions to the outside world, and that totally opened the gate for me. It is a lot of responsibility to wake up to, and I think it's very... human to deviate from that line of thinking. Knowing that simple fact is the foundation for more intuitive, meaningful thinking. For instance, to elaborate on reactions, I think the next best epiphany was understanding that life is a very trivial, little thing that is hard to keep in perspective. We should think about what really matters to us, and what is really important in life. It's humbling to ask ourselves those questions, and it can change a person overnight. Suddenly a scuff on your new shoes doesn't annoy you. Being late for something is no longer so upsetting. And then you work yourself up to bigger things like getting lost or a fender bender or a parking ticket. Even if you want to let things like that get to you, why would you choose to be so angry all the time? The best realization to make is straight up that shit like that isn't worth it, especially if it's out of your control. It's not THAT important. You can choose to let it go and remain levelheaded. Once you get a handle on that, everything changes because suddenly you can evaluate if something is important and react to it accordingly. It can be something as simple as that. And yes, I'm aware that with all the stupid frustrations and triumphs I talk about on here it probably seems I don't take my own advice, and in some cases it certainly escapes me, but I hardly ever feel agitated by things that are out of my control anymore. Did wonders for my OCD, honestly.

I guess that's more of an example of evaluating what isn't important, though. When it comes to important things, introspection forces you to redefine your goals and intentions. I asked myself the same question for several different time brackets. What's important to me now? What will be important down the line? And what's important to me overall? Well for the first one, I can certainly say that my relationships are important to me, and establishing healthy support networks for myself. Down the line I place importance in stability, a meaningful career, and travelling. What is important to me overall, and I've stated it here before, is understanding as much as I possibly can about the world and being a genuine and loving person. Yes, even though humans have essentially doomed the world at this point. That can be a very overwhelming sense of hopelessness at times, but again, it's out of my control. I’d rather work with what I’ve got than feel limited by issues I can’t fix.

Those are just a couple key things that I've learned from meditation. I could get into how it made me a better person and changed my relationship with myself and my body, but ultimately I think it's better for people to come to those things on their own. Things like that are honestly pretty private to me, even though they are probably great writing topics. There came a point with meditation where I was completely in control of myself, and it has mostly stayed that way since. I place a lot of value in that. I was not exactly the most self-disciplined or happy child growing up despite my innocence, so I'm glad I was able to learn from it. In the end, I don't really regret or even loathe any of that because it eventually got me here, didn't it? Well, it's not like I endured the most despairing horrors known to man either, so maybe I just had an advantage.

Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that introspection flipped my life around completely at one point. I really should get back to practicing meditation. It's why I'm able to handle dissociation at the grocery store and also the reason I started keeping a blog. But it's more than that, too. I hope that many people are able to find the peace and relief that I have found in it. Especially with the current state of the world.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-08 09:12 pm
Entry tags:

The Peace of Wild Things by Mark Peterson

Alone and left to contemplate,
had I a pair of wings,
I’d fly away and search the world
for the peace of wild things.

To live among the animals
and sense their lack of guile
existing in the here and now,
each moment spent worthwhile.

And free of life’s addictions,
material wealth and greed—
possessing very little,
according to the need.

But should I ever so depart
it’s uncertain I’d return,
for then I'd have a lifetime’s worth
of so much to unlearn.
takethisforexample: (Default)
2021-12-07 10:01 am
Entry tags:

Gendahfluid

Since the semester started I've had quite a few uncomfortable encounters with people who just don't have a grasp on gender identity at all. Either that or they are deliberately disrespectful to me on purpose. Being non-binary and asking people to respect your pronouns (mine are they/them) is a great way to see how much a person is willing to understand you, and although my friend Vic is great with it, I can't say the same for other people at my university. I am still astonished by how little effort people are willing to afford me.

Things were good for the first month and a half. I'm not some pronoun Nazi who constantly bashes people for messing up my name or pronouns when I meet them. I don't get ridiculously uncomfortable by it either, and this has never been a problem. However, when you have to remind someone over the course of months to use your fucking pronouns it gets annoying. This one girl in my Mass Communications course, Jayda, is a repeat offender of wrong pronouns and although I've kindly asked her multiple times, she never improves. One of the hardest parts about being trans for me is being forward about these things because I don't like being a forward person. However, it has reached a point where Jayda makes the same degenerate excuse each time. Finally the other day I put my foot down and straight up told her how disrespectful she is for not even trying. And of course, the same daft apology. I don't care if it's the end of the semester. If she does it again I will straight up tell her how dislikable she has made herself.

In addition to Jayda, a couple weeks ago I realized that my professor in Mass Comm didn't even change my name in her roster. It wasn't a problem with attendance before so I didn't think anything of it. Until the other day when she announced my deadname to the class, which was bad by itself, but immediately after she corrected herself and so now everyone in that class knows my deadname. When I hear that name it fills me with dread. What made things worse was that a transphobic asshole in my class named Steve referred to me by it. If I weren't in class I would've hit him. I want so badly to tear the shit out of that guy, but I can't. The same kid told me he "doesn't have pronouns" so I stopped using them for him when I speak to him. I only refer to him by his name, Steve, and it's funny because he tries to be nice about it. Whenever someone messes up my name or pronouns in class, Vic and I just look at each other and laugh about the absurdity of it. The degree to which people just don't give a shit is amazing.

Aside from that, I've had professors mess it up innocently and just not know the etiquette of what to do in that situation. I'm not going to blame people for not being educated about the interests of trans people. But it definitely pisses me off when we are required to give our pronouns for something. I know it's supposed to create a "safer space", but my pronouns are something I'd rather not share until I talk one on one with someone and I know many people are the same way. It's annoying and pretentious for people to go around sharing their pronouns in my opinion. But I don't speak for everyone, I like to be more private about my gender identity and expression and I wish no one would even ask about it, frankly. I'm more than enthused to explain things to close friends or people who approach me because they want to learn. But I don't like having my pronouns on display like that, I don't like being exposed.

I'm definitely nitpicking. I didn't come out in high school so I never dealt with transphobia in person before. Online it's so easy to block people or humiliate them, but I can't beat the shit out of Steve/Steveself in class. I swear I don't even think about my gender identity until people pull shit like this. I didn't make a choice to be genderfluid. Maybe when the semester ends I'll invite that Steve kid out to a dark alley and kick him in the balls.