Make fun of me.

Here's a list of things that people could possibly make fun of me for:

- I'm a vegetarian
- I'm cross-eyed
- I'm really awkward
- I live in a swamp
- I don't have my license
- I've done dumb things
- I'm not religious or spiritual in anyway
- I'm kinda a feminist
- I don't workout that often
- Sometimes I wear ugly things and am not aware of it until later on in life
- I was an ugly kid and still am
- I'm into arts in university... so I'm not smart in the eyes of the science people!
- I can never make decisions for myself, I usually screw up
- I try and usually fail in hilarious ways
- I can't argue very well
- I make pitiful lists like this
- I get lost in the past
- I don't make friends easily
- I'm confused about what I'm doing in my life

My mom would say that all these things are what the perfect man would love about me... but that's my mom.

Anyways, this all started because I'm an idiot and I looked at my ex's blog. I cried so much I actually threw up.... I know eh? Never happened before. He wrote something about talking to his mom about me and laughing about me and our relationship. It hurt a lot. After all, our relationship wasn't laughable. It was great. I loved spending time with him and I thought he did too. Maybe he's just writing these things to help him get over me, to not care anymore. I think that's the worst way to live. Why should you forget all the great moments in your life? Why should you destroy what made you who you are and what made you happy once?

I wouldn't care if he was dating someone else, I care so much that all the good memories of our relationship are laughable to him. That I am worthless.

I can't establish this enough, I am so fucking self-conscious I think I might be insane.

You Call That Mature?

Fact: People grow up. Another fact: People put too much importance on maturity. Maturity is just a word. Like many other words it is used too much, to frequently inflate peoples' egos.

People tell you that you are mature for your age. BTW: not a complement. AKA: You are not as stupid and annoying as I assumed you would be when I found out that you were a teenager. Immaturity makes life interesting. If the whole world was made of mature people, topics on a rainy day would range from tax returns to what specific colour the wall paint is. So let's PLEASE stop acting like mature adults while we still have our childhood. Someday you will look back on yourself and hate that you never embraced your childish natures. But, if you had put so much importance on maturity, you will also see your childish self as an idiot. When, truly, that's just the way we start out. And you'll ask yourself in the most secluded part of your mature brain what you were thinking when you did those supposedly "MATURE" things, because to the future you, you were as egotistical as they come. I was there with you when you bragged about being so much more fucking mature than us, sorry to tell you but, it was kind of ironic. Do you really think that a mature person would brag about being mature? Jesus fucking Christ. You call that mature? Keep denying that immaturity is biting at your heels, keep running and looking behind you. I seriously hope you trip and fall, because once you do, there will be no one there to pick you up off your ass. Maturity means nothing, neither does immaturity. It's the way people act that make them mature or immature individuals. Mature means being responsible, responsible for your actions, responsible for your stupidity, and responsible for your health. But, that's just me looking through your smoke filled eyes and don't try telling me that your life is so bad that you have to do all this shit. Try thinking about people who matter for once. Your problems, my problems, are not worth reading. I hope this is a phase and that it ends soon.

Among the Ranks of Other Famous Fat Heads

I was published once again in the newspaper. I got that poem called "What If?" in the August addition. I was very very pissed that the lady who put it in the paper didn't correct the mistake that I pointed out to her in an e-mail. It went something like this:

Before:
While the strong were forced to made a deal with the devil.

After w/ correction:
While the strong were forced to make a deal with the devil.

Then I received an e-mail back that said:

Done. Thanks.

I'm beginning to think that the bitch was laughing at me. If you say that sentence with sarcasm it explains everything. Writing is quiet ironic. You write a sentence or many and they could be taken anyway that the reader wants to take it. Maybe she intended to say, "What's the big deal. You are sixteen and you wrote a poem that sucks. I have better things to do than correct a mistake you should have noticed before you sent it, so ya! Thanks for the tip. I'm gonna go an get a coffee so I can stay awake long enough to kill myself."

It put a damper on a great day, I have to admit. Whatever, it was partly my fault. Geeezzus even when I sent in a picture of my bunny ABIE she spelt her name wrong in the paper. Jessica Shelley's bunny Albie. Albie? As in the racist dragon?

Shrug it off. Shrug it off. Is it possible? My dad read my story in the paper. The one about THAT day. He didn't say anything. I cried in my room. The same as time and time before when my dad lets me down. I shouldn't cry I know, not over him. I'm sick of wondering what it means, but after I told him that I was published again he told me that he could see me famous. Can I see me famous? Naa. I may be a fat head sometimes but I could never do it full time. I told my mom something when she said that I have talent. I said, "It comes and goes." The scary thing about writing is that after you finish a story you always wonder if that's the last one or if there is another, will it be as good? The world is full of the broken glass of broken goals. You know in school when they try to get you to have goals? Well it's all some sort of conspiracy designed to get you to do great things. I'm too lazy. Way too lazy. I could never get a job working with people. For one thing I don't like them and the other, I'd let them down. One thing that people forget about famous people is that they are still people and when they fall or stumble we love it because it reminds us that even golden plated people get scratched by broken glass. I guess deep down some people hide it, but it shows now and then. Stop hiding silly, come out and play. Embrace your jumbled thoughts, if you can gather enough energy to hold them. I know that I'm too lazy to care. How about you?

When Talking No Longer Gets You Anywhere

I was watching the movie Your Mommy Kills Animals, which is about the animal rights movement. Mostly, it shunned Peta and groups that have lost their way. Well, I disagree with that statement on most parts. At least they are speaking out about a cause that seems noble. But, one thing these turd sandwiches said, was that they couldn't understand why wearing fur was so wrong. This one bitch from Australia said that she enjoyed wearing fur cause it was warm and that didn't mean that she hated animals. I was sort of laughing and crying at that point. How can you say that you love animals, yet kill them, skin them for your own benefit? It sickens me to think that these delusional people actually thing that wearing fur or leather is fine, when there are warmer, CHEAPER things to wear. Like a fucking ski jacket. All I can think about now is going up to that girl and showing her my bunny, letting her see the FACE of her fur. Like holy shit, not like it would change her mind about it, but it sure would give me the satisfaction of knowing that she can see how pissed I am. Just like people who have dogs or pets and eat meat, you ask them why it's OK to eat a cow when they would never eat their dog. It's so frustrating. This whole thing. Deep down my parents, and my whole family believe that vegetarianism is a phase, probably some teenager thing about having an identity. In a way it is. I've found who I am and I've found something to fight for. I look back and I hate that I once ate meat without thinking about the animal. I've always loved animals and recently I've seen my former self as one of those delusional turds that I get pissed at. I love that I'm finding who I am. For the first fifteen years of my life I was what I as told to be. Now, I'm thinking for myself, living for myself and loving every minute of it. But, anyways, back to the movie. It was also about the SHAC 7 convictions. And if you noticed, I added the homepage to my blog for anyone who is interested in the case. These people were tried as terrorists because they protested animal testing. None of the people who were convicted did any of the crimes. They were a representation of the whole activist group. They couldn't actually find the people they suspected of the crimes. The sentences ranged from 3 to 6 years and each person was fined 1 million dollars. These people were given a larger sentence than a rapist would have received or even a murderer in the UK. The funny thing is these "terrorists," were these geeky, skinny, vegans who wouldn't hurt a fly. The guy, Kevin Kajonaas, who got the highest amount of jail time was ambushed in his house by a SWAT team who put a gun to his head. The guy was 5'10 and weighed 120 pounds. I remember this thing he said in the movie that went something like this: "Just like time and time before the same questions are being asked. All this for a black? All this for a Jew? All this so women can vote? And now it's: All this for an animal?" He put words to the sad history that is being repeated over and over again. I'm SICK of crying myself to sleep because nothing I say is being taken as valuable information into any one's brain. I'm screaming in the dark, waiting for someone to tell me, not that they care or that they feel the same way, just that they can hear. I'm SICK of being made fun of because I haven't had a boyfriend. I guess it's kinda hard to find a boyfriend if the whole world thinks that you like girls. I've even began to doubt myself. I'm SICK of being laughed at because I TRULY BELIEVE THAT ALL ANIMALS ARE EQUALS. YES! Even the fucking birds and the worms. Everything has a right to life. I'm going to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life. I don't even care if it gets me nowhere in the end. I'd love to say that I hate everyone and everything, but I really don't. It's just a sickness that forms in my heart and has eaten its way out every time I'm told not to scream, not to cry, not to feel. Feelings tell us that we are alive. It's only after the fact that we see this. After the screaming fits and the tears. Sickness is a whole different story. Sickness is what I feel, bitter resentment and anger. But anyways, most of all I'm SICK of yelling into space. Empty space. There is not even an echo. If there was an echo I might be able to convince myself that it's really someone who gives a shit.

Final Fantasy X

WOOT WOOT! I finally beat that stupid bitch Yunalesca! Like who wears, well nothing when you are in a fight against people with swords? Yeah! I've been trying to beat her for like the past 24 hours. I haven't stopped playing and I'm hungry, I have to pee and my body is numb. She doesn't look that hard you say? Well, for someone who only uses Auron, Rikku, and Tidus... She is one hell of a bitch. Wow, you know you are a loser when... But at least I don't dress up like the characters... They call it cosplay. I call it dreaming.