Grizzly Bear - "Ready, Able"

This video is so... fucked.

I'm scared to reach out (bringing back insanity)

for the fear of pulling something unwanted back is too strong.

I have my eyes held tightly shut.

I can't tell where I am,
and I can only guess as to where you are.
It's the guessing that getting to me.

I'd like to know where my other half is and if he's alright.
But I know that I indefinitely gave up
all privileges to that knowledge.

I hold my eye so tight because the rest of me is unraveling.

---- Ah, Fuck it. ----

I should just embrace it.
Grasp all the swirling pieces of myself, all this shit:
then
Jump off a cliff and hope to God I fly.

And I'll say farewell to the love drug
my pants are staying on honey bunch
- so go back to fucking your friends
and go to bed alone
and while you're at it
- go smack your head full of reality.
(This can be obtained through excessive contact with a brick wall)

You're living in your dreams babe.
Time to wake up,
your sweet mommy's not holding your hand anymore.

The moral of this story is:

I'm above giving into my bodily urges

After all, "I'm a fucking bird" I tell you.
So: goodbye, farewell, I bid you adeu!
And I'll float off like Jeffrey in his hot air balloon.

Today

I got a "mole" on my back removed. Mole sounds so gross. I picture a big brown lump with a long black hair growing out of it. My "mole" was more like a freckle. Anyways, I went to the doctor's this morning not really knowing what to expect.

So I get there and undress, I lay down on a table and the doctor sticks a needle in my back and injects me with numbing solution. I really hate needles. But this wasn't too uncomfortable. She then took this hole-punch-looking thing and pressed it onto the mole. I didn't feel a thing. She then put two stitches in my back to close me up. I will have a scar, but that's ok. At least I wont have cancer.

I was a total champ. I didn't whine or feel sick or anything... Until I went to make a follow up appointment with a secretary immediately after. I felt fine as I waited in the line up... then I became incredibly tired and dizzy. My eyes couldn't focus and when I got up to the front of the line I saw that the secretary was talking to me, but I couldn't hear her. I know I replied to what I thought she said, but I couldn't even hear myself because my ears were ringing. I started breaking out into a cold sweat, and I guess I became super pale because the secretary jumped up and ran to my side. She guided me to a chair and went to get a nurse. By then I was past the point of actually fainting.

I spend about half an hour in a room where people were getting vaccinated... not a great place to put someone who hates needles and almost fainted. But I survived, they gave me apple juice which helped a lot. They asked me if I had anyone with me... I didn't, and thinking about not having anyone around made me sad, and made me miss "he who must not be named".

Then I left. Now the pain killer stuff they shot into my back has worn off and every time move I feel like I'm being pinched. Sleeping is not going to be fun. I'm going to get the stitches out in a week. My biggest fear is that I might rip one of them. I'm glad there's a huge bandage on my back because I really really don't want to see what kind of gore fest is happening back there! haha fun day :D Well it was just another adventure I guess.

Last night: I shook hands with a stripper. (read to the tune of "I'm in love with a stripper")

Last night was insane! I went to a bar with my floor. The fake my friend lent me worked and I was so excited! We all sat together and chilled. Apparently I might be living with all the guys from my floor. I'll have to share a room with my friend, but that's cool with me.

After the bar we went to a strip club. It was pretty lame. I though it would have been raunchy and sexy... nope. Just girls dancing half nude. Sorta expected. Whatever. I met a creepy old guy outside after who said I was hot and then fell into the street. That was my only action for the night. I hope he got home safe.

Anyways, it was a once in a lifetime experience. Like Disneyland with all of its creepers and stupid fun, but with more illegal activity and nudity.

The LOOP

The internet is a dangerous place. I'm not talking about all the scams, child pornography or sexual predators by the way. I'm talking about all the temptations to creep facebook profiles and blogs of past loves. It's a deadly practice that can keep a person up all night. I for one am never creeping again. It is way too hurtful to find out the things that go on in a person's life and mind no longer center around you anymore.

I have to accept that I'm out of the loop for good this time.

Keep me sane, please!

The only thing keeping me sane is the idea that maybe in the future, fate, in all its magical bullshit delusional glory, will bring us together again.

He Has Moved On

So ya, I dumped a guy because we made each other miserable. For awhile I thought I would be ok. I didn't think about him every second of everyday. I pursued other guys and knowing that other guys liked me helped as well. He would call me at least 2-3 times a week to try and win me back. Me: thinking that I was already over him, told him to get over me and start dating other people. Now we haven't talked in weeks and I'm at home surrounded by memories. And to top it all off it's fucking Christmas, where all the songs are about spending Christmas with the one you love or spending it miserable and alone. So, now I know exactly how he was feeling when he said that he thinks about me everyday. I know that he's probably not anymore. That's a reasonable assumption. He said something about dreaming about me despite trying to get over me.


I had a dream last night that I was alone at an amusement park. I love the ferris wheel, so I was got on alone and when I was waiting for it to start, he got in with me. He didn't say anything, just sat beside me and let me rest my head on his shoulder while he put his arm around me. (I miss the little things.) And then I woke up. I wanted to go back so badly that I stayed all day in bed.

I'm like the kid that doesn't want a toy when no one's playing with it, but as soon as it's taken away she cries and cries and begs for it back. I just want to be normal again. Happy.

Why Do I Torture Myself?

I know the answer, it's pretty simple. No matter how many times I tell myself that he's not right for me, I'll always love him. He can go ahead and flirt with other girls, I destroyed everything because I am so FUCKING confused and I feel like screaming. I fucked around thinking that maybe I'd find someone who could fill this goddamned void I carved out of my life. I have no idea how to act, how to dress, look, flirt, survive, succeed, stay together... etc etc. I tell myself that I will be loved again, but I don't deserve it and I don't believe it. Three boys have loved me in my life and I threw them away. Maybe I'll end up a crazy cat lady. Love scares me, it's way too intense. I'm not happy, I haven't been happy. Things have been blowing up in my face because I stupidly do things (like accidentally pop balloons and spray frebreeze on lightblubs) that result in me shaking uncontrollably. I never experienced this kind of nervous attack before. I feel like I'm cold all over and sick with some kind of flu. The past few weeks I was pleased by lies. This whole ordeal is a complete mess. I hate coming home to the place where I met him. I tell my family that I'm an emotional wreck, but it sounds so dramatic... and it is. I'm really happy for him. I set him free at at time where he is "at the top of his game." I wish I could move on emotionally. But when guys flirt with me, I just want to punch them in the face. Well, I'd try to and probably fail miserably.

I hope the nervous shaking stops soon. I hope that my body doesn't quit on me after all the unnecessary things I've put it though. I sorry body :s please forgive me. I'm acting too much like myself.

Anyways, I'm not tired, so I'm probably going to watch old videos that I filmed with my friends from centennial. Fun times. For more fun here's me as I write this post (notice the tears, the very dramatic tears). Oh man... at least I can laugh at myself. I've still got that :D

The Stupid Things in Life

Since I've been in University, I have started to wonder what exactly makes people do stupid things. There's no doubt to the fact I've done a lot of stupid things in my life - some that I really should regret and perhaps never talk about again... but what's the fun in that? Anyways, I have two major exams tomorrow, so I'll try and wrap this up quickly with a convenient list of the top 7 stupid things I've sadly done, in no particular order:

7. Kissing my friend. Things became super awkward.
6. Taking one puff of a cigarette and hating it -don't worry, it was gross- (Swore to myself I never would when my aunt died of breast cancer.)
5. Vodka hospital list/Disappointing my parents.
4. Getting drunk and completely naked, somehow ending up in my friend's dad's office wrapped in a foam mattress cover.
3. Almost pulling out into oncoming traffic during a driver's lesson.
2. Drinking two energy drinks, smoking, and also drinking beer all in one night.
1. Accidentally (stupidly) taking too much medicine for my cold on an empty stomach -last night- and thus ended up puking and hallucinating for hours.

The funny thing is that I started off with a list of 5 and just started coming up with more. I'm just glad that I came out of all these experiences alive. I wonder if everyone has crazy stories to tell. I didn't think that I had much to hide until I considered all the crap that has happened over the years.

A sane person would say that they would go back in time and change it all. But, if time travel movies have taught us anything, it's that no matter how often time repeats itself, you'll probably just end up doing the same things over again:

I kissed my friend because I liked him. I knew it would be awkward in the morning, but at the time I didn't care. I wanted him to know.

I took that puff of the cigarette because it was offered and at the time I wasn't thinking for myself.

The vodka hospital visit happened because I honestly didn't know how much alcohol to drink or that alcohol effects people so quickly.

I got drunk at my friend's for fun, I passed out in her bed and that's all I remember. It was the first time I ever blacked out (without a hospital visit). The shit that happened after, happened without me being fully conscious.

My driving slip up happened because I don't pay enough attention when I'm driving. I'm insecure about my eyesight and once I get stressed I can't concentrate.

All the drinking, smoking and alcohol consumption happened because I wanted to see what it felt like.

And finally, last night was stupid because I didn't eat and took medicine. But, because I'm sick I don't have an appetite.

All of these things happened because of the choices I made, many which were made without better judgment. But the one thing I can't stand is being with someone who is a constant reminder of these sad and very embarrassing lessons I've learned. Afterall, I have my own fine memory. An outsider, father figure, telling me what is best without participation or passion, is the last thing I need. Unless you're standing next to me when I'm about to fuck up, you have no right to tell me you told me so or that you have a right to look down on me. I'd rather be in this big fucked up world of stupid experimenting human beings than in a glass world of naive robot perfection and isolation.

Last Night: Boy Time

All the girls went home to study for exams; all of the girls except for me and Rohan's friend. Everyone, but mostly Dylan, was trying to wheel the other girl because she was really pretty. But in the end her grandma called her and asked her to come home. That was the chirp of the night: "Dylan got cock blocked by grandma".

I was so fun hanging with the guys. Although, being the only girl from the floor, I got chirped a lot. I was the DJ for the night. I sat at Cole's laptop and took requests, mostly because I ran out of beer and Mike left (he was spotting me some). We played quarters, hockey, beer pong and COD. I lost at COD. It was Dylan against Fernando, Andy and me. I didn't kill anyone. I've actually never killed anyone in COD. It is probably the hardest game to play while intoxicated. Anyways, the three of us losing to Dylan meant that we had to streak. I left my bra and panties on of course.


It was one of those crazy nights that only happen once. For a good reason too, I lived a little to much last night. Now it's time to study Psychology and Canadian History like the good university student that I am.

The Fine Art of Finding Yourself

I love the fact I get goose bumps when I hear a certain song. Even kisses give me the bumps. My lips are ticklish and my heart is weak. Today I learned that we are all trapped by our inability to be socially imaginative. I wish I could see the greater implication of myself in this big picture.

Everyday I push my boundaries, silence the screams of my inner super shy girl, and take daring steps in an untraveled land. I meet new people constantly, each eager to find someone to replace a certain best friend they left at home.

I never thought I could be this happy without my family around me. But the thing is, if ever I'm sad or aching for human contact, I have a floor full of friends to talk to. I never thought I would be reading so much in so little time. I enjoy keeping bust though. I can't imagine myself anywhere else at this point. A social environment was what I always needed.

Everyone here is going a little bit crazy. To an outside observer we are all crazy teens drinking too much and making noise in a quiet world. That outsider was me for the most part of my life. I was miserable and hateful of those people. I even told myself it was because they were just "crazy teens". Now that I'm in the center of it all, I can rightfully say that we are exactly what people fucking say. I'm crazy, I've always been crazy. The fact that I write that sentence with a grin on my face makes me crazier.

So, in my mind what's the point of living if you never test your limits? In this life there is but death. Why not intoxicate myself with new experiences based on love, drugs, feelings, people and knowledge? I'm experimenting with this new world I'm in and it sure as hell ain't quiet.

Before Boys and Broken Hearts

It's been a month today since I last wrote on this lovely blog and I think it's about time I reflect on who I am. Things haven't been very clear to me for awhile. I've been crying much more than normally and had two panic attacks last month. I stress way too much about things I can't control, but I think the major factor is that I put too much pressure on myself to be perfect all the time, which is obviously impossible. If I understood myself and my limits I would be able to get through scratch free. But lately I've come to realize the power one person's opinion can have on your well-being. Two people I love are telling me two different things about who I am and how I present myself to them. It's sad that I have to rely on other people to understand myself, but that's why there's people who are paid to do so. Anyways, I'm feeling much like the awful person that I've been told to be right now. I wish I could see who I am and understand why my actions might hurt, but I'm not sure where to start. Well, I'll guess I'll begin by reflecting on my life before boys and broken hearts.

For the longest time I was never comfortable with the girl in the mirror or the girl in pictures, many teenage girls/boys likely go through the same thing. Luckily I am blessed with amazing friends who are unique and fun. Unknowingly they helped me through rough times by simply being there and in that way managed to shape me into who I am today. Because of their presence and influence, soon I began to view the good intentioned (sometimes major fuck-up) yet stubborn vegetarian looking back at me in the mirror as a good thing. The girl behind the glasses was changing for the better (in my opinion). I started working out, eventually I became confident enough to wear nicer/tighter clothes (that I never wore because I was ashamed) thus attracting compliments from family and friends. I lost weight, but I also lost the bulk of clothes designed for people to hide in. I began to push myself hard in school because for one I love learning and two I thrive off receiving praise for my hard work. - I was finally getting the much needed ego boost that I had denied myself for the longest time, which had left me miserable and lonely. I am so lucky to have such a great family, environment and group of friends to support me and make me feel loved.

Now let's get to the boys and broken hearts part. Don't get me wrong, I did attract the attention of boys before my boyfriend, but I never understood why they would want to date me. I know eh? Pity party for me! But, seriously, it never occurred to me that they might find me pretty or that maybe I had a personally that appealed to them or something. I'd turn them down thinking I was doing THEM a favor. Jesus. My "oh pity me" ways not only hurt myself, but also those boys that probably genuinely liked me as a person. In the words of my father: "you're a heart breaker, that's not a good thing." When I would turn them down, I saw myself getting more and more miserable, burying myself in giant sweaters from value and hating people for some retarded reason. My actions made me hate myself and I was spiraling into some metaphysical pit of permanent isolation. Then the craziest thing happened, one boy managed to get through my defenses. For some crazy reason he found the giant sweater wearing awkward girl to his liking. At this point I was already beginning to change myself (working out, becoming more friendly, etc.).

So now back to these conflicting attitudes. This brave boy, who saw me at my weakest point, doesn't like the person I've become. Lately I've been celebrating my confidence by wearing girly clothes, by painting my nails neon pink and loving the way my bikini looks on me. Some might call me fake or something, hypocritical etc etc. But I'm finally doing what makes me happy and sadly I haven't been happy for a long time. Too bad that it doesn't make the people who count happy. Well, I don't think my personality has changed much, I'm still a goof ball, jokester, obnoxious, sifi nerd, non-gossip, loner and often shy girl. I am proud to say that I'm not afraid to speak my mind anymore. My teachers helped a lot in that department, but also the eye surgery that I received helped with my fear of eye contact. I never really mentioned that. But that also made me avoid boys because who would want to date the crazy-cock-eyed girl who was afraid to take off her glasses. All in all, I had believed these changes were for the better but, I think I'm as vulnerable now as when I started. I hear that I'm a good person from my mom, as to be expected. But on the other hand I'm told I'm a bitch and a slut, with no one in mind except herself. I take it all to heart even if they are jokes because I'm stupid and weak and I'm left with old miserable self once more and I not sure what to think about the confident girl in the mirror anymore. I think I'll miss her when she's gone, even if she wasn't a great person. I know that I never intend to do awful things, I believe that I have good intentions. But did I have to pay a price to get to this point? I think I have, for I feel so unloved right now despite being surrounded by my family.

I'm going to Kingston in September. I'll hopefully be making new friends and will be beginning to stand on my own. My worst fear is that I'll lose the girl in the mirror. I think I like her - despite some negative reviews.

I've grown so much since I first started this blog. I'm proud of who I have become. The scary thing is, I'm not sure how long I can keep telling myself that if I don't really believe it.

American Psycho

I've been reading American Psycho. The book is much more detailed and perverse than the movie. Reading it, I thought about writing my own horror story. I started thinking about the character, whither it would be a woman or a man, stupid or Hannibal-like, what would his motivation be... etc. In my head I saw him as a man who only killed the people who loved him most. As to why he killed the ones who loved him, he didn't what to let them down, he didn't what that responsibility of loving someone back, of holding one piece of the puzzle while they held the other. So he let everything collapse right away before he had love and he could feel loss. Mostly he's scared. In his mind, he is saving his victims from a much worse pain. It makes me a little worried that I have created his twisted mind from my own. I wish I could play the piano... I wish I could do something more productive with my time like learning an instrument or improving my knowledge of the world by traveling the world or even going outside. But, it's much easier to write about things than experience them yourself. Horror for instance. I could go out and kill some people... (I'm not going to.) But, it's much easier and healthier to write about it... or read about. The reason why I'm talking about killing people is because watching horror movies or reading horror novels makes my mom angry, not scared or sick to her stomach, angry. She gets angry because she can't understand why anyone would want to watch or read about murder. To quote my favorite author and song writer Matthew Good, "The telling of such occurrences, though anyways touched by a bit of danger and mystery, never quite lives up to the true depravity of such actions. And therein lies the sickness that we embody as a species. Horrified by the fact and entirely mesmerized by fact sold as fiction." - From Porno Safari. The reason I think that people are so intrigued by horror is that it is so removed from their normal lives that the mystery of a man going through the night and murdering people to fulfill some sick need in his heart is enjoyable. It's as if they like to be close to something so awful that the good things in life seem greater... like being alive. I wonder what our lives would be like if everything was good and nothing was psychotic about anyone. Well, in order for that to happen our brains would have to be removed. See, the brain is just a pot filled with soil and our thoughts, good or bad, are either nurtured or removed like weeds, voluntary or involuntary. All my thoughts are vines, not exactly beautiful flowers. They crawl through my body and escape through my mouth, my hands. At one time my skull was too crowded with bad thoughts and the only way I could relieve the pressure was to write. I think I've reached a healthy balance. The headache is gone and the horrific thoughts have become characters, settings and morals, not actions. But that doesn't make me any less of an "American Psycho".

Driving No Where Any Time Soon

So, I had an eye doctors appointment on Tuesday. I found out that I can't drive... I might need a CATs scan done on my brain because my eyes have not improved since I was five. Then after I get that done I need to get laser eye surgery again. And maybe after all of this some divine miracle will happen and my eyes will stop being so screwy. I think I have a brain tumor... lmao I've thought that it was a problem since I read a book which was talking about some guy who had double vision and migraines = brain tumors. Sort of scared me a little. It sucks completely.

Try This On For Size

The pigheadedness of people is astounding. It's curious how the fangs appear, as if from thin air, once the person is backed into a corner. The corner closes in and the only way out is through the person blocking you in. Either you can go through them, blast them down or wait until the waves of insults/arguments are passed. Just try to ignore their smug sense of satisfaction as you gather your bloodied parts, wipe their spit from your face and slink by them. The other ways involve confidence, a suicide wish and a few more brain cells. See, if you spend all your life getting beaten up by the "facts", you lose brain cells needed to find the facts. That is their point. To stop you from finding your own way and your own facts. I'm giving up on convincing others to believe what I believe. There is no point, because I could be wrong and I'm only preventing them from finding their own way, plus I've been beaten up by the "facts" way too many times. Just like raising children to be a certain religion or even vegetarian. You have to wait until they can see the facts that you feed them. You tell them the story and let them choose, they'll thank you for it later and they'll understand why they are the way they are. They'll see that they are the product of their own choice and belief. Ex. I've been baptised. It means nothing to me, because I found my own way. I sometime start to wonder what would have happened if my mother took me too church every Sunday. I'd probably not hangout with the people I do, I wouldn't swear, I wouldn't be a vegetarian, I would be scared of gay people, I would read the bible-- not Cosmopolitan, I would be a happy person, I would confess to some "bad things I do", I wouldn't think about suicide (don't worry, haven't in a year since I began writing), I wouldn't have ended up in the hospital, I wouldn't have gone to Centennial and learned about sex and evolution, I would have joined a production course to realize that all the swears have been blacked out (that fucking sucks ass), my blog would be more boring and everything will be very opposite. That scares me to death. It's not those facts, it's the possibility that my mom determined my whole future with that one decision. Power is not always as obvious as a blazing gun. If the whole world was full of god-loving, animal murdering crazies then there would be no nature-loving, plant eating crazies to balance out the whole equation. It's simple science. It's that my mom made the decision to deal with a animal loving crazy when she let me choose. I grew up and I will continue to grow up until I find my way. I'm getting old enough to see the infinite things that could make or break me. I've got a lifetime to figure out if this crazy is right for me, there is always another crazy waiting to be tried on.