on being tough (more hunger games)

this is continued from the other hunger games post but its shitty writing so i didn’t wanna mess up the other post with it. ¬†its about the song Eyes Open by taylor swift and it basically just sucks ūüėÄ lol read the other one. peace ūüėÄ

*blah blah blah this is the uninteresting part where i while about my life but now i thought of something more interesting to write about so ill probably erase this boring stuff below.*

 
this is how i see life:

its a battle, we are soldiers fighting our own war and every person we meet is an enemy waiting to cut us down. but we fight with smiles, and the right words. “hi how are you doing.” our armor is wearing the right clothes, the make up, the hair. every person you meet theres new rules and tactics to deal with them. more correct words you need to say. “sure. that will be no problem. i really like what you’ve done with your hair. how are you today”

and then if you falter, you fail.

i feel like everyones constantly waiting for me to fail. so they can pounce. i constantly turn into a different “me” for every person i know. “The good girl.” “The party girl.” “The quiet girl.” If at anytime i fail to be what they want, they will eject me from there lives.

“The friends roomates” wait for the one water drip, the one piece of toilet paper, so they can tell me i can’t come by and not have to see me. “The Friend” waits for me to say something wrong, not be perfect so he can find someone new. “the ex friend” waits for me to slip up so he can rage on me and blame the world on me. my parents constantly watching for signs of imperfection. last week i was molested in a parking lot while another guy peed on my car. think i told anyone. no way. because i have to be perfect and ill get yelled at for getting myself in that situation in the first place.
so i gotta be tough. i gotta be perfect. i gotta be happy. i gotta hide everything i feel, every bad day, every thing that happens to me from everyone and just smile. because this is the battle. this is why i say im tough. cause there all waiting for me to fail. theres no room for sleep or rest, i have to always be on the look out.

even in my sleep im afraid ill say the wrong persons name so even then im on guard.

some people are lucky. they have someone they can rest next to. someone who won’t judge them or cast them out for stupid comments or mistakes. someone they don’t have a million secrets from because even the slightest one will send them running away. those people take it for granted because they don’t know what it feels like to never stop pretending, to always try to be what everyone wants.

you may not see the armor that weighs me down but its there. all the time. life is a constant battle to hide the truth, not to let anyone see whats inside so they can’t reject it.

 

 

 

 

Eyes Open – Taylor Swift

 

i am so Katniss. ¬†she was still in the game even when she wasn’t in the arena. thats the whole point of the book right. that the real battle takes place outside. and thats why Peeta was the strong one. because he could charm and smooze and she was just icy cold and struggled to find a personality and to play the¬†social¬†game. Yep. That’d be me. Katniss to the fullest. ¬†I’m tough as nails and¬†definitely¬†a survivor, but i suck bad with people. And yet i watch him sit there and make everyone love him and can’t come close to doing the same.

should i blog about hunger games instead of myself? more interesting. hmm… ill make a separate post just for Hunger Games since it seems not many people “Get it.” they seem to think its like “twilight” because she’s a teenager. Uh, the books are nothing alike. No its not twilight meets truman show like it is in the movie. Its so much more. but I think im running low on computer time so maybe later.

The song talks about the world watching, waiting for you to falter, for there own entertainment. (at least for me, do what you like with it its art its how you relate not concrete).  And I  can really relate with this. Because I see people all day take pleasure in watching people fail. celebrities getting fat, divorced, in rehab. This is entertainment. I see people at work happy to gossip about breakups, and people getting fired, and waiting to swoop in and take their spots. This is no futuristic sci fi. Its a satire on our culture. Both in the movies (aka the arena) or in there private lives (i.e. tabloids etc), the games (entertainment) never ends.

So much more i want to write about these books but it’ll have to be later cause again, im starting to burn out from sugar over load. till then, read the book. its cool if you like¬†social¬†engineering, or books like the Giver, Santa Olivia, or the Host by¬†Stephanie¬†Meyers, I like¬†Utopian¬†societies¬†and books about how altering societies causes people to act. Its a good look at humans in general and how they tend to act as a group.

 

 

 

420 and im not 420ing.

on 420

i don’t smoke pot. if you’ve read this before you’ll know i tried it once, appreciate the benefits, but do not feel that i need a really bad habit that could cost me everything.

on the other hand, if i didn’t work at 5 fucking am tommorow i could really use it. overly stressed and need an escape. plane tickets are expensive. don’t feel like puking tequilla. and i theres no cliff to jump off right now. and there seems to be a current shortage on hot guys with motorcycles tonight.

so yes, right now with all the love and sharing going around, it would be an awesome night to get high. but no, as usual my responsible ass is at home writing blogs instead of releasing my stress through other means. cause i know doing so will prob just mean stress later. spec since i work in like 6 hours.

if ever there was a time where i needed to just not give a shit this would be it. but i do. and im not a stoner. and i don’t need to be cause im tough as hell and can handle.

on self censorship myspace and facebook

also… i’m kinda missing myspace. i used to be able to write shit like this on myspace. how i felt, poems, what i was thinking. i didn’t have to be anonymous because back them people didn’t take all your words and throw them back at you later. myspace friends were your actual friends not your critics. ¬†you don’t ever write anything real on fb. not with all these people you don’t really wanna be friends with on there. you have to edit everything. “what if my coworkers see this. what if my grandaunts see this. what if my ex sees this. oh this might offend these people.” then your stuck in that little “custom” privacy box trying to edit who reads it just incase it may offend people. then your rewriting a one sentence post to make sure it doesn’t offend people and it just irritates me more cause thats not being real. whats the point in expressing yourself online if you have to kiss ass and be fake as much as you do in real life.

the ahole and his toilet

on respect…

i catch this a lot. “what did you say to me?” “don’t take that tone of voice with me.” people can always dish it but they can’t take it. especially men. its like if i say something back there balls shrivell up and they need to assert themselves to get them back.

one thing i absolutely hate is this machismo bull shit. here is an example of the shit i put up with all the time.

“uh. could you do me a favor. could you please learn to flush the toilet because its really gross if i have to go in there after you and theres shit in it.”

no. i do not reply that i did not use the toilet. it wasn’t me. that you’ve analyzed the toilet after i used it that last 47 times checking. that i flush it three times and double check so you’ll stop telling the world i don’t know how to take a dump. i calmly say “ok. no problem.” over and over and over…

“hey, could you wipe up any spot of water in the bathroom. hey could you make sure theres no drops of water on the sink.” can you see why i feel picked on? what would you do.

so tonight i made the mistake of talking back. very unlime myself. and all shit broke loose.

asshole: “did you make sure you flushed!” *laughter*

me: “yes. would you like to check to see if I wiped?” (attempt at humor)

asshole: “what did you say to me! you better not have! not in my house. wipe your ass…” blah blah blah

friend: “that was uncool. don’t be sarcastic with him.”

so im getting tired of having people hold shit over my head. all the time. again my whole life, i avoid being in debt to anyone so they can’t hold shit over my head like this. if i don’t kiss his ass then i cant visit my friend. if i don’t suck up to my uncle then he’ll cut down my roses or trash my car. wtf people. not my fault you are so insecure you always see me as the person to pick on to make yourself feel better.

this guy treats me like a dog with worms wiping my ass across his house. i mean, literally, treats me like shit. if they have a get together with friends with dinner, im the only one who never gets offered any food. if i do eat, its off my friends plate like a dog. never my own. all i do is go to my friends room, nap on the floor, and occasionally when no one is around use the bathroom. i don’t use the fridge, i was the dishes, i don’t set foot in the living room. i just nap on the floor of my friends bedroom and eat handouts and drink water. and they feel they are so generous.

im not greedy. but “asshole” does not pay rent nor give me anything. i wouldn’t be there except for the friend. and im really tired of kissing peoples asses because they want “respect.” respect is earned and doesn’t come with age or a cock.

mush stuff

 

you made me the angel
with the blood soaked wings
and the sick twisted mind filled with
very many scary things

you made me see through a mess of red
as you laughed with your minions and placed pins in my head
the little card with the little label
saying
“she belongs here. she is just a boring insect”
under my name
you hold me in place
and think i wont fight back.

but you chose the wrong little bug to play with.

see my twisted mind
remembers many things
and above them all
that karma brings

thrice fold over
what you give you get
so i’ll be the good one
cause your time hasn’t come yet

you poured your bucket
on my happy face
your cruelty keeps me nailed in place
and i wait
bidding my time
when its your turn.

i long to fly but they trap me here
day after orange clad day
year after spagetti straped and tank topped year
waiting for my wings to dry
waiting to take flight into the night
knowing that i am different
and will always remain
not of this world.

 

 

 

a little bug

with broken wings

and a more shattered mind

filled with scary things.

 

a bucket of blood

after a sharp reply

a harsh said word

followed by glass in the eye

 

them with the pins

trapping me in place

there labels and categories

seeing nothing they can’t replace

 

and one little moth

with her blood soaked wings

still trys to fly

still trys to break free.