Problematic

I am sitting in a quiet outside section of a coffee-bar by my apartment. It's called Buzzmill and the the aesthetic is very Frontiersman. There's rusted metal hanging from old wooden fencing. Unfinished tables that look like the legs could give you a splinter if you brushed them the wrong way. I wonder if the space is meant to feel masculine or just unassuming. Unpretentious. They make their own infused alcohols, some of which are amazing in iced coffee. I got myself an iced coffee with vanilla almond whiskey to start with. It was the smoothest drink I've had in a while. Now I have a mimosa by my side. There are less frills to it than the one drunk by the guy that inspired me to get one. His had fruit bits floating in it. I think I'll just buy a bottle of cheap champagne on my way home and get some fresh fruit for myself. I needed to stop at the store anyway. I need toilet paper. I came here to read and study with my cutest and sweetest friend. We discussed our disa...

Sunday- October 9th: Eventually all the lights will go out. Living alone has just made me aware of how many small things I managed to live without just because I had someone else. Both physical things and bits of knowledge. I will eventually need a step ladder. I like to think I am tall for a girl but I am not that tall. Not tall enough to be useful. Just tall enough to make me uncomfortable wearing heels around shorter guys. By my calculations I am able to read three quarters of a page in a minute. Although, that is really meaningless because what is a page? How many words are on a page on average? I could very well be reading those hard glossy books that they give to very small children. Each with but three to five words on their inflexible pages. I feel as though that's what I should be reading. I feel as though that's the best I can do to understand the world. Spot runs. I can see it. This is a truth that need not be further parsed. Instead I read YA novels and Desca...

Does anyone remember that show? Ryan Murphy has done better but it wasn't the worst. Although, it could be a little offensive. I am quite tired but I have a ton of work to do today. I should also shower. Saturday should be reserved for studying. Sunday an old friend will be visiting. I need to clean my apartment. I had been doing quite well at looking like a human being and I want to show that off. He's only ever seen me living in squalor. His acceptance of that natural state of being is what has kept our friendship alive. We met in middle school and he is now one of two good friends that I have known that long. Even so, we'll never be as close because I live in a completely different city. He's also an actual adult. With plans for investment properties and the capital to make those investments. i have no capital. I feel tingling around body pretty often. I wonder if this is something I should be concerned by. I have taken my medication for two days in a row. I wa...

Before: I haven't done my math homework but I had pie today because it is Pi day. I know you know what it is, but in case you don't want to have to Google it again it's 3.14 which means you have pie as a chubby little math nerd. After: I had intended to write this post quite some time ago because I was excited to see I was approaching my 1000th view! So- I guess this "influencer" thing is coming along... That has passed though, and much like the old bit about the guy watching his odometer I was oblivious to the occasion. I did do my homework. Two biology labs in three hours. But I had a bit of a nervous breakdown first. I think I mentioned, or maybe I meant to, that during spring break I was going to go back to my PCP to discuss being on my medications. I naively took a few strands of hair to try to back my way out of having a mental disorder and place myself firmly, securely, in with people who have more tangible issues. Things people can see and so t...

Spring break is officially in full swing because I am incredibly hungover. I should not pour my own drinks. Before making my way to Houston last night I did something I have not done since the beginning of this blog; partially out of fear, partially out of laziness. I finally read a few of my posts and, beyond the fact that they were slightly more coherent than I expected, I realized I had unintentionally been capturing a glimpse at my increasing depression. I had assumed I was getting better: writing is supposed to be cathartic, after all. I guess that is an interesting, if not over-done, twist. It's becoming common for the protagonist to realize, shortly after the audience, that they have a bigger problem than they were willing to admit. I suppose, once again, I am following the trend. This brings me to a few soap-boxes. Aside from coming to terms with my current state of mind, I have also taken stock of my niche in the running narratives of life. Everyone has a s...

I have no idea what I want out of life. I mostly want it to stop. I don't know that any of my goals are truly achievable. I have been off my new medication for two days but I find it incredibly hard to believe that is why I feel this way. I probably don't need to be on the medication at all. One of the fun things about working in a doctor's office is that at some point you may have a conversation with someone about how they feel like killing themselves. You may be so taken aback when confronted with someone else's possibly fatal sadness that you put them on hold to find someone better equipped to deal with this, and then people will tell you A. don't put someone who claims to be suicidal on hold and B. what questions to ask a suicidal person. And then you will have to stifle your incredulous giggles because you don't want anyone to know you are secretly evil and attention seeking. Here's the short list of what you ask: Are you alone? How are you pl...

Another post that has nothing to do with the title. I would like to watch the Oscars, to an extent. Just to see if Chris Rock ends up handing all the awards to black people who were not nominated, but equally deserving, as a surprise, but completely sanctioned twist. IT WILL NEVER BE YOUR YEAR LEONARDO DICAPRIO. So, status update: I am not doing that great in school. I am doing better than I was at the start of the semester- but math is hard. Fractions, specifically, are kind of a bitch to deal with when you add variables and imaginary numbers. I can't believe mathematicians are not considered wizards because this stuff is illogical nonsense that controls everything! Even so, I have recently joined an honors society and began volunteering this weekend. I blame my new medication for all of this. I am now on medication that I have been taking on a spotty basis- in fact I have been off of it for a few days, and I am tired, and pulled out my hair a bit more today, but I refuse ...

It's finally the weekend!! Alas, my exhaustion never rests. Every day is some form of work. Chores are a terrible mire in my existence that I try to avoid but am condemned to wade into eventually. I haven't shaved my legs in about a week and I have no clean leggings to hide my shame in. I am not quite sure what clothes are clean, to be honest. My morning has been filled with resentment toward the artists I know that are not as constantly unkempt and disheveled as I. As I. I try to excuse myself with reminders that I work and go to school full time, but I know there are human beings that manage to maintain their illusion of being responsible adults while juggling these activities. I should start working out as well. I am beginning to feel more myself on the inside than on the outside. It is a small relief to be feeling more myself at all, I suppose. But I need to work out. My only concern is that I have built up so much momentum and any small goal I add could be the thing that...

Writing, I have been told (and am taking a refresher on in Comp II), is influenced by the desire to capture universal experiences. I spend a lot of time wishing I had the data on how many people are feeling the same thing I am. There is a great distance between myself and my past. Self-imposed seclusion from the majority of people I have history with. The common idea would be that it has formed a sort of scar on my psyche- I carry it with me, deeply ingrained in who I am, though I try to pretend it doesn't exist. Sometimes I look at it and it hurts. Sometimes I see the people who were there when it formed and it hurts. I wonder if they have scars in the same place. ------------------------------------------------ I have been working on this post for three weeks. It's been easier to think of other things to comment on, but I wanted to describe Houston a little bit from my point of view. I just wanted to be descriptive; I think I make a lot of opinion statements. ----------...

I have come to an interesting revelation. In English class we discussed "The Star" by Arthur C. Clarke, which is essentially a story regarding our relation to God. When I initially read the story I thought that the ending indicated some bizarre crossing of time and space in which the star that the company traveled to had been our Sun. I was terribly disappointed to find this was not the case. I don't know which is the better twist- just being the star of Bethlehem or the star of Bethlehem having been the destruction of some future selves. Perhaps my initial misunderstanding is too conventional at this point. I guess I wouldn't really care about some random civilization dying- nor really our own civilization dying. I assume people are as selfish as I am and would not be moved by this loss either. If we were capable of that scope of empathy I think it would be easier to get people to resolve problems on Earth. Not that there aren't people trying, but it's hard t...

To continue the theme of Sufjan Stevens lyrics as titles. I have reconsidered the title of the sitcom and how it will run- but perhaps not to anyone's advantage. The new title I think will be "Derailed" Is that too close to Trainwrecked? I was thinking things over last night and realized there have probably been plenty of moments I would take back. One relationship in particular I would nullify for how completely it threw me off of my path. My life is basically Hindsight except there's far less white affluence involved. And attractive British people. I also hate the 90s. I am currently sitting in a McDonalds waiting for my car to be serviced. My hands still smell like goat cheese from the quiche I made yesterday. I have washed them several times. The smell of the McDonalds is a hard one to put into words without coming off as bourgeois. And possibly racist. It's inside of a Walmart and is primarily occupied by Hispanic people, myself included. It's loud i...