Saturday, January 31, 2009

Tragically 17.

Dear Globlets,

As much as I hate to admit it, the truth is: I'm a teenager. Who would have thought, right?
As much as I strive to be different and unlike the stereotypical teen, I find myself acting and thinking and being just as stupid as the rest of us/them. I could be worse, I know. Much worse. I don't think I fall under that stereotype completely... I'd like to believe that I am different. I don't wear those silly boots that everyone wears, or skinny jeans, or straighten/curl my bleach-blond hair... I strive to be untrendy but still look good in my clothes - something not hard to do when trendy=ugly, half the time.
But that's all external. I'm still an idiot, and the weirdest part is that I'm aware of it. (Better to know than to be oblivious to it) For example, I'll be upset about something, even crying about it, and it will be like I'm watching a fist fight. There will be the irrational, emotional side and the rational, logical side fighting it out but the logical side usually gets strapped down to a chair and told to hold the Kleenex box while hormones leak out of my eyes and splatter all over my room like blood/organ splatter from a brain blown out.
Nothing is solved by fighting... it really isn't.
Anyway... my emotional side brings out all my insecurities to the surface. Feeling insecure is so common and normal and I hate it that I feel it. I hate common and normal and I wish I never got sucked into this hormonal, emotional, CRAP.
I have such little faith in myself, it's really not healthy. The media really doesn't help. I don't think I'm good enough for anything and I don't let myself forget it... I literally tell myself that there's little point in doing certain things because I'm not good enough.
We are our own worst critics...
"[Sometimes I even think] I'm special, [that] I'm different, [that] my case is so much worse and more real than anyone else's." - H. Emotional.
Talk about ridiculous.
"I'm not any different. Everyone goes through this at some point, even more than once." - R. Logical.

I broke down the other day. I thought the stupidest things I could think.
Like what?
Like: you're ugly, fat, untalented, stupid, a failure, a flake, etc. (H. Emotional). And then I called myself an idiot for thinking those things (R. Logical).

I want to know what to do with myself. I thought I had it figured out until I realized that the path I was taking was preventing me from doing the things that I love.
What do I love?
Photography, music, writing, and baking.
I had decided to work on school stuff so I could get what I want for photography: some education. But by doing this, I decided to put all my other stuff on the back burner, especially music. It would merely be a hobby, something to do if I had the time. I couldn't work on my schoolwork without longing for piano-playing and I couldn't play the piano without feeling exceedingly guilty for not doing my work. Half of the time I ended up doing neither and that really didn't work out well.
My dilemma persists. I would really love to focus and dedicate my whole self to the arts; specifically, music. But do I really? I start to wonder if I actually have talent, or if I'd be remotely good enough to even think about taking a huge risk like that: giving it up for music. It seems huge but it really might not be.
My favourite line in the movie, Little Miss Sunshine, is, "You do what you love and fuck the rest." I talked to a friend a long while ago about this. He said to go with my gut, with my heart, but I'm such a chicken that I never did. I'm in the same place as I was then, just older. I'm so afraid. I don't want to be afraid. I want to be one of those amazing people who go after and do what they want and become even more amazing and amaze the world with their amazing amazingness! I'm not one of them though. I hold myself back and get so wrapped up in the "What If's" that I go numb. And then I hold it in. And then I explode out of my eyes all over my room, again and again, but... for how many more times?

What exactly do I want? Do I really want it? How do I get it? Should I get it?

The safest thing to do would be to schoolworkify the crap out of myself, get shiny pieces of paper that tell people I'm not illiterate, go to Uni or Colle, get more shiny pieces of paper, and then do what I love, freely. But then... during that whole process... what happens to the things I love? And here we go back to the beginning... unable to schoolworkify without longing for piano-playing and unable to piano-play without feeling exceedingly guilty for not doing any work.

"Fucking it" is the scariest thing. It's supposed to be. It's a risk and risks are scary by default. So it's a little tricky when you're the scaredest of scaredeecats, wanting to do a very scary, risky thing.

Safe and easy is what people want, unrealistically. Dangerous and difficult is how it is, no matter how hard you try to run away from it.

And now for something completely different:

Her name was Ori
She was a real girl
She had really messy hair
And her tits sagged down to there

You heard me.

Caution: major lack of self-esteem.

Song of the Glob: Big Girl (You are beautiful) by Mika.

Dear Globlets,

I wrote the following (awful) post the other day when my self-esteem had hit rock bottom. I don't feel like this every day but I do still feel and think about a lot of what I say in it, all the time. I'll probably write a glob with this, among a few other things, in mind. It should make more sense and be less stupid.
A lot of this probably came out wrong too... :/

This is how I was feeling the other day:

I’ve been dealing with this issue for quite a while now. So many times, recently, have I come close to crying but always managed to assure my tears that letting them out later would be better.

I saw this smoking-hot girl in a movie, playing someone a lot younger than she actually is (as was her co-star), whom you merely have to type “me” in the search box to find her name come up first in the recommended links on Google. It could have easily been a fluke between time, prick and porn, but I began comparing myself to her, then to other “beautiful” people on television and in videos or films. I know how stupid it is to do that. To compare a normal person to a celebrity/model/actress/singer who has enough money to get the plastic surgeries they want, to pay for their personal trainers, to spend hours working out, to pay for all the skin-cleaning products they need, to permanently remove every unwanted hair or mark on their body, to have hair and makeup stylists on-call, to get airbrushed and edited, to make sure the media refrains from exploitation and exhibition of their bad pictures… is stupid. Perhaps it’s hypocritical of me to do and think these things since I readily fight to help my friends understand that they are beautiful, because they are, and I like reminding them of that, but I’m caught in my own self-doubt, nevertheless. It’s not advice that I can seem to take, myself.
I went through the list of all the body parts that I currently own to see how many I could find that I like.
- One.
I like one thing about myself. (Well, technically, there are two of them but they count as one because they’re the same thing-ish.)
Before, when a question like “If you could change your physical appearance in some way, would you?” was raised, my answer was no. I figured I could fix certain imperfections with the aid of time and money, both of which I do not currently possess. Lately, I’ve been thinking that yes, I would change things, and not just a couple of things, but the other 99.99% of things about me that I dislike. Would I ever go through with plastic surgery? I can’t say that I would, no. Maybe one thing, but … maybe not. Now I’m confusing, so I’ll bring up the excuse that never fails me: it’s late and I’m tired. (Emotional as well, but not PMSing. So, suck it!)

I’m really tired of doubting myself.
In the past, I’ve been told that I am beautiful and I do believe those words, but only at the time they are said because later on, I think, and that’s never a good thing. I think things like, “Yeah, but that’s coming from seeing the tip of the iceberg alone; cursed be the day you see more.” or “Try saying that and meaning it, on my worst day, when my hair is a mess, when I could use a shower, in bad lighting, from a horrible angle, stark naked.” - not that I would ever blame anyone for not being able to go through with that. But then, one remembers that you also don’t see celebrities like that.
I guess, since being beautiful is out of the question, in my opinion, all I want is to feel beautiful. Maybe sexy too. But how do you feel sexy and beautiful if you’re convinced that you’re not?
I hate claiming to be the victim… but I do, do it… I don‘t mean to. I don’t want anybody telling me I’m beautiful because I want to hear it. I don’t want anybody telling me I’m beautiful because they want to get something out of it… out of me. I don’t want to hear it out of pity or sympathy. I want to hear it because someone genuinely thinks it.
I am aware of those who think I’m beautiful, and of those who think I’m pretty, and of those who think I’m cute, and of those who think I’m half-decent, and of those who think I’m “bleh.” I might be wrong about it once in a while, but other times it’s quite clear. I wish certain people matched up with different adjectives sometimes, though…

“Me______” is hot, but not beautiful. She is, sometimes, but if she’s only beautiful sometimes, then she’s just that.
There’s inner beauty and there’s outer beauty. I’m blind to any inner beauty I might have, but, selfishly so, I do wish I had more outer beauty. That sounds horrible and it probably reduced my inner beauty score by 30%, but I still feel it.
Maybe one day I will feel good about myself. I did, a little, for a while at some point, but drown me in a tub of ice-cream and get me something fried and coated in chocolate, we haven’t changed or grown an inch since 5’1.
It’s cold in this freezer. Let’s see if I warm up and melt a little. Maybe I’ll open the door, ‘cause you can’t always wait for someone to open it for you.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Death by enchiladas it shall be!

Song of the Glob: "War" by Bob Marley and the Wailers.

Dear Globlets,

Not all my posts will be about religion, in case you were wondering. It's just a thing I've decided to explore publicly. I wrote a non-religion glob the other day but I'm still debating whether or not I should post it...

"Head knowledge of moral standards is easily obtained without religion. The Bible provides compelling reasons to commit to live by them without compromise." was part of a comment on my last post.
Cannot a non-religious person be good and ethical too throughout their lives?
And why is it that there are people who devote themselves, wholly or not, to God and the teachings of the bible, yet many still act in a primitive, sick, amoral way - sexually abusing and harassing women and children and men, killing and persuading people because of religion, and so on. The sixth commandment states 'You shall not murder,' but people seem to ignore this one a lot and use their religion to justify their actions. (Yes, this was part of my comment on the last post.)
Cannot a person be good and ethical throughout their lives... just because? Because it is the right thing to do? The good thing to do? Doesn't living a life rich in goodness beat a life lived in anger and fear?
Am I, in your opinion, a good person? I'd like to think I am.

You may think I'm going about this in the wrong way, with the wrong state of mind. But if it can be proven to me that religion or Christianity is, in fact, good, rather than simply repeating that "God is good," please tell me why and not what.
Yes, amen.
I would rather pray to the whole of civilization, to the entire race of man and woman, to the baffled, blabbering idiots of the world, to this stew of good and bad, right and wrong, and pray that the heat decreases and the boiling bubbles cease... maybe add a pinch of paprika, just because... to treat each other as we would want to be treated ourselves, and to live by that, selflessly. But in the end, the only thing I'm praying to is myself... because I have the power to help turn down the heat. It is my duty, as it is every one's, to contribute to making a better world. Too long and too much do we fight to say what is and what isn't, when our brothers and sisters are bleeding on the streets. I can hope and wish that others will treat people well and be merciful, but that's all I can do.

Christianity is not a selfless religion, it seems to me. [Believe in the G-man, follow the bible and be good, and you will be saved. You will be able to walk through those pearly gates and do whatever it is you're going to do for all eternity!]
Should a believer be old when they die, does that mean they have to walk around old forever? I don't know how heaven works yet... we're getting there.
Why is death so scary? I don't have a problem with the idea of being dead... and by dead, I mean DEAD. Dead = dead to me, not dead = afterlife. I'd take it as my time to "rest;" to no longer be in existence; peace? I guess it gives people a way to better forget the loss of a loved one and/or be less afraid of death and its uncertainty... because you don't know what happens 'til you try it and there are no survivors of death. (excluding people who have had their lives literally saved, of course)

If it can be shown to me that God is good, how he could exist, etc. then maybe I will believe.

"If God is within, I hope he likes enchiladas." - unknown.


Thursday, January 22, 2009

Skimming AOMAP.

Song of the Glob: School by Supertramp

Dear Globlets,

During my exploration of religion, I will most likely say things that you don't agree with, things that might offend you, and so on. All I can say about that is: tough shit. I'm going to be questioning everything I can from a realistic point of view. Again, please feel free to comment on any of my posts to inform me of what I might get wrong, or your interpretation of an aspect of the bible or my post, anything you'd like to share about religion... I want to hear what others have to say, so *enlighten me.*
I might be establishing a battleground here and if that's the case, please try to keep it clean, clear and legible, and read as open-mindedly as possible. I don't want anybody losing friends or anything because of different opinions to do with religion. I'd like it if this discussion remained here, on Gmail or Blogger. (preferably Blogger.) I don't want this to be a negative thing, which is why we're calling it a discussion and not an argument, despite my mentioning of a "battleground."

Thank you.

I guess I'll start a little bit of opinion-posting now.
A quick skim:

First, we're going to start from the beginning. No, not the beginning of the world or of Jesus. (Was there ever a beginning of God? Guess not...)
Kids come first. I don't agree that kids should be subjected to religious beliefs from when they're very little. A child should be given the chance to fully understand a religion before they believe in it. I don't think that kids should be told that there is no god either, though, of course. When a person is mature enough to understand religion, and all religions, after they've asked the questions they need to ask, would then be a good time to make that decision: to believe, or not to believe.
I know that not everyone is indoctrinated from day one, but many are, and I don't think it's fair. You can't tell a person that there is one way and only one way for anything because it's not true. There is always another way. However, people still do tell young people that. They take advantage of their naiveness and make them fear what's outside the box. What kind of love is a love based on fear? Again, this isn't always the case but it still happens - in the name of the lord, in the name of God, in the name of religion.
I don't see how this would be necessary unless it is simply to control the young so they grow up thinking the way the elders want: to never question, to never even want to peak to see what's outside of that box, to never change, grow, or see things differently - to live in fear.

Verse from the song, School by Supertramp:
Don't do this and don't do that | What are they trying to do? | Make a good boy of you | Do they know where it's at? | Don't criticize, | they're old and wise | Do as they tell you to | Don't want the devil to | Come and put out your eyes


Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Blog & baby-eaters?

Song of the Glob: Lost for Words by Pink Floyd [ ]

Dear Globlets,

It has come to my attention that there are strange, misinformed folks who have not taken the time to understand BLOGS before they tell a blogger what they think they should or shouldn't write in their PERSONAL blog.

[ ] - Do it.

I believe that nobody but the author has any right to say what should or should not be incorporated in one's PERSONAL blog. It's their PERSONAL blog. I know if anyone told me what kind of writing I should have in my blog, I would promptly ignore them and continue writing what I want, how I feel, my opinions, my points of view, et cetera, because that is what blogging is to me (and to many, I believe): expressing yourself in any way you want, allowing people to read what you have to say... or maybe not, if that's your choice. Sometimes people just like having a GLOB of themselves out there in cyberspace.

A blog is often a public diary or journal. You wouldn't tell someone what to write in their diary, would you? It would be wrong. You don't tell people how and what to think either. Well, maybe you do... but you shouldn't. - It's not your place.
Too often do people forget to think (in general and) about the values, opinions and feelings of others.
"You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view; until you climb into his skin and walk around in it." - Atticus Finch, To Kill A Mockingbird.

Did you know that there are people who make a living off writing blogs? My mom reads a few and they've got to be damn well-written for her to read because... well... you're going to make me say it, aren't you? (Yeah, YOU are) - My mom has a degree in linguistics and reads so much that, close to, if not over, half of the boxes when we move are full of books, and that's no exaggeration. There are books everywhere, many have crossed continents and back again, and are sometimes double-shelved, on top of the big bookcase, on that ledge by the staircase, and we also have several other bookcases.

Now, should you be one of those strange, misinformed people whom I seem to have misunderestimated, as the former president of the USA would say (I had to add that somewhere here), feel free to tell me your opinion on the matter, or better yet... write a blog about it!

In other news... I'm reading the bible. No, you did read that correctly. I, Ms. Ieatbabies, am reading the bible. I've also decided to make notes about the things that make me angry, that I don't agree with or the things that don't make sense to me. I'll blog about it... and maybe we'll "discuss" it. I will probably write a blog about my current thoughts on Christianity and other religions in the near future... The statements I make may be premature since I have not yet researched or explored all religions... so be gentle, should you feel the need to correct me or set me straight.

(But who wants to be straight when you can be curvy?! =o )


Wednesday, January 14, 2009

Do you see my point?

This makes me angry. It was a book, I think; a Christmas present. Don't they know that NOBODY wants to keep the sticker with the price of the item on? RAWR. Then you mess up your nails (if you have any) and it sucks. So there.

Short, lame post + promises of better posts in the future.


Thursday, January 8, 2009

Screwing the lunch lady?


"glob (noun) A soft thick lump or mass.
Synonyms: ball, chunk, clod, clump, lump
Usage: The lunch lady slapped a greenish hamburger patty and a glob of grey mashed potatoes onto his plate."

Sorry to disappoint you all, but my glob... is actually "GREY mashed potatoes" - Served best on a "greenish hamburger patty." Ouch... >.<

But don't get me wrong, there is still method to my madness, contrary to extremely popular belief. I can explain it. Really, I can. I'm not changing it because of what the Word of the Day says on my iGoogle homepage. If you like, I could explain... I could tell the story of how the term "glob" came to be.

Totally random... and kind of funny... I'll post something a little more interesting later.
But before I go, GUESS WHAT!!!???
It stopped raining! And there's sun. And I'm going to go outside, methinks.