Fun Facts and File Cabinets

The only thing I've really retained from my bio class have been the fun facts. It's actually pretty annoying how often I reference them in daily conversation. That being said, today we talked about invasive species and I think my mind blew up when I learned that fire ants were brought to the United States when someone (for god knows what reason) brought a bucket of fire ants to Miami. Rightfully so, this bucket of fire ants was supposed to be handled with care (shout out to the Traveling Wilburys). However, such is life, the bucket of fire ants was knocked over and fire ants were let loose on the Miami tarmac. Obviously no one was jumping at the chance to catch fire ants, so that explains why fire ants run rampant all over the Southern United States from California to Florida. So we can all thank that Brazilian dude for fire ants. Hats off to you, sir!

I don't think I'll forget the time I was standing barefoot in a fire ant hill at Burger King when I was probably 4-5. Ouch. Feet. Or the time when I found a cockroach in my shoe. Cockroaches are the worst. I know it doesn't need to be said, but they are just so awful. I don't know how my parents survived in their cockroach-infested apartment in Cambridge. Oh my god. Yuck.

Similarly, the time I thought I had flung pasta in my hair, but it was really a cockroach that landed on my head. Oh boy. This is one reason why I need a little break from Texas.

I always imagine memories to be filed in coffee-stained folders in teeny tiny file cabinets in my brain. I think right now I've opened up the file cabinet for "Pet and Critter" memories.

Today I learned that my cat died a few days ago. She was a such a sweetheart. I know I would feel much sadder if I was there for it, so in a way I am glad I wasn't home. I did get to say goodbye to her the day before I left to go back to school. She was just the sweetest and cutest cat. I guess I forgot that everything living has to die. It really sucks. Oh no oh no oh no I DO NOT want to open up the death and mortality cabinet right now. Sorry I am staying on track. Julia Julia Julia. Anyways, the night before I left I stayed up the whole night just petting her and crying and just being with her. She has always just been an angel. Actually that is a lie...I have always just loved her and wanted her to love me too. I have so many memories of being scratched and bitten by her for trying to pick her up or pet her. I remember all the scratches I had on my arms when I was five from trying to brush her. It wasn't until the last like five-ish years that she became a lap cat. Better late than never! Anyways, the last night I saw her she had three seizures throughout the night and it was just horrible. Yeah, it was horrible to have to see it, but more importantly, I felt so bad for her. It was so freaking sad. I forgot how attached I get to things/people/pets (?). I don't know how I'm going to deal with things like death and dying and sickness. It hurts my heart too much. But I have to say that I one hundred percent believe that no one should have to suffer alone. I know it's silly, but when I was with Julia I kept telling myself I couldn't sleep because then she wouldn't have anyone there with her. And...every time I stopped stroking her fur she would reach out her paw to me. It was heartbreaking and...I don't want to cry right now. Okay, I'll stop. She was a great little kitty.

Now sure what direction this post took. How about I end with another random fact about evolution! Okay. The Amish (due to their relative isolation within society) have a higher rate of polydactyly (i.e. having more than 5 fingers and/or toes).

Well what do we have here!

Who knew that I'd be posting again literally hours later! I'm just feeling really weird right now. I've mostly been cooped up in my apartment working on my finals so my head is just in a strange place. I just left to walk around outside a little and I just started to feel like I was floating, now I'm just really triggered and obviously I'm thinking that I am just going to lose it any second now. I'm lying on my bed and listening to music that doesn't make me think of anything other than slightly happy thoughts. So, right now that's MGMT's Congratulations. No idea why I chose that, but I've always liked it. It makes me think of freshman year before everything got crazy. Right now I'm remembering when me and Cody went to their concert together. I was just so carefree. I know that's dramatic but right now that's just the kind of mood I'm in. I miss that a lot. Okay, now I've moved on to Ingrid Michaelson because why not? I'm just overwhelmed by everything I have to do. What else is knew. It's not like the things I have to do are actual "problems," per se, but I make everything into a much bigger deal than it actually is. My throat hurts, too. That's probably because I didn't sleep last night. So obviously that's making me feel really weird. I overuse a lot of words. I wish I could expand my vocabulary but I think I'm stunted and will never be able to be more complex.

Now I feel like I am writing a diary. Apparently women overuse the word "feel," and I believe it. Should I replace "feel" with "think"? But that's a different word. And anyways, what's so bad about "feeling" a lot of things that shouldn't be "felt." People love to make everyone overthink everything. No that's not true. I think we (i.e. me and whoever else because I can't generalize for the entire human population) naturally overthink everything on a daily basis because we (me...) take ourselves far too seriously.

Wait.

That is what I want to do. I want to take myself less seriously. That's a good goal. I don't know how I achieve it but I like the idea of just being happy with and within myself.

Oh my god. I just remembered why I feel especially strange (gah). Last night I watched "The Suicide Tourist" documentary about, well, suicide tourism. It followed around an American ex-pat in England who had been diagnosed with ALS for a couple of months and had decided to seek-out physician-assisted suicide in Switzerland. It was really interesting, sad, and uncomfortable. It's not like I judged him for wanting to die with "dignity" (oh, euphemisms!), but I felt really sad about the fact that he was agnostic. How can you just live in the world and be apathetic about life and the after-life (whatever that ends up being). It makes me so sad to hear that people don't believe in anything. This guy wrote a letter to his children explaining to them his choice to go to Switzerland for PAS and he flat-out told them that he didn't believe that anything existed beyond the here and now. How can you live in this world and believe that? Yes. Bad things happen and life sucks a lot of the time but look around at the world and the people you find. Ah I could cry. Was this documentary life-affirming? I don't really know. It was just interesting. Sorry I just went off on a tangent. It makes me appreciated the life I have been given. I don't know what I want to do with it, but I really don't want to (obviously) take it for granted. Right now I don't think I regret anything I've done (maybeeee). Honestly, I think all the choices (good and bad) and the people I have met and had relationships with have helped me understand more about myself and what I want in life. Sometimes it's so freaking hard to realize any of that. I don't fully believe it most of the time. But I know that I have to. I can't just live with my head stuck in the past, in the clouds, in the sand, whatever metaphor (is that the right word?) you would like to use! Is it bad that I think about other people's choices and their lives? Should I forget them? Should I remember them? Is it bad that I worry about other people who I shouldn't even care about? Probably. And I don't mean that in a "I'm such a saint"-kind of way but that's just the honest truth. Actually it's probably more spiteful than thoughtful. Hah. I don't know. SO many "I don't knows." All I want to do is lay outside in dark and listen to Portugal The Man. Random. But they're so good right now. They make me just not think about anything. I don't even know why because I don't really listen to their lyrics (for some reason...) but they just have a nice sound that I can just forget myself in. Sorry that's emo and annoying. Not sure why I'm apologizing to myself. This was weird.

I need to remind myself to not watch documentaries after midnight. I'll learn one day.

Someone Make Me Do My Work

I think it is safe to say that every time I read this blog I will never cease to frighten myself. I honestly don't even know why I still have it. It's like every post is only trying to out-stupid the previous one. That is not to say that this one will be any less stupid because clearly I've proven that I am incapable of writing anything that won't cause me to cringe in about 15 minutes after posting it.

I think I write in this blog every time I have to avoid thinking about something. Right now, I am avoiding writing my two finals that are both due tomorrow. I feel so mentally checked-out right now that there is no way I can write about Transnational Hispaniola and African Literature. Actually, I don't think I can write about those topics mainly due to the fact that I have read basically none of the books. It's not like I don't like them, it's more the fact that my brain doesn't like to concentrate. Clearly I need to groooow up already. Most of the time these days I am too busy planning out a future that is probably never going to happen. It's weird because I always say I am not a planner and that I'd rather just go with the flow, but I do like to daydream. Like constantly. Wait. I feel like I misuse that word. I don't know if daydreams are just you imagining things that you wish would happen or if they are just letting your mind wander. Regardless, I do like to imagine what I want my world to be.

I don't know if this is supposed to be my personal journal or not. But I'm going with "not" because I am actually using capitals and punctuation and not courier new font (like the emo freak I am most days). That being the case, I guess I can still write about my dreams for the moment. All I want is to live away from home. And it's not to be stupid and to manifest my own destiny or anything like that, but I honestly think I need to be more independent. God so many clarifications. But who am I clarifying myself to? I know what I mean. I've done the whole "live at home and find yourself" sort of thing before and I will never forget how suffocating that can be (sorry I sound whiny). It's not that I don't love my family, because I do. I love being home and forgetting life outside of what I've always known. Oh shoot. I'm getting kind of sad and nostalgic. But that's a good thing, right? I mean being able to feel sad. I feel like I'm about to go on a tangent about feelings. Yeah I want to. Hold that thought.

Yeah feelings.

In case anyone is wondering, I think I have deleted about 50 sentences trying to figure out the right words to say. Talk about censorship! Maybe I'll write something in a few more years about what I think about them. My eyes hurt...when did I take my contacts out last? I don't even know.

Hey hey this thing exists!

I completely forgot that I even have this blog. It's been quite a while. Just re-read my old posts. All I'm going to say is...wow. That girl was strange one. Just kidding. It's weird that I can remember exactly what was going on in the moment that I was writing those posts. Nothing really does change. Although some of my typos were a bit appalling. I hope my spelling and sentence structures have improved a bit more since freshman year.

Anywho. I don't know if I feel older, but I certainly feel less sure of myself. I think that's what getting older really means. When we start school we feel as if the whole world is opened up to us. There's a greater sense of freedom that you get from being away from home and surrounded by hordes of youngins just like you! Naturally, you can't help but turn into an emo, narcissitic college-kid. 

I don't really have a game-plan for this post. But I'll just lay down what's been going on with me this past day. Which really hasn't been anything that exciting. I've been feeling like a blob so naturally I haven't done anything. I maybe watched a documentary on Ketamine. Perhaps I researched shrooms and LSD and other hellucenogenics. I can't spell that word and I'm over it. I'm just implementing my knowledge of phonics. I knew it would come in handy one day! Anyways, later I found myself looking up schizophrenic art and all that jazz. It's so interesting and terrifying. 

I don't know why I'm sort of attracted to that idea of shamanistic art,  but I know myself and I know that I would have a horrendous time living that lifestyle. I mean I hate the feeling of being so hyperaware of my mind, yet not having any control of my world. If that makes sense. Goddamn a bad high. That really ruined my mind. But it was honestly the most terrifying experience of my life. Everything was slow and time was just not real. And in some impending doom and BAM. you've got a recipe for disaster. 

I was pretty convinced at one point that I was in a hospital bed in a coma while my mind waged a war inside of me. I thought the world was on an endless loop, just going through the motions just to fuck with my brain a little more. Time was going backwards. And just stopping for no reason. It was like someone set up the world in a normal sort of way, but I wasn't really part of it. I could grasp little bits of reality but then it would all spin away. And I'd plummet back into my new reality. It was like in that moment I saw how delicate reality is. 

We can slip into madness and surreality so easily it's frightening. I wish it didn't scare me. Maybe I should work on that. 

In With The Young

Well actually it's all about me.

Just a strange observation but i'm realizing that i'm slowly becoming a perfectionist. I won't elaborate further. I'm really hoping that this lasts through the beginning of the school year, really would be helpful.

"There's nothing good because nothing lasts, and all that comes it comes here to pass. I would voice my pain but the change wouldn't last, all that comes it comes here to pass."

Talk about words to live by.

Bruce Springsteen on the other hand is most definitely a person to live by, next to, in the same neighborhood as, family tree whatever.

Summer Lovin'

Well, it's summer and you know what that means.

It's the time of the year when all brain function goes out the window and all I really remember how to do is lay in the sun and let the last remnants of my brain melt away.

God I wish I had something good to write about. Hm. Is this a diary? I have no idea.

Or am I supposed to write thoughts and idea.

Brain Brain Brain

Something about the summer that gets my brain thinking about mysterious medical ailments that I may or may not have. Ask my mom and she says I don't got them. Ask me and I'm all question marks.

This is the time of year when my brother gets all concerned for my well-being.

Constant bombardment of "Did you eat?" and "Be nice to yourself."

I could die.

Yet I choose life. (embarrassing...)

He should thank me one day.

This is seriously messed up. What am I writing I have no idea.

Just playing around with some paragraph lengths. Lengths. Furlongs. What are these words.

It's crazy how we can understand things written on a page. That is something I can never understand. How do these words flow so naturally from my brain to whatever medium of communication I am using. Well, not just me, but everyone. everyone everyone everyone.

How do we understand.

Some days I am completely blown away by this idea and I wonder if I'll ever forget how to understand and speak. Then you start focusing and everything becomes blurry.

Heart racing.

Ugh. Anxiety.

In my opinion there is nothing worse.

Never feel too anxious during the school year, when there's so much to think about. Never focusing on yourself.

But the summer time.

Don't get me started. Hate the feeling of fear. Fear of being afraid. Feeling afraid.

Fear of yourself. Afraid of yourself, is more accurate I suppose.

Because I'd like to think that fear, in an of itself, is not a selfish emotion (is fear an emotion?)

I'd love to stop writing about myself about now. Thanks.

Something funny would be nice. Now.

Sometimes The Truth Is Perfect

What is the truth?

Everything.

You, me, everything.

We expect the truth to always denote something hidden that at times can be bad, a flaw, a lie, a deception. Something that’s hard to handle, in the sense that you don’t want to hear it because you know it’s true and you don’t want to accept it or realize that other people realize it too.

We always want to be perfect and we feel like the truth is the only thing that makes us imperfect. Which is ironic, because there is nothing more perfect than hearing the truth and knowing that people see exactly who you are. That’s all we should strive for, for people to see the truth in everyone. To see who everyone is. It’s hard to admit that each one of us is “perfect.” But it’s true.

I really don’t like to say that I am perfect, because that’s impossible for me to do. I don’t want people to see the truth in me, because I see the truth as an imperfection. A roadblock to acceptance, which is stupid. Because how can anyone truly ever accept me if they aren’t even accepting the true me. The truth is only hard to handle in the sense that it strips you of your masks. And you see yourself as you are. And as you are is just as you should be.

How can I even be fit to write about this because I am just what I shouldn’t be. I don’t want people to see me as much as I would like to think.

That scares me.

To realize that everything you don’t like.

Everything you are trying to hide.

Everything you are trying to disguise.

Is in fact

perfection.

I LOVE THIS THOUGHT. ABSOLUTELY HORRIFYINGLY FASCINATING. WHAT A GREAT COMBINATION RIVALING ONLY HUMMUS AND ANY TYPE OF BEAN. AHHHHHH THE MIND THE MIND THE MIND I AM IN LOVE WITH EVERYTHING.