give it to me, tom turkey

happy thanksgiving. i can recall the days when i was applying for college and so fucking full of hope. ah. the good ol' days.
also like those days, turkey will not be consumed in my household this year. it's not my thing to eat birds.

breaking

i truly miss the days when i would simply write on and on about irrelevant topics usually reflecting on my day and such. Most time there was absolutely no continuity between whatever I was typing up. God and the ambiguity I tried to keep up. I like to believe that it worked anyway. There was actually a time when no one dared to look at, let alone read, anything that was posted here. Yet here we are.
honestly,there is no reason to keep this blog up. its original purpose has been lost amidst all the mopey shit and semi-sequitur things that have gone on in the last six(!!) years. there is uncertainty as to whether this will continue; certainly those who have glanced at this bit of work have noticed the decline in writings with poignant content. well, in any case, i still want to keep it up to date with a few happenings.
something i've noticed over as the weeks have gone by is the frequency of odd and frightening dreams drempt. i wake up believing they are real and my emotions range from fear to anger. mostly limited to those two. and it's so odd; these dreams only occur the second time i've fallen back asleep. you know like when you wake up really early, maybe three or four, and then fall into slumber again after a minute? that's when the darkest thoughts creep out and manifest themselves in mental visions. at least for me. it is a very scary thing.
in any discernible case, this is a dribble of no nonsense suitable for people to consider. and i'm not feeling particularly great. it's very lonely here. lonely like when you're surrounded by others, but there isn't a connection with anything.i only wish this were longer.

She's in a lonely world

when i woke up this morning, the first thing i thought was, "there are two days i hate more than anything that come once a year: my birthday and new year's day." i think the worst aspect of these two, isolated days is the fact that you hope it will be better; an improvement from yesterday or a year ago, it can only ever be better. in a few cases this happens and you're happy while it lasts and you think, "gee, birthdays/new year's days are grand!". then there are times when the lingering feeling of stagnation or something worse happening creeps in and creep it does. my birthdays have always been in the second category for a long time. the last time i had a slimmer of a good time during my own birthday was probably when i was ten...or that time when i wasn't surprised at my surprise birthday party (a most failed attempt).
In the grand tradition of my birthday, it was the same this year of bits of boring (no singing, however) and disdain. the most exciting aspect of today, and i have been pondering this for the longest time, is the date. it's 10, 11, 12. all the numbers lined up so nicely, that's what makes today so special, a birthday that was meant to be special.

 the day started out pleasant, but by the early afternoon rain had started to fall and soon turned into a thunder and lightening bonanza. i have no qualms with rain, i quite like it, rather, and where i'm at now we need all the rain we can get.

look how lovely and and gloomy and wet it was. perfect weather to match my upset...i mean, languid feeling towards today. 

Here are a few of the things i got (?):

Some cards and a vampire cupcake. This clearly isn't like this. Sorry about that. I liked the vampire cupcake.

Adorable isn't it? Bloody fangs and all.

Having taken a bite out of him, i must say he's tasty. A bit too sweet, though. 
This day could have been so much better (especially with the rain! I have so much to do with someone in the rain...) and I hope next time it will be. Would someone care to make today happy?

For the time being I'm feeling ever so ancient. 

the difficulties

recently, i have been having the worst time trying to fall asleep at night. i would say this started in the summer, probably due to...ehm, the most stressful events ever, and here i am months later, suffering the fallout. urrrgh. two nights ago was the most dreadful as of late; tossing and turning in the dark occurred whilst i hoped closing my eyes would make me nod off. well, that clearly didn't work. it took me hours to find a comfortable position and tired enough to let the day go. the possibility of me having problems, mentally/physically, is great, do you not think?
and there's the trouble that comes when i do sleep: these dreams.
dreams of pure horror and unimaginable ecstasy (re: this and sometimes my other dog, but mostly this) which often collide into a scary, unappealing adventure in my subconscious.
these are things i do not understand. hoping these become more infrequent.

of my Dreams

i always hoped to find the great love of my life in a haphazard fashion, some silly scenario where i trip, fall, and get helped by a mysterious person who asks, "Are you All Right?" and we share a happy life for however long it lasts.
yes, it's silly. No, nothing of that sort has ever happened (crossing my fingers it does). this brings me to the actual subject of this shindig. i apologize for implying i plan to run around in the streets, falling on my face to get anyone to help me (a tall man, exclusively from northern england or scotland). these nights have been filled with odd dreams. i haven't experienced any of this sort in over ten years. and you know david tennant? he was the tenth doctor on doctor who and i think he's quite attractive for an older man and the only reason i knew who he was was because he had just finished a tour of hamlet with patrick stewart whilst i had been in england. anyway, i never watched doctor who, ever, but i did like david tennant before i started and kept this picture to gaze upon.

what i mean to say is a few of my dreams have revolved around me and the doctor. the last two recent doctors (oh! the things the 11th doctor did to me! utterly not at all very horrible). i think it's because of all the doctor who i have watched, aliens and time travel and stuff on the brain make me want to act them out in my dreams.
that's my analysis.
i can't believe he's scottish. and he married his "daughter"!!!

i know i am pure

there are those who believe the world revolves around them. proud, important people; it's perfectly reasonable for self-proclaimed awesome beings. if you're somebunny like me, though, you might think, "hey, why am i so great?"
the world has been revolving before my existence and it would keep revolving without me. why the fuck should it matter.
retrospectives are in order with some of the free time i've had. the one thing i realized was how horribly far away my actual life is from what i planned out when i was five. yes, it's disappointing, but not so much that i feel it's the end of the world. or that i should drastically change everything. seeing it turn out different makes me a tad upset; spending all those years making sure i would finish an academic career at st. john's lutheran school, continue at st. john high school, and get into that champagne college--dreams for fucking naught. how aggravating it was to see the hopes and dreams flutter away and being too young, stubborn, and feeble-minded to conjure up new ideas of a wonderful life in the real west. perhaps it was the result of absolute devastation. yes. that must have been it.

i have prolonged the teenager in me indefinitely. most likely not going to leave that stage anytime soon.

with all the new fangled things that have happened and that haven't i still wouldn't change anything. for the first time a long time since this crazy, angsty perpetuation of my life i'm relatively happy. it's not all the time (god, how miserable the days are), but in the right setting it can be absolutely blissful. the universe could implode explode, be destroyed by aliens raging an intergalactic war and i wouldn't give two shits about it. as long as i'm in the happy state anything could happen and it would be ok.
let's not get into what i'm like when that feeling isn't there. we won't delve into what i feel now. it's not necessary.

hmmm. onto more memorable past relics: i was going through my closet today, cleaning it out mostly, and i came across the tiny valentine's one passes out to classmates in elementary school. a whole fucking slew of them. a folded up piece of notebook paper, ragged edges gracing one side where it had been ripped out, caught my eye. as i started to unfold and open the thing my heart skipped a beat. was this that thing? that one thing that i had been looking for since i've been here? the paper that might've been lost forever???
well,
it was. here it is.

look at that! it was the first number i ever got from a boy i liked! no fourth grade girl could resist something as romantic as this...he's so fit in the drawing, but you know in real life he was a rather scrawny boy with a cute, innocent 10-year-old face. i treasured this thing when i received it, so shocked he'd even give me such a wonderful bit of art and information. somewhere between there and here the paper was misplaced and i've been wondering what had happened to it all these years.
i didn't call him when i got here.
a ten year old girl in a phone call situation with a boy she likes gives more than butterflies in the stomach.
i was/am more timid than most.
i don't plan on calling him now.
why would i be silly and do that after waiting 13 years?

methinks the word is Mum

this is indeed a disturbing universe.
something to worry about, be fearful of, scorn over.