Tears of a Beached Whale

It's so strange feeling this way. Not that the feeling is strange. Or why I do. It is more strange because of it's origin. 

I know that people are insensitive in general. I also know that online is not the same as real life. I know that people do not always pay attention. I realize that not everyone has the same moral capacities for being 'nice' that I have. 

It is more in the fact of what had just been said. Followed directly by opinions. I know that everyone is entitled to their opinion. I understand that people like what they like. But do they have to consider what they don't like as wrong? I am what I am, and I can't change it. The things that I should be able to take control of physically do not change regardless. I have killed myself trying. I continue to. I refrain from what I should refrain from, but I am still no less than I am.

I also understand that everyone's frame of reference is different. But when some peoples are voiced so convictedly from their own mouths... I feel like I am less in mine than I should be. I hate that. 

I can only be who I am. I don't want to feel put down due to it.

I am Van, around one hundred and seventy to one hundred and eighty pounds since the end of eighth grade. I am at least a double D.

Raising an Overlord

My original intents were only to keep the child away from his father. But it transformed into something so much more. As time went by; I knew it would be impossible to share his existence with anyone from the court, and so I kept him to myself. (rule #46  Never trust anyone fully.) I named him, I trained him, I created what he is becoming… and it is magnificent. But I digress.

The boys father is a powerful man, radiant with energy the makings of a true villain. He could have made it. He even wrote the book on how it could be done. But his damned pride keeps him from achieving ultimate greatness. He is loved by all; a ladies man, a Man’s man, a beautiful creature of fortitude. But as I must impart to you now; all of his intentions lead to evil. And a corrupted evil of that sort does not make the best ruler. So I keep his child secret. I let the court believe I had miscarried, and I could no longer bear children. My reasoning for this being twofold; one: so that they would believe the child dead, and two: to make it so I would go untouched. (on some levels, I do regret thwarting the touch of a great man. But that was a pleasure I have to deny myself, for the good of our son.)

I see in his son; a greatness that even Xereaux could never accomplish. Not even in his most sadistic dreams. My son is Easton, and he will grow up to be the greatest overlord the world has ever seen.

World of Gray Working Title

So I'm working on another dream I had...

In a world of gray and no major emotions, where children are taught everything in the form of a drab comic style book; there is an interesting phenomena occurring.

...

I’m not sure whose idea it was in the first place, though I’m sure all intentions were pure. But we’ve converted to studying the children. On our quest to further our knowledge we’ve hit a road block, and wish to know what; if anything; a child, uninhibited, un-brainwashed by a society without media will come to think of when they learn, what is their main goal? What do they take from it? Needless to say; the ideals of their parents have a tendency to show through. Things which the child could sparsely know of, but to be told by a parent, for the knowledge of that if far gone, have come out; baseballs and aprons in hues of pink. Our research has truly proved remarkable. The imagination is a wonderful thing, even when it’s controlled.

There are few cases however that are cause for noteworthy concern. Not because they’re unproductive, but rather: because they are. For instance; there is the case of two boys, who for some reason in our world of equal-ness and control, do not get along. They never have. Today during their monitored learning; coming down the belt, the one boy had a snide smirk upon his face. And he looked down at us with an unearned look of superiority (this was puzzling in and of itself). His session in the Bauble took surprisingly less time than the other children’s normally do, and when he came out for his scan, it showed only a picture of a gray earth. The other boy in question, though neutral on his journey down the belt, seemed rather resigned. His time in the Bauble took quite a time longer than his peers. His scan too, was odd. It turned on as black and after a few frames began to static. In the beginning, watching the learners attempt to fix the static, which they’d never encountered before, was highly entertaining. But it was also alarming. In this world; static does not exist. What could this mean? What was this boy leaning? What was in those books? Who was shaping their minds? 

I am Dr. Louisa Parnnasis, Head Children’s Learning Researcher at the Institute of Collective Knowledge. And I am frightened. …

Faceless texting makes me you

I do not understand this phenomena that is 'finding' 'love'. How is one supposed to get to know someone else when either one or both parties have predetermined expectations of what themselves or the other is supposed to be. And of course; then there's the whole new idea of internet dating. Which in and of itself lends itself to being the creation of such falsities. It's all become so faceless. I do not know who I ought to be anymore. I do try with all that I am to be who I am more than anything. But even that is twisted. You are expected to be someone so you give in to the inquiries that require you to be that. But that is not truly who you are to begin with. Most of my 'getting to know you' personality; is based upon gauging the other persons reactions, and being myself. Which includes gestures and other non verbal communication. Because I am not merely words. If I were; I would be drab and boring beyond all reason. and who then; would want to want me. Or I would come across as what I am expected to be, which then I would be only like what else they've encountered, and not myself, which in turn would make for a rude awakening once they actually met me. In other words. I do not want to be expected to be something I am not, and then chided for not truly being that which I was expected to be. That would be pure hypocrisy.

Who is Framed in Happy Ever After?

I think I should forewarn you: this is going to be a bit scattered. 

I'm not sure why, but I've only wanted to watch the same movie over and over agian for the last while. It's not even a movie I particularly care for. In fact; once upon a time, I hated it. But that has not stopped me from watching it 4+ times in the past few weeks. 

Maybe it has something to do with my emotional well being, and it's current state. My ego as well. It has had a few kicks of late, and those kicks have proven very detrimental. Once again I have been placed on a rather high pedestal. I don't know how I manage these things. I do not attempt to get into these things. I cannot even live up to the expectations of this post. I don't like continually falling from that height. There is too much riding on other people expectations of me.

I do not understand how I can be more than what I am. I am what I am, and do not pretend to be more than that. How is it that people come up with these ideas about what my disposition is or will be? 

I need a job. I also require a new company name. RunningMan Industries has proved quite confusing to the 'masses' and therefore now needs to be changed. 

I think I'm still lost for two persons of the same magnitude and neither one is the same in regard in return. I don't even think there's room or way to move on from here anymore. 

That settles it; I've ruined me. Good night all.

Talking to Stargazers

cir·cum·stance - noun

1.a condition, detail, part, or attribute, with respect to time, place, manner,agent, etc., that accompanies, determines, or modifies a fact or event; a modifying or influencing factor: Do not judge his behavior without considering every circumstance.

The circumstances of life define who we are, and what we become. Not definitively. We do need to use circumstances to our benefit. However; if we do not have to opportunity for some circumstances, we have no way to grow from the experiences that they create. If I had been afforded other leisure's in life, the circumstances of my existence would have changed, and therefore would have changed me.

For instance, if i would never had met Rocky, I would not have had some of the life experiences that I have experienced with him. If the circumstances had changed. Say; I wasn't proficient in Microsoft office, so I hadn't tested out of it, I would have been on time to class, and would not have been seated next to him.I would have been early, and knowing me, I would have seated myself somewhere nearer to the center of the room. A neutral position. Or If I had not been walking through the hall in HS that day, like I wasn't supposed to be. I never would have found the postcard to inquire about the school. Suppose I had had friends in HS and hadn't needed to find someplace solitary to be alone during lunch time? I would still possibly not have some of those friends that I made in college. I may have not attended that school. Suppose I'd not had my tooth broken when I was in the 2nd grade, Perhaps my peers would not have made fun of me, and I might have been able to make friends because I wouldn't have looked like a freak. Suppose I'd never moved out of Barstow to Wisconsin. Suppose I'd never fallen out of the car and had to go to the hospital? Suppose that lady at the campground had never bought me a pair of $100 shoes. What if I'd tried harder at some things? What if I'd been more outspoken? What if I'd been a little more confident? What if I hadn't been so insightful? What if I paid attention to the what ifs and continually looked at what I could have done different? Then I wouldn't be who I am. This contemplating the past thing takes on a real snowball effect, and barrels in on itself. It calls for pondering after pondering of what could have been; if only. Which is useless, You can not change the past. You can, however; learn from it. I'm glad I made the decisions I made in life. Some things, in retrospect, I wish didn't have to happen for me to learn, but I don't regret anything. I am grateful for my circumstance. I intend to take each circumstance as a gift and be who I will become.

236 missed times to say what I feel...

Wow 236 posts. I've gone from topic to topic, and from trend to trend. The last... 3 and a half years(?) have been interesting. I went from no readers to the occasional reader, to an avid reader and back to occasional readers. I don't really have a point yet, but maybe I'll come up with one. I started this when I was 21 years old. I am now 24. I have a few of the same friends. Some of them took a break from me, some of them are friendships in new or different capacities now. I've had a lot of new life experiences since I turned 21 too. Like I went to Berlin, I traveled out of this country on my own. I've been homeless, and lived in Orange County. I've driven a Cadillac and had to donate my car to charity because the transmission went kaput. I have learned things about others. And made discoveries about myself. I've graduated from College. And I've found the type of best friend I've always wanted. I recorded a few songs, and performed a concert. I've been management, and jobless. I've waited tables, and a designer, and a retailer, and an entrepreneur. I've had 'love' and I've lost. I've been heart broken, and been resolute. I've made some art, and taken some classes. I've laughed a lot, and cried a few times. I've spent quality time with family, and suffered great loss. I've changed a lot. But somehow, I feel that I'm the same in many ways. I still fall for the same lines from certain people. I still am naive enough to trust people who aren't trustworthy. I've lost some bitterness, but have gained some new cynicisms, so I feel that they even out. I still feel insignificant at times. I also still feel inadequate at my chosen profession. On the other hand lots of things have changed. Like; I want some different things for my life now. I won't get into that now though... mostly because I don't really know if that is what I want... I'm going to stop now. I've completely lost my train of thought.

If you snear at me, I'll sick my fraidy dog on you.

First I can't find the cooking oil, so my dinner is drowned in butter instead. And I was told to fend for myself for dinner, so that is what I was doing, and then; She who told me to fend for myself, brings me home half a sandwich. I already make more than enough every time I cook, and still eat it all. And I can't not eat what was brought to me. So I'm over stuffed. I don't usually eat that much anymore. Not to mention, I had a large bagel sandwich for lunch. With all the fixin's. I'm not complaining. I am grateful for the sandwich. It was tasty. And my food was good too... But bleh... 

I also couldn't find bed risers, or face paint today. Not too big a loss in the grand scheme of things. But frustrating none the less. I had free time to devote to creativity, and I had no ideas that did not include either one of those items. Mostly the face paint. Granted; I have not used it in quite some time, and we've moved since then, not to mention, I've moved a few times since then. But alas, I still wanted it.

I have also figured out the standard size charts. I don't know if everyone knows this, but some time ago; between my mother's childhood, and mine; They changed American sizes. This confused me a lot with pattern making. My materials were printed prior to the change. Hahaha... I was so confused. Thinking "I don't wear a 16... or a 14." Turns out, a 10 now was a 16 then. And a 10 then, is now a 4. Mom! You weren't Fat! You wore a 4!

So, Now that I have a size chart that makes sense to me, I'm going to start on standard sizes. Yay! I've also come up with some prices for that vintage stuff I can sell, I still need to go through it though. I have to decide what I want to keep. If anything. I still feel that I'm unqualified to work in my degree field, but if I can make this business thing fly, I won't have to. Uber exciting. 

I also have to get ready for this party. Which will have more than 2 people! It will Gall-Darn-It! Muahahahahahahaha! 

I digress.

La Primera Untitled

So this is the first poem I've written about/for/because of Soulshoes... funny, it's so short, and not what I would have expected. But these things kinda just come on us suddenly. I've also not been able to title it. There may be more in me to come eventually. I hope it helps with the numbness that lies there. Anywho; Without further adieu:

- -

I'm not sure why the water wells
Behind my eyes it does swell
I see your name and falter some
For all that we cannot become.

30 years of dust sheds light on an idea.

I am pretty sure; I have enough vintage accessories to open up an Etsy shop. One that would then finance a start up RunningMan clothing line. I have so so much costume jewelery, gloves and scarves from Bossie, Aunt Pat, and Aunt Jeanette combined, that I could, if I could bring myself to part with it, sell it as vintage, and make money. I might go through it, and choose my favorite, and those things that I'd actually use, and then sell the rest. That's a good idea if I would ever do it. I also need to decide what I'm going to do about this dress I designed. What sizes should I make? I have enough green material to make several green dresses. After I perfect the pattern I made for my yellow dress, I could then make 'standard' sizes and sell those as RunningMan originals. Ooooh, that sounds good. But which sizes do I make? I have to draw up a  pattern for each. I guess I can go by the sizes from the book, but they're European from back in the day. So I could figure it out comparably to what they would be today. But I still need to decide which sizes to make? 4? 6? 10? 14? The sizes in the book are listed as; 8-22. But it also said I'm from an 8 - 16 depending on the measurement. And even then, the book is from back in the day, so it's a different fit. ... hmmmmm... I dunno, I'll figure it out eventually. Sooner would be better than later so that I can purchase the right size zippers. etc. But I do think I will sell some of my vintage/antique stuff here sooner. I've also been told I should sell some of my art as well, and not just have it all over my room for only me to see... but art is so hard to both part with, and price appropriately. More thinking and decisions to make.

Now I'm alone... left in the darkness, setting within.

This will be the ... millionth Saturday in a row that I've had nothing to do. Ok, I'm exaggerating. But seriously. I do nothing, Ever. I'm not really the sort to invite myself out places, nor am I one to instigate or go alone. I am wary of other people and their plans that they may have already made, and I never assume that people have the time or energy to be spent willy nilly on me. I am not really complaining. I enjoy the alone time. It's just become a humdrum aloneness that leaves me feeling meh. I guess I'm better off being alone. Doing everything alone. There's less to give up that way. And I know what to expect. I don't have to interfere with making plans, and breaking plans if one plan disrupts another plan. I can pick up and go at the drop of a hat, to do whatever is beckoned of me by family or whatever it is that I think I am in need of. Being alone gives way to sounding like I'm very selfish. I don't have to worry about anyone else's schedule. That is until I actually have something to do. Then it's five thousand things at once. And then I can't accommodate all or everyone because I'm out of practice. I think I should have one friend that I do everything with. Oh wait, I had that. But it didn't end well. I'm going to go back to being alone now. Maybe think this out a little bit more, so that it seems a bit more concrete. Merky mehrky meh bleh blah.