Three Birds with One Stone ;; A Human Moment

Hello, world!

It snowed again. I'm absolutely furious, if you haven't already guessed. .... Though, those of you know know me, yeah. You probably know. And you're probably just as annoyed/bothered/furious. Way to be fantastic like that. <3

In any case, I have the burning urge to rant and ultimately bitch about something. And because I have several topics at my disposal.... LET'S PESTER THE ROOMIE AND GET HER OPINION!! XD

Possible topics: Family, classes, snow/winter, high schoolers, Chanticleer's director and the master class (whish ties to high schoolers), the music lab, human rights, Valentine's Day, you-know-who/love, the house, Twilight (which ties to high schoolers and the master class), Chanticleer, piano, smart people who transfer out of classes and leave you hanging (BRIANTHISMEANSYOU!>|)

Me: HEY! =D Picky two numbers between..... *counts* One and fourteen! :3
Roomie: ..... What?
Me: Pick two numbers between one and fourteen?
Roomie: ..................... Four.
Me: And?
Roomie: ........................... Twelve.
Me: *type, type, type* Fouuuurrrr....and.....twelve. Hmmmmmm...... *counting them out* High schoolers~ aaand..... Chanticleer!
Roomie: ..... *blank stare, obviously thinking something like, ‘what is my wingnut roommate up to now?’
Me: Wanna pick another~~~?
Roomie: ............. Seven.
Me: AND VALENTINE’S DAY! WIN. *does a dance*
Roomie: ................................... *casually ignores, resumes her activities on the laptop*
Me: *eventually decides that ranting/raving about Chanticleer might be better left for a day when it’s been a good day, that she can’t rant over high schoolers without opening the can of worms labelled “Chanticleer’s director” and “Twilight”, and that she should do Valentine’s Day on....of course....Valentine’s Day, and so she chooses topics 1, 3, 8, and whatever else happens to strike her fancy*

So, let it begin.

First, to the issue of the snow.

I have, as you can see below, prepared a haiku to winter/snow that covers my feelings quite nicely. :3 Enjoy.

Snow so blinding white
Obnoxious, cold, and freezing
Go fucking die now.

Great, isn’t it?

This, everyone, is what my college tuition is going to. Crappy haikus about snow. *insert nods here*

.... Okay, actually, my tuition is going towards my learning of state cities to use in litany poems. xD; I have Nebraska. .... Which I should be working on right now. Talk. About. Fail. But I’m really tired.... I’ll probably end up finishing it in the morning simply because I’m so tired right now that I’m probably misspelling things.

.... Crap. My lip is bleeding. From two different places. ... Wait, maybe three. *rolls eyes, facepalms* I need to yank myself from this habit before I tear my lip open, or something. ... Actually, I need a worry stone. .............. My worry stone was at the house. ..................... I need a new worry stone. I should go to the park or the cemetery or something and fine one. Or maybe back behind chapel. .... If it weren’t so snowy.

GAH! And here’s the snow again, ruining my life and plans.

Oh well. I’ll just... I’ll manage. Maybe I’ll make one. .... Or. Maybe I’ll just keep gnawing at my lip.

[/insert rant on how gnawing at my lip is self-destructive behavior and how I’m secretly in need of help and other fun things]

OKAY. THAT BEING DONE.

Onto my next rant. ..... Topic isssss....

Family.

God. Sometimes, I really hate that word. Other times I love it, but right now I’m hating it.

As some people have come to notice, I’ve been attempting to distance myself somewhat from my family, as I kinda need the air to breathe. Otherwise, my family would simply drive me insane, To the point of no return.

I’ve already freaked out my roommate several times by simply stomping out of the room to mash around on a piano over there ( piano with pedals, which my keyboard does not have). I’ve worried both her and several others in my hall as well as the guy I like. I have panic attacks all the time now. I’ve stopped eating breakfast. When I eat lunch or dinner, I usually have ceral or salad (of course, sometimes the food seriosuly just sucks). I go for late walks at night with my camera. I’ve been roleplaying a lot, mainly with the roomie and Rachel (which, by the way, Luce and Kaylee are still hellishly adorable, holyfreakingcrap). I don’t sleep much at night, and when I sleep, it’s never a good sleep. Too light. And... The smoke. I smell it all the time now, an endless reminder of what I saw and what I’ll always remember. I doubt I could sit by a campfire without having another panic attack.

.... Okay, wait. Maybe some of this behavior of mine is somewhat self-destructive. .... It’s not my fault that this is how I deal with things. After being verbally and mentaly abused by the male half of my Rental Units (one of the reasons why I’m actually quite afraid of trusting myself in the company of guys, as I fear they’re like my male Rental Until [hereby known as MRU]) ever since the divorce, I’ve had this thing about letting people see how weak I am. If I’m not strong... Well, I’m screwed. If I’m not strong, I’ve failed myself. And usually I’ve failed other people as wel.

I’m prideful. I admit it. I have pride, and I have a lot of it. I also have an incredibly low self-esteem. Why? Because when you’re called fat by your father enough, and when your mother calls you stupid and worthless enough, you begin to start believing them. I went through a phase back in my early years of high school where I didn’t eat at all during the day. I skipped breakfast because it messed with my meds, lunch (provided by the cafeteria) sucked rocks, and I never had any appetite at dinner, especially if I was at MRU’s.

The first place I found a family outside of my blood relatives was in my high school’s choirs. They were my family. Though it wasn’t often, we talked. Often as a group. If we ever needed someone to talk to individually, our director was there, and my senior year when I was a part of Project X, we all were closer than ever because we shared and we were literally family. We took care of each other.

Other than the choirs, I found “family” in a ragtag group of brats that I still consider very much to be my family. They were my underclassmen and a couple that happened to be in my own age group. But most were all younger than me, ironically. And yet, we were family. We were a close knit group of people that, regardless of our intrests and backgroups, we loved each other, and we took care of our own.

But today’s not that day to get started on Alex. Not today. It still hurts when I think about it too much.

After high school, after leaving behind everything to attend college, I didn’t expect to join another family. But I did. Maybe they recruited me. Maybe I recruited them. Either way, after half of a semester, I found myself closer to a grupf of girls than I’d ever been with practically anyone. After a whole semester and into interterm, I found out who I could really count on. When my house was burning, when my life was shattering around me, I found who my family was. It wasn’t my brother who made my mother cry, it wasn’t my mother who yelled at me for getting revenge, it wasn’t my aunt.

It was the girls of my hallway, the ones that constantly badgered my to-be-roomie for information regarding what was happening. It was those girls that left messages saying they missed me on Facebook. It was those girls who met me the day I came back, hugging me so tight I could barely breathe.

Main Floor East Side Irwin Girls, forever. <3

So, family. Blood is thicker than water, true enough, but sometimes you find that “family” isn’t always defined by the people you’re related to by blood. If home is where the heart is, then family is the people you care about who care about you.

These girls are my family, and my dorm room here at Baker, surrounded by people I love and who love me, this is my home.

[/rant]

[rant=you-know-who]

And I don’t mean Voldemort.

I don’t understand. Or... I do, but I don’t.

You’re so strong. You’re one of the strongest people I know, so why do you do this to yourself? Why do you hurt yourself like this, telling yourself that you’re not good at something when you are, that you’re stupid or worthless when you’re not? Why do you continue with this, living a miserable existance when there are people that only want to see you happy again. They want you to be happy, to see your smie and know that you’re actually okay.

No matter how many times you say that I don’t know you, I think I know you better than you want to admit. I’m not stupid. Just because I’m blonde doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious. Being blonde means I have to overcome a stereotype simply so that I can prove that I really am smart, that I deserve respect just as much as a girl with red hair, or a brunette.

I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you smile. I’ve seen you laugh. I’ve seen you looking like you were on top of the world. I’ve seen you on a bad day. I’ve seen you on a worse day. I’ve seen him, too.. i’ve met him, talked to him. I don’t see what the issue is. So he’s an ass. He’s just jealous of you. I’ve kept your secret. And though you may assume otherwise, I have no plans on telling anyone. I have no plans on calling you on it, saying something stupid or nasty about it.

You’ll say something, and I’ll counter it, and though you’ll say you did such-and-such, I’ll know that it’s creative truth. You’re not realy into destruction of property, and you know better than to destroy something that’s not yours, though you may jack it for a couple hours to tease me. And really, unless it’s my workbook and I need it, I don’t mind. Granted, I complain, but I know you’ll either give it back, or you’ll leave it somewhere for me to find.

So.... Just so you know, you can only say you’re evil and that I don’t know you a couple times before things like this happen. Like I said, I may be blonde, but I’m smart. I have a wad of random facts that I can spew out as a moment’s notice. I can take a man down with one of five easy-to-reach points on the body. Same with a woman. I can knock someone out. Gouge out an eye. Leap from a building or a bridge (but not Golden Gate; it’s the impact with the water that kills you). Ram a car. Make my own lipbalm. Diagnose alcohol poinsoning. Treat a gunshot wound.

I’m not stupid. And I don’t fall for the same trick more than once or twice.

You’re you, just as I’m me and my roommie is your sibthing. We are who we are, and we can’t change that. So don’t try to. Be yourself. Be who you want to be without fearing what thers are saying. You never know, maybe that’s all that you ever really needed.

I love you. I wish I could say this to your face. I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me. I wish I could tell you. I wish I could simply ask for a moment to be human and hug you, I wish I could tell you. But I’m a coward.

Way to fail, me. Way. To. Fail.

In any case, I think I’m going to go to bed. I’m exhausted.

Ever Yours,
and wishing, thought not for the first time, for a “human moment” of her own,
The Night Thief