My. Friends. Drive. Me. Nuts!

Okay, I love my friends to death, but after a while I start to...spontaneously combust. Or I'm getting there, at least. Like last Wednesday one of my friends called me at ten something-or-other, crying and saying how they'd told one of my guy friends that she liked him and that he was supposedly dating someone else and how blah, blah, blah, blah AGHHH!

Yep. That pretty much sums up how I'm feeling right now. And I'm thankful for them, because they help me get through a lot of my hard times, but...I don't know. I'm high enough maintenance myself; I don't need them, too!

Sigh. It's a good thing I'm lazy today, because if I wasn't I think I might be able to write a biography titled, "Confessions of a Whiner Who Whines About her Dramatic Friends."

Hmm. Maybe shorten the title? Something to think about, I suppose.

Directionless Direction

Lying on my bed staring at the stars,
Wondering about my future.
So unclear, so foggy and terrifyingly undefined,
I find myself breaking under the pressures,
Of living like I know what's going on.

I watch the strangers walk in and out of my heart,
Throwing it away like a disposable garbage bag.
Is that all I am, a piece of trash that was so neglected,
So neglected, in fact, you couldn't be bothered to throw me away?
What have I done to deserve this?
Is this my questionable punishment,
Solitary confinement in a space of dismal hatred?

If I could choose my fate,
It sure as hell wouldn't be in the hands of someone as cruel as you.
I'm just a decoy,
Possession of the person I trusted most.
Bait for when the time comes when you choose to screw me over.

Why do I feel so surprised,
So betrayed?
Setting myself up for heartbreak in the beginning,
I should have known better,
And obviously I haven't learned a damn thing since I first met you.
You've taught me much, though,
How to put up my defenses and block out the insults.
It isn't so easy,
But you'd think I'd have known that by now.

Slow to pick things up,
Slower to leave them behind and make up for the mistakes of my past.
You laugh silently,
At my inability to learn by experience and move on.
But no, I'm stuck in this labyrinth of guilt, confusion, and abyss of uncertainness.

Locked up,
You threw away the key,
I rattle the bars of my cage, cursing you,
When all I get in response is a cold, unresponsive silence.
You're here,
Even when you're not,
And I cannot erase your presence,
Even though I'd like to not only erase you
But kick you out of existence.

If only things could be so simple!
But alas, life doesn't work that way.
Can't believe my stupidity sometimes,
And I'm lucky not to have died by now.

Funny thing, though:
You abandoned me,
Yet every single waking moment is spent
Agonizing over your every move,
Wondering if I can live in your everlasting shadow.

The simple answer,
Lies beneath the pile of lies and half-truths,
But it is impossible to sift through
The weight of your deception.
Thought by now I'd have left you hanging.

Guess I did not pick up on the message
I'd received fifty thousand times before.

Sad how unsurprised I am.

Scrambled

So today someone told me, "You're a retard." Yep. Pretty much. A couple of years ago, I'd be really upset; you know offended and so sensitive I'd be about this close to crying. Now, however, I just laughed in their face and said, "Pfft. Try harder next time to insult me."

One problem down, only fifty thousand, eight hundred and seventy left. No biggie.

In reality, I want to squish myself under a rock and hopefully die there. No, I'm not suicidal. (Thank the lord for small miracles! I don't think I could take a personal death wish at this time, or really, ever.) Yet I'm so close the edge of uncontrollable insanity I'm sort of scared to really explore. Because let me tell you something--once you fall off the cliff, you can't climb back up.

I'm not talking from personal experience, but you meet enough crazies during your lifetime you start to turn into them. But it's okay, right? Crazy, unpredictable psychopaths aren't anything to worry about, obviously. Just as long as they aren't armed they're probably harmless.

Probably. But just give them the weapon check to be sure.

I suppose the point of this post is to talk about how terrible my life is right now. Okay, so not life-threatening terrible, just terrible enough to make me want to pull my hair out (and it's working! I woke up this morning with a chunk of my hair in my hand. Yeah--disturbing).

Why is life so kind and giving to the undeserving and so cruel and unjust to the people who deserve the good things? No, instead we get the short end of the stick, the losing side of a stalemate game of tug of war. And no shit, we're losing. Or maybe I should say I'M losing. It's frustrating after a while. What am I going to tell my friends when I get bald by sixteen? What then? Just call me Katie the Hairless. Sort of like Michael Jackson being called Wacko Jacko, except this time I'm blessing myself with the unflattering nickname.

But that's my life, so it's nothing new. I'm used to it. But even though it's not a surprise when I wake up with fricking huge zit on my forehead or walk into English class forgetting my essay, I can't say it doesn't bother me. HOW DOES THIS WORK?!

And it's funny, because in my public school I was the brunt of all the 'retard, weirdo, crazy psychopath' jokes and now, at my crazy, this-close-from-mental-institution therapeutic school I'm considered normal.

That's right. Normal. As if such a thing were even humanly possible.

Have you ever been embarrassed for someone? It's the worst feeling in the world. Because see, when you mess up or make some terrible blunder, it's okay, because you know what you did wrong or what you did that put you into said mortification scenario and you can, technically, fix it or not do it the next time.

Now with another person who puts themselves into a cringe-worthy situation it's different. You can't scream, "You stupid idiot!! You don't say that!! Go to Wal-Mart and buy a filter, would you?! You are driving me insane with other person-induced embarrassment." I. Hate. It.

I'm not a mean person, but I hate watching other people make a fool of themselves and either not notice or know what they're doing wrong and don't care. But this person...in the middle of Biology first period he started breaking into some weird rendition of who-knows-what, and made some weird comparison to a cell membrane that somehow relates to a character in Super Mario.

Um...what?! How do you make that leap? Cell membranes, in case you didn't know, are a part of a cell that acts like a defensive wall. Mario in Super Mario apparently relates to a cell membrane because some weird creature jumps out at Mario at one point.

I don't normally swear, but...what the fuck?!

I have to look away or bury my head in my hands. I just wince whenever he opens his mouth. How can someone be that fricking oblivious?! It shouldn't be possible! My guy friend, Brian, gets understandably pissed off, and while I get it, I also want to diffuse his easy-to-make-appear temper that easily flares the second said guy opens his mouth. He can't make a single comment or movement or action or behavior that doesn't set Brian off.

Sometimes, though, I wonder if it's a lost cause. Maybe the Human Microphone will learn faster if I unleash Brian on him.

Tempting, but I'm too nice. God dammit. Maybe I should take some First Class Bitch Lessons from the (shh!) Mental Institution's most well-known female dog.

Nope. Can't do that, either. What's wrong with me? Wait, stupid question. I think we all know the answer to this one:

I'm 100% certifiably insane. So how does this possibly make me 'normal?' Besides, normality is an insult, at least to me. I mean, Jesus Christ, normal is so boring. It's like being able to choose between frog legs, calamari, chocolate-covered coach roaches, and a hamburger, and you choose a hamburger.

Or it's like getting the decision to go back to public school or stay at your (Secretly disguised) MI and going back to public school.

The one thing I can count on is going to my MI and getting the finger or someone doing something pretty sketchy.

But hey, that's life. You don't even have to go to my school to see what I'm talking about. Just take a ride down to your local Wal-Mart and I can guarantee you'll see EXACTLY what I'm talking about.

Anyways. I think that's enough for now. Besides, my depression is settling in, and let me tell you, rampaging hormones, teenage angst, and bipolar depression is a horrible, horrible, HORRIBLE mix. I write any longer and I think I really will dive off the deep end.

To that end, you should thank me. But I suppose I'll forgive you if you don't. That's okay, though. Our generation's manners are severely lacking. Hmm. Maybe instead of becoming a writer I should tour around the US and lecture kids and teachers in schools about the importance of politeness.

Another problem with our generation? We know how to talk, but we don't know how to listen. Go figure.

A Random Post About Very Random Things

I'm in ADHD Mode, just thought I should warn you, because otherwise you'd might think I'm psycho. (Which I am, but this isn't the point!)

THINGS THAT ANNOY THE CRAP OUT OF ME--Extended Edition

1. Boys--do I really have to elaborate?
2. Boys who I think like me but who I really just want to be friends with
3. Boys who think they're better than me
4. People.
5. Adults who ask me, "How do you feel?" and I want to punch their lights out
6. People who constantly talk and refuse to shut up, even when you ask them POLITELY
7. Brussels sprouts
8. Whiny people
9. People whose lives' revolve entirely around video games
10. People who actually believe in the zombie apocalypse
11. People who trash talk Nancy Drew
12. People who argue with you even when you know you're right and they know it, too, and they just sound completely idiotic
13. Math--Mental Abuse To Humans
14. Redundant questions
15. Really bad jokes
16. People who laugh hysterically at stuff that really is not funny
17. Boys who still believe in toilet humor
18. Gossip
19. When people try to convince me of something I know is not true and I tell them to leave me alone and they keep bugging me
20. Bitchy girls who think they can say whatever they want and not get in trouble and who, for whatever reason, usually don't
21. People who just reinforce stereotypes and contribute to the issue of preconceived notions
22. And yadda, yadda, yadda, it's all the same.

*Yawn* Time for bed...see you in cyberspace, Bloggers.

Ignorance

"The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference."--Elie Wiesel

 

Makes you wonder, sometimes, how ignorance can possibly be considered bliss. In my opinion, ignorance is ignorance, and nothing else.

 

As I was sitting in my Tuesday school club, GSA (Gay Straight Alliance, for those of you who may or may not know), we were finishing watching the Laramie Project, and I'm pretty sure that by the end of it, I'd cried like I'd never cried before.

 

I know there are those who may have never seen it before, so I'll do a brief overview.

 

On the night of October 6th (and 7th), 1998, in Laramie, Wyoming, a homosexual by the name of Matthew Shepard was killed.

 

Matthew, a 21 year-old going on 22 in a couple of days, was 'given a ride' by two guys around his same age,  Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson, and was beaten up repeatedly until he was pretty much unconscious.

 

McKinney and Henderson drove Shepard to a field out in the middle of nowhere, dragged his unconscious body out of the car, tied him to a fence, and as Matthew gained a bit of consciousness, McKinney and Henderson beat him until he was knocked out cold.

 

That night, Matthew was lying there, tied to that fence, unable to move or talk or do anything, and he was out in the literal middle of nowhere, so much so that there wasn't a soul around for miles.

 

He was discovered in the morning by a bike rider who was going on his daily bike ride, and the biker called 911, the police showing up immediately and bringing Matthew to the nearest hospital.

 

He had severe head trauma and was in a coma/concussion, never awake and aware of what was going on.

 

Meanwhile, uproar spiraled out of control as media got wind of Matthew's death, causing Laramie's residents to panic.

 

"Everyone says, 'Laramie's not that type of town'!" one girl who was interviewed said. "But let's face it: we ARE that kind of town."

 

Other interviewees echoed her statement: "You can't deny what's happened," said one of the men, a member of the LGBTQ Community, much like Matthew. "You  can't say, 'That never happened!' Why? 'Cause it did. As sad and cruel and twisted and WRONG as it is, we're marked by what these kids have done. You can't look at Laramie and view it the same as before Matthew Shepard was killed."

 

As days and weeks passed and Shepard still wasn't recovering, the pandemonium died down but turned into widespread panic. Maybe it was because everyone assumed Matthew would live, and they could just put this behind them. But the longer he stayed in a coma, the less likely the chances were of his survival.

 

And a couple weeks after Matthew was tied to a fence and then brought to a hospital the next morning, he died.

 

And that's when all hell broke loose. People saying Matthew deserved to die; that homosexuality was a crime and an unacceptable way of life. Others defended him, saying that he was a great kid and that there was absolutely no justification for what had happened, and that they were disgusted by what McKinney and Henderson had done.

 

But in the end, more people were okay with Matthew's death and/or celebrating it than the people who stuck up for him and said it was not right.

 

So the Laramie Project was created so that a couple members of the LGBTQ community could interview Laramie's residents and try to get their viewpoints, later on turning it into a play, and then, even later, a documentary.

 

The rest is too disgusting and disturbing to recount here, so if you'd like to know what else happened, I suggest you watch it.

 

As I listened to what some of the people were saying, I have to say I think I was about to slam my fist through the TV screen.

 

Here were these idiots, these absolute ASSHOLES, saying that they were glad Matthew Shepard was dead. Hell, a priest even went so far as to say that he hoped while Matthew was tied to the fence, bleeding and dying slowly, was thinking about the impact his lifestyle had on the 'members of Laramie,' and that it was an unjustified way of life.

 

I was dumbstruck. How can you justify murder?! It doesn't matter if you commit a hate crime-murder-because of someone's race, or if they're a member of the LGBTQ community, or they have red hair, or a bad case of acne, or even a really bad taste in shoes! There is no excuse for murder, and that's final.

 

And yet, here these jackasses were, saying that they killed Matthew because he was 'coming onto them' and that he 'got scared' and so it was perfectly fine to shoot him with his pistol and then knock him on the head with the pistol's blunt end, a force so strong that's probably where half of Matthew's injuries came from.

 

And I know I can't change the world, wave my magic wand and say, "Poof! You are no longer a hater of X, Y, and Z," but I just wish that people could, yeah, have these thoughts.

 

But what is wrong with this world is that we don't keep these to ourselves. We shout it out, making the discriminated feel like crap (understatement) until they're so beaten down they just accept it and live with it.

 

And you know what else? That's. Just. Not. Okay. It's just not okay!!

 

This is the bottom line, my main point of this blog post:

 

Ignorance is one of the main reasons why we have such a hard time with discriminators. People listen to the stereotypes, breathe in rumors about said person, and then form this universal image of what those types of people look like, act like, behave like, and how 'different' they are from themselves.

 

They are not different. They aren't. They're exactly just like you, just born liking their same sex, or born being black, or etc., etc., etc. And I'll tell you something: you're just as bad as everyone else every time you make a 'joke' about people who are 'different' from you, or entertain a rumor that is obviously not true.

 

Though you may not mean to do it, you are contributing to the problem, plain and simple. So don't do it. Make the time to actually meet someone, form your own opinion, one that stems from an actual knowledge of who the person is.

 

'Cause I'll tell you one thing: when you do, you will see exactly-and I mean exactly-what I mean when I say that.

 

So next time you judge someone, ask yourself what you really know about that person. Not what you've been told; what you really, truly know.

 

And I can guarantee it isn't much.