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I Say What I Mean But I Don't Mean What I Say
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| Now I Need A Guillotine To Get You Off My Mind. You Were Swept Up In The Buzz Of A Marriage. |
[Nov. 23rd, 2006|04:51 pm] |
Future Freaks Me Out. Yes. That IS an Emo song. Eff off.
I think I already have something that a lot of people think they want. But that's because they're idiots.
What *I* want is to go to college and become completely detached from the world until I get a Ph. D. and get a real job afterwards. I want to break my Internet addiction, break any lingering sexual (even kissing) desires, not call anyone, not visit anyone. Just be obsessed with my major. I wouldn't care about the cost of school because I'd get one of those student loans that don't charge you anything until you have a job. When I'm done with school and get a job, I want to start planning my wedding, and not see my future husband until the kiss at the vows. (Blindfolds, anyone?) Then I want to move into a house with a computer hooked with Internet (because I'll probably need it for work-related project), and almost no other distractive electronics. I only want to stock my refrigerator with healthy food, and I don't want any pets or kids. An empty house.
Back to the wedding part. My boyfriend and me have been together for a combined amount of around 4 years. To not screw anyone for about 20 years really would require isolation (and perhaps stronger religious devotion). But I'm willing to shoot for it so far because it's inspirational that he wants to wait and wait until he's in his 30's. He wants to work, cut himself, sleep. Wait. And I know him well enough to know that he probably would. If I can't stand a loveless life of numbness while my sorority girls talk about the new sex positions their one-night-stands showed them, then I have the option of telling my boyfriend to just... break it off until I'm done with college. But that's not exactly an option because he would join the Army because he would strongly believe that I'd've found another man or woman to make me happy. (The Army is like a guarantee that you won't see anyone you love ever again.)
Other people I know aren't as romantically mature. My boyfriend and me have only dated two people each, and both with the intent of marriage. It's too difficult for me to relate to people other than my boyfriend. Which is awkward because I have little in common with my boyfriend.
This part of my life is just so scary. You see, this school year, I've been focusing on meeting new people, maintaining friends, etc. moreso than school work, and I think it just makes me depressed. I don't like getting bad test grades. I don't like forgetting about homework assignments. I don't like turning in projects late. I don't like getting like 3 hours of sleep a night, especially since I'm an Insomniac. But, worst of all, I noticed that being sociable causes me to desire people, even though I know no one will care about me the way my boyfriend does. Why, just the other day, he said the cutest thing to me, "Of course I'm picky; I chose you as my wife."
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| Like A Dead Body Burned On The Mantelpiece |
[Oct. 30th, 2006|07:43 pm] |
In Family Dynamics, we watched a Lifetime movie called Mom At Sixteen, and today we started watching a movie called Fifteen And Pregnant. Both movies scare the hell out of me (although I'm neither 15 nor 16, but, rather, almost 18). Astonishingly, the second the class period ended (it's my last class of the day) I was pissed off. I sent Jorge a really cruel text message to the extent of:
"I want my tubes tied. I never want to ruin my life with a kid like your mom did. And who cares what the kid would look like cuz you're probably going blind! And if I start smoking, you'll leave me."
He called me back, retorting, "Don't you ever mention this again. You have deeply hurt me because I love kids. If you want to do it, feel free to go do it, but don't EVER tell me about it."
I was all upset suddenly, and whined, "But it's not your choice to make!"
But he knows that. He has a response to everything. "Yes, of course it's not my choice at all. It's not my choice that my future wife doesn't want kids and refuses to adopt any. It's YOUR choice. Just don't tell me about it."
At that point I just choked up and asked if I could go visit him at work.
Of course, the two friends of his that are always hanging around, helping him out after school while waiting for their mom to pick them up, were chatting it up with him at his work about fucking pointless Animé. They're never even talking about Animé with morals. If that idea ever crossed their mind, then they'd just mention parts that look dodgy out of context, but, in fact, aren't. They're aimless conversation. It's like...
What if Golden Boy saw Naruto's Sexy Ninjitsu do this and Ouran High School Host Club is sooo "hilarious" because this one episode is just like this one Gravitation episode except the fact that the blonde-haired guy in Ouran isn't gay-he just flirts with guys-and blah blah blah.
Fucking waste of noise.
So I sit there for hours going out of my mind. Today I got lucky because I got to go on MySpace since there was only one customer when I was there [customer = not allowed to touch the computer]. When the two LBHS kids were in the kitchen, Jorge and I had time for a few sentences before I had to leave, but they didn't suffice in the least bit. "Oh my God, I told Drew about yada yada yada and he was like da da da da and so I was like oh my God I know!" Dumb shit like that. Crap that's amusing, but not when I'm crying. Goddamn. What do I have to say to get some attention around here? "I'm getting an abortion. Just kidding, I'm not pregnant." ???!!! [And if you're slow, I most certainly am a virgin. So re-read the sentence until you understand it.]
The closest I got to sympathy was when the LBHS chick said to me, "Hey, why are you so quiet today?" I muttered, "Oh. But I'm always quiet." Then Jorge chimed in with a, "She's just quiet today because I kinda pissed her off a little before." I was glad he noticed, but Jesus Christ, take me to the back of the bakery and say something to make me feel better. All I got was the girl fake-gasping and saying, "You should kick his ass." All I could do was mutter, "Nah." And just like that, the topic reverted back to nimrod Animé.
I honestly don't know what he can stand about kids, given his circumstances. He has to take care of his mother's children, and had to drop out of school in order to work so that he can feed them. He's poor, and has only enough time in a day to sleep, work, and run errands for his whore of a mother. She's not a slut. But she is through my eyes. My dad's side of the family hasn't had a divorce in the generations that matter enough to be included. Consequently, I was raised to date with marriage in mind, and I'm expected to never divorce, and to never EVER live with a guy who isn't my fiancéé. People who have kids and don't marry, repel me. It's something that obviously is disastrous in terms of stress and finance. It's not my concern. I shouldn't have to go to a parade with a double baby carriage that keeps me from enjoying myself because I can't stray away or leave prematurely, and I shouldn't have to have people thinking the kids are mine and that I'm making someone-who would seem to be my mother-take care of them for me. My parents studied hard to bring me to a classier level than that. It's a dishonor to my family to be perceived as... that.
But that's a rare and, unfortunately, fortunate opportunity because his opportunities to hang out are very rare. And when they do come up, I have to pay with my own money. Most recently, I looked for my Birthday and Christmas money that I've saved for years and years, which was only about $150, but purely mine nonetheless, and it was gone. When my mom sees money in the house, she grabs it. If I say it's mine, she'll say that she'll pay it back, but she always forgets, and buys more sandals or whatever for herself. She cleaned my room. I can't find my money anywhere. So I had to ask my parents to buy Jorge's Halloween Horror Nights ticket as well as mine. I couldn't stop crying. Even now it makes me cry. I should be able to spend and keep my own money.
Another thing I can't stand about his mom is her idea of equality. Jorge's Horror Nights ticket cost $60.00 plus tax. Jorge's mom bought me a $15.00 (plus tax?) ticket to the Calle Orange festival as well as a soda and some food. Yet she would've been pissed at me if Jorge told her that I refused to get him any food or drinks at Horror Nights because she offered those to me at Calle Orange. That's such fucking bullshit. And the horror is that Jorge's beliefs mirror her beliefs. I just think it's fucked up that if I want to marry HIM, I'm stuck with HER.
But whatever the fuck happens, happens. If it means hanging out with Jorge, then I'm probably down with it because he has a way with words that alleviates my stress from home.
Mind you, I consider my household to be nearly perfect. But my parents don't understand that when I'm upset, I'm UPSET.
Every 5 minutes it's my dad saying...
"Heather, you have to do your math. You can be online later. Math will clear your mind. Just get it over with. Come on, it's getting really, really late, and you have a lot of problems to do. More than she usually assigns. You know it's no fun to do math in the morning before school."
and my mom saying...
"Heather, what's wrong? Are you sad? Did someone do something to you? Is one of your friends hurt? Who's bothering you? Does it involve Jorge?"
So I keep getting upset and keep having to write about being upset until I feel a little better. If they'd leave me be, I'd get a lot better.
If they don't let me vent my stress out in writing, what do they want me to do?
Drink? Take over-the-counter pills? Smoke cigarettes? Get high on illegal drugs? Over-eat? Cut myself? Kill myself??
I got them a number for a medical hospital that counsels at a very low cost or whatever. They haven't called yet for info. It's been like a month since I got the number. What kind of impression AM I to receive?
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| Trying To Create Something That's Not There |
[Oct. 12th, 2006|04:48 pm] |
I'm sure I've done many embarrassing things in my life, but they tend to fade from memory. However, yesterday turned out to be quite the refresher, as it was an event that I'd love to forget.
After school, my dad said he'd wait about 20 minutes before picking me up due to traffic, so I went to Jorge's job. Two friends were there and one of their own friends. They were folding boxes. I went behind the counter, and Jorge smiled and said, "But you're a customer, so you have to wait over there." If anything, it sounded jokingly. I tried to get to him, but he kept moving around. He asked one of the girls to help him out, and she took my $50 fedora and held it over the garbage. Omg, I'm so glad she didn't drop it cuz that hat is brand new. Then the hat was kinda thrown around, and Jorge got them to stop. I kept trying to get to Jorge, but it wasn't working. But what else was I supposed to be doing? He hadn't asked me to do anything like box-folding, so I wanted to hug him and stuff. He believes that boys should handle boys and girls should handle girls, so when the girls left, he said he'd call 9-1-1. I kinda made dumb comments like, "You need to call the police instead," to stall it. He didn't call them, but he really was going to on the grounds of sexual harassment. As if he even let me get close enough to him. I quietly asked him (as there was still a boy from my school present) why he was acting that way, and he said that our private behavior is inappropriate in public, which offended me. He did mention the word "friend" once, but it seemed very playfully, in the same way that he used to call me "sister" sometimes when I tried to kiss him and stuff in public, so I'd stop and he'd be amused.
But then the worst thing that could happen, happened. There's a girl from school named Storm, and Jorge and me could never figure out if she's ever had a crush on Jorge or not because she's so mysterious, and she goes to the bakery a lot, so yesterday had to be one of those days. My heart sunk when she came in because I neither wanted her to think that Jorge and me were nor weren't going out. I wanted to go in the kitchen when I saw her, so I could hide, but I didn't want Jorge to get pissed at me for going there without his permission, because he never cared, but yesterday he had rules for everything. I figured it was because there weren't any adults there that day. So I just kinda stood there, staring at Storm, without doing anything, and Jorge asked her to take me out from behind the counter. I didn't anticipate that request, so I waited for her to escort me, since I couldn't bring myself to do it myself at that point because I couldn't fathom the multitude with which I felt insulted. She escorted me in a way that seemed to suggest that she thought I wasn't dating Jorge and that I was trying to win his heart and that he wanted me to leave. I was so heartbroken, that the moment she left my side, I went behind the far end of the counter to save myself the embarrassment of sitting at a table doing nothing, while he and Storm chatted away. It didn't seem fair at all. Especially since he hadn't talked to me the entire time I was there. Not as a conversation. He then asked her AGAIN to remove me since technically I was behind the counter even though that was only like a step away from the table. At that point I was exasperated. And then the school's volleyball team came in. I wanted to leave the moment they entered, to save myself the embarrassment of leaving before Storm did, but my dad hadn't yet arrived. I kept facing the wall behind the counter (with a big rack behind me so no one would notice) and I played the Alien Scum game on my phone until he did come. The team was still there, so I bolted outside without looking to see if I knew any of them.
Later on, I called Jorge and asked him why he had embarrassed me, and he said, "I embarrassed you?" So I replied, "Yeah..." He reacted as if what I had said was quite audacious. "Well, to me, it looks as if you embarrassed me. But I don't think you want me to talk about that right now because there's a guy here who goes to your school, and he's about to learn more of our problems." I didn't really care because I wanted an answer, so I started to clarify what I had already asked, and he hung up on me.
So then I called him at 8:40 because I have free minutes after 9:00, but I couldn't wait that long. He didn't pick up. He called me back at 9something. And apparently, he didn't know why I had called. So I asked, "What did I do that embarrassed you?" Rage flooded his voice, and he went on and on about how he treats his friends in and outside of work. Which was awkward because when we were friends, he didn't treat me like he treated his other friends when he was outside of work. He didn't neglect to mention that the box-folders asked what was up with me, and he replied, "I don't know why the fuck she's acting that way, or if I'm being used. And if she's using me, then I guess I'm letting her."
The conversation hit me hard. It took such a toll on me that when he was done speaking, I made him wait a while before I could even attempt words, for they wouldn't come to me, and I was so choked up. I cried so much that I had like the second worst head ache of my life, that I can remember. Perhaps I had worse headaches on the worst days of my life, but was too enraged with myself to notice them at all.
When I was together enough to raise a point, I simply stated that, "It's just that I thought we were more than that." I wound up citing the conversation we had last on the phone where I said several times that I "would" go out with him, but he ignored me every time because he was too busy thinking about sentences I said before saying that I'd go out with him, so he used selective hearing to block out what did not pertain.
I doubt that I'm going to see him much at all now. He doesn't go to school, I'm not allowed to go over his house, he's too lazy and tired and moody from work to go to my house or-moreso-to go elsewhere with me, and now I'm too ashamed to go to his bakery because he can clear things up to the two of three box-folding people he knew-but not to Storm. He'd forget, maybe she'd forget. But I always looked up to her, and since she saw me defeated, I don't want to come anywhere near that building she visits so much ever again, although circumstances-possibly desperation to see my lover-will probably force me to do so in the future.
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| A Childish Little Girl Who Falls For Dictatorial Mature Working Men |
[Sep. 19th, 2006|08:36 pm] |
I've spoken with Emo-haters before. Some merely say, "go die you emo cunt!" However, there are others who explain that what irritates them is the fact that people in the United States are privileged, so they have no right to complain about trivial matters, and if there's something in need of progressive intervention, something must be DONE (as oppose to writing poems about it).
Don't get me wrong, this entry is not about Emo kids. I am, rather, reflecting on personal embarressment towards complaining about something that isn't worth complaining towards.
I went out with Jorge, he broke up with me for a while because I didn't like-like him until our relationship was ending. But we remained friends. And, subsequently, we got back together. If you count the month numbers of when we were together, we lasted almost 4 years.
But he already had a younger brother [age: 11], and then his mother had a new baby, and got pregnant with another one. And then her boyfriend, father to the two babies, left. So Jorge had to drop out of highschool after Junior year to work at the family bakery. Naturally, I'd want a boyfriend that I could see every weekday at school. I also love to hang out with people and go places. He became too moody and too exhausted to even come to my house.
Since he was my first boyfriend, he agreed to let me go out with him after I independently learn life's lessons/make my own choices/try new experiences on my own for a year and a half-unless I, "commit suicide or fall in love with another guy, or girl."
A day later I went out with Ryan, who I've had a crush on for as long as I've known Jorge [and vise versa]. He thought that he was in love with me. But he hates me unconditionally. I have to be particularly silent about being bisexual because he considers that the same as being a lesbian, which revolts him, so the notion alone is enough to allow for himself to break up with me.
When I was with Jorge, I did evolve drastically. For about a year, I was icy and ruthless. I called him, "my bitch," and I disliked being anywhere near him. I'd even sit at a table, and he'd kneel on the floor next to me. But he's a creature of feeling. So, to reclaim him after our break-up, I became a dress-wearing [Oh, how I used to run from the very thought. It was a nightmare because I always desired to be girly and doll-like, but I convinced myself that that wasn't what I really wanted, because I didn't want to be "stupid," as such girls are labeled.], hugging-my-boyfriend-to-death, expressive [I used to be entirely silent. And, when I spoke, viciously rude.] feminine girl. And I never ceased to perfect the image.
I didn't want to loose friends to my excessive complaints, so I worked very hard and fast on amplifying my social skills, which, in my case, are astonishing levels of giddyness, ditzyness, clumseyness, gullibility, and naivity. And it worked out perfectly. And it made me even girly-er.
And now Ryan needs me to destroy it all and assume robot-clone position.
He's entirely certain that I'm the most idiotic person he ever met. And he made sure that I understood that. I thought he was emphasizing that just to feel better by demeaning me, but apparently he meant for it to be a signal to stop being childish and snuggly.
So, yesterday, he was pretty out of it, and said it was because he wasn't feeling well. That night, I recieved a call from my friend Juan. Aparently, he slipped on a wet floor, and can't use one of his legs, and will probably need a wheelchair. He's bummed out about it because he can't dance now.
So, today, I was REALLY looking foward to Ryan's mock-bliss side. The side I knew when he'd say, "I love you too," and when he'd kiss me. But today he was STIFF. When I walked next to him, instead of taking my hand, he'd keep his in his pockets. When I sat down, he'd remain standing. When I'd play with hair, he'd readjust his position and inch away from me. I even tried to massage his shoulders, and he reacted VERY strangely. He looked amused, and pulled me off him.
I didn't think it was I, however, who was tormenting him. And I didn't want to ask, because he never answers the questions I ask him anyway. After he left, I hung out with my friend Daniel for a while. When I got home, Ryan was online, so I asked if it was me who was bothering him, and, of course, it was. It always is. I've always asked him what he didn't like about me so that I wouldn't get hit with everything at once, on the edge of break-up. But he's convinced that I'm never right about anything.
And, I quote, his reasons for being a statue today...
"you're lazy, you don't respect the fact that sometimes i have shit to do, you're a slut. you're not going to change, because you're not going to grow up. you're immature, in every possible way i can think of that the word is defined. you embody immature. and i can't stand it. we're fucking adults."
We're not over yet, but if I don't entirely convert myself to that... shell... of a person he needs me to be, then he WILL break up with me. And I'll probably write suicide notes and a really ghetto will [as I don't actually know what a will looks like] and maybe a final letter to my two penpals [not suicide notes, just normal letters]. Then I might drink poison. I'm too wussy to cut my wrists to the bloody extent of death.
My friend, Trent, who saved me the last time I was going to kill myself, was online subsequently after the harsh reality. But he didn't im me. So I didn't im him. That would be excess and burdenfull. Instead I whined to the aforementioned Daniel. I'm sorry to say that he lacks the unscripted talent to talk even your stereotypical opinion-swayed, dependent Preppy girl out of driving off a cliff. But he at least tried. I think he tried very hard, infact. Especially for someone who's not on his MySpace Top8.
And, I quote, his piteous attempts...
"please don't go to pieces. please talk. talk. now. but don't change because someone wants you to. change if you want to. please tell me what you're thinking. heather?"
" :( you shouldn't do that. i'd give you the world, but the world is not enough. bye bye heather. *heart* "
Had he not intervened though, I would need a knife to cut my thighs [I don't want my parents seeing my battle scars.].
So my parents want to waste what little money they have on counseling because I don't feel comfortable talking to them.
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| From The Frontman Of Dashboard Confessional |
[Mar. 19th, 2006|08:12 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  bouncy | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | Rihanna - S.O.S. | ] |
OMG CHRIS FROM DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL ANSWERED MY QUESTION!!!
I did a search on a movie and wound up on a message board and I came across the mother of a girl who is a close friend of Chris Carrabba [Who does the theme song for Spider-Man2!!!]! She even says that her and her daughter are going to try to get me a pass to MEET Dashboard Confessional backstage!! And even if they can't, they're going to be kind enough to let me know when DC's playing in Florida. ^----^
The reason the topic of Chris came up was because I associated Emo with death, and the lady wanted to know Chris's take on what I said, since-according to her-Emo is associated with life.
THIS IS CHRIS'S RESPONCE:
My emo experience has always been based on life, not death. I started writing songs as my way of coping with this world, as a therapeutic process. I don't see a connection with death in emo other than the death of relationships or the death of pretense and if there are messages to what I write/what I want my band to express it is "Don't let yourself down. Be true to yourself. Face yourself and move on with your life." I believe that people who go to a Dashboard Confessional show are there not only to participate which is part of life but often to purge themselves of emotional baggage which is also part of life. Remember that emo music is nothing new. Its just a way to distinguish the sentimental songs of punks from the rest of society and I try to write things that say "Let your true self out more instead of keeping up an image that isn't really you."
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| "How Come I Must Know Where The Passion Hides Its Feelings?" |
[Feb. 1st, 2006|10:01 pm] |
| [ | Current Mood |
| |  discontent | ] |
| [ | Current Music |
| | dot hack//SIGN - Obsession | ] |
My God, I feel so under-appreciated.
My mom is trying to force me to share her Christian beliefs by playing Christian rock all day long, by inviting me to Christian rock consorts, by making me go to Church with her every other Sunday, by hanging a rosary & crosses in my room, and so on.
My Church's Priest is trying to help me with my religious distraught, but he suggests that I go on a pilgrimage so I can be open to callings, which would be great advice, except I'm not leaving for Spain until the summer, and I feel that I MUST pray at a Roman Catholic Cathedral there. But that is the summer. And I must endure what's to come before then. I feel so disaffiliated with my Church and, since I'm only brave by means of e-mail, I feel that my Priest doesn't see my dependence upon him. I had even enclosed a photograph of myself at the end of an e-mail for seemingly no reason, yet it was because I need him to know me, which is why I also sign those e-mails with my full name.
My boyfriend is trying to resist me because he hopes that I will get bored with him and by the summer, I would be so disinterested that I would date Spanish men during my stay in Spain. I would rather have him come with me if I could, but perhaps I need an escape from my interdependence of his sense of direction, his domestic skills, his decisiveness. I suppose that is why I received an offer that I chose over visiting Mexico, in which case he might've came along with me.
But it isn't just freedom-freedom of religion & freedom of empowerment-it's prevention that concerns me.
My Love is evading what I ask of him and what I offer him in hopes that he may do so until summer in hopes of me meeting someone who he would consider to be worthwhile.
It's disappointing that he cannot rid himself of that idealistic mindset. I fear it will always persist. However, I don't actually believe that it would. Not after marriage. Whether that is impossible or not, it is probably a result of my own idealism.
But I've been trying so hard lately to make our relationship work and to please him. He's obsessed with me, so the things that I do for him seem like almost no effort at all in his opinion.
* I've tried to act interested in things that he's interested in, even asking questions about them because I know he enjoys ranting. But he doesn't take notice.
* I've alwaystried so hard to never hurt him. He feels that I do so all the time physically and mentally. He won't explain his logic to me because he doesn't like to be reminded of it. He forces himself to forget almost everything.
* I've spent days on a LJ entry just for him because he was really upset that we kept trying to avoid being sexual, but when one wasn't sexual, that innocence made the other sexual. In the entry, I included hundreds of things to do. They took me forever to research. And he refused to even look at it.
He won't even let me benefit him.
* I beg him to sit down at lunch because I can't hug him while I'm standing since I have to hold my lunch. But he sits the second Kate comes because they play Egyptian Rat Screw. Kate always invites me to play, but my reaction time is even too slow to slap into the game.
* He gets so upset when I accidentally hurt him, but he thinks it's funny when Kate playfully hits him when he slaps the card deck before her in Rat Screw.
* He complains that we don't go anywhere because he doesn't have any money. So he hangs out with Elffie most weekends. He finally got money from his friends as birthday gifts. But his mom makes him spend his money on her. FAST.
I asked him to let me hold onto the money so he can spend it gradually. He says that I'll probably spend it myself. That hurts me on several levels. A few minutes before I offered to hold onto it, he tried to give money to Elffie because Elffie was hungry. And like 2 days before this happened, he neglected to keep track of my DVDs as promised, so someone has two of my DVDs. If he was trying as hard as he believes he did to find them, he would have contacted all of his friends by the following day, at most.
He could let me hold onto the money incase he can't figure out who has my movies, in which case he would have to pay me back, as promised. But if he keeps that money, he's gonna spend it. FAST. He already owes me like 60 bucks, without counting the DVD replacement costs. For his birthday, he only received 30 bucks.
And when I told him those concerns, he was greedy about it, as always. He only defended his side by saying that he's trying to get my DVDs back. Whatever. Greedy.
* I try to force myself on him so he will kiss me back or hug me back, but he doesn't let me.
* I beg him to give me orders because I love being a slave for him, but he wants to be my slave, but I won't let him, so he doesn't even call me Slave anymore. I simply love serving him. But he disapproves because I can only do sexual things, since I'm not accustomed to housework.
Some kind of Maid, right? Can't even use a dish-washing machine. |
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mallot_wielder's journal
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