so let us not talk falsely now

we are catsitting bootsie again for a couple of weeks. he is the cutest. though he is easy to trip over as he will follow ya around anywhere. lol i caught a pic of him with his tongue out:

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the moving process is really getting to my mom. there is just so much to do and she doesn’t know where to start. it’s so overwhelming. today i’m going to start changing out doorknobs for her at least. i don’t actually know how to yet, but i figure there’s a youtube video for that.

her interview in virginia went really well. she was offered the job and more: they said she should also apply for a supervisory position that was open, as she would most likely get it instead. she is happy, but would probably be starting november 10, which is looming too close for comfort.

i’m most likely going to give my two weeks notice sometime in the next few days, which is crazy. i just got a pin and a certificate that shows that i have been there for five years. insanity. i always tell people i meant to quit within the first few weeks and just never followed through.

it rains constantly. i love it, i hate it. there are worms out everywhere, covering the sidewalk and even the street. i feel a stupid hero thing where i feel as though i have to rescue every single stupid one or i’m a moderately bad person, but i try to ignore it. i try to tell myself that you can’t save every single thing in the world. lol i guess i’m moderately bad then.

years ago at my aunt’s house in the minnesota countryside, in the barn, i was alone. my mom and aunt were in town, getting groceries or something. there was a kitten that was fading, dying rapidly for seemingly no reason. it was probably around 7 weeks old? i was around 7 or 8 years old, and was so confused and terrified.

my cousin was supposed to be watching me but was upstairs playing video games with his friend. i remember bringing the kitten inside and bundling it up in a towel, as it was growing so cold. i checked its gums, not knowing really what to do. they were so pale. ha, i even brought the kitten back into the barn to its mother, who was an untame feral. in my helplessness, i hoped she would somehow help it. but she wouldn’t come near. i tried giving the kitten water, but it was totally lethargic and wouldn’t drink.

so anyway, the kitten ended up dying within the hour. i was heartbroken. i brought it out to the end of the grove, where a soybean field met the trees. i buried it, still wrapped in the towel, under an oak as the sun set.

i don’t know if i told my mom right away about the kitten. i felt like it was my fault, even at that idiotic age. probably more so than i would now. kids are rather irrational and simplistic about blame i suppose. i held a grudge against my cousin for years for not being there for me.

i think instances in my life like that one kitten have shaped my moral compass rather severely. i had bad anxiety even swimming in my grandma’s pool growing up as i felt the need to rescue drowning insects, feeling like if i failed to try, i was losing sight of the preciousness of even the smallest life.

idk, i think it’s probably some sort of disorder, haha. i wish i was humblebragging or the like, but i actually find this whole quality of mine detrimental instead of helpful in most instances. i am all too ready to let myself suffer emotionally or physically if it means helping someone or something else. i have a terrible perspective on the measure of other lives versus my own. it usually ends up hurting me in the long run. awareness is suffering, existence is pain, yadda yadda yadda. i guess i just feel like if you help, sometimes it’s useless and for nothing. but how do you know until you try? and if i didn’t try, i’d regret it. if i do try, sometimes i regret it too tho. so try, don’t try. who really cares. i’ll probs feel a bit bad no matter what i do. might as well continue trying for the sake of neurotic consistency.

 

a night in search of a day

my mom’s friend from work is raising 5 kittens whose mom was hit by a car. they are about 4 weeks old now. so like the good person my mom is, she offered to take two to foster. but after my mom’s friend took care of them for a couple of days, she decided she would be okay feeding them on her own. i was sort of disappointed. i love taking care of kittens. it’s hard because you have to feed them every few hours, but it is so rewarding to see them grow and thrive so quickly.

the packing process continues. my stepdad left for DC yesterday. he won’t be back to iowa most likely as a resident. it’s up to me and my mom to take care of everything. stressful..

my mom has a job interview on wednesday in virginia at a hospital. the downside of it is that it wouldn’t be a federal job and if she ever wanted to go back into the VA system she would have to jump through the same hoops that she had at the beginning. the upside is that it isn’t a VA hospital. a big no offence, but veterans have a tendency to be rather…demanding. there are a lot of vietnam war-age veterans who are totally bigoted: racist, sexist; drug & alcohol addicted. also, most importantly, they are often non-compliant with treatment. you would think they would take orders better. the vets aren’t all bad obviously, but often a bad impression can overwhelm a bunch of good ones. just like most people meet one good veteran and assume all of them are heroes deserving of the utmost regard. in reality, like every group, veterans are quite a mixed bag.

the current political situation in the US has me cynical and irritated. where i’m usually non-confrontational, i just want to yell at someone about it all.

my stepdad voted for trump, and i’m not even mad. i’m just deeply disappointed. i want to blame him and people like him: the rich, the sheltered. the self-serving, privileged, persecution-complex riddled few who doublethink things like love thy neighbour and deport all immigrants without mercy.

what the fuck kind of thoughts even go through their minds? ‘jesus loves, jesus saves, so i sure as hell don’t have to????!’

i get tired of trying to be the bigger person and forgive people when i don’t even follow an ideology that goes on and on about it. and it hurts, because i forgive others for things i would never let slide when it comes to me. it feels unfair of me.

obviously i’m not perfect, but at least i’m self-aware enough to see my flaws, where certain other people just seem to glide through life without a stress in the world about their actions or inactions. i sometimes believe that people should be constantly in a state of cognitive dissonance, they should be torn on what the right thing to do is, all the time. there should be no hard and fast rules to cheat your way through life on. life, as complex and multi-layered as it is, should not be simple, no matter how much we all wish it were sometimes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

i love everyone that i have ever known

i never really talked about my dna results from xmas. apparently (lol this isn’t really a surprise) about 60% of my dna is of western european origin. boring. it’s all germany, netherlands, belgium, and luxembourg. the rest is ireland/scotland/wales, iberian peninsula, great britain, scandinavia, european jewish, northwest russian, and less than 2% polynesian. so i’m a european mutt. guess i gotta start colonizing the whole freaking universe now and building neoclassical architecture all over da place in my own honor. no, i’m american, so i’ve really gotta start liberating people of their lives and give the rest freedom and equality and fraternity…okay and we’re back to france.

so boring really, though. i wanted a surprise. like maybe i’m not actually human or something along those lines, or i was adopted and my real family is even cooler. i also hoped it would give me an idea of my grandma’s father’s heritage. i always wondered about him. my grandma was adopted by her stepfather, and only met her biological dad twice in her life. i was always super curious about that. so mysterious.

it is 4:30 PM and it is snowing. i hope it snows so much class is cancelled tomorrow morning. snow days are the best. it’s a shame i hate winter so much, otherwise i could enjoy it. i used to like it. snow angels, snow forts, getting a four-wheeler stuck in the snow. ah. simpler times apparently revolved around snow.

alas, class probably won’t be cancelled. the snow isn’t really even sticking, it melts as it arrives.

all we’re doing in world religion is listening to dumb presentations. i’m sorry jan, but i don’t care about how the anglican church moved away from the catholic church and the pentecostal church moved away from the anglican church. so. boring. ok so it is a little interesting, and by interesting i mean funny. like, there are so many denominations with only slight differences, it’s crazy. i went to a non-denominational church up until age 7, and i’m pretty sure that’s a sin. i wonder if there is a separate heaven for each denomination, or how they sorted that out. seems like an oversight on somebody’s part. get on that. shakes fist at sky

all the cats are sleeping except ari. he’s prowling around, from window to window, watching the snowflakes tumble down.

walking lucy earlier was nice. the snow rustled my coat softly as it landed. it was almost peaceful, except for the traffic ruining my nice usual iowa april moment of snowfall.

 

if he made me in his image then he’s a failure too

i wouldn’t read this one.

i don’t like talking about this with people.. i have a hard enough time making friends, without a divergent worldview.

i used to be religious, but then i realized i didn’t have to be. lol, peer pressure. i used to describe myself as an atheist, as a secular humanist, and now i found a great new word: an apatheist

see, all my friends were religious, and went to an after-school program called release. i don’t really remember what we did there, just normal activities, like games and coloring and such, but with religious overtones.

one day i thought to ask one of my friends, phoebe, why she didn’t go to release. she was younger than all of us, because she was put ahead a grade. even back then i could tell she was very “with-it”. like, very self-aware. i didn’t possess that trait much yet, but could recognize it in others. so i asked her why she didn’t go, and she answered that her family wasn’t religious and that she didn’t really believe in God. and that freaking blew my mind. i was such a follower, so indoctrinated, that it didn’t even cross my mind that it was an option not to believe in God. and so the seed of doubt was planted by a little sinner named phoebe, lmao. my friends back in elementary school were little jerks, as was i. phoebe was kind of apart from all of us, though. i still wonder how she’s doing, but this was forever ago, so i don’t really wanna reach out like a weirdo.

by age 14 i was on my last religious leg. i got sick of the bigotry, the hypocrisy. even now when i encounter it, i feel sick. like this guy in my religion class, who said aloud that he hoped gays knew that they were evil. ugh. i almost lied and said that i was gay, as i wanted to mess with him. but, alas, i didn’t.

sometimes i miss being religious. no questions, no thinking about all the what-ifs in the world. just simple, blind, dumb (not as in stupid, but as in silent) acceptance of fate. but i can’t seem to go back to that headspace. it’s gone, which is okay with me. i was an emotional wreck when i was religious, too, so i don’t think the bible or the torah or the quran could help me now. i don’t think they say anything about mental illness.

i know that religion can be a powerful tool for good, but i just can’t shake the fact that it can be a powerful tool for evil, too. i don’t wanna end up on the bad side of history. though honestly, i enjoy meeting and learning from people of different faiths, as long as it isn’t the toxic sort of faith that makes you think of gay people as evil.

i think i’ve said this before, but i am so mean-spirited and vengeful that the only time i wish i believed in a definitive afterlife, heaven-and-hell type scenario for the universe is when i meet a particularly ugly-on-the-inside person. then i wish with all my heart that there was a special hell for them. and it’s funny, all the bad sorts are so convinced in their own religious or moral superiority, so convinced the good afterlife is waiting for them. i’d probs go to hell. i don’t believe in any deity (and if i did, i still wouldn’t worship any of the current ones ’cause frankly they all seem like narcissistic dicks in the sky). so if there is an afterlife, i’m screwed. which is okay. i’m having such fun here.

i just want everyone, whatever their faith, to not be an ass to me or anyone else. is that too much to ask?

looks around

apparently, yes.

 

i take the thought of you and burn it to the ground

got 100% on one of my tests today, the one in world religion. it was about buddhism and sikhism. i was shocked to see my score when it was handed back to me. the one i graded had minus 16. i totally made hardly-educated guesses on a couple of answers. plus there’s a curve, so i got 4 extra points because apparently everyone sucks but me. then after class, i threw up in the bathroom. i guess my stomach decided it wasn’t as overjoyed as me. lol, karma.

i went home not long after that. now i’m beating myself up over leaving, as i totally could have stayed.

i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i’m going to call on friday and try to get in to see the doctor early.

trying to tend to the dead parts of my mind. where nothing good grows. sometimes the truth is so ugly that there is no way to live with it intact and be happy. so we have to twist the truth, distort it, look at it thru rose tinted glasses. pretend we learned deep lessons from it about how life is. that we are stronger, better for it. but it isn’t always the case.

it’s just easier to tell a lie than face the truth in its unadulterated form sometimes. i’ve said it before: i obsess over my perception of the truth and the perception of others. it’s crazy how it never quite matches up, even among people with similar characteristics and values. it’s like we all have the same inkblot of a life, but we all arrive at a different idea of what it all means.

i feel bad about the bridges i’ve burned with the sheer force of my ugly personality. friends who got sick of my pessimist outlook. some people would say, oh, if they were really friends they would have stuck around. but i’m not stupid. i know love like that ain’t unconditional, nor should it be. i know sometimes it’s small things, but they add up, and it’s like the voice that took down the mountain of snow. and i’m left smothered in the cold, all by myself. lol.

all i know is, deep down i’m a contrarian who likes to cause trouble for myself. my first-grade report card literally said ‘sarah does not work well by herself or with others’. mrs. johnson really didn’t like me. i almost tell that story with pride now. like, yeah, i’m a real baddie. anybody with eyes can see that i don’t care.

 

 

lonely, as a satellite

i feel terrible, i am terrible. my personal slogan. so healthy. yeah.

be strong.  it will be a false strength.

be a fighter. im so tired of fighting this.

be a survivor. but i don’t want to survive this.

suicidal ideation is the worst.

naw really tho, today is an okay day. i don’t feel as bad as i could. my mom decided to stay in minnesota overnight, which only makes sense i suppose. i’m almost done with the god of small things, reading at the pace the professor assigns, so, slowly.

I just did my homework, which was to take a passage from the book and take it apart to see what it actually means. I did well, talked forever about the roles of women in traditional indian society.  i chose this excerpt (I wanna keep it because I really like this passage and my own stupid, convoluted interpretation of it), about ammu (TL;DR, AMMU IS REALLY SHIVERING AT THE THOUGHT OF HER COMPLICIT IMPRISONMENT IN SOCIETY, LOL:

“Ammu shivered. With that cold feeling on a hot afternoon that Life had been Lived. That her cup was full of dust. That the air, the sky, the trees, the sun, the rain, the light and the darkness were all slowly turning to sand. That sand would fill her nostrils, her lungs, her mouth. Would pull her down, leaving on the surface a spinning swirl like crabs leave when they burrow downwards on a beach”(Roy 212).

Here Ammu had just imagined her reflection in the mirror as one of an old woman.

In Indian society at that time (and even today in many cases), women basically had only a couple of things to do in their lives to call them lived and done. Marry, and raise children (preferably boys, as girls need a dowry). Some more wealthy families, like Ammu’s, could afford to educate their daughters to make them more desirable/give them more opportunities for marriage. Or in the case of Baby Kochamma, because her life had run its course, and she was considered too old to marry, so she may as well be educated. Divorce, as we’ve seen in this book, is frowned upon. So Ammu, in a sense, had lived her life already, and more than that, in a way, she failed to live it to her society’s standard.

Roy uses the phrase “cold feeling on a hot afternoon”, I think, to show how this feeling surprised Ammu, the cold from the heat. Cold feelings are not often portrayed as pleasant ones, so I’m making an assumption here when I say that this one wasn’t pleasant for Ammu. When it continues with “that Life had been Lived”, the capitalized “Life” and “Lived” makes it seem like an established, unquestionable thing. Ammu’s “Life” as established by her society had been “Lived.” This is a sad, inescapable thought to me, and, again, I assume, to Ammu herself. In other portions of the book, it seems she tries to buck away from this thought, this label, these expectations that her family and greater culture have placed on her.

The next sentence, “That her cup was full of dust” reminds me of the Biblical “my cup runneth over”, which means that one has everything they could ever want, and then some. But for her to have the thought that her “cup was full of dust”,  is more depressing, as it suggests she has nothing that she wants, or that she doesn’t have a use for wants anymore (as, to me, dust represents something that hasn’t been thought about or touched for a long time).

Next, “the air, the sky, the trees, the sun, the rain, the light and the darkness were all slowly turning to sand.” Here Ammu imagines everything that makes the physical world what it is, turning to sand. But slowly. Perhaps over the course of her life? As if even as she gets closer to death, everything around her turns to sand and loses itself too?

The next part ties into that: “That sand would fill her nostrils, her lungs, her mouth. Would pull her down, leaving on the surface a spinning swirl like crabs leave when they burrow downwards on a beach.” Here the sand “fills her nostrils, her lungs, her mouth”, so she can’t breathe or speak freely. And then it swallows her, this quick-sand that I think reflects societal expectations when it comes to women, how they are supposed to live their lives, and what aging means to them. Is she suggesting dying? I don’t really know. The last part about the final “spinning swirl like crabs leave when they burrow downwards on a beach” makes me feel like Ammu feels as though she is a complicit and willing participant in this act of being swallowed by the sand, in a way. She is that crab, not even really being swallowed by sand, but burrowing into it, deeper and deeper as time goes on. “Slowly”, she thought about the sand transforming the earth.

Although there is a helplessness to her thoughts, I believe Ammu is shivering at the “cold feeling” idea of being complicit in her fetter to society, as is Roy, the author, through her.

THE END ←I didn’t write that on the actual assignment.

as you can see, I went kind of overboard with the five paragraphs, but I like writing about writing. I LOVE THE SOUND OF MY OWN LITERARY VOICE

 

once i thought being lost was only a part of being young, but the old man in the bed next to your cot was screaming louder than anyone

i hate when i get to know someone and then wish i hadn’t. people can be so ugly on the inside.

why is it when literal nazis march, people just shrug and spout the tired old “freedom of speech”, but when someone kneels during some stupid dinosaur of a song, people get almost apoplectic with rage. a song at a football game has nothing to do with veterans. the whole act has nothing to do with veterans. i know many americans have such a hard-on for the military that they just have to relate everything under the sun back to glorious War™ and its various members, but come on, be real. i come from a long line of military folks, and i’m not so vain that i equate a simple, unobtrusive form of protest against the institutional racism faced by people of color, with an attack against my family. i’m not as selfish, self-centered or self-involved as that, at least.

i think its because the white right-wingers secretly (or not-so-secretly) relate more to the struggles (lol struggle: kampf, get it?) of nazis than they do african-americans.

also, have you noticed that when you say something simple like “black lives matter”, and don’t say anything about white people, right-wingers are up in arms, angry that people have the audacity to disclude them in that, so they quickly retort, in a nasally, irritating voice, i presume, that,  “ahem, all lives matter.” 

i, too, am uncomfortable when we are not about me.

even when segregation was abolished in the dear old hospitable south, it was basically a forced enterprise. our dear nether-neighbors equated mixing of the races to communism. basically, tho, anything that they didn’t like was communism. lol, like walt disney, with the writer’s strike. he said there was a communist conspiracy out to get him. he wasn’t unfair, communism was unfair. not that i’m a fan of communism, don’t get me wrong. i’m not for any sort of hard-line political ideology.

i remember hearing about a catholic school that desegregated in the south, and basically they threatened the people with excommunication if they did not integrate. hilarious. people care more about the afterlife than they do life.

oh yeah, and i’m not going to be a dictator for life anymore, i’m going to be a theological dictator. basically, if i don’t like you, you can no longer reside in paradise, i.e. my presence, so you are deported to hell, also called europe. lolololol. no. i think it’s the other way around.

i am the satan in this whole setup, anyway.

my mom said that one of her patients at the VA had some kind of weird flashback, and he told her to “take the clothes of the dead and redistribute them among the living.” like what kind of war was he fighting in? it was at the same time sad, funny, and disturbing. so, life as usual.