I think in that one dream Shannon was in it. and I get the feeling John was in it. And someone I seemed to be dating but I don't know who. Ah well, to be honest I can't really seem to remember that dream. Probably because Isis interrupted it with a piercing scream from the room below. She sometimes does that when she doesn't get her way. Personally, I am not sad to see her go this weekend because she has been a bit of a brat lately. Except that tongue thing she does which is my favorite thing she's ever done in her whole short life... But otherwise she hits my face a lot and she refuses to walk and she has a small temper when she doesn't get her way. I find that things change quickly though. She goes through small phases. Extended moods, if you will. So perhaps she will come home from Anthony's with a different attitude.

In any case, when I went back to sleep I had another dream. Now it was John and Lyla at my house but at the beginning neither were very much like themselves. It was almost as if Dan and Jen came to visit. Except I know it wasn't them. But I didn't know John's girlfriend, I'd only just met her. She did not even look like Lyla. In a fair and unbiased observation I thought she was pretty nice. It seems, they had only gotten back together in a sexual way and John resented her for that so he showed her he didn't like it and I think they agreed to break up that evening.

This was at my house but truthfully it seemed more like a dorm. John was hanging out in what is my mom's room. I suppose we had been hanging out. I don't really remember the beginning, sometimes that happens. So after they cordially broke up Lyla and I chatted. And she seemed to be Lyla at that point. She asked if Jaymie and her family had moved back to Texas and I said I didn't know. And I wanted to ask how college was going with Nicole because I was trying to be polite and conversational. Even though I was aware that she was probably jealous of me since she'd been jealous of me just for talking to him and now she was breaking up with him and leaving him at my house.

And she said something about sexual experiences in passing and I said when have I ever had a good sexual experience. I started to say zero but then realized I'd had one and then realized that that time I had sex in front of Lyla and Joe was an interesting experience. Except in the dream, that experience was double, Joe and Lyla were having sex too. We used to actually talk about that, jokingly I suppose. About having sex at the same time in the same room.

Anyway, John seemed a little more sophisticated in the dream. And this guy came to talk to Lyla. Like I said, people in and out. When he left John came out and complained that she had never listened to his podcasts. Interestingly enough I've never heard anybody but my Western Civilization teacher speak of podcasts. But I think he was trying to accuse her of giving this new guy something she wouldn't give him. Like it was unfair. And he started explaining about a time when they'd gone out together and eaten oysters. I think I woke up after that. I can see that beginning in my head but I can't remember what John and I were talking about....

But I'm trying not to think about John. It occurs to me that this false alarm is deja vu. Except I'm not involved. You know what I mean? He's already had three false alarms with her only at that point, they were because he was planning to date me. This time his break up didn't involve me and yet, I still feel this false break up. I'm mad. That this has happened again. I'm mad that he kept saying he thought they were going to break up and I didn't take the bait until the very end when he finally said they'd broken up and then I finally believed him. And then before I know it they're back to square one and I fell for it again! I'm angry that things really don't change. I'm relieved that my heart wasn't involved this time but I'm angry that my mind can still witness this and still be reminded of the lies given at the expense of my heart, previously. And how John is still that same person. Doing the same things.

I want to get away from him. He's not talking to me because I told him I didn't want to hang out with him this weekend. And I could not think of a good reason in the least for breaking the plans. So he took offense. He hasn't said much to me since. But I want him to talk to me. And that's why I need to get away. If I get to see his mood updates about how he loves Lyla which always seems to me to be retaliation for the way I treat him... or his guilt about flirting behind Lyla's back. Well, I just get ugly reminders. But I can't take him off my myspace. We've gone back and forth doing this too many times. and I don't want to make a public statement to him. I just want to silently slip away.

It's making reading look more appealing than it has been. That and I won ten spider solitaire games and then ACCIDENTALLY pressed the wrong button and screwed up my statistics so it had one loss and I couldn't have that so I had to reset the statistics. So I lost the 15 wins of easiest level, 15 wins of second easiest level and ten wins of hardest level. And the setback has made me lost some of my motivation.

I think I'm reading to dig into some books...

I had two crazy dreams but at this point they seem kind of meshed together. I remember some distinct things about the first one. There was someone abusive. Abusive is an understatement. He was scary. The type of person who is at the head of a gang. Someone who randomly takes people's lives.

That's pretty much what he did. I don't remember who he killed. I think he was a brother of a friend. But the point was, I crossed him. I can't remember how, I think I stuck up for the people he killed or something like that. I defied him in some way. And I was deathly afraid he was going to kill me for it. He left for a while and I think I cleaned my room. And I knew when he came back he'd shoot me or something. But he came back and he was normal, he didn't lose his temper. And then he actually thanked me. I can't remember the exact dialogue but basically it was one of those "I like your style". Sometimes dangerous people don't find other powerful people as threatening. At least in movies. They say things like, "I like your style". And he sort of said that. For some reason he liked that I stood up to him. And I was amazed.

I think I woke up early in the morning and I nearly wrote this down in the blog, while it was fresh. But then I went back to sleep. And I can't even remember the plot to the second dream. There seem to be lots of plots. At one point I was hanging out with someone and I remember getting dressed. Right before I woke up I was studying for a math exam. That seems to be a reoccurring horror. And there was something about Isis. I seemed to bring her to class or something. Anyway, I was studying with two friends from class. But before that I think I hung out with them at a carnival. And yet, one of them had a crush on this distinguished older guy. I don't remember why but I told her that he was a bad person. I knew something about him. I can't remember what. I think she resented me instead of believed me.

And before that I was in the library with Amelia. The librarians were setting up a new system where you can scan and check out books yourself. That's an example of how computers have taken over a person's job. Who needs a librarian? Just to shelve books, eh? And one of the librarians accused Amelia or blamed her of something that she'd done last year at the carnival. It was a mistake she made but I can't quite remember it. I can't quite remember a lot of the details. I don't even remember why I thought the second dream was weird. Especially because I woke up thinking that. When did I come up with that thought, while I was dreaming? Am I forgetting the second dream and this last dream was the third? I DON'T REMEMBER.

Oh well.

I guess there's no point in going back to sleep. I woke up at eight and went to play with Isis for a few minutes and now my mind has been activated. I'm thinking about that ticket I was given last night, and what I'm going to say to the judge. Granted, the ticket Amelia got four months ago and pleaded not guilty to is only going to the judge this week. So I may not be able to appear for a few months, I hope I can remember all the facts by that time!

I'm also thinking about John. I have doubts that I want to continue friendship with him. I nearly wrote a journal entry about it last night but then I allowed my feelings to take a step into the future and I realized that I was probably just emotional and vengeful, which probably wouldn't last so even if I said I didn't want to be friends with him, nothing would have come of it.

But still, the thing is, when he told me that Lyla and him had broken up I was eager to move past that. It's been really bothersome to be friends with him while he's with her. She doesn't want him talking to me. I told him specifically Not to put me in his top friends because she would see me there and get upset and truth be told, he'll tell me and I personally don't want to hear about it.

I feel like we were heading towards a better future, moving past this love triangle. Granted, I was not feeling very ambitious or enthusiastic about dating him. I didn't think I wanted to although I was giving it consideration. And I wasn't even sure if I wanted to kiss him or whatever. Now I just feel like we're working backwards though. There is no better future if he's still with her. It's just the same old bullshit that was already old a couple months ago. Imagine how happy I am that it's going to continue.

I know I don't love him. And I couldn't care less about how he feels about me. It fucks with my self-esteem when boys with girlfriends tell me that they have feelings for me. It honestly does. I don't like to decipher his feelings. When you start dating someone new, the best thing you can do is fucking IGNORE the fact that they've ever been with or loved someone besides yourself. Because insecurity and consequently, comparisons are not rewarding relationship tools.

We were going to watch Monk, but at the time that we made the playdate, I thought he was single. And I was relaxed about the idea. If something did happen, it wouldn't be a big deal. I wouldn't be a mistress, and he wouldn't have to deal with cheating on Lyla. If nothing happened, it wouldn't be a big deal. because there wouldn't be anyone around to overreact and make a big deal out of our hanging out together.

And honestly, I'd just like to move slow. I want to take my time with my friendship with John. I don't want to make rash, emotional decisions about how I feel about him. I just want to see how it goes. And apparently these immortal relationships can only be thwarted, IF they even can be thwarted by any such thing, by rash, emotional decisions. I don't honestly believe that Dan and John want me more than their girlfriends.

It's sometimes easy to pretend that what they feel about me is more important than what they feel for their girlfriends because I only hear the negative things and I don't experience how they feel about them. But it's proven to be stronger than how they feel about me. And I have to stop flattering myself with their attraction to me because it has proven to have no validity.

I'm tired of being receptive to either of them. Truth be told, they've lost my trust. I don't see a future with either of them. They have showed themselves to be very dishonest and very emotionally insecure. And they've also proved that they don't easily let go of their girlfriends. I can't imagine dating either of them, knowing that they have such strong feelings for someone else. It would make me unhappy.

And what else makes me unhappy is the idea that both of them are so willing to cheat on their girlfriends. I won't pretend that I'm so special that I'm the exception to their loyalty. It's not me that gave them the idea to cheat. Dan cheated on Jen with Ruth. And John has been mixed up in cheating relationships for a long time. Neither of them respect the idea of loyalty. Maybe being the mistress helps you see the worst of things. I get to see the bitter truth that they might hide in front of their girlfriends.

I need to move on. I don't want the life I would have if I were dating either of them. I think, perhaps, I was idealistic enough to pursue them both. But I got a rude awakening in both cases. I was just the mistress. And now I realize that being their girlfriend wouldn't be any better than not having them at all. I don't let Dan go, even though it would be easy because he's so far away... because I love him. I don't want to be with him, but I still care about him deeply. And I don't let John go even though I don't love him, because he's available to me physically. And the allure of having real contact with someone makes me hesitate to write him off.

I want be seen, heard, touched, appreciated. Not just sexually, but physically. I guess sometimes you wake up and you're forced to evaluate yourself, and wonder if you're good enough for the world. But when you wake up next to someone else whose presence reminds you that you're good enough for the world, it makes your job easier. I kind of long for someone to accept me, personally. And pride makes me want to actually have more than mere acceptance, I want flattery. I guess I find myself desirably both in personality and looks and I want to show off. I want to experience the effects of my charm.

These are the things that are making me want to hook up with John. I feel sexy at the thought of being around him. At the ability I have to be sexy in his presence. I can't really explain it any better than that.

If I had any other opportunity to be with someone I liked, I'd drop John and Dan like flies. Well, I wouldn't drop Dan like a fly because I care about him but I wouldn't play his games anymore and I would have less opportunity to deal with his ridiculousness because I would be busy with someone else.

I don't understand why things are stuck as they are.

Craziest dream, very scifi. I think it's too difficult to explain, really. The only normal parts were that I was thinking of being in love with this one guy, but near the end I decided I didn't want him. It kind of reminds me of John. Like I think I'm fascinated with him and then he does something so absurd I'm reminded that I don't know him at all and in fact I don't like him at all. That's what happened a couple months ago with John. But in the dream John was online. I was ignoring the guy, because he was like a friend of my sister's or something. And I went over to the computer because John had IMed me. Even the affection I had with that guy reminded me a little of what I had with John. Something about blind enthusiasm.

And I think it was Isis's birthday in the dream... maybe it was Christmas. Stephanie gave me a present though. It was a frog. And she put it in my hand. She had a few ponies. My Little Ponies. I had about 20 but I wanted more. I counted all the ones I had and went looking for the two that were missing. I ran across her ponies that she's brought and finally found my own. I freakin love ponies. I only have three in real life. :(

Last night when I was talking to John about some interesting things... in response he told me about his headache. And I was disappointed for a second. Because I like to think about different philosophical ideas and all he wanted to think about was his own pitiful state.

I always let people think I was self-centered because I thought there might be some truth in it, but there isn't really. I care about myself in great detail. I concentrate on myself a lot. I won't deny it. I think it's absolutely healthy. But 1. I don't force my personal information on anybody else. I'm generally private although not shy. Just private. And 2. I also philosophize about a vast amount of topics, including what my analyzations of myself symbolize about other people. I learn about humanity through learning about myself. What better way to understand anything than to experience it.

Not that I really need the defense. I try to understand humanity in a lot of different aspects. I really try to get to the root of why we are the way we are. But for the record.. Selfish, I may be, self-centered I wouldn't say.

Odd, when I talk to Dan all I want to talk about is me or us. I never tell him I don't want to talk about all the things he concentrates on but that's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking about me. And now when I'm talking to John I want to concentrate on philosophy.

It's not so surprising. It isn't clear-cut. I hate being pestered with personal questions but I like flattery. In some ways, I don't like being understood, but I like to preach and teach and lecture - sometimes even about myself. I guess I don't like to share the learning process. I don't like to open myself up and as a team, find out what's inside myself. Not necessarily because I'm afraid of what they'll find. Though maybe that's it a little. But I just don't like to share. Selfish, you know. And I like to be able to rely on myself.

People think too differently from each other. I'm so strong about my opinions. I'm not persuadable. I'm tolerant to other's opinions to a certain degree but I like to be in control of what I believe. And when I'm a team, I despise trying to agree. Not that we fight. But it's just so predictable that we have different opinions and I despise the idea that we should make something together - compromise... when I would prefer to just believe what I believe end of story.

That's a huge consideration in marriage. The idea that your households, your relationship and your family are all in joint consideration. It's absurd. To even imagine that you can both be happy? That's the dream. To have someone with so alike ideas that you'll just agree on everything.

That's why there is always going to be a dominant person and a subordinate. Whether it be husband/wife or wife/husband isn't really relevant. The best relationships are when one person is willing to allow his wants and needs to be pushed aside for the other person. Because if neither is willing? Compromise seems like a scarce idea. And it's silly, that anyone should have to live in a household based on decisions they don't like. I have known this all my life, speaking as someone who disagrees with the idea that she should be tormented into a lifestyle by her authority, her parents... Why would I ever get married and let that continue?

And GOD. What happens when they break up and they're fueled with hate? They use difference of opinions as weapons of revenge and resentment. They try to punish each other for their past love for each other. It's deadly. Divorce gets ugly.

I think about roommates and roommates have this sense of separate space. They often don't have the same rooms. And they have a dynamic of personal freedom. Opinions and decisions will clash but they are in essence an individual. When you're married, you're not an individual, you're a couple. And your decisions have to be made as a couple. There's always someone who bends and usually it's the one that always bends. It's probably rare that there are two dominant people who take turns.

so... I have to watch this episode of Boston Legal and play with Isis and I've lost my train of thought. My point was, that I'm too much of an individual to be a part of a couple. Although, I get little pleasure in making people give me whatever I want even if it's not what they want. So as a dominant person, I don't really enjoy to dominate anybody but myself. Like I said, I'd rather dictate my own space than bother with dictating another OR let them dictate me. I would really like to see how I react in various situations. I'm always curious, always trying to picture what I would do as I see scenes played out. I sometimes want to be in a relationship just to find out how I would handle it.

I've had a lot of vivid dreams lately. But I guess they don't strike me as special so I don't write them down and they're forgotten. But there have been three unique dreams. One was that I went out on a date with a guy from my English class. The one with the celtic tattoo. Yes, I would like to know him better. His name is Mike, because half the people in the world are named Mike.

I told John yesterday that him and I cannot talk about Mike anymore. He's such a thing of my past but everybody tries to make him a thing of my present. I don't want to know what his status is with his old friends from Coxsackie. I don't want to know how he feels about them. How they feel about him. I don't want to know about all the girls he sleeps with. Apparently, he brags that it's a lot. Whether that's true SHOULD NOT BE MY CONCERN. I don't care where he lives. Where he goes to school. Who he's hitting on. Where he works. What anybody thinks of him.

I hate thinking about him. I don't know how to think about him comfortably. I don't think there are very many leftover emotions for him but it's just been such a long ride that I don't really know how to have information about him and not let it effect me. So it simply makes me uncomfortable. And I said "ew". I hate it when girls say ew at an unew moment. Gah. That was typical. I didn't enjoy it. So John better not bring him up again. Although I find that I like to bring him up. Though there's a different. I like to bash my ex. But my ex is the guy I knew two years ago. NOT this guy who Mike has turned out to be. He's extraordinarily different. That's why it amazes everybody. So when I talk about him I'm talking about old news. Negative old news. I love it. It helps keep me sane to bash him every once in a while. NOT to hear how many damn girls he's slept with at one time!!

So anyway.. I wish I could be seen in that little plaid skirt I have. I just feel so blonde when I wear that skirt. I don't look blonde. I look sexy but not blonde sexy. I have a more sly sexiness than blondes. Personally, I've seen so many blondes I'm immune to them. They kind of remind me of barbies. Barbies have great bodies but am I really interested in touching them? No, I'm not. And neither am I interested in touching blondes. Most of them. Typically. There's just something boring about a typical blonde. Now put black hair on her and I'm in.

Anyway, my analysis of blondes isn't really the point. The point was a bit stupid so I won't delve into it deeper. Onto the next dream, eh?

So then I had a dream I was scuba diving in the Hudson. It was a more involved dream. School, that green saturn, the motorcycle, the boat ride. The Hudson river was really detailed. I can't now remember all the things I saw - even in the dream I told myself that when I got home I wouldn't be able to remember all the things that I'd seen. It was random objects and the like. It was pretty interesting to imagine what's down there. I was really afraid to see a dead body. And there were the compasses on the side. It really ended up looking like a swimming pool of river water. I was a little frightened to jump in at first but I got over it. I wasn't alone and I felt protected when the water didn't cut off my breath and force me to close my eyes, nor did I even feel the wetness.

Now I just woke up from a dream where I married James. HA. It wasn't even like the future. It was like about a week ago. You know? It was this status we have. We didn't seem to be romantically involved but we decided to get married and we did and then after we stopped being friends just like we have been lately. So we didn't even consummate our marriage or really talk anymore. We didn't live together. It was sort of like a regretful Las Vegas marriage.

I don't usually have dreams of marriage. Proposals yes but not actually going through with it.
I was telling John last night about how I dislike the idea of marriage for various reasons. I guess it just took form as a symbol for my psyche. James. Ha. James is so emotionless. That's probably why I chose him. And I'm trying so hard to fight my emotions. I guess that's what happens when you take emotions from marriage.

In any case I REALLY need to wash my hair. Dire situation. And in a few hours ISIS WILL BE BACK. Although I'll be heading off to school at the exact moment she returned. And she'll smell like cigarette smoke. :( See why marriage stinks? If Amelia had had a way to reproduce by herself, she could have had Isis all on her own and she wouldn't have to share her with her stinky, abusive husband. GAH. And he could have his own babies with his own reproductive organs. And then he wouldn't have to force his horrible behavior on anybody else.

John and Lyla broke up last night. Not because of me granted. I think they had just been having problems for a long time and they were ready to stop. Now I'm not walking straight into mistressing. I'm excited. I'm not really the friends with benefit type either but considering how many of my friends I've actually made out with, I guess that would be a lie. I have qualms about having sex with anybody, especially someone I'm not romantically involved in and therefore don't implicitly trust. So it would be stupid to imagine that I could just sleep with whoever came through my door. I probably would have had sex with James though. Even without romance. Who knows... It's hard to say if I would feel comfortable in the moment. It all comes down to that. But I knew James would rather die than make a move. Maybe he'll get married to me though... and then we won't need an excuse to have sex. I'll think about asking him.

In the meantime, I don't have to worry that if John and I do get physical I'm not degrading myself by allowing him to degrade me by dating someone else and using me on the side. I don't want to date him. I want to get married to James, afterall. :p But who knows what will happen.

Well, I just did not feel like reading this thanksgiving break. I honestly don't believe I've read a single page. I was due to read six hours a day to meet my goal. Humph. I think my tight schedule took all the fun out of it. And part of it was that because I expected my goal to be met, I had already taken the hypothetical pleasure in meeting that goal in my mind. Do you know what I mean? The greatest pleasure comes from unexpectedness. Like when you know you're good at sculpting but not painting. So when you make a great sculpture it's not always as rewarding because you've expected it. But when you do a fabulous painting you feel more pleasure from it.

That's not always the case but it was this time. I like to sit down and by the end of the day have surpassed my expectations. Originally, that's what I meant to do. I first started with five or six books to be read and then I kept adding to the list and ended up with like 13 books and if I could get that many done it would have made me feel rewarded because it was so many. But once I'd gotten it down to the exact science, I was less interested.

But it was also that I had so many other things to do. I was determined to spend time with Isis although I really didn't spend very much time with her at all. I also had to watch Remington Steele, Monk and Boston Legal. I'm not done with Boston Legal so even though I'm pretty much in the mood to sit down and read, for the first time in the past six days... I can't spend too much time reading because I have eight hours more of Boston Legal and it's due tomorrow. Plus I talked on the phone a lot. I can't remember who interrupted it first. I was reading Interview With the Vampire. That must have been Monday. Somebody called me and I put my book down to talk to them and I haven't picked it back up again.

I've also really been into Spider Solitaire lately. I'm trying to get good at four suits. I'm good at the other difficulty levels but not this one. I can't seem to win. I'm so terrible and it bothers me. I know I could be better. So I've been playing around the clock. I've not gotten any better so far. To be honest, I won the first time I played. I erased my statistics and was determined to win every single game so I won ten of the one suit, ten of two suits.. to warm myself up. And then I went to four suits. And I won the first game. And I haven't won since. I've actually been cheating though. After trying to win a particular game for an hour or something I finally quit. I use my task manager to force quit and it won't put the losing statistic up. I found that out because I had a game up and Isis accidentally rebooted my computer and I checked the statistic and it wasn't there so I realized that if it was force quited as opposed to being closed... it would make a difference. But I have lost a lot of games. It doesn't seem to be any use.

In any case, I can multi task and do that while I watch TV, but not while I read a book. I was actually playing solitaire earlier in the week and I wanted to keep doing it so I put on Tv just so that I wouldn't be wasting my time, since I knew I had a bunch of stuff to watch. I guess I haven't kicked the duo.

Sometimes I'm disappointed in my manner of doing things. But there's so little time. And I have so much gluttony. So I'm essentially forced.

Sometimes I dislike that I lack publicity. I sometimes feel like I'm everybody's dirty little secret.

Well this began as a letter to Dan. Cause when we got off the phone I felt like I hadn't said all I needed to say so I opened up a myspace message to finish and found that I had way more to say than I thought. Since it was so detailed and reflective I figured I might as well put it in here and he can read it here. But it's directed to him at least until the end... so all the "yous" are meant to be Dan:


I only told you that I have feelings for John because I didn't want to get into it too deep, and then have a big explanation to give you. I don't want to make out with him all day and then have to surprise you with the news after the fact, and I neither want to hide it from you, although I was seriously considering the idea. But in the spirit of straightforwardness I decided to tell you. Because who knows what the future holds, or if anything will even come of this.

In any case, to get involved with John is a weakness on my part. I'm tired of appreciating or in other words, falling in love with guys.. who can't be bothered with me. I mean, I'm tired of appreciating guys and not being able to pursue it. I like being in love. I like to fawn over boyfriends and be touchy-feely and really intimate. I like to have a routine with someone. And I keep having that dangled in front of me but just out of my reach. With you, with John, with James.

But the one thing John gave me is our physical exploits. And they were comforting and fun. And honestly, the only thing I have in my reach. It's like saying on my part, I'll take what I can get.

I think that's currently all I see in my future. I don't think I'll pursue a romantic relationship with John, I don't know if I could even love him and I don't know when he'll be ready to let Lyla go. But I feel like I can't keep myself from getting physically intimate with him because I want to be intimate with someone in general so badly, and John is the only guy I'm comfortable with who is willing to give me that physical sense of intimacy. I definitely couldn't have sex with him but like I said, I fear a weakness on my part. A sense of surrender to my emotional needs and whatever satisfies them.

If I could have a sensible, reliable, intimate relationship with someone I cared for I'd probably do it. But for some reason that doesn't seem to be in my cards and I guess I am lonely. I wonder if it's hypocritical of me to say this after my explanation of why I wouldn't cheat on my boyfriend- settling for less isn't my style. But if I didn't settle for less I wouldn't have been in love with you for the past ten months.

Well, in any case... if you had asked me how I felt three days ago I would have laughed at both you and John.. because you both had me and gave me up and thus lost your chance to be with me and I was content to keep my distance from both of you. And now I find my emotional body being drawn to both of you at the same time. And yet, maybe I am asking to be the mistress in both cases. Because you both are already otherwise engaged.

I guess I just don't have the strength to push you both out of my life- friendship-wise. I don't want to be alone. I think one thing that makes the formation of a mistress come about easily is that it's so easy to find yourself in a reality with someone... a little bubble. Both of you talk to me individually on the phone or online with no one around to tell me that my reality is false. So when you flatter me I don't tell myself, "well he thinks I'm beautiful but he's got a girlfriend". There's no reason to remind myself of such things.

And that just carries on.. taking things with harmless baby steps until suddenly I realize that my whole reality is fabricated because the true reality is that I don't have any sort of relationship with either of you.

I haven't really come to that realization yet. I'm still living in the now, with each of you. And the now is just simple - I talk to each of you, I enjoy each of your personalities, both of you seem to enjoy me. At this point I'd be daft to make any plans for the future with either of you. I probably don't have a future with either of you. But I enjoy these harmless baby steps, even if they're leading me into dangerous territory.

You guys keep me company and you flatter me.. I like getting use out of my cell phone and my aim. I feel empty when I don't have contact with people. When no one touches my life.

But that's the bigger picture. Or maybe it's the smaller picture. That's the motivation behind the picture. It makes it sound impersonal to you and John. Like I don't care about either of you, like these roles have already been created and you're just filling the blank spot. Maybe that's how it is with everybody, even if they don't want to admit it.

I think I just needed to gain some alternative perspective on what I've got going on. You telling me that I enjoyed being a mistress kind of made me reflect on the fact that I do seem to be walking directly into this situation without a care in the world. Why am I heading there if it's not where I want to go? In my reasoning, as long as I can keep control of the situation- no harm can come of it. Maybe I'm wrong to think that...

But I have made some excellent productive decisions, you can't deny me that. Aside from my confession the day before yesterday... I'd only said I love you to you like once or twice and I hardly ever cyber kiss you on the lips. I always kiss you on the cheek. And I'm a little cuddly but at least I've never returned your sexual advances. And that was my intention. It's been like that the past month.

And then I started getting attached to both of you again and now my intentions seem to have changed. And you're acting like we're back to square one. Not to blame you. But now that I think about it, your behavior is slightly strange since within this past month, today (and that confession the other night) are practically the first time we've ever directly talked about you and I in reference to romantic involvement.

Even with our texts that said physical things, on my part, they were always a bit mechanical. Like they didn't have a lot of deep meaning behind them. They didn't symbolize us being as deeply emotionally involved as we were a few months ago. I haven't thought of us that way. They were just simple actions of affection, not heavy with intimacy or feeling.

I wonder how long that could have been carried on for. I guess that's what John symbolizes with his reappearance in my life. I can't flirt harmlessly with him. Last time I did that he fingered me and we got a fraction away from dating. Him and I, and especially him, are both too intense and dramatic to be harmless. At this point I'm kind of just following his lead because I don't know what he's going to make of this situation... And being as dramatic and intense as I am, it's almost like I'm giddy to have a partner in crime. It excites me that he could be someone to share my guilty act with. Because I know it's wrong to delve into my emotions that way. But it's my -what's that term??... guilty pleasure. Emotions are my guilty pleasure. My weakness.

That's why I expect no leniency on the situation. I don't expect to be handed such an easy way to pursue my guilty pleasure with no repercussions. There certainly were repercussions last time.

If only John were as insane as he was last time. Right now he's really smart and sensible and funny and I'm wondering when his transformation is going to take place- into that confused, dramatic, intense, loco person that he was when we last parted. I can't deny him at the moment. I can't deny this person he's showing me. I like it. I want more of it.

It's weird. I've hated him so much these past couple of months. I didn't miss him in the least because I disliked him so much. And now I understand why I ever gave him a chance in the first place. He was probably just as charming now as he was before. Damnet. It didn't last long last time. It probably won't last long this time. I can't be sure what sets him off though.

I don't know what his trigger is. I guess it's his insecurity with his life. His life is so unstable and out of his control and perhaps I threaten his safety zone way too much. I am pretty demanding and I don't let emotions become valid excuses for not getting things done. So maybe if I don't ask anything of him he won't get stressed over our friendship. I can do that...

I think the problem with these situations I put myself in is that I'm never quite satisfied. All those months being with Dan, I was looking forward to being with him. That was my intended goal. If I become friends with John expecting something nothing good can come of it. It's like I'm waiting for something to happen. But I'm not sure what form it will take. I feel like him and I are treading on thin ice though.

I've decided to shake off my love for Dan. When I take my shower today it's going to wash off of me. Cause I've been down that road and it's torturous. It teases my mind and my sex drive. It takes away my ability to function. It makes everything else pale in comparison. It's awful. Most people will admit that they like to feel pain as well as pleasure. The torture of being in love with him is almost worth it. Just to feel that way. To feel my emotions so charged and exhilarated.

It was worth it. For the months in the spring and summer when I entertained the emotions. But then I moved on and it has been slightly less emotional and yet still very pleasing. I like being able to function. I like being unattached to particular people. I like that Dan hasn't really turned me on in months. And I like that when I get off the phone with him, I'm okay with it. I don't mind when we don't talk for a day or two. I like the company but I don't need him.

I don't miss the insomnia. I don't miss the endless time-consuming feelings I had for him. And you know what else? I don't entirely trust him. He makes a lot of bad decisions. He's evasive. And he's a suck up. :) I don't want to decipher his words and actions and try to make sense of it all. I don't want to be attached to justifications that make him as good as I want him to be.

There was such a combination last night that revived my feelings for him. Intensely. And if I had my guess, as to why it happened, I'd say that it was a test for me. To see if I was still willing to indulge my emotions. Still willing to give them fuel through my energy. I don't have the will to give my emotions all my energy anymore. No matter how tempting they are.

I'm so vain sometimes.

I'm almost convinced I don't want to read today. I read ten hours yesterday. I'm the type of person who gets overwhelmed if there's no end in sight. When something is particularly long I make my goal the half way point. Or I make my goal to chapter 30. Or I make my goal to the one hundredth page and then the 200th page. I take it step my step. I cannot take a pile of books, lock myself in a room and just let go. It doesn't give me enjoyment. It makes me anxious. I need to have an end in sight. I'm goal oriented. I'm always anxious for the book to be over because I need to have something accomplished. It motivates me.

So I get really gluttonous. Greedy for accomplishment. I love to count. And organize. And make lists.

So what I have is, a list of the hours it will take me to read the 12 books that are on my list for Thanksgiving vacation. I usually have a good idea of how long it will take me to read a book based on the subject matter, the page length and font and the amount of pages. Sometimes I read a little slower than I predict. Sometimes I read a little faster than I predict. But goals are easily regained. There's no sense in mourning the loss of such a goal. I just make another one and change it accordingly. I never care if I don't make it. At least the small goals. I love finishing the whole book.

I guess I am greedy for the accomplishment. That's why I have so many books on my reading list. And that's why I've tallied it up and it's about six hours a day for the next eight days. That's how much reading I have to do.

I almost feel like my head is swimming with words. So much reading. So much absorption. I'm fairly sure I'm not doing myself any good with my gluttony. But when I think of the books that are sitting over there unread, and what they will look like to me when I glance down and know that they're read. The book will symbolize accomplishment and that energy will look good as I glance down at the book read.

See now that's a good book, Mary Higgins Clark let her character have a happy ending, she was like literally seconds away from death and even when they got her back and did the operation it could have threated for her to not have kids but HA. She's alright. She's in love. And she can have kids. I love it. I freakin hate it when authors kill off the characters. Ironically, I just read a novella by Mary Higgins Clark a couple days ago and the heroine died in the end.

If I had to say what made her not kill off this character I would say it's the suspense. From the beginning we knew, even though the characters didn't know, who the bad guy was. And we watched as step by step he made all these counterproductive moved on the characters. And I really thought she was going to let Katie die but there was so much suspense because we saw him make efforts to kill her and nobody the wiser to save her so it was a turnaround to have her live.

I think sometimes authors throw in surprising deaths to make a twist to keep things entertaining, not predictable and boring. Personally, it's a horrible entertainment and it makes me depressed. I will take the fairy tale ending in every single damn book I read and never good bored. I'm an optimist.

Anyway, my point in mentioning it was to sort of silently compliment Mary Higgins Clark for her suspenseful way of keeping the book entertaining but not throwing in a horrible ending. I mean, sure, she killed three other people on the way but they were not the heroine and considering her occupation, deaths were the whole point in getting her involved in the story. So I can stand to lose a few. :)

So, Tom called and asked me to hang out with him tonight. But he's the party type. He likes to drink and smoke weed and the like. And I don't. So he called and invited me but I told him I'd rather spend the evening reading. It was a little curt of me but that's the way I am I guess. But then he called back a half an hour later and tried to convince me that I didn't really want to read and yet I insisted. I made my normal excuses, I don't party, I don't want to shower and get dressed and I'd rather read. He said he's come over no matter what so I said then I'd avoid him by going to Walmart... but I was sort of joking. I finally convinced him I wouldn't come by telling him how much I despise the smell of cigarette smoke and I hate hanging out with someone only to come home to wash my damn clothes. So he may have taken offense to that and let me be. I also refused to hang out with him tomorrow to celebrate his birthday. I'm mean.

So I'm starting to talk to John again. He's umm normal. Normal, like the way he was in the beginning when we began talking. Not as ridiculous and dramatic. Maybe it'll come back. Maybe this will continue. I enjoy talking to him when it's like this. So we talked online early this morning since we were both up very early and he called me a little while ago.

The only thing that bothers me is he mentioned that Lyla is pissed at him because of me. Again. Wonderful. Deja vu. A week ago he stole my away message. And put it up as his own. So apparently Lyla was over there and she saw it and even though she's not on my list she may have seen that I had the same away message. In any case she asked him if he talked to me and he said that he had begun to again. So she's making a big deal out of it again. She wrote a myspace blog entry about it or some such thing.

I don't really want to get involved in that drama again. If she can't keep her boyfriend it's not my problem. I hate her attempts to make me the threat.

[06:15] IAMSpartacus117: I've just been thinking about rape a lot lately. It's been a glaring issue...everywhere I turn there's someone on a movie I'm watching or a tv show that's being raped. and the problem is, when it's a movie they're pretty graphic about it and I'm tired of seeing all of these women in such emotional pain. I saw a movie on the sex trade the other day... where they kidnap like 9-15-20 yr old girls and then sell them to people for sex.
[06:15] IAMSpartacus117: it's pretty sick.


[06:22] IAMSpartacus117: I forgot about molestation.
[06:22] IAMSpartacus117: I'm been concentrating so hard on rape and men don't often get raped, but boys often get molested. often by men though...

And I'm glad he reminded me of molestation. Because although men are still quite often the rapists and molesters... boys can also be victims to that. And how could I have ignored that? In one of the tv shows that I was watching three of the boys were also molested. In fact, the boy that raped Veronica is the boy who was molested.

I guess I just 1, feel less sympathy because rape has a different dynamic than molestation, namely, a violent dynamic. If I'm not mistaken, which is also why I don't think about molestation, as I said, movies have been painting me a very vivid picture of rape and I've never seen a movie showing molestation, in the act. And emotionally, I think it's sick. Because it's often a parent or someone that you trust. They just kind of worm their way into a situation where they can abuse your trust and innocence.

Not to belittle what boys or little girls go through, but to be so fully defiled and used and often murdered afterwards - as with rape, is slightly worse. And to be so fully aware, so violently aware that you're being abused. I can't imagine ever being able to come back to sex with anybody afterwards. I used to think about it and tell myself that I wouldn't let it happen to me, I wouldn't keep myself from sex after an incident like rape. But lately, I haven't even been raped and I'm willing to give up sex over it. Like I said, sex is such a man's game. And rape is such a man's game, no question about it. The two just have to the most horrid similarities.

To ever have sex again would be a traumatizing experience in itself. But even so, I think the hardest part is the disassociation. Of your body. In the act. I'm thinking of how I would cope with the situation as it was happening. If struggling wasn't getting me anywhere. I would want to dissociate myself from my body. I think about it and it's like, during a rape, the mind is safe, it's not being used and defiled, even if your will is being abused. But the body is just so large and we're just so connected to it, like I said about John and the fact that the pressure he put on all of my body parts was stimulating because I could feel him all over... I don't really want to associate that experience with a rape experience but I imagine it's really hard to want to badly to crawl in a howl and hide and not be able to let go of your body. Until they murder you, perhaps....

I don't know. I have to stop thinking about it. I've already begun to numb myself to the horror of it. After probably seeing ten actresses this week, faking rape. I had a lot of pains in my lower legs and feet yesterday. It was going on for a few hours. And I finally realized that it was energy, sort of circulating. And I identified it as the energy from the two types of people involved in rape. The perpetrator, as my mom calls them... and the victims. I was really looking for a piece of mind. Some way I could fight or rationalize the existence of rape. And nothing was really helping. But carrying the energy kind of gave me a piece of mind.

I was thinking last night that if I have a boyfriend in the future I'll get him back through sex. I'll make sex a woman's game and it'll serve him right. But I can't really do that. I can't punish one single guy for such a large scope of wrong. You know what I mean? It wouldn't do any justice to the wider scope of things. It would do justice if I didn't allow myself to become one of those women who are bored with sex but still let their husbands carry on. If I do have sex it's going to be a two-person show or not a show at all. And I can think of a couple ways to make the guy prove himself that I might not mind doing...

In any case, I shed a lot of tears for rape last night. And now I'm kind of back to square one. In the first place, I didn't feel very close to rape. I wasn't very affected by knowing that it's out there. And I personally don't mind. Some of the best ways to cope are denial and ignoring the problem. I often get into mindsets where I blame the other side. Like I concentrate on the people who rape and not the people who get raped. Like feminists concentrating on men and not the fact that women are part of the result, of how life is today. Women make decisions, whether they're aggressive decisions or passive decisions.

The only way I can get a piece of mind is not by dwelling on the evils of men, but by making productive decisions on the side of women. Part of being so mentally involved with rape is that you see rape on a superficial level. And knowing about this world is exclusively about the superficial level. So maybe I have to just stop being horrified and dig a little deeper..

Sometimes I just stop and think about who I used to be and realize that I've changed, for the better. And I'm grateful. Often, in life, changes are gradual, so you can't really pinpoint the day you shook the disagreeable aspects of your personality but one day you realize they are in fact gone. And I'm happy that I've changed.

I wish my taste buds would grow back from that scalding tea incident.

I feel like I'm the only one who takes my English class seriously...

I got the highest test score on our short story test.

I was the only one who came into class on draft day with everything typed up and essentially complete, everybody else had just written drafts with a couple paragraphs. I had like four pages worth.

I recited 108 lines from memory, otherwise known as The Raven.

We all had to memorize a poem, minimum 5 lines. I chose another poem, 30 lines and memorized it. There were only about ten people who showed up. Half of them had forgotten and didn't have their poem memorized at all. Half of the half that claimed they were ready, weren't ready at all. This one girl had about ten words in her poem. It was a jewel poem. It seriously had like four lines. It definitely did NOT meet the requirement, but what's more, she didn't even have it memorized. She just read it from her paper.

I feel efficient, amongst all of those who really don't give a rats ass. I was once like them as well... I really have proved myself in college. I do suppose this is who I was always meant to be. But high school wasn't the appropriate place for me.

In any case, I kind of channeled their energy before I did my poem. I was the last. Fuck it. I should have been the first because none of them made eye contact, none of them spoke loudly, none of them knew it all by heart - they either had to look down a lot or didn't know it at all. There was only one girl who did pretty well. And she said afterwards that her cheeks felt really hot and red because she was so nervous and she didn't make any eye contact.

And I channeled that. I know it sounds like a justification for the fact that I messed up. But it was so laid back. And there is quite a difference between being relaxed and being prompt and efficient. I feel like I don't have the right reasoning to back up what it is I channeled and why. It's just that, I wasn't that nervous standing up in front of 20 people - at the head of the room, looking everybody in the eye, reciting 108 lines.

This time, I was sitting down, in a small circle with like ten people... with only 30 lines. And I didn't look at anybody and I think that also messed me up. It didn't feel right. I looked at the ground and spilled it all out. I screwed up one line and just started the stanza over again and then at like the end of the sixth stanza I totally blanked. Ironically, it was the easiest part of the whole damn poem. It was the last line of the particular stanza and it was so easy but I couldn't remember it. And Amelia was like, well why didn't you just glance down at your paper and get the next word and move on... because I kind of made a big deal about it, I stopped my whole recitation and groaned about how I was blanking out.

But I had earlier on recited the poem about 15 times and one thing I knew is that even if I hesitated... I mean I could say it really fast, in a very automatic way, but if I hesitated in remembering it, I could bring it up in a second's hesitation. You know what I mean? I never forgot, I only hesitated. So I felt like there was no need for my paper because I KNEW it. Even if I hesitated, the poem was already in my head and I need only look at my mental sheet of paper to remind me of the poem. But I completely blanked.

So I turned over my paper and read that last line and then finished the poem. But I was SO nervous. My heart was pounding, my face was flushed. I remember telling myself during the second stanza, calm down. I remember telling myself, this is okay, calm down.

But the one advatage The Raven had is that it was more or less programmed into me. I could say a lot of it in my sleep. I've been reciting those stanzas for four years. This poem was memorized in this past week. And when the words were gone, they were seriously gone. And of course, the more you mess up the more you mess up consequently because you lose confidence when you mess up and it hinders your ability to finish afterwards.

Still, to be fair, I recited more by heart than any other person there. But I was disappointed because I knew it, like I said, I'd recited it like 30 times that morning. I knew it. But I couldn't think.

And it was really cute too because, Ashley, I think her name was, said at the beginning that she didn't think I should have to do a second poem because I'd already done the first poem for everybody. And I smiled, but the teacher said in a good natured manner that I LIKED doing stuff like this, it was fun for me. So that's why I would do it. And then she joked about how I'd get two A's. I'm pretty sure I got one A. Not two but one. Even though I messed up, I've already proved myself, at least...

I just blushed so horribly for like five minutes afterwards because I was so disappointed in myself. And I wish it had been in a more business-like manner. You know? I wish that I could have stood up in front of a grand audience and looked everybody in the eye because I felt much more calm at that moment than sitting around the camp fire, with understanding people who knew what it felt like to be nervous.

And I remember thinking something abstract about how it was kind of weird that I would be the only one there prepared to do it, without needing cheat sheets and the like, with a long poem and everything. I kind of think that the atmosphere wasn't very efficient and business-like and I cantered to the atmosphere, I sort of lowered my standards to fit in. Not consciously... it was just the mood. I channeled the mood. :(

But I'll get over it. Next time though, I'm looking everybody in the eyes. If I look down like I'm nervous and shy, I start to feel nervous and shy and then it consumes me until I can't hear my thoughts, just my heart pumping and my breath wavering. It's awful.

Gosh, that was annoying. I just sit here and watch the same particular characters for hours straight. Like ten hours straight, to be honest. And I pretty much study them. I analyze all their new appearances and etc. I detect their attitudes and their moods and etc. I guess what I'm saying is, I analyze what I like.

And in any case, my point is, I get so into it, so out of my own life, so into their lives -- because of such an excessive amount of time... that when the season is over I integrate some of their habits and mannerisms. It's almost like, I expect it... I've just been watching it for all of these hours and it sort of comes to life for me, so when it's over, I expect it to still be real. So I sometimes carry on the moods and especially the tone of the tv show.

That's what I did with Friends. I did that dramatic thing that Monica always does and I did the sarcasm of Chandler. After I'm done watching Gilmore Girls I do that silly wit that Lorelai does. You know how she creates the most ridiculous scenarios. It's wit but it's definitely an original wit. So I carry that on. After Veronica Mars I have more sarcasm, although I'm not very good at it. I'm better at Chandler's sarcasm cause it's a joke-type sarcasm. Logan is actually being sardonic. I'm not good at sardonisism.

Plus, I'm taking on Veronica's way of talking. It's hard to explain. It's something like, she talks a lot. In real life, people interrupt you and you don't always get to say what you want to say. In TV, interruptions look so fake because they're always so obviously planned. Because otherwise, things like that don't happen in TV. Every character is supposed to say what they have to say. So Veronica is always talking like she knows everything she has to say will be heard. Like she knows she deserves to be heard. And so sometimes her retorts or her comebacks are just a tiny bit lengthy. And they're always witty and very cute. It's not always with people she doesn't like, it's just her relationship with the general public has been bad so she's sassy automatically, since she expects people not to like her.

So even when people are coming up to her with good things, she says something back. And I haven't copied that retorting thing. I've only poorly attempted the sarcasm/sardonisism. But I think I took that from Logan. Maybe his wasn't very good in the first place and that's why it hasn't inspired me but in any case, I have sort of taken that excessive talking.

And as I was chatting away to Dan I realized that if I had been Veronica Mars, everything that I'd have said, would have been cute and witty. She has a cheery twist to her wit, that's what keeps the tone light. And I did copy that light tone, even though I didn't copy the wit. But I realized that everything I was babbling about was not as cool as everything Veronica Mars babbles about. Granted, no duh, because writers carefully consider everything she says. And they're good. But still, it's almost like I'm attempting to be her but it's turning out so badly.

If I had to choose between being me and being her, I would prefer to be me. I'm a pretty cool person and I like my own style. I really like hers too but I'm not that envious. But when I try to mix the two..... agh, it sucks. So I have to sort of get out of the Veronica Mars mode and start being myself.

But since I just ordered the third season online and it should be here soon... I'm going to be right back into that mode. But not before I watch a lot of Remington Steele. That's a good show too. But I can't say I pick up any of their elements. Even though I like them a lot. I guess they're not flashy enough. They are from the 90's. or 80's quite possibly.

I've decided to become abstinent. I know that sounds odd since I haven't had sex for two years but that was only because there wasn't an opportune person to have sex with. I would have had sex with good opportunity.

Thing is, I've really been looking for an excuse for quite some time. I just don't feel like I belong to the world of sex. Not to say that I'm taking a vow of abstinence. It's not lack of sex that makes the difference, it's my mindset towards sex that has changed and that will prompt me to make new decisions in the future. Regardless of if I end up having sex or not.

Maybe this all has something to do with watching that movie on the sex trade. Human Trafficking, it's called. And seeing women raped and degraded was horrifying, to say the least.

And I've kind of had that kind of a day. A grief stricken day. I feel like I've come across something I need to resolve inside of myself. Something about the misuses of power around the world. I frequently come across the theme of great and controlling power that inevitably uses it for wrong. In many different areas, you know?

As I drove home, I didn't even seek to race all the other cars because power is what drives me, no pun intended. To overtake people on the road is about power. To be caught behind a slow driver is a lack of power. And today, I couldn't bear to let that motivate me in such a ridiculous manner.

And then it occurred to me. I keep saying the words, it's a man's world over in my head. Except I transfer the saying onto sex. Sex is a man's game. It's common for women who rise up in this man's world, and gain power, to also gain men's techniques. Women try to become like men, to fit into this world.

And by golly, that's what defines a lot of my motivation to have sex. Sex is a man's game and I'm just trying to fit in. I'm thinking that the only way I can survive within men is if I conform. But I just can't seem to.

All around me there are all these glaring forms of perversion about sex. Everything about it is just so ugly. What it does to men. What it does to women through men's eyes. What women become because of it. Prostitution, stripping, sex trade, rape. I'm just so sick of seeing it.

And one glaring conclusion I can make is that it's a men's game. It revolves around the needs and the power of men.

Believe me, I'm frequently turned on. Frequently needy and hungry with lust. However, it's men that tell me that when I get horny I'm supposed to have sex. Not to say that any particular man has said this. But it's men who see this conclusion as inevitable.

And I kept trying to work within that pretense. I kept saying that my sexual needs would be met through sex. And yet, it's still a man's game. And I feel, and have always felt pressured to conform to that game to win a man's affection. I mean to say, I don't want to disappoint the guys I like. And that's why I've been so resolved to make sex work.

But I don't want to be a victim of man. The symbol of man. Not humans, but the symbol of masculinity. I don't want to be dominated by the rules of man. Maybe that's what the movie represented to me. It represented women being forced to conform to the rules of man, of the male. But what they wanted, what so many fucking men want, is so awful.

Sex is just a facade for their perversions. Everything about sex, the way it's used in our society, based on the terms of men, is horrid.

I plan to have a husband and babies. And sex is an essential part of that scheme. But for once in my life I feel like I want to be the type of girl who says "I'm not going to have sex with you until the wedding." I always disliked those women. I thought they were dumb, for lack of a better explicative word. But maybe I just didn't like their reasoning. In any case, I feel like the most powerful thing I could do right now is claim my own right.

I don't like sex. I don't like common sex, I mean. I don't like what I see, what I know men want. It doesn't really satisfy me sexually, it doesn't satisfy me emotionally, and it really only bothers me. The pressure bothers me. Trying to make it work bothers me. Personally, I find masturbation a lot better. Even though, while I masturbate I'm thinking of real sex. Truth is, I can't make guys see what I want about sex. I keep thinking hey, one day I'll see that their plan is good for me. One day I'll realize it's worth it.

But will that day ever come? There are so many women who dislike sex in such a cliche manner. It's a cliche that women only have sex in this bored manner, to appease their husbands. It is so common!! And when they do like sex? That's when they're fiendish. Women have to get this fiendish quality to enjoy sex. And even then, I've never talked to a fiendish woman personally, but I'd really be interested to know if it physically feels as great as one boasts. Because something tells me that there are other benefits, power most often, that make women like that choose to enjoy sex. They're usually very tempting and they love that too. They love the power their body holds.

I mean fiendish women have urgent, hot and heavy sex, Often. But do they enjoy it?

I'm just so sick of playing a man's game. And I'm sick of being ignored. I'm sick of having my needs go unnoticed because those idiots can't expand their minds to comprehend that perhaps what gives them pleasure does not, in fact, give us pleasure. I'm sick of trying to explain to them what does give me pleasure to no avail. They're just too stuck in their own rules. They don't care what a woman wants.

I mean, every single time a guy even tries to give me an orgasm, he doesn't even listen to what I want. He goes straight for my clit. You'd think, that would be the right thing to do. That's what I do when I masturbate. But it's not. It's not the right thing to do. I can't quite explain why, I just know that perhaps sex for me is not about orgasms. And it is obviously about orgasms to guys.

I was just thinking today... every time people talk about how they've "had sex" it sounds like such an event. And imagine all those guys who can get off in a manner of seconds, sometimes mercifully a few minutes... I'm thinking of teenage boys and especially virgins. I'm just thinking how silly it is that they can go around saying they've "had sex" when to have sex will often be so very quickly accomplished for them and their dicks.

I can't connect with anyone, intimately, within the rules that have been set forth for so many years. And I hate the raging degradation involved for women. Soo much of it is degrading. From male sex trades not existing to men who have ten wives and kings who have concubines. To stripping and prostitution. All of it is degrading towards only one gender.

So, I have things to do and people to see....

P.S.
Isis is perfect.

I woke up in a very cheery mood this morning. Can't say why. Maybe my body elemental is happy. lol. I'm just all smiles. Despite the fact that Amelia ate my friggen cereal all up....

Hmmm.. I turned on Stereophonics: Have a Nice Day. Perfect song to listen to with my mood...

I have to get finished with memorizing this poem. It's really easy though. Our time was extended because she wanted to go to the library last Thursday so now it's due on Tuesday...

.... that seems to be my pattern this morning.

Me reciting The Raven was really good because it dealt with all the themes we were going through. We had just finished love poems and were moving into serious grief poems. Yeah, The Raven is exactly both. And plus the reason I was reciting it is because someone had a request for a Halloween poem and Edgar Allen Poe is a famous horror teller, although The Raven isn't quite so horrific, The Raven is a bit creepy.

But plus, we have a paper due on Thursday... we have three topic choices but one of them is to read The Composition of Philosophy??? It's an essay that Poe wrote, mostly about his thought processes in creating The Raven. I'm surprised more people aren't doing it. Was I that bad in introducing the beautiful poem? It did have some heavy language they're probably keen to ignore. They're going on to Sylvia Plath's poem. Curses. I don't like her.

Truth be told, I don't like Poe either. I hate horror. I hate creators of horror. I respect his creative genius but not with the way he uses it. At least by way of his short stories. Most of his poems are pretty cool. I was going to memorize another of his, it's really intensely complicated. I have no idea what it means, starting with the title. Crazy words. I couldn't pronounce half of them. But I also wanted to do a Greek poem cause something intrigues me about Ancient Greece. Past life, maybe. In any case I found a good Greek poem so sorry Poe. It would have been difficult to memorize his poem anyway...

Well, John finally asked to be friends again. Which I'm alright with, as I told him. But he won't be satisfied with that. Because being friends with me isn't what he really wants. He wants emotional drama. It's curious really.. I keep giving him exactly what he wants and he keeps changing his mind because he seems to always want to be in the position where he can complain about his situation. And I keep screwing up his opportunity.

He always comes to me with these unlikely propositions. He comes to me and wants to date me and he thinks it'll never happen and I go, hmmm I think I can give you that and then he's suddenly remembered he doesn't actually want to date me. So then he expects I'll hate him so his next unlikely proposition is being my friend again. And I go, sure, let's do it. But he won't stop there, he wants to be in love with me again, but knows I'll never trust him and I've probably moved on so he tries to get me again and the cycle continues.

I'm very agreeable. He says let's be friends and I say okay. He says let's be lovers and I say okay. He says let's not be anything and I say okay. But as soon as I say okay, he's got to find something else to want.

As far as I'm concerned it's his need to make himself a victim. Everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. And woe is him. But I like life to be easy and carefree. I don't like needless, illogical pain. I like to be sensible. And in that way, I sometimes like to give people what they want. The simple, easy things that you'd think wouldn't matter to most people but seem to create a lot of discord when not received.

I don't exactly know why Johns stupid enough to try to play his cards with me. I'm exactly the wrong tool. I'm too optimistic, sensible and I'm definitely not the passive girl he wants to dominate. God, he's controlling. Restricting is a good word to use alongside of controlling. But now that I think about it, he doesn't really restrict anything. I may have been thinking about Umbridge at that time...

As I told John, he likes to probe for what he wants. Always trying to make me his goal and his problem in attaining the goal, simultaneously.

Maybe I shouldn't be his friend. But there's something that appeals to me about him. One of my humongous slipups about John was that I lost control of my emotions. Everything about him was so emotional. My attraction to him was hyper emotional. The lust. The fear. The drama because of Lyla. The fights between us. And then the depression afterwards. I totally lost it. Emotionally.

I can't quite put my finger on which it is, am I attracted to him because it's an emotional situation or did I fear him because it's an emotional situation? Because I assumed that I feared him because I fear getting close to people. But maybe I wasn't feeling general fear. Maybe I feared losing control of my emotions. Which quite frankly can easily be associated with the former fear. Part of the problem with getting too close to someone is that the bonds of humanity are based on emotions. Family, friends, lovers -- all of those are derived from emotional value. And maybe that's why I'm afraid of them. I'm afraid to get emotionally involved with people.

Emotions just seem to be a front. You love someone? What's love a front for? You hate someone? What's hate a front for? I'm always looking for the deeper motive behind an emotion. The logic. People do things for logical reasons. Not necessarily sensible reasons but they try to make themselves believe that what they're doing is rational. Even on the deepest levels where they can't even tell what's going on. That's why all they feel is emotions, the result per se.

I'm not satisfied with feeling my emotional reactions to myself and the life around me. At least not at my best. Sometimes I do slip up.

In any case... I think it flatters me to be the object of John's emotion. He is so very intensely emotional. God, I used the word intense a lot when we were involved. I should have seen through my own words. Emotionally intense. Loaded words??

I always try to use that phrase, loaded question -- or whatever it is. But I can't quite figure out what it implies.

Even though I know Johns a total crackpot. Even though I know his emotions are a fraud. It flatters me that he's always pointing them my way. I guess, part of me is attracted to emotion - that's obviously why it's my downfall and that's obviously why it's my major nemesis. Therefore, I can't help but indulge myself, indulge him a little bit... play along with the game.

Remember, that's why I told myself that perhaps the next time he asks to be friends I should just come right out and tell him I love him. Skip a couple wasteful steps. Scare him off right away... lol. I'm not daring enough to do it though. I hate to lie. It makes me shy. You need a particular boldness to lie. The truth is sort of foolproof. I mean, people don't always believe you but you know you've done all you can. A lie isn't protected because there are so many truths out there to expose it. I can't stand taking the risk of a lie. Scares me.

I wouldn't ever be able to tell John I loved him and pretend I did... It would be so extremely amusing though. I wonder if I could wrangle Amelia to do it. She likes to act.

I wonder what Lyla said to me. It has been about a week, right? I just know I won't like it. Whatever it's about. I don't want to have anything to do with Lyla and I don't want to get mixed up with John. That emotional attractiveness is just so absorbing. :(

I seem to want to torment myself. It's like I never get curious to investigate anything unless it will eventually torment me. Yes, it usually involves a guy... But I can already think of four guys who it has involved in the past. Screw.

While I'm waiting for the chicken to cook I make grilled cheese. While I'm waiting for the grilled cheese to cook, I make tea. While I'm waiting for the water to boil, I make toast.

I have no patience, really.

So, you see, I'll eat my toast while I watch my tea boil, and I'll drink my tea while I watch my grilled cheese toast, and I'll eat my grilled cheese while my chicken finishes cooking. And then I'll eat my chicken and will have wasted no time at all...

Ugh, I would have got an A on my poem had Amelia told me that the structure needed to be in a particular format. 2 lines. 3 lines. 2 lines. 1 line. THANKS FOR TELLING ME. I was home babysitting her daughter while she was in class taking notes to help her get A's.

:( I don't like getting an A- when I deserve an A. It would have taken me aprox 30 seconds to fix the damn structure. Boooo.

Alright, three stanzas down. I figure if I did two yesterday, two today, two tomorrow and then two the morning that I'm due to recite it, I'll be done. It's a pretty simple poem. I'm glad. I quite like it.

Nice morning, rather. Rainy. Not anymore though. But it created a soothing atmosphere. One of the things rain often does is become a transparent curtain for the world. And in that sense, as it sheaths the world, it equalizes everything in it, and creates what atmosphere it so desires.

Today's atmosphere is nice. Calm. And there isn't any sunny so the lighting is very equal. I detest the sun because it can't light up the world equally, or at least New York, eh? Always shadows and that poachy color on the leaves and the grass. No, no. Today is not like that.

Granted, how nice can autumn and winter be? Yesterday I drove on one of the back roads I never take and man was it the ugliest thing I've ever seen. It was like being back in Montana. I live in New York. Remember? Not Montana. Thank you very much.

But still. It's a forgivable scene under the pretense of rain. And I wish the rain had continued. The sky is already starting to clear up. :(

I keep reciting The Raven in my head, without warning. I think I was concentrating so damn hard before I meant to do it in front of the class. I wanted to study it intensely, so that it was all ingrained at the tip-most part of my memory. And it was. I didn't forget a thing. Sometimes, in the middle of the paragraphs I would stumble and then correct myself. And I went rather fast. But I glided through it. And now it just won't go away.

Previous times when I'd studied the poem, I had let it go away. Which is why it took me so long to learn. Because I learned it and then let it go away. This time I made sure it wouldn't and now I can't shake the feeling that I'm keeping it at the tip-most part of my memory all the time, even though I don't need it anymore. So now my thoughts are interrupted with random quotes from the damn poem.

I'm pretty sick of saying it.

Naturally, I have another poem to memorize for Thursday. About two and a half damn days to memorize it. Eight stanzas. It's Greek and I picked out a nice rhyme so it'll become easier.

I'm just sort of not in the mood... you know? I wish I hadn't offered to do it last week. Absurd of me because that very day she gave us the date for when we had to learn our own poem. So now I have to get to the other one. :( I don't want to. If I had just waited a week I could have used The Raven! But I like the poem I chose... I only have the first stanza memorized so far. "They thought that I took no flower. From the virgin land of ever-still dreams. That those blossoms had not the power. To Bind me to the land where everything gleams." It's about Odysseus.

Last night I gave Isis a piece of candy. Small gummy thing. About the width of a gummy worm but half the length. It didn't seem to be that sugary or elaborate. But I think it was too much sugar for her. Who can say if the candy really made a difference but she was wild. She was taking her bath when it kicked in. She acted like the motor of a motor boat. Her arms were flying around splashing, for like five minutes straight. She didn't care that it was splashing into her eyes either.

Her adrenaline was rushing. Every movement she made was very quick. Like there was no pause to rest, she just kept moving. And, of course, she had some screaming and warrior cries in there. Not the sad kind. Just lots of noise. Her crazy laughing was cute.

Yesterday, as I was filling up gas, some black guy started talking to me. Since I was at a Catskill gas station he asked me if I lived in Catskill and then where I actually lived, since I don't live in Catskill. And then he asked my name. He had to repeat a lot of his questions because he was so damn casual about it that I wasn't entirely sure he was talking to me half the time. He was on the other side of the gas thingie. On the way in, to pay, he asked me if I was single. I said yes, naturally.

But on the way back out he asked how old I was. To which I replied Seventeen. And he didn't seem to fancy that. He practically apologized for hitting on me. Ha. Such a repellent I have. Funny enough, he wasn't the only stranger to talk to me with the tone of someone who's well-acquainted with me. This little girl asked me, as I was walking to my car, if it was my car. She yelled actually, down the street. And then she told me that her mom was taking her to the library. And when I drove past her she waved bye to me. Sociology makes me think about strangers a lot. What it means to be a stranger to one another. How we act towards them. There are a lot of people who treat each other like strangers and a lot of people who don't. I always admired the latter.

I love doing fantastically in school. I was really rather grumpy when we sat down to go over our test in Western Civilization. Because that score on Blackboard did not seem pretty. I haven't even gone back to see it because it looks horrible. I wonder if it's right, because when I tallied it up as he instructed me to do, it does not turn out the same. But I'm trying not to think about it.

I got two wrong. One of them was about the two of them being Polyponesian, however it's spelled. Anyway, it was false and I said true. I'm not peeved because at the time, I pretty much guessed. And I apparently guessed wrong. Can't beat myself up over it though. And the other one I got wrong, 95% of the class got right. It was an All of the Above type of deal and I only chose one of the answers, which incidentally was right. :p I laugh that I got it wrong. Because it's so ironic. All those questions that 30% of the class didn't get that I got and the one question that everybody seems to find simple, I overlook.

I got three others wrong. If I had only looked at those damn objectives. I meant to but I blew it off. If I had, I would have gotten those three right. But it doesn't matter, they were erased by the curve. Even though had I gotten them right the curve would have, instead, given me a hundred. But even though it's a shame I didn't get one hundred... truth is, I'm not used to it. I've never gotten one hundred on an exam. It's my M.O. to mess up a question or two here and there. But not too many, of course. I like to stay in my nineties.

That Forensic Science test that I thought I knew nothing of... I got a 92 on that. Which is the same score I got on the last test only I did the bonus on the last one so it went up to a 97. I knew the bonus for this one, I'm sad to have not done it. So I did well on my memorization. It was kind of amazing actually. I was shaking the entire time but it was an automatic reaction, I wasn't very nervous when I got up there.

And I realized, as I looked around and made eye contact with all of the people in the room, that a few of them wouldn't look me back in the eye. Usually when you're up in front of the class you feel like the weaker party. That's what's scary. They're all there in front of you, judging you. You're at their mercy. You're on the spot, especially, because you're always preforming when it happens. But I felt like the powerful one, every time I looked at someone and they averted their eyes. It was amusing. To know that I was the one on the spot, and they still felt weaker than me.
Very amusing. So that very day I had to do a small presentation on one of the ways to test Inorganics, in Forensic Science. I was way more nervous about that. I think because we had to prepare during class, so I felt pressured and rushed. But despite my nervousness, I was actually prepared. It was so strange... I can never wrap my mind around science. Many people say that scientists try to impress people with big words and complicated sentences that explain it. Because they like to be elite. So they like to have elite language, that few can understand. And maybe that's so. I never really wanted to admit that I was one of the non-elite that couldn't understand the language. I'd prefer not to admit I can't understand it.

But maybe I can't. Or I wish not to. As I read over the words, my mind just can't wrap itself around the concepts. They don't make sense to me. They don't confuse me, they just don't sink in. Like I can't open my mind to them. I'm blocked from understanding Science. Most likely why I failed Biology twice, eh? I'm sometimes sad to have missed out on chemistry, though. In any case, I HAD to understand this stuff because I had to present it. I think a lot of the other groups may not have understood the concepts either. As if they couldn't break down the scientific barrier. The elitist language. They couldn't translate it.

Truthfully, I was so wound up about my own presentation that I barely heard a word any of them said. lol. Nikki said the same thing. She's a little bit slower than me intellectually... so I rather took charge. And I forced myself to dissect the paragraphs in front of me and understand them. And I did. And I could speak of them in a very casual, modern language, and describe what they did. I was so proud of myself. I've never been able to do that with science. Rather, I've never WANTED to do that with science. Obviously, it was a chore. And I like my intellectual studies to be easy.

When I got in front of the class it went less smooth than I wanted it to. I couldn't exactly find the words I was looking for and it wasn't as organized on my page of notes as I originally thought I'd made it. At one point as I read off a definition I cursed myself because I sounded like everybody else, using scientific terminology. So after that I translated it into easier terms and sort of made up for my lack of not using easy terms in the very first place, as I'd planned to do. In any case, it wasn't a big deal, my teacher didn't intend to make it a big deal. So I have no worries. I'm just rather proud of myself for grasping the meaning of those stupid paragraphs, when it seems to go so against my nature. :p

You know, and I also had that Sociology presentation. My groups' acting was pretty shabby, but you see why I didn't want to fall prey to that... so I opted to be the narrator and I did pretty well. Very organized. Even had to remind the teacher about some of the requirements that she'd asked of us originally but dismissed our group before we could give to her. I keep wondering what she would have done, given us the five points anyway? Not all the groups really answered that. I've had a lot of public speaking...

I wonder why Isis is still sleeping... she usually doesn't sleep this long. Hmm.

Anyway, I feel very self-satisfied. Proving myself academically, testing a few of my limits. Strengthening my will and my power. I have a lot more confidence this semester. Confidence as a driver, which I didn't have last semester. Confidence in my emotions, tested by situations like talking to Dan. A boldness in classes that I didn't have last semester. I think I was rather shy and afraid. I shake though. That second day of Sociology, I believe it was, when I planned to share my opinion on one of the topics. It was sort of a small speech I had to say and she wouldn't call on me. She kept ignoring me. I swear it was so obvious that all the students sitting around me kept laughing or giving sympathetic looks.

But in any case, my heart was pumping very fast with the suspense of me sharing my opinion. I was very nervous. But I think what I've learned is, I would rather be nervous during my speeches, than knowing that my shyness has prevented my speeches. I don't know when I'll stop being afraid of whatever past life opening, public speaking gives me. I channel my past lives to become nervous, shaky and shy. But it's nice to know that I actually can function simultaneously with that fear. I can present and shake like a maniac.

Oh... ugh... cramps. Ow.

And my temper is short. Mostly because of all the damn pessimism. Damnet, can't these people have good lives? I hate Harry Potter. There are so many things pessimistic and negative about the last few books. I'm only reading the fifth to understand the sixth and I'm only reading the sixth to understand the seventh and I'm only reading the seventh because it's the END of the damn books. I don't enjoy them at all.

Firstly, the first three books have conquering, triumphant and idealistic endings of good triumphing in spectacular ways. I like that shit, okay? The fourth is okay but after that, marks a new era of good just being smothered by bad.

There's someone dying at the end of each book, from the fourth it's Cedric, the fifth it's Sirius, if I remember correctly. The sixth it's Dumbledore. Do we really need this?

And think about it, Voldemort comes back for the fifth book but who is Harry's enemy? The Good Guys! The ministry of magic is the ultimate form of abusive power. Voldemort is supposed to be the powerful one who abuses his power, but apparently he's too cliche and Rowling had to bring in the good guys being bad.

Well, lol, I went back to sleep. Now I'm really caught up on sleep. Sixteen hours?

Apparently, a neighbor's tree branch fell on the power lines. And it was a big deal, my dad says, because fire trucks and police cars came. Did I sleep through all of that? I wonder if they had their sirens on. When I woke up the power was still out. But it turned back on in a few minutes. Good cause I was considering going back to sleep...

I think I'm good for a while.

Wow I just got twelve hours of glorious sleep. Undisturbed sleep. I went to sleep at midnight and I didn't wake up at all until ten. There's not a single noise in this house. I wonder if my parents are even here... I did have a couple of dreams. Random dreams. About driving and riding a bike and Amelia and James and Isis - and stealing my little ponies. So I went back to sleep a minute after I woke up and now I've gotten up at noon. So nice. My limbs are a little dead because they've probably been immobile for too long. But I feel well-rested. I've had too many "five or six hours of sleep" these past two weeks. It's really cold though.

Lyla just sent me a really long message on myspace. All I read was "listen, this is something I should have fucking done two months ago" and my heart stopped. I truly fear conflict. You wouldn't think it. But it makes me sweat and shiver dramatically.

I don't want to read the letter. I highly doubt it's something I'll like and I don't want to concern myself with whatever it might be. I know it's about John. I saw him when I went trick or treating. I was looking for Joe because I heard Andrew's little brother say something about Bumbo. So there was a group of kids in front of us and I was searching for Joe when John turned. There was nothing to say. We just stared at each other... Considering how things ended up between it's not like we could say hey, what's up. And it surprised us both, to run into each other.

He was with Lyla. I didn't see her, only her hair as they walked away. He IMed me and simply asked if I wanted to kill him or some such thing. Ever since that casual way I answered him when he said he was moving to New Jersey, it's really worked out for me. Every time I talk to him I'm so indifferent. Well the funny thing is, I'm not actually indifferent. I'm sparked emotionally. Mostly resentment and the like. But I give these short, simple answers. Like "no," without explanation. Usually I'm in the middle of something and I don't stop and give him my full attention. I just keep playing my card game, watching tv, editing my picture. And I don't elaborate, I don't validate his subjects by my enthusiasm.

Very often I do this with people I don't like and it does not work to make them go away. But John is insecure, I think. He expects the worst. He won't force himself on me. Not that I think he wants to. But when he does strike up a conversation I just act indifferent and he goes away. Sometimes I'm even waiting to say the emotional stuff I have to say. But the opening never comes. There's got to be an opening for it in the conversation and it never feels like the right time. Before I know it he's said bye and who am I to disagree? I hesitate and then I say, ah, what the hell.. and let him go.

So I think my point is, I don't want Lyla to bring anything up. I don't want her to provoke something that will make me resent her, fear her or think about her. When I fight, I fight hard. And it consumes me. I don't want to fight right now. I don't want to be angry. I don't want to feel scared. I don't want to sweat and shiver. I don't want to try to prove my worth with my quick, keen debating skills. I don't want to make mincemeat out of her, you know? I don't want to have the compulsion to do that.

And I also don't want to think about John. He's not part of my life anymore. We didn't know each other for very long, thus, we've quickly lost touch. And whether he still has feelings for me or not isn't really relevant because he proved that he didn't want me. And neither do I want him. I may like to kiss him, but I'd sooner find another partner than deal with him.

I haven't messaged him or IMed him in like 2 months. Maybe more? When did I start this blog? That's when I stopped.

I don't deserve to hear anything she has to say about her or him.

As I told her, "I'm not reading that. Whether it's positive or negative, it doesn't concern me."

Seems like I've exchanged horrible words with nearly every single person in that group of friends. I left that behind when I left Mike behind. Lyla was one of the last people I still got along with.

I'm sleepy... that's what I get from five hours of sleep. I've been doing that a lot lately.. I guess cause I've been waking up early to babysit Isis. Who is not a brat anymore... but I'm too tired to talk about it. I'm going to babysit the twins and Jack at in an hour and a half. Hmm. I hate babysitting when I'm tired.

I'm thirsty.

I want to cry at how much I know. In a good way. It's so amazing, when I sit down and write the pages of my book, all that comes out. Things I honestly don't think about, and yet I know. Amazing things. Revolutionary things. Solutions. That's what's so amazing about them. Is that they're solutions to all the entrapments of life. We feel so stuck, so miserable in life, don't we? Don't many people? Not that I do, rest assured. I love life and love myself.

Which is why I have the ability to pass on this wisdom. And although a lot of it is not proven, but believed to be true, thus, debatable... there are many things that I believe that have changed my life. And there's nothing you can say to take away that proof. My book is about thought. It's called Underage Thoughts. It's about thoughts. It's about the mind. It's about what we believe. Our emotions. It's not about what we do. There are so many organizations, religions, teachings - that guide us on what we need to actively do. And then there are organizations and the like, that teach us about life, sometimes about our place in it. They teach us about the somewhat objective bigger picture. And that's what my parents do.

But this is strictly about YOU. It's about introspection. In an intense sense of the word. And although I teach a lot about what I believe the self is and how it works, mostly as a reflection of what I believe my own self is and how it works... I'd like to think that the biggest teaching of my book is that, by example, others can realize that it's Possible to look inward. I won't even get into that whole Jesus mistake. What people did with Jesus' teachings is incredible.ly dumb. :p But let's be optimistic and hope people don't do the same thing with what I teach. I can optimistically say that there are those who will and there are those who won't. Instead of concentrating on all those that can't be helped by me, I'd like to appreciate those who can. Those who are like me.....

Although I don't know anybody like me, but my dad. And every once in a while, my mom. But less my mom than my dad. I guess, in some sneaky sense, I don't want anybody to be like me. I want to be special. I have to let that go.

Anyway, I'm day dreaming, about my book being finished. I don't know why I'm stalling. Cause every time I sit down to write, it's all there, so ready SO READY to be drawn out of me and put down on paper. But I don't often sit down to write, that's the problem. And I give excuses about school and the like, but what about last summer? I had all the time in the world and I did nothing. Why didn't I write? What is it going to take to get me motivated?