Continuum?

I have discovered I have trouble continuing stories, character studies, etc. I can start them perfectly fine and sometimes even get a whole page or two solid paragraphs. But then I leave it no ending attached. I am not sure if this is due to me not wanting to ruin what I started in fear of the continuum not the doing the beginning justice or if I’m just lazy. I have a feeling it much more the former than the latter. I just don’t want to risk messing up something I am fond of. Insightful Thought: If I looked at life like I look at my writing I would get no where. Getting no where meant both in a literal and mental way. If I was fond of how I felt when I woke up in the morning and I decided to stay in my bed all day to preserve my good mood I would end up not go to school, going to work, etc. I would be one absurd being; the concept makes me laugh. The concept also makes me think about extreme cases of OCD; for I know there are those out there who are cursed with such strong fear(s) that they don’t leave the environment are they accustomed to. They enjoy the feeling of being comfortable, but who doesn’t? Everyone wants to be comfortable in who they are, what they are and where they are. People with OCD just want to preserve the feeling of being comfortable. Insightful Thought: OCD is all about comfort. I guess I knew that but never really knew it. I wash my hands because it makes me feel better, makes me feel comfortable. But sometimes I think I just wash my hands because it’s so automatic for me. I know I could probably wait to wash but I don’t because it wouldn’t feel right. I assume it’s a good thing that I am aware of how irrational my fear is. When I had trouble starting and finishing my school work my mom used to tell me: Doing something will feel more right than doing nothing. That is 100% true. Even though I 100% agree with that wisdom it only kick started me a few times. When I had trouble doing my work I bluntly told my teachers, parents and shrink it was because I was/am lazy. I was convinced my apathy was the reason but all of them disagreed.

I titled this blog continuum for I started writing said blog with intent of expressing how I do not like that I can start stories or whatever but never continue them. People read what I write and say they want to know more but guess what? I don’t know what to add! Conundrum. Thought: I like that word. Conundrum. Perhaps I want to preserve my writing? Just like the preservation of the feeling of comfort? I act as though my writing is fine wine or some treasured fermented liquid.

Lydia.

A skinny figure that holds brutally honest opinions that either a) stay silent b) are expressed in discussion or c) are targeted and released to one specific person. She is like a metaphorical hunter on the 24/7 prowl constantly spotting victims and choosing her desired action. More often than not a) and b) are in effect and though she is fully capable of speaking her truth sometimes she just chooses not to. She does choose to wear massively holed Converse (previously black and now decorated to their fullest capacity); I assume she enjoys the ventilation. All of her ten fingers are home to one or more rings thus if she were hit, slap or perhaps even tap you it would most definitely hurt.

Mother May I? Take Two.

I am beyond excited to have children and whether or not they are my own or adopted, it makes no difference. I nurture all of those around me involuntary and I thrilled to do so 100% voluntary to children under my custody. I say ‘under my custody’ instead of ‘children of my own’ for as I mentioned previously I am perfectly fine with adoption. I don’t have an ounce of reluctance to caring for and nurturing others so I guess I shouldn’t have said involuntary. I have a motherly nature; it’s my instinct. When I say instinct I think of wild animal mothers like lions, tigers and bears! Oh my! How they are extremely protective of their offspring and if they feel their young are in danger their instinct is to kill those doing the endangering. I can say I have the instinct to protect others but I cannot say I have the instinct to kill those who are threatening. Really, it wouldn’t make sense for me to want to kill the ‘endangers’ for if it’s my instinct to nurture; I would want to protect and care for the endangering party. I guess that is the difference between me and wild animal mothers.

When I think about raising children, I am in awe of how my parents raised me. I consider myself to be a nice, wonderful girl and I have my parents to thank for that. And though that is arrogant of me to say, I do truly believe I turned out okay. I am almost eighteen years old, a.k.a. an adult, and though my parents will always be there I do in reality have to begin caring for and nurturing myself. I take care of myself well, I guess but some of the things I do I would not do to another person. (No sexual insinuation.) But what I mean is how I treat my body. On the original size Jamba Juice cup there is a quote or as they call it a Jambaism: Do unto your body as you wish it would do unto you. I don’t do that. I compulsively pick at my face and arms constantly. My mother has said to me “Would you pick at and scratch those you love?” I understand and agree with comment but I have minimal to zero self control.

Expect for stupid self-help books written by women and men who think they know about children, the common phrase “there isn’t a manual to raising kids” holds true. There is not a so-called manual to help you along step-by-step – unfortunately. Getting back to my parents and their superb job raising me; how they did do it so well? When pondering about my parents, my train of thought wanders to: how am I going to raise my children? Yes, I will be a good mother or so I am told almost everyday but I did not raise the people around me from birth. I only take care of them part-time. I am so concerned I will accidentally mess up my children permanently and if I do, how do I fix it? I do not want to be the one responsible for the couch time they will in turn endure.

NEW:

I myself ‘endure’ routine couch time but I know it is not due to childhood scars or parenting mistakes but rather bad genes. What I am counseled for just so happens to be encoded in my DNA: obsessive compulsive tendencies. In theory I could blame my mother for the above but that wouldn’t be fair because I know she did not choose to become damaged. Sprouting from her post-traumatic stress, PTSD, she developed OCD. I’m not a scientist but I assume her damaging experiences mixed up her brain chemicals and in turn all of that translated to her DNA… ? That sounds right. Overall, when I was created science again took the reins and served me half my mothers and half my fathers genes. (This DNA duo meal deal was of course served upon a silver platter.) It’s genetics, how can you fight it?

Character study.

It’s rather unusual to find her in a docile mood but why would I question such peace? Why would I question someone who wants to agree with me? That would be absurd!

She comes from an outlandish country, one that taught her a vile attitude is always preferred. I’m convinced the city has transformed her; a two part shift. Part one: a danity appearance and graceful hand motions have emerged from her coarse shell. This is positive. Part two: her emotions are maudlin and such sappiness puts me in a foul mood. This is negative. Not negative in a catastrophic way but negative because it irritates me. She has changed and I will have to adapt.

She did not request this transformation but I can conclude from her new vibrant wardrobe and constant solemn grin she does not object.

Not done like bread in the oven; not finished like a test but rather still in progress.

A “glamorous” life according to me…

I would be married to a wonderful man, who would be fully accepting of me, mesh well with my family and my friends would 100% percent approve of him. We would live in West Linn (or a small city similar to it) in a small-medium house with a two-car garage and a small backyard; mostly grass. Two to three adopted kids would live with us and they will feel as though they our own. A hairless cat would roam our house. I would work from home for Gingerbread Traditions Inc. and be vice president of the company. A few times a week I would visit the factory, located in Oregon City. My husband would have the job of his dreams; not sure what that will be for I cannot chose for him. As my kids grow up I would have a perfectly balanced friend/parent relationship with each of them. I would drive a Volvo and the drivers seat bum warmer would always be on.

No name.

I find it humorous how bloggers write about other people, most commonly trashing said person, but always do so indirectly for the trashees name is never used. I also find this convenient.

It bothers me how you put Person #1 in a bad, blah mood every time you walk by or talk directly to Person #1. It bothers how you say you are happy with your relationship but constantly text Person #1 about good memories of the old days and inquire about getting back together. Person #1 does not like you anymore! Give up! Please. I’m a fan of your writing but I still am not fond of you or what you did. Why would you come back to Person #1 almost a year later and tell Person #1 the rumors weren’t true? Wouldn’t you want to clear your name right after the rumors started? You make no sense.

Consolidate it!

Shorter and faster; those two words drive our modern day society. Words are shorten into abbreviations for convenience, names and titles that contain 3+ words are assigned acronyms and technology has to be fast, faster and fastest! A shorter, faster society creates a lazy lifestyle.

Acronyms:

STD – Sexually Transmitted Disease. WWW – World Wide Web. OCD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. PTSD – Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. MTV – Music Television. VH1 – Video Hits One. HBO – Home Box Office. LOL – Laugh Out Loud. OMG – Oh My God/Gosh. CEO – Chief Executive Officer. NBA – National Basketball Association. WNBA – Women’s National Basketball Association. NYPD – New York Police Department. ROFL – Rolling On the Floor Laughing. ASL – American Sign Language. DOB – Date of Birth. BRB – Be Right Back. TTYL – Talk To You Later. FDA – Food and Drug Administration. FBI – Federal Bureau of Investigation. CIA – Central Intelligence Agency. PO – Probation Officer. ADIDAS – All Day I Dream About Sports. MIA – Missing In Action. AWOL – Absent Without Official Leave. POW – Prisoner Of War. GMC – Garage Mechanics Companion. SOS – Save Our Ship. IBM – International Business Machines. NYC – New York. SAT – Scholastic Aptitude Test. PSAT – Practice Scholastic Aptitude Test. DVD – Digital Video Disc. VHS – Video Home System. VCR – Video Cassette Recording. MIP – Minor In Possession. PCS – Possession of Controlled Substance. DUI – Driving Under the Influence. MIPT – Minor In Possession of Tobacco. COD – Cause Of Death. BFF – Best Friends Forever. BMW – Bayerische Motoren Werke. USPS – United States Postal Service. LA – Los Angeles. BCBG – Bon Chic Bon Genre (Good Style Good Class). UK – United Kingdom. SN – Screen Name. AOL – America OnLine. AIM – AOL Instant Messenger. ANTM – America’s Next Top Model. JK – Just Kidding. CSI – Crime Scene Investigator. KKK – Ku Klux Klan. NYP – Not Yet Passing. SWAT – Special Weapon And Tactics. USSR – Union of Soviet Socialist Republics. USA – United States of America. MSG – Monosodium Glutamate. NVM – Nevermind.

Quote.

“That which does not kill us only makes us stronger.” – ancient wisdom, source unknown

I agree with the above; the universally known quote. But I’d like to insert a few words, “That which does not kill us first makes us weak then makes us stronger.” I think the chunk I added to the quote does not change the concept but adds some truth to it. To me the quotes illustrates the following: getting a cut and at first it hurts for you have an open wound (weakness), then the wound heals and a scar forms creating new tougher skin (stronger). Or this illustration: you fall over and then get back up. The falling over representing weakness and the getting back up representing becoming stronger.

So… get back up!

Best friend.

My best friend ever is Kelsey Nicole Kisler. For the last 3 years of both our 17 year old lives we have been BFF (Best Friends Forever); knowing one another in 8th grade but meeting in freshman English. Specifically Miss Eisenbach’s fifth period English class. The building block of our relationship was our first sleepover and though it was an incomplete sleepover, the block seems to have persisted and over time developed completion.

First Sleepover Story: Kelsey remembered to ask her mother if I could come over but failed to ask if I could spend the night. Hanging out in her apartment complex club house, the late evening approached; her mom called to see where we were and inquired about when I was leaving, we both found this funny for we thought I was spending the night but apparently not. To both our disappointments I had to go home but a few weeks later we redeemed our lost sleepover.

I dropped out of school three or four months before the end of freshman year, subsequently skewing us off course but in 2005 we met back up at ArtTech; the new high school charter school. Since then we have been metaphorically attached at the hip and on occasion attached by a metaphoric rope, due to bumps and tiffs. But we have always found our way back to each others side.

We share the same train of thought and more often than not say the same exact comment at the same exact moment. After we involuntary copy one another we say, “Get out of my head”, which is always accompanied by smile.

I love her, even when she is being stupid and she loves me when I’m being stupid. This concept is known as pure acceptance.

Rant.

rant - verb (used without object)
1. to speak or declaim extravagantly or violently; talk in a wild or vehement way

A poem:

Repetitive

Different words

Sharing the

Same meaning

Expression of passion

Positive or negative

The passion persists

Rant, rave, repeat

Repeat, rave, rant