because I miss this place a whole lot sometimes
Tumblr's just completely filled the obsession hole in my life recently, and it's not like I've got whosbad to entertain myself with anymore, so I've neglected the hell out of this journal of late. Sooooo, for posterity's sake (like that shit even applies to me), here's a little, self-absorbed, mini life update:
1. Still no job, still no car, still living like a total mooch and enjoying every minute of it.
2. I'm 23 now, and boy, is that shit depressing. One foot in the door, man. Hafta start getting serious with the bank robbery planning.
3. I've really...gotta stop kissing all of my friends. Probably. Probably won't, though. I have an oral fixation, okay? I'd make out with a tree if it could kiss me back.
4. Cut my hair even shorter in...April, I think? (I've lost any sense of time in my world.) Did it myself because, well, I don't wanna pay out of the ass for a salon cut (factoring in that they never give you exactly what you want), because it holds heat on my head like a goddamn convection oven, and it's HOT IN TEXAS DURING THE SUMMER, aaand I'm fucking addicted to cutting my hair. Addicted. Anyway, it's totally, like, boy short now, which I am thoroughly enjoying. It's also the first period of time in my life that I've actually had to teach myself the ends and outs of the blowdryer and round brush combo. I've gotta say, I'm fairly decent at it, and surprisingly enough, my hair, which has never behaved a day in its life before now, will stand perfectly erect for days after I've styled it. Color me thrilled. Anywho, it's an all-around win-win for me because I like the way it looks, and I can satisfy my tactile sensation by running my fingers over the short sides and the mohawk strip I left down the back. And, since it's so short, it requires a bit of maintenance on a fairly regular basis to keep it looking neat, so I get to indulge in the hair-cutting addiction a lot. I'm talking a lot about this, but it's 'cause I clearly love it. I spent most of my life hating my hair, and I'm at a point and a style now that I'm genuinely enjoying, so it's a big deal for me. And I get constant compliments. And, the other day, my grandmother finally acknowledged it was decent and said that I should try going to beauty school if I can do that well on my own head. (LOL, yeah right.) Picture of it--like I said, viddy, viddy short:
5. My mother's reached a new level of "dead beat" lately, after completely failing all over my birthday. She made a bunch of promises, and now, weeks later, I still cease to even exist to her. For some reason, even after all these years and the constant letdowns, I still always believe she's gonna make good on her most recent promise. I'm kind of over trying to make her feel like she's a good mom after all the shit my brother's said and done to her...'cause honestly, she's a bad mother. That's just the truth of it. But let's not pretend that I want to spend time with her out of some need to be loved by her because I could give two shits about that. I just wanted her to buy me things; that's the trade. I tell her I love her a bunch and tell her she's great, and out of sheer joy, she buys me things. That's the only thing I can stomach from anyone, presents. That's what I get out of my familial relationships: what can you do for me? It's funny that I grew up in a two parent home with everything my heart desired and yet, my mother's left me with such massive, catastrophic abandonment issues. C'est la vie. This is why I don't feel anything like affection for anyone. (As if I even could if I tried.) One ungrateful boychild and one psychotic girlchild. Bang-up job, there, mama. Happy Birthday to me.
6. I'm still bummed out over Amy Winehouse. I haven't said anything about it anywhere, except out loud to a few people, because the internet was just full of wank, and honestly, the last thing I wanna look at when I'm upset about someone I like dying is people talking shit. I was a fan. For a very long time. And it just sucks. But we've all gotta go sometime.
7. I wish I could go out dancing every night. It's one of the few times I actually feel like a living, breathing, feeling creature. It keeps that dark, dangerous thing inside me calm. Always gay bars because they have the best music and no one harassing you. And no fucking fights almost ever 'cause queers are fucking beautiful and we go there to dance. It's the best energy in the world.
8. I feel like all of my recent rambling everywhere have just been really disturbing and off-putting. I apologize for creeping people out, but I've found that talking about shit like that sort of ~de-stresses me, so to speak. I can't pretend to be normal and boring all the time, everywhere. I'd fucking explode.
9. I feel like sculpting. I've had such a craving for it lately. That and welding; sometimes, I curse the fact that I took two welding classes in college. I liked doing it, but I have no way of continuing with it and no money to splurge on an electric. I think I'll have to go with my gut on this one and delve into it head-first. I've had a major block with painting lately. I did have a mini breakthrough the other night, which was sort of a relief. But I'm so lacking in a muse to push me forward lately.
10. I could go on blathering about bullshit for days, but my life isn't fucking interesting, so that's all for now. Things happen. All the time. Big and small. And I keep waking up. I think that's the biggest disappointment every day. "Fuck, not this again."