Well, today was the first day I finally felt like myself again. Thus I will now say with certainty that the cold I had is gone. Hopefully, I will not get sick again anytime soon if not later on in the distant future.
As of late I have really been into “drawing” again. In other words, computer works. Those are not my detailed penning… I have not done one of those since last New Year’s Day. Anyway, I have been doing art though. What spurred it was an anime I have been interested in as of late. In fact I even read the manga up to the latest chapter out. Now I am quietly following when a new episode or chapter is out.
I have been doing art in a style I did sparingly in my past. The main reason for the sparingly was due to the difficulty of it and the memory required to use. The pictures are usually the size of 2000 to 5000 pixels in height. When I work on them, it is later do I shrink them to about the size of 900 pixels. It has been fun though.
To add onto that, and this is a part I often do not care to do often, I have been trying to do the art in the original style. Yeah, I have been doing “fan art”. Every once in a while such a phase hits me. Well, this is one of them.
Other than that… nothing else has really “been going on”. I’ve had thoughts. The last time I saw Kyle, I talked to him about… lacking human abilities or pretty much alienation of understanding things that most do not even need to understand. Schizoid is what my mother and one of the doctor ladies have said. I’ll agree with that one.
Then there was today. Something I listened to stirred up memories. Usually my memories of “darker” times would deal with girls who had been in my life. This time it was of two guys. One was of a guy from the UK. I had thought of him before in my high school years once and oddly saw him on the computer not too long after.
I met him in middle school. We had something of an Internet relationship. He was older than me and very kind. We would stay up for hours into the night talking. I learned a lot about him and he learned much about me. I remembered how he spoke of having dreams regarding me. I remember two main symbols he told me about. One was a six. The other was a dragonfly.
Some point in my eighth grade year though, I broke it off. I did not know at the time but I was bipolar. I was very moody and suicidal. I cut and there were many other problems. I was a moralistic bastard then and still am now. He was one of the people who told me that I sounded like I was a self-sacrificing person. Well, I am not to sure about that, but okay. Anyway, I had a feeling I’d drown him with all of my issues and it was not fair for him to have to deal with my selfishness or something.
Perhaps it was intuition.
It was not too long later did things go really haywire. I started taking medication and was in high school. I started seeing head doctors. Then there was that actual suicide attempt. I never thought Kyle would have found that email so soon in truth. I thought he would have encountered it the next day. Even now I do not know how I feel about that. I’m not at all resentful that he called and told my parents. I just sometimes wonder…
Anyway, the point is, it was good that the guy did not have to go through that with me. After the breakup, he had gotten emotional and I stood by him until he seemed fine again. He met another person and I encouraged him to hook up with her since he seemed to like her. After he did get together with her I felt frustration with myself and some sadness for a while. I had a good long cry even. Perhaps I even felt some jealousy. In fact, now that I think about it, I know I did. I saw him interact with her one point a while later. I thought I saw a completely different side to him. It was not long after he admitted to me that it really was not him… it was more of a façade. It was one of those double-edged swords I guess. It relieved me that what I had seen in him had not been a lie, but it was distressing that he was in a relationship where he was restricting himself.
In the end though, things worked out I believe. Last I saw him, he was doing fine. Good luck to him, where ever and whatever he is doing now. He had been a very important person in my life…
You know the odd thing, though? I believe he was the one that started the whole “Shimmer”. Yeah… it was during that time I had found the song. I remembered it vaguely in my youth, but had found the song and the title of it while with him. Heh.
The other guy I thought of is a no-brainer, likely. I thought of Kyle and the last time I saw him in the flesh. Now that was utterly bittersweet.
I still remember tidbits of that day. I remember how I had thought of asking his mother if she would mind driving me home while he and his boyfriend were upstairs likely making out still. I remember adoring his Pomeranian and paying attention to his cats when I hide away from the two. I remember going into his closet and stumbling upon a shirt of his I liked. I had taken off my favorite gray tank top and put it on.
Heh… I also remember how the boyfriend made a snide comment about me undressing in font of them. I remember thinking dryly how I did not think they would have noticed since they were busy groping each other and since I was pretty sure that most of the wall in between was blocking view anyway. Besides, why would they care? I was a girl.
I remember feeling sad, like one of those smiles that really looks like crying. I remember feeling no longer being a part of Kyle’s life that day. I remember sobbing when I had returned home.
There are many other things of that day I remember, but I guess they need not be written. However, after thinking about it, I had also thought of the glass flower. A faint smile had graced my lips. The flower had a story too. Kyle had two of them. One was blue. The other was green. He gave me the blue. He gave the boyfriend the green. I remembered feeling a light pain to the chest when I found out the green had been given away. I had told Kyle why. Then Kyle told me his reason of the passing of the two flowers.
I guess music can be a powerful thing. That is what had reminded me. It was a song from my middle school years I believe. It was a pop song, as those were the fad of the time. I had stumbled upon it on YouTube while browsing for something and it resulted in being a fan-made music video for something. The song had been used and that began the memories.
I have a new song now though. It marks… another relationship. “Rest In Pieces”. As of late, I wonder if close relationships are really necessary for me. Of all of my close relationships, none were seriously romantic or anything. Maybe some would think they were… but looking at them, it was and is just how I am.
I am a person of extremes. I always have been. A few people are well aware of that. I doubt any of them were of romantic love though. I do not know if I’d ever allow myself to have such a thing. I think the love I give is of loyalty.
All of those I have trusted and loved… have all been given all I could give as a friend. I always made the promise to be always there when needed if it was in my power. Sometimes, that came close to killing me… even to the literal sense.
A moralistic, chivalrous, faithful, stubborn bastard.
Heh.
Even more, I show it in the oddest way. I do not think I preach about morality, but then again I care little for talking to others. Chivalry is not shown exactly; despite I will open doors and let others go first. Faithfulness (loyalty) has always been a downfall for me. Stubborn is easily shown though (it also has been what fueled the loyalty) and bastard is something I’ve always referred to myself since bitch just is not fitting.
I never understood how these standards ever came to being. I could say I guess they had always been there. I’ve been this way ever since I can remember. I know I was loyal anyway back to my early elementary years.
With my friends though…
I never had any ill intent. I never said anything intentionally cruel to them even if they hurt me. I always tried to be civil. Why? I don’t know really, it was just how I was. If they were extremely close to me, I always made the quiet promise that I would always be there if sought out. If able to protect them, I would. If they needed to rant, then I’d sit patiently and listen.
Heh… I remember having two homework assignments I had to get done. A friend called and was crying. There was a dispute with her sister. I dropped all of my homework and dropped by. The fighting went on, but it was less intense with me there. I just… had to fix the problem if possible. She had been crying.
Somewhere in this I said something like, I should probably be better off without relationships that are close. I suppose the reason would be… that all of mine have ended like a fading flower and what I have left are the dried up petals to look at and use to recall.
Kyle is the one who is still around, but it is by a thread. It is very nice though… I appreciate it more than one might understand. I doubt we have as much of an understanding like we once did – sometimes I wonder if we ever really did understand each other like I think we did – but the thing is… he stays in my life and I do not think he has ever abused me. Perhaps that one time could be considered such… but it does not haunt me like others have from various past friends.
Heh… this entry has really turned into a reflection. I never meant for it to. It was to be short. It was to just have the note of getting over my cold, my interest in drawing and that I had two wistful memories. Oh well.
I guess I will get off now.

“Would you find it in your heart
To make this go away
And let me rest in pieces…”

Okay then… can I recollect? My mother asked me to try to write this down, but it has been hours and even just a few minutes after the conversation it was very foggy. Lat me see… It was about my ability to hold a job more or less.

I brought up… something I had noted to her the night before. It was about how I took to school, then college and thus questioned if once I manage to get a job… will it turn out the same? Vague… so can it be elaborated?

I’ve mentioned this to the girls as well. I went to school. I graduated early. Did I care about school though? Did I strive to go to college and get a degree? Not really. I could care less in the terms of wishing. I only “cared” about those things through obligatory ways.

You need to graduate from high school. You need to go to college to have better chances of getting a job you want. Right? That is the gist of things from what I have seen. The thing is though, I lack ambitions and goals. I suppose one could say I lack drive.

I never had an idea for a major. I had no great dream of what I wanted to be when older. I just knew I had to do what I had to do to get by. If that meant school, I’d do it. If that meant college, I’d do it. It goes on.

The thought came along one morning while I was eating soup. It is written in this on April the twelfth even.

“I had managed to complete my junior and senior years in two months and a half. I was not driven to graduate early. I was not some genius who was able to skip years of school. I just wanted it over with. The same would have been for college. I did not want to do it. It was considered a necessity if one wished to get somewhere in life. I intended to go through it like I did with the preliminary schooling. I think I finally came down to the fact that I was utterly miserable, only did things out of obligation and no longer could handle that anymore. I was becoming utterly sick of the whole thing. Back then I remember times I would wonder what life really was. It was all clockwork and would remain clockwork until the batteries died down. That depressed me.”

My mother told me that having a job was not like school. I just needed to find a job that was also something I liked doing. The thing is though what do I actually like doing that could become a possible job?

The therapist I saw on Monday asked me what I did and what I enjoyed doing. That was a hard question for me. What I enjoyed doing…? Enjoy is a funny word. How does one know what enjoyment is? I’ve always lacked the ability to understand and pinpoint such things.

At the moment I am more at peace than I ever have been. I am content and I believe I am rather happy. I never thought I’d say or write such a thing when younger. Well, here I am. The thing is, will that remain later on?

I am a precise, intense and picky person I believe. At least, that is so in regards to things I work with. Kyle for one knows just by the conversations about computer art programs. I suppose that is due to my OCD tendencies if anything. If things do not go to my standards, I become irritable. I’ll try to control it… but if it continues, I will snap. I suppose that is why I could not do in a normal school setting.

I snapped a lot in my last years in regular schooling. I always tried to compensate for the down points by making myself more comfortable. However, such things were not highly acceptable. Some teachers allowed such, others did not. I know such luck will not occur in real life. People will not be so sympathetic in the “real world”.

Examples of what occurred in classrooms was how I spent my free time or even how I made myself comfortable for learning. Rather than sitting in the desk, I often liked to sit on it. Other cases was sitting differently than the others in the classroom.

In seventh grade Honors English class I sat in a desk that was a yard away from all of the others. I just moved there one day. It was not being used. The desk was the sort they used in elementary school classrooms. It was a big rectangular desk with a separated chair. it was right next to the window and I’d sit there somewhat away from all of the others.

In eighth grade I did the same oddity in my Science class. The room was set up for Science and experiments. The “desks” were like long lab tables. There were even sinks that were not usable on them. I moved to the end ledge where people do not sit. Thus, while everyone else was facing forward, I was sitting to look at the wall to the wall counterclockwise of the one they were facing. Both cases, the teachers allowed such.

In high school it was less acceptable, but some allowed me to do my own thing. A science teacher I had in tenth grade for Chemistry – god, I loved her – allowed me to get up when I had free time and draw on her board. she let me draw at my desk on my free time as well. When class was not occurring she allowed me to sit on the desk. I recall another time when the day was more or less a catch-up day I asked if I could sit near a window. The outer part of the room was lined by a long Science table used to do experiments on. It had the sinks as well. She allowed me to.

Another case was my English teacher that year. She was like one of my best friends. I’d stay in the room during lunch time and talk with her. Sometimes she’d try to get me to eat by sharing her lunch with me. Anyway, I always sat next to her desk at a podium that was next to it. She did not seem to mind. Perhaps it was because it kept all of the rowdy kids at bay – because it was not an honors class and a lot of the kids in there were out to do as little work as possible. The teacher mainly was out just to make sure they passed.

She was fine with me going ahead of everyone else. Sometimes I’d be a week ahead of everyone in the English class and would have time to just do whatever because of that. The teacher was fine with that.

I’ve always done best at my own pace, be it slow or fast. When it comes to getting something done I will usually try to get it done as soon and efficiently as I possibly can make it as possible. I like to get things over with.

When I’d get assignments that could be done in a week, I’d get them done the night of the day I had them assigned or at least as soon as I could. When I was allowed to work at my own pace at the alternative school I went break speed and got it over with in less than three months. When asked to do something I will usually do it as soon as asked just to have it done and taken care of.

I go at it intensely… and usually end up tiring myself quite a bit once it is done. I’ve always been considered serious. I’ll agree with that. I suppose that is why I do things as quickly as possible while at the same time making sure it is done to the best of my capabilities. If it is accomplished then I can relax again and not worry. If it is not, then I’ll be wasting time.

I suppose that is humorous for one such as I to say. I mean, am I not the one who is always at home, works my own hours at keeping the house clean and then usually spend the rest of the time on the computer? It is true, but that does not mean I am wasting time. At least, to me I am not.

Like this past week and a half, I’ve been working on this computer. I’ve been putting it in order and trying to make it as close to my standards as possible. I lost sleep, forgot to eat, spent up a lot of energy from concentration and the like. I did not consider it a waste of time. If I were to give up on my conquest and let it be, I then would consider that a waste of time.

Some would say all I do is sit in front of the computer and read. Is that a waste of time? Perhaps. But is it not much similar to those who sit around and read text books for classes? The only difference is that you are being graded on one case. At least, I see it like that on my side.

Why? I read. I gather information. I draw at times and create – something you do in an art class. I’ll teach myself things. I taught myself basics on HTML. Because of that, when in high school, I found Web-mastering utterly boring and restricting because I did not need to know the terms and what the heck HTML stood for. If I am never going to use it, I consider it a waste of time, memory and interest.

Well, that and I lack the ability to remember as well as comprehend names. That never was a strong point of mine. The idea of those who will always remember a face but not a name would be a good analogy. People can talk about something I already know and understand, but the communication is not bridged because they use lingo while I rely on just on hand learning.

I suppose it is due to my particular way of being able to be taught – I’m a visual learner. Words do not process for me that well. Ironic perhaps since I write quite a bit. Then again I know what I am getting at to begin with.

Anyway, I explained many of these things to my mother. Yes, we are getting back at hand here. I ramble too much. Well, we then tried to tap into things I do have an interest in. We came to that I like working with my hands. I like putting things together. I like puzzles. I do not do well with restrictions. I work at my own pace.

With the first three, I gave examples of why I believe. I noted that when I was being analyzed by the psychologist, I enjoyed the testing. I liked doing the puzzles, word associations and the like. I noted I always liked doing that sort of stuff. I had wanted to do small engine repair while in high school, but my schedule would not allows such. Why I wished to was to simply be able to tinker with things using my hands.

I recall doing puzzles, be them jigsaw or game like ones. I explained that I liked doing those because you do not require any specific knowledge or rules. You cannot be taught it step by step. You figure it out on your own. Someone cannot just say, in order to solve this you must start this way, then use such and such mathematical problem, know the date of this, etcetera. It does not require a great, learned knowledge. It requires commonsense and the ability to use it. At least, that is how I view it.

I suppose I also like doing that sort of thing because it is all based on your abilities alone. Sure, once and a while you can ask for help, but it is not something that requires great explanation. I never did well with others trying to explain things to me. It just does not seem to work with how I process information.

I also like analyzing, but to my own accord. I doubt I could put it to use when it is so limited. It has to peek my interest in order for me to want to analyze it, but when I do, I am fervent. I supposed I am a rather… particular individual.

There was another mentioning to my mother. I cannot quite recollect how it came to the conversation, but it was about how I react to things. As known, I will get irritable when things go out of balance of my specifications. Heh, I guess “routine” might be everything to me… even though it is a routine even I have a hard time pinpointing. It is just a nature thing.

Still though, once it is off and if it does not go back into order soon, I do not… meet the standards of how normalcy occurs. I remember hiding under desks at school just to get away even though the form was not quite… rational. I would become utterly irritable. If things would continue on I’d either lash out or inflict something upon myself. That is how I cope.

Like how I am able to work with things, I am also physical in how I cope. I would hit or kick people. I was not vocal. I never did well with words. That is my sister’s department. I lack a slick, stinging tongue. To compensate for that, I react through physical means.

I remember a time at high school when I was in Algebra 2. It was my sophomore year. The Algebra teacher was gone for the day and a substitute was there. The day before there was an assignment. I finished it early as usual and turned it in. She told me to work on something. All of the other students got into groups because they were allowed to.

I did not have anything I could work on in the classroom and I had a pretty tiring day so I just rested there with my head on my desk. That did not do well with the substitute. She insisted I do something. I tried, but what was I to do? I had no homework, I already did my math assignment, I did not have a book to read… I tried drawing, but I was not in the mood. She got onto me again. I tried yet again. Perhaps I’d write. I did not get that far though. I reached for something to write with in my bag, but ended up pulling out a pair of scissors.

That day I started snipping skin off my wrist. There was no slitting, no slicing the veins… I just started taking off small bits of skin. I remember finding the blood absolutely beautiful. The substitute walked past me a couple of times, but did not notice. I found that humorous. She noticed when I was simply resting and yet she did not notice I was making myself bleed. Simply put, I considered her an idiot and continued. I think I noticed the other kids were becoming aware what I was doing, but they did not say anything. I was… very… I just did not care. in my mind I thought, “You wanted me to do something. Are you happy now? I’m doing something! I’m not resting my head on the desk because I am freaking tired and feel sick! No! I am doing what you said! I’m doing something!”

I suppose one could say I was a bit upset. Heh. When the substitute was finally informed… I do not quite remember. The principle or someone like that was obviously informed. They had the class ushered out. There were some adults in there later, but all I remember out of them was my Geometry teacher from the year before. They took the scissors away from me and I was crying, sobbing or something. I was sent home for the day. I remained pretty upset.

Things like that happened before. Back in middle school grades six to eight and then what years I was in regular high school. I did not manage to get the sharp object before though. Still, I had plenty of breakdowns in the middle of a class, I saw one of the school counselors often, and pretty much… Just survived I guess one could call it.

Another thing that was littered about my school career was hitting and kicking people. That was how I dealt with things. I did not know what else to do, and it just came naturally. It was how I vented. Yeah, I wrote often as a venting process, but they did not do a thing for physical venting. Nothing else did as a substitute either. I tried. I did. But putting the adrenaline into exercise or the like did absolutely nothing.

The whole point of that train of thought is, I will likely still be that way whenever stressed. I do not think that will do for whenever I am in a stressed moment and I instinctively/naturally lash out and hurt someone. Nope… you cannot do that. If you do you will be sent to jail for assault.

I know I’ve tried calming myself during those times. That at most postponed. In the end it would come out though. My mom could tell times when I’d be irritable. I do not know well, since it is not of my view point… but I do know whenever I am in such moods I try to leave the room and hideaway until calm again or I ask the person to leave me alone because I do not want to end up doing something I’d regret. Usually it seems just leaving would do the trick… but that would likely only work at home. The other option usually either causes more questions or makes the person being told such to be affronted or something. Simply put, it is not a win situation.

So, what would one be able to do in regards to having a job when he or she is like this?

Sigh. Anyway, I’ll be seeing the therapist again on Monday at five thirty. My dad will be coming down this Friday, perhaps arriving around six. I’m getting off now. I’ve written quite a bit.

While I was eating soup this morning I came to the thought of how I took to school when younger. I had managed to complete my junior and senior years in two months and a half. I was not driven to graduate early. I was not some genius who was able to skip years of school. I just wanted it over with. The same would have been for college. I did not want to do it. It was considered a necessity if one wished to get somewhere in life. I intended to go through it like I did with the preliminary schooling. I think I finally came down to the fact that I was utterly miserable, only did things out of obligation and no longer could handle that anymore. I was becoming utterly sick of the whole thing. Back then I remember times I would wonder what life really was. It was all clockwork and would remain clockwork until the batteries died down. That depressed me.
It does not now. I think I am still in apathy about things. What came to me though was… If I ever get back out into the world again, it will likely be the same things all over again. I’d do what I have to do, push on, and hope for it to be done… Just like school. Only, this will be even longer. This will be… Working until I finally die perhaps.
My mom was in the room at that time. I felt like telling her these thoughts, but she was doing her prayers. Eventually that led to her reading and holding a religious figurine. I thought of asking her if she enjoyed doing what she did. Despite the times of tiredness and the days that are bad… Did she enjoy working? Did she enjoy what her life was like? I remained silent though because I never wish to interrupt others. I believe that was a sort of fault when I recollect how I would leave Kyle in a classroom whilst he was talking to someone and I decided to go.
Anyway, I could not contain all of these thoughts while waiting on my mother to finish. By then I’d likely forget all I wanted to say and remember. Therefore I rose and made a beeline for here to type this down.
I like my life right now. That is something I had never said before in my past. When I was little, when I was in elementary, when I was in middle school, high school, and college… I do not believe I ever uttered or wrote those words before. Now I am. How long will it last though? Perhaps I am being selfish. I wonder if I am lazy. My sister is working her way through college. My brother has a job. My parents both work hard. I merely stay home and look after the house. I sleep my own hours, eat on my own terms, and clean the house on my own time. That is a damn good life. I will not deny that. I am content with it.
The problem is… I still consider obligations. I still consider how I “should” live. I “should” go to college, or I “should” get a job outside the home. I am sure I could. I just wonder how long I’d go when it comes to that round. I know college did not last that long, but then again it was pretty much the same as my preliminary schooling. Well, I have not had a job yet, so I do not know if it will turn out. If the future does end up with me working at a job and I find myself reacting to it as I have done with other things that are “required”… Then my future will be a bleak one. It would likely depress me too.

I read an entry in Kyle’s journal. Psychology in regards of control was the main topic. The example was rape. The topic always was something of intrigue I suppose. Oddly, thoughts he wrote were something I had considered a long time ago. It is quite logical.

Still though, for a person such as I, there is symbolism, sentimentality and all of that lovey-dovey nonsense. Amusing when I think on it along with the story I have mentioned from time to time in this journal. Power and weakness, dominance and submission tend to be a theme throughout. Sometimes it seems that it connects with my past, but then that is just me needed to make silly connections for the fun of it.

Power. The word causes me to think of manipulation. The other night it was mentioned in a conversation. Before it ended though, enough was said to make me quiet. Humans are strange creatures.

Defense mechanisms and how they give people power… it is rather sad I think. I know my key word of power and defense. It is vagueness. My friend’s is manipulation. I suppose it is saddening on both accounts. The thought of having someone I care about manipulating me without my even realizing is considerably depressing. It causes me to think of my girls actually. Small world, I suppose.

When I ponder on it even more, I suppose I am just as bad. Though vagueness is not really manipulating, it is still a fault. You only let the person see the cover and not the book. Perhaps that is something similar to manipulation. That is depressing.

I suppose the lighter end though is that I have people I do not do that with. With Kyle, if I ever was vague I likely never realized. It was later some of it was on purpose – shields and the like. I think I used to be very open with my mother. I probably still am. I am not certain if I am vague with her now. I do not think I am. Then there are Eileen and Erin. I am open with them much like how I was with Kyle. The four people stated relatively only receive vagueness when it is something unimportant like when I have an odd thought that is irrelevant.

What more on this topic is… it is a pity humans cannot be like it is with animals. Animals are truthful. You can easily talk to a pet. You can tell when the animal is leery, happy, wanting attention, wanting to be left alone… Ha… I suppose that is why it is so easy to be easy going with my pet. I can easily say I love him. There is no fear of judgment. I think I feel almost exactly that way with Eileen and Erin as well, truthfully. Soul siblings. Heh.

Neither was on tonight, which saddened me. Instead, I was in the chat. I did not stay long though. Owen, a video game freak, and I did not mesh well tonight. He irked me and after such a long time of simple emotions, I became utterly irritable and annoyed with him. Adrenaline surged and stomach acid built up. I made myself sick over him. Either he was enjoying egging me on, or he was utterly oblivious and stupid. I fear it was likely the latter; therefore, I cannot give much fault. I really wished one of the girls were there though. It would have been of comfort.

Well, I think I should go to bed despite I lack the feeling of tiredness. For any other news, I will see the psychiatrist on the seventh. I hope it goes well.

~The Vampire Owl. (Whoot.)

I spent my day researching again. I had stayed up all night last night and looked about on information of an old story comprised of three volumes, perhaps even four due to translated copies for other countries. To my demise, it has never reached America, thus it is quite difficult. It is hard even to find it second handed. It came out in the seventies though, so that adds on to my hard search. Foreign and from the seventies – boy I am interested in the hard to obtain things. Nevertheless, I always have found searching a hobby.

To my happiness, I found episodes based on the story. It is comprised of thirty-nine. I was able to find subtitled versions of the last four episodes, which you cannot even buy from English subbing distributors. I mainly cared for the ending, thus there is content.

Heh. I am becoming more feminine it seems. This observation is due to my easiness to succumb to tears when moved. Well, not tears, but watery eyes. It is a beautiful feeling.

Along with that, I have also discovered that I am easily inspired. Whenever I read, watch or endure something that pulls at my heartstrings… I have a joy that fills my heart and I feel wonderfully content as though on a natural high. I experienced that today often.

One of the reasons to my high was reading something Kyle wrote in his journal. He seemed happy. In fact, the way he talked actually reminded me of how I was before the move…. Hope for the future and peace with the past. I laugh when the thought stops abruptly when I think of how he was the very person who shattered that for a while and caused me to be fearful and wish to hide again.

There is additional information as well… due to recent events he had undergone something perhaps similar to what I went through before my transition – two days of pain due to relations with another. I do not think we went in the same order though, cycle wise. Seeing such causes me to wonder if human life really is so easily ordered… then again, I will just blame it on my old connection theory.

For transition, my thoughts soon drifted to Denise, a good friend of my younger years. She had been absent from my life for some years and before that absence, there had been tension. In the few conversations we have shared since after my move… I found a swelling pride fill my chest from how much she had grown up. Yes, I sound like an old person, but… I suppose I always have been such a way.

Intellectually and observatory abilities had been high in my share… or so people tell me for some odd reason. I however was quite suppressed in maturing emotionally. Either way, I always had felt old when around my friends, minus Kyle, I suppose. With Brooke and Denise, I felt like a parent with two quarreling kids. Trying, annoying, fun and memorable it was, nevertheless.

When I think of such things, I remember my dreams from the past. I am not certain if I ever really had outlandish ones when younger… Perhaps as a fanciful elementary child, I had such dreams, but I cannot remember that far.

My first one was to keep my closest of friends past schooling years. I found that improbable, however. People move on and lose contact. Well, those who had impacted my life the most, which means few, are still in contact with me. Not all are, but some are. So far, that dream seems to be carrying out. Here is hope for its future.

The second was to find someone I could connect with deeply and be able to keep the friendship going. It is a half and half I suppose when thinking on it amusedly. I have found those in transitioning periods of my life. We never did stay remarkably close as we had in the beginning, but we still know the other is there and there is a quiet understanding that I believe will always linger.

One that has been held deep in my heart though would be to find someone to share my life with… to live my life with and live his or hers with. To be frank, I am not talking about a lover or whatever such nonsense. Okay, it is not drivel, I suppose, but it is not a priority high on my list. I do not know if it ever will be either.

I remember my friends ask about dating. I remember seeing them dating. I remember hearing about them dating. I know who had sex and what period of his or her life it has been. I remember witnessing heartaches, anger and highs. I consider love a beautiful thing. It can be painful, but it is truly a beautiful thing. I just never cared to look for the sort I see others look for.

I have never cared about dating, for sex or to find someone to wed/bond with. I will never quite understand why though. I muse sometimes if it is because I am so used to being one who lives in a sort of solitude. A “sort” because I do not feel lonely. Perhaps I did when younger, but… something about growing up, listening, watching and experiencing… I am content.

I have been living down here for just a month and a half from what I surmise. I live in a structure that lacks structure and can do it with no worries since I am in this world and not the outside world. I suppose I always will be one to lack awareness of the outside. I am quite… misplaced beyond my private ways. Despite that, I have become utterly content now.

From around sixth grade until my ending of my second college semester I had always been stressed, tired, worried and perhaps unhappy. I found my joys, as I have only simple needs for pleasure, on occasion to occasion… The ups and downs, the whole shah-bang. After moving, though… I smile at the thought of how I am now.

I am told my brow has ceased knotting and I smile more… that I truly look happy. Truthfully, I am. I can actually say that I am happy… and for once, it does not bother me. That only makes me smile more. I have the simple life that perhaps has always been a dream I held since even a kindergartener. Yes, even back then I lacked the simplicity and calmness I possess now.

I had panic attacks back in my elementary years… perhaps even as far back as to first grade. I had always handled stress terribly and often would be discouraged, I believe. I always have a fondness for joking that my sister is to blame nowadays when perhaps five years earlier from this day I would has sobbed it out with deep meaning and pain. I had three years of emotional hell in middle school and began cutting along with breaking down. I found out then what panic attacks were and those were what I had suffered from often since young age. High school was the final layer of the cake. I had more breakdowns, deeper cutting, and despair with the wish to die when at my bleakest of moments…

Now I am here.

I thought earlier, when tending to the laundry that I felt a soft gratefulness that Kyle had called that night those few years ago. I never would have found this feeling… Heh, I never would have met Eileen or Erin either. I cannot help but find that amusing.

Either way, it is tonight I remembered that dream of living a simple life. I had forgotten it apparently. It came to me though when I was coming back to this very room before I started typing this. I do not remember who I had told the dream to, for I know I told someone, but it was a beautiful vision…

A languid day, the house is shadowy, in a calming way. The setting sun’s rays cascade delicately through the windows. I am sitting on a kitchen table and gaze outside. I am at peace… and it is beautiful.

I stepped outside earlier in the day… perhaps near the lunch hour and sat down in a chair under the “patio” that leads to the small yard. I was merely letting the dog out, but decided to rest there since he usually wants back in when I am in the opposite side of the house. I lounged there for some minutes and found myself singing. It reminded me of childhood.

As said, I am the type who keeps to oneself. When younger I just needed a swing and I would be content. I remember spending all recess swinging and singing to myself. It never occurred to me that those playing below could hear me as I sang my heart out. Simply put, it really ruffled me one day when a boy sat down in a swing beside me and told me to sing. I chuckle at that.

I think… I think I am somewhat reverting. I am becoming simpler. I just wonder how long this will last…

… and that of course reminds me of a song that could perhaps be called my theme.

…’Cause I have found
All that shimmers in this world is sure to fade
Away again…

The feeling I received from that seems to be with me now… and it is wonderful.

Oh… and I need a haircut.

~The Vampire Sheep Who is One with the Duck

I was in the shower tonight after dusting the house. Yeah, yeah, midnight and I am dusting. I, being flighty in thoughts, was thinking about the fairy tale Beauty and the Beast. Yeah, odd thought.

It started out with how it was sad that the only animated version that had really put effort in getting the story recognized was almost nothing like the actual fable. Come on! It lost the moral! The moral was to not judge before you know. The Disney version gave off the idea for girls to go after mean and tough guys and that she will be able to change him into a sweet and caring guy. That usually leads to abusive relationships Disney, good job. The thought carried on though. The real story, about how one can easily judge before knowing, learning and the like.

Anyway, I started thinking about high school – yeah, flighty – even though I missed half of the “regular” high school settings. Want to know what I remembered most? Discrimination. Sad, but that was what I thought of. The biggest things that shot through my mind glaringly were sexual orientation and religion. It is amazing how the two coincide in arguments in school and out.

These days, homosexuality is really noted. It is no longer hush-hush. You see (idiot) TV shows about it, movies with it, see people rally in support or oppose it, and politicians use it. What always would grate my nerves was how people would use “gay” or “fag” so offhandedly now. Back when I was in middle school, it did not happen in such a way. When you said it, it was intentional and hurtful and could really “ruin” your reputation. Mainly it was irritating. I would know.

That led to the idea of tolerance. I am not saying change. I say tolerate. People are stubborn and egotistical creatures no matter what they say. Perhaps it is mainly America though. Back to the homosexuality, there is little to no tolerance. There is acceptance or opposition. There is no gray area.

Where I lived my childhood to adolescent years, homosexuality is utter sin! Heaven forbid! In comes religion. The town was highly religious and mainly Baptist. I have nothing wrong with Christianity. I just have a problem with most of the Christians I have met. Why is that? “Because God said so.” That phrase is a weak argument, no offense, but it is. People say that, but have no other argument to back him or her up other than that he or she just “does not agree” or “thinks it is wrong”.

Well, if that is all a person has to argue with, he or she is plain ignorant in my book – not stupid, but ignorant. If you know nothing about the topic, then keep your mouth shut. The phrase “walk in another man’s shoes” comes to mind. I admit, I have not encountered as much discrimination in terms of sexuality, but I have had my share. How I know about it is due to my race and by being something of an outcast.

That is the thing about discrimination; it is always about the outcast. The Holocaust was mainly about the Germans trying to redeem themselves and getting out of their debt and such, but much of it was done using discrimination – a superior race. It is just like that today, but is not so “apparent”, if you ask me.

In a history class, year 1969, in Palo Alto, California, had an incident regarding discrimination due to an experiment concerning the Holocaust. People think such things cannot happen today, not here in America… well, it does. Thing is, people turn the other cheek even if he or she knows it is wrong. Others are the ones who do the discrimination. Then there are those who try to fight against it.

Holocaust, why did not anyone do anything or say anything? How could such a terrible thing have gone on when people knew it was happening? Usually the person is afraid, he or she turns the other cheek, or is caught up in the belief. People will silence people. Some will think it is out of right reasons, but… they can be of utterly wrong ones.

Another example is the Salem Witch Trials. They started out from discrimination. They also started out with those who were outcasts. If I were of that time, I would likely have been the first to be called a witch. The ones targeted at first were women who could heal with remedies. They were perhaps considered odd or were loners. Some might have talked to his or herself. Either way, if you were eccentric, you could easily become a target.

It has occurred in America ever since the beginning to now. Women, races that were not English, et cetera were all suppressed or discriminated against. Civil rights, Women’s Rights, end of segregation, the right to vote and many other changes had occurred slowly and had fought hard battles. There is still fighting. Not only for those cases though.

There is the noted Pearl Harbor case. Japanese were suddenly enemies, even those born in the United States. They were put into camps. It was not as bad as the Holocaust, but it was still something of the same principle.

Nowadays, there are still religion wars. It is not as bad as the Crusades where people were impaled for a “righteous cause”, but there still are arguments. America is said to be the land of the free. I suppose it is, but there is still lack of tolerance. It is said that you can practice any religion. That is true, but there is still discrimination.

America is mainly Christian. In fact, most would likely see America to be Christian. Most of the people expect you to be Christian. It is hilarious though. People escaped England to go to America to practice their religion freely. Well, now it is somewhat the same as it was back in England many years ago. Sure, you are not put in prison for it, but there are people who will go against someone not of the “right” religion.

With different beliefs in religion, there is violence. People will shove his or her beliefs down your throat. People will decide what is right and wrong based upon their beliefs. They determine their own sense of justice. When one convinced that he or she is right, the person will want to impose his or her convictions upon others, perhaps trying to do the world a favor.

Those are well meaning intentions, I am sure, but they make America just like the past England. I recall my eighth grade Spanish class. We were discussing Catholicism. As said, the place I lived in is mainly Baptist. In the end, the teacher asked for what religion people followed. In the end everyone but me raised hands on Baptist, but you could not simply count to tell that everyone had. I lacked raising my hand since I never was Baptist and by then I was not really of Christian beliefs. When she asked if anyone was Catholic, I was going to just sit there. No one raised their hands.

Well, me being me… that really irked me. “Sheep,” was the word I thought, actually. In the end, after there was a long silence and the teacher was surprised that “everyone” was Baptist, I raised my hand. I was raised in a Catholic family, even though it is mainly just my mom. She is the only one who goes to church and the like, but she is very accepting to others beliefs and choices. Much to my surprise, I even remembered things about the Catholic ways. The crossing of the heart – The Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost thing, I never realized that was only Catholic. I did not know that going to Mass was a “weird” term to those who were Baptists. What I did know though, was that every kid in that class thought such acts were weird or stupid. It made me proud for raising my hand.

Voicing one’s belief is fine. Telling others that he or she is wrong because the person’s belief system is not like yours is not fine. That is what is so irritating. When someone tries to condemn others who do not believe exactly what he or she thinks they should is just annoying.

That is not the entire point of this though. So far, this is all along the lines of groups and that is just stereotyping then. No, this goes deeper to individuality. I am not bashing Christians or those who are not gay. By god, I know those who are on the other side are just as bad.

An example would be some guys in my life. One of my brothers, for example, is very opinionated. He preaches and he will shove his beliefs down your throat. He can make a Christian feel bad, frustrated, irritated or angry… even someone who is not a Christian… pretty much anyone who is under a religion goes under the category. His views are fine by me, I am not very religious myself… but having him shove it down throats is irksome.

Another example deals with homosexuality. I have encountered my share of people on the net and real life who are just as bad as the people who put them down. Some are showy, exhibitionists and can be just as callous. I have seen those who feel they have to prove something. What is up with those of homosexual relationships who feel like they must make out in front of others? It is just as annoying and tacky as a heterosexual couple doing it in public as well.

As stated before, I am against how words like “gay”, “fag”, and “queer” are used so freely in schools nowadays and teachers will allow it. Despite that, I am still against certain homosexual people. I have met my share of those who think they are better than me because he or she is of a sexual orientation different from me.

I have even endured assholes that were the opposite sex, but homosexual, who badmouthed my body because I was not the same sex as him. Sorry you are not into my body’s formation, but do not be that way towards those who cannot help being a certain sex. That is being hypocritical really. He complains about how people say that homosexuality is a choice and not what a person is born as. Well, my case is, I was born a certain way without a choice either.

The main point of this long-winded essay is that people judge before even knowing. This is not simply about religion, sexuality, or other debatable subjects of similar flare. This is about judging people not as a whole, but as an individual. Labels, stereotypes, groupings, cults… If one is like that, all under that particular thing is like that. I am sorry, but that is bull. All sides are different. All people are different. People make up these different groups.

Therefore, do not stereotype. Do not assume. Do your research before making a decision – no not simply research on your side, but also on the other man’s side. Do not be ignorant. Sad thing is though, that is the human race for you… or maybe it is mainly America. (You do notice the stereotype there, right? Ha!)

~ The Vampire Sheep has spoken.