The Object

I'm home. It's 10:05 PM on a Tuesday as I write this, which means I should probably be doing something more useful than posting here or playing useless games on Sporcle. However, this is what I am doing. I cut and straightened my hair today. It definitely feels better to have hair that doesn't get affected by the summer's humidity, but I am still not allowed to wear contacts. My doctor said that due to the bacterial shit that's going on with my eyes, I'm only allowed to wear contacts again on Thursday. I am freaking out. There's an object on my face. I can see it. I see its rims. The lens gives me a headache. I can feel it there - just sitting - perched on my nose as if it has any right to be there. I love my glasses, they're stylish and all - but wearing them 24/7 is driving me insane.

I'm going to go try to distract myself from the object perched on my nose.

A Moment of Lunacy

I'm joining NaNoWriMo.

As if I already didn't have enough things to do.

My brother told me about this writing "competition" where people sit down and write a 50,000 word novel in one month. If they can do it, they send in their novel and get a certificate. If they can't... well, tough. At least they have the start of a novel of their own.

So either way it's pretty cool. NaNoWriMo = National Novel Writing Month. For some reason, the worst month (at least for me) was chosen. November. I never have less free time than in November. But my brother convinced me, so I'm doing it.

I'm supposed to only start on November 1, but it's okay if I write an outline and come up with characters and stuff before then. I did that today. I'm downloading this word processor thing called Scrivener and I'm starting as soon as it's not considered cheating.

I doubt that I'll even get to 10,000 words. But it's definitely worth a try.

Good luck me.

12:22 AM: It's Now Monday Morning.

And yet another week begins.

Every time I think I'm back on my feet, I fall again. When I think I have it all under control, I remember one other thing I still have to do. Is peace so impossible to attain?

I finished my book. I read Drew Lerman's Magic City in September and October. I wish I could have finished it faster but there's just no time. It was a really good novel, and it was probably the first one I finished in years. How sad. There are so many books in my reading lineup. I bought the newest Princess Diaries the other day; it felt wrong not to. I read the first nine books, why not read the tenth? I wonder if I'm too old for it. I wonder if I'll still like it. It's not exactly literature to think about. Then again, it feels like a sin if I don't read it.

It's late and probably time for me to go to bed. I got home from the party at the time that I usually wake up to go to school. It's a little depressing, actually, to get home when it's light outside and you can hear birds chirping. It makes me feel all out of sync.

I'm going to sleep to see if I can dream about something nice. I sure as hell need it.

Show

Why is it that when you wish someone would do something, they don't?
To show they care. Or something. Or anything.
Any miserable little thing.

Would be enough at this point.

You're obsessed with him, aren't you?

But he doesn't exist.

Drama...

It is a film genre. It is a part of life. It is the annoyance of some and the foundation of others. It is personality, it is exaggeration, it is love and it is hate. It is formally defined as exciting, emotional, or unexpected series of events or set of circumstances. It is also defined as a play for theater, radio, or television. At the same time, this word is an oxymoron; it is false and it is real at the same time.

Most people have seen a movie or a play before, so it is a well-known fact that the intricate and sometimes delusional stories displayed to us are usually not true. For some reason it is extremely entertaining to follow the life stories of fictional characters that have never existed and never will exist. Sometimes these stories are based on true facts but usually are taken completely from the creative minds of storytellers who transform their ideas into screenplays and storyboards.

The daily life of a person is even more complicated and detailed than those of the characters onscreen. In fact, there are 6,697,229,900 completely different life stories in this world. The daily drama of a fourteen-year-old studious child may be the low grade she got on her quiz while halfway across the world another person of the exact same age is suffering from a serious disease and has other problems to worry about. Each person has their own type of daily drama, some more serious than others, but drama nevertheless. The quotidian dramatic issues that exist in the life of every single human being in this world is nothing but reality, the pure and sometimes even harsh truth.

Distinguishing fantasy from reality seems to be the easiest job in the world, however it may not be as banal a job as some might think. It is evident that there is a fine line between life onscreen and real life, however some people find themselves subconsciously (or even consciously) attached to things that do not exist. There are cases of people who find themselves obsessed with fictional characters. This is definitely crossing the line between reality and fiction. A woman even stated her case and asked for help online to whoever may read it. She claims to be obsessed with the character of Edward Cullen, from the popular book series (now major motion pictures) Twilight. “But you know the character Edward Cullen, well, for some reason I feel attached.” She asked questions in desperation in order to find out if this is normal and why this is happening to her.

An author named Mary-Lou Galician highlighted this issue in a book of hers, Research and Theories of Mass Media Effects on Individuals and Society. In this book she mentions, “Obsession with fictional characters can cause emotionally disabling attachments filled with anxiety, fantasy and over-dependence.” This can become a problem for a lot of women, because if it happens in a high degree it may damage their relationships in real life. Their expectations become too high and their dependence on men may increase as well. Idealization begins to happen, making women desire romances they read about or see in movies, therefore developing an extremely unrealistic idea about what is real love. In some cases, the person might actually develop depression because their ideal partner does not exist.

This is a perfect example of how fictitious drama overlaps with reality. It can become a serious problem in a few cases but as long as this “obsession” with a fictional character does not get in the way of the person’s daily life, it is perfectly normal.  Among teenagers it is very common to have crushes on characters they see on films or television shows, as well as characters from books. They are portrayed as perfect individuals, making more and more people fall in love with them. A perfect example of this is the latest drama in the teen movie world – Edward Cullen, a vampire that is portrayed as a mystical and perfect creature in Stephenie Meyers’s Twilight book series. While this may be a normal thing for now, it is uneasy to imagine to what extent this obsession will expand and how many more girls will be succumbed by this artificial love affair.

            

The Library

A girl is at a library and quietly asks the librarian:

"Excuse me,  could you tell me where the bathroom's at?"

The librarian looked at the girl condescendingly, and in a rather impolite tone replied:

"Miss, in this library, we don't end our sentences with prepositions."

"Alright," said the girl. "Could you tell me where the bathroom's at, bitch?"

Gravity?

I don't believe in gravity.

With gravity there's no imagination, and I can't take my feet off the ground.

It's rather cloudy where my head is, but I can still see the sun.

Which is more than I can say for you. 

I've got the dreamer's disease and there's no cure. I realized that today, as my mind travelled out of the classroom windows directly to the cold outside. My hand wandered around my notebook, not taking notes, but jotting down whatever came to my head first. I heard the word "gravity" being thrown around among the people who were actually paying attention, so I wrote it down. GRAVITY? What do we need gravity for? 

Why do I have to be the down-to-earth, practical and efficient machine that I'm being bred to be? That's what we're all bred to be. We are raised in an environment where we need to focus on what they tell us to, and the kid next to us is competition. I don't want to compete. Why can't we all just share our ideas and create something amazing? Isn't that what brings the human race forward? If all teenagers are machines that are made to function in the exact same efficient manner, then who is going to be the one kid to invent something that will change the world?

I don't want to be part of the machine-making. I don't want to be one of the machines. That's why I choose to defy the gravitational pull of the system, without failing out of it, and do my own thing. Imagine where we would be if schools decided to have a larger focus on creativity and imagination? We could go far.

And then you wonder why the human mind is so limited.

Exploiting Literature

I hate analyzing literature. No, I'm lying: I hate overanalyzing literature. I'll buy coffee, or, dream big: I'll buy PIZZA for whoever shares with me the LOGIC behind sitting in a room and attempting to interpret the reason why the author placed a comma where he placed it or why he chose one word instead of another. It makes it really hard to appreciate the novel. The themes, symbols, and metaphors make the text richer and more meaningful, and I'm all for that, but there's no reason to pick at them like they're a piece of lettuce stuck between teeth. The mere act of searching for symbolism is like searching for a significant other: it kills the whole experience.

For example, when people want to find a date and use online dating services (or any kind of service) to do so, it becomes something unnatural. You're forcing love based on similar tastes and traits, you're not feeling it through chemistry or a natural attraction. You would basically be forcing yourself to fall in love. It's the same with incessantly searching for metaphors and symbols in books. If the author wants you to see it, it will be there. Right there. You shouldn't have to sound like you're on an LSD trip when you're talking about what you think one word could mean. Let's be honest here; if you write a 50,000 word novel you're not thinking about what each individual word could mean in a thousand different interpretations. Forcing yourself to find meaning kills the whole purpose of that meaning being there.

A theme or an idea that is planted in a text is not there to be dug up, extracted, and exploited like gold in a virgin land. It is there to leave behind an effect, or an aftertaste of the idea; the true essence of something the author strongly believes in. If the reader becomes psycho about finding things that might not even be there, they'll miss the point. 

And to think that during that wasted time they could be reading another book, or falling in love.

Let's Get Together and Squeeze the Cute

What's so endearing about something that is cute?

I got home today and my little maltese puppy ran and danced around me like it was some sort of ritual. She worships me. I looked at her tiny eyes and her furry face that seemed like it was smiling at me, and at that moment I thought: nothing in this entire world is cuter than this. 

Then I started thinking: what makes something "cute?" Why are some animals simply naturally cute? Humans definitely aren't cute. Well, they are until a certain age, then they go through awkward phases with hair and teeth all over the place. Then humans may even become beautiful, but it is hard to find a "cute" adult human. My dog is an adult. She's considered fully grown, four years old, but she still looks like a tiny squeezable puppy. She is so adorable that I actually clench my teeth when I see her.

But this is so weird! Why is she cute? WHY? I simply can't understand. I can't help but think it's something internal, that it's in my own brain, that her cuteness comes from the way I perceive her.

Also, why do we feel like we need to squeeze cute things? Why. Are. They. So. Squeezable. 

That's just something I'll never understand.

Let's See How Long This Lasts

I am actually hoping this one's a keeper. Ever since I was a little girl I've had this creation instinct. Alright, I'm making it sound fancier than it should be. Basically, I get into project mode. What project mode means is that I stop everything I'm doing (or should be doing) and start a project, like a scrapbook or photoshopped pictures to hang on my wall or, well, a blog. I've had blogs before. All were anonymous, I made up some cheesy name, posted fictional stories and refused to let anyone know that they existed. That was a few years ago, and now project mode hit again. I'm hoping that since this one is under my real name I will actually start posting more.

Maybe I'm just wasting precious sleep hours, who knows. We'll see in a few weeks.