I think of topics I want to write about during the month/week/day and then promptly forget when I write...Some bloggers are better than I obviously LOL.
So today is just a bleh blog.
I had a good day though, probably because I was actually out of the house for most of the day instead of cooped up in my room, by myself. And I find I'm really tired so I think I'm going to wash up and rest my head for the night. I may wake up earlier in the morning than I'd like, but we shall see.
Have a good day? Tell me why in the comments :)
Sunday, 3 September 2017
Saturday, 2 September 2017
Trapped Inside
I'm vlogging every day in September. I've also decided to blog every day in September, so hopefully this will go well.
I looked up a writing prompt and the title is the first one that popped up on Google. Well, the actual prompt is:
This wasn’t the first time I had been trapped inside a _________ , but it was the first time I had to escape in order to save a life. Here’s what happened.
I won't be...creatively writing though, I'll just be writing what I think of the idea.
Being trapped inside. Figuratively and literally for me.
Figuratively in the sense that I feel pressured to do something with my life, by people around me but also by my own person, my own thoughts. I'm only 24 (25 in 2.5 months) and I don't have anything I'm especially passionate about or something I want to do for a long time.
Literally because I'm (not supposed to be) living in a 55+ community. (I've mentioned this before in my I Moved... post I'm sure but) When my family and I moved down to the States, my parents weren't able to get a mortgage, and the only possible accommodation they could buy and afford was a mobile home in an enclosed space for elderly people...Technically, 35 years olds are also allowed to live here, but I am 10 years young as well as my sister. The contract they signed to buy this place stated that anyone younger than 35 was not allowed to live on the premises. Yet here we are. My sister has been living here much longer than I have and she doesn't care about walking out the front door. I on the other hand am distressed with the idea of walking out the door in case someone tells the property manager/owner about us living here. So I just stay in my room for most of my time. It's not like I'm not doing anything, I'm just not moving much.
There isn't even much walking distance around here so getting a job for me would be difficult: civilization literally takes 40-60 minutes to get to and I'm not about that life. Yes, I'm lazy and that's a not-so-good personality trait to have, but I have it anyway. If I got a job that required me to be there earlier on off days, I wouldn't be able to. It takes me 2-3 hours to psyche myself up to get ready and out the door, and sometimes when I plan to go to the mall, I don't even do that because I think about how much of a nuisance it would be. Trust me, I've done it before, spent 7 hours out and walked everywhere the entire time. The next few days afterwards, I was in bed all day because of how worn out I was from walking.
Now I'm complaining. Woot.
I'm actually sitting in the hallway because it's cooler than my room (which gets the setting sun and therefore gets hot as balls in the late afternoon/evening). And everyone is out so I'm not in anyone's way.
So yeah. I do want to look for a job though; I'm spending some money here and there every once in a while, and it will accumulate until I don't have anything left in my savings eventually. Should be fun. T-T
I looked up a writing prompt and the title is the first one that popped up on Google. Well, the actual prompt is:
This wasn’t the first time I had been trapped inside a _________ , but it was the first time I had to escape in order to save a life. Here’s what happened.
I won't be...creatively writing though, I'll just be writing what I think of the idea.
Being trapped inside. Figuratively and literally for me.
Figuratively in the sense that I feel pressured to do something with my life, by people around me but also by my own person, my own thoughts. I'm only 24 (25 in 2.5 months) and I don't have anything I'm especially passionate about or something I want to do for a long time.
Literally because I'm (not supposed to be) living in a 55+ community. (I've mentioned this before in my I Moved... post I'm sure but) When my family and I moved down to the States, my parents weren't able to get a mortgage, and the only possible accommodation they could buy and afford was a mobile home in an enclosed space for elderly people...Technically, 35 years olds are also allowed to live here, but I am 10 years young as well as my sister. The contract they signed to buy this place stated that anyone younger than 35 was not allowed to live on the premises. Yet here we are. My sister has been living here much longer than I have and she doesn't care about walking out the front door. I on the other hand am distressed with the idea of walking out the door in case someone tells the property manager/owner about us living here. So I just stay in my room for most of my time. It's not like I'm not doing anything, I'm just not moving much.
There isn't even much walking distance around here so getting a job for me would be difficult: civilization literally takes 40-60 minutes to get to and I'm not about that life. Yes, I'm lazy and that's a not-so-good personality trait to have, but I have it anyway. If I got a job that required me to be there earlier on off days, I wouldn't be able to. It takes me 2-3 hours to psyche myself up to get ready and out the door, and sometimes when I plan to go to the mall, I don't even do that because I think about how much of a nuisance it would be. Trust me, I've done it before, spent 7 hours out and walked everywhere the entire time. The next few days afterwards, I was in bed all day because of how worn out I was from walking.
Now I'm complaining. Woot.
I'm actually sitting in the hallway because it's cooler than my room (which gets the setting sun and therefore gets hot as balls in the late afternoon/evening). And everyone is out so I'm not in anyone's way.
So yeah. I do want to look for a job though; I'm spending some money here and there every once in a while, and it will accumulate until I don't have anything left in my savings eventually. Should be fun. T-T
Friday, 1 September 2017
I Might Be Depressed
I'm not diagnosed with depression. I don't take medication for it. But I've been feeling emotional for a while now and I'm not sure how to deal with it. I don't have anyone to tell about this so I'm turning to my blog, clearly. (I don't like how I missed writing a post last month \: )
No one from my real life reads this? At least I hope not. There's a lot I've been doing in the last couple-ish months that I'm not comfortable sharing with anyone, that I haven't shared with anyone except for one person. But even then, I'm not getting comfort or advice.
I made a second Twitter account in I think it was this past June. I created it to be a miscellaneous account, one for my writing and also for some game apps I play on my phone. It was to be an outlet where I could say whatever I wanted instead of using my main, personal account. As the days went on, it turned into an 18+/NSFW account. I hadn't planned for it to become that way, but I reply tweeted to one of Pornhub's tweets and it kinda blew up...I didn't start getting influxes of DMs until a few weeks after though.
Then, I got attached. Quickly. It was the scariest thing that has probably ever happened to me other than experiencing my dad's rage, but maybe even more scarier because it was happening inside of me, not because of an exterior, seeable thing. I told myself I couldn't form crushes on people because they were far away (east coast N. America, the UK, and Australia mainly), but it kept happening: once briefly with one person and now with another person that has lasted since...a month and a half now.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that time goes very slowly there. I had been chatting with a man for what seemed like months when it only turned out to be a couple weeks. He had that much of an effect on me. Plus, now I've only had that account for about 2 months when it feels like I've been tweeting on it and interacting with people for much longer. I ended up breaking the guy's trust, a silly prank (I thought it was funny, he did not), and we haven't been the same since then. He used to wake me up with good mornings and make me orgasm multiple times gorgeously every time, but it's not like that at all anymore. I inwardly torture myself for a message from him. I've dreamt about him...I don't think he regards me in the same manner.
But there are other guys who probably think about me that way, which is odd because I don't think I'm anything special.
Words can only go so far.
At one point early on in our messages, the guy I've now fallen for told me he can't be with me for emotional support as much as he'd like to be. He said I needed to find that support with other people, to keep up with the relationships I have, to not stray away from reality. Let's just say my reality is really bleak right now, boring, uneventful. I looked forward to talking to him every day. I still do. But I've come to realize I shouldn't. One day we might meet, but for right now, it's just a fantasy. A dream. I'm not reality.
Messaging is like that: you can log out, turn off notifications, ignore. I logged out of my account all day yesterday, checked it this morning briefly because I was really horny, replied to some messages, then logged out to watch porn and make myself cum. I've still logged out.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that there's always someone. It's worldwide. You say good night to one person, you say good morning to another. I have spent entire days chatting with people before, and that was...Not something I'd do again.
I want to tell my mom about it. About everything. After thinking I wouldn't tell anyone, tonight, as I was sitting at the dining table with my parents, I thought I wanted to tell her. I wanted to cry. Because I was scared what she'd think of me.
I was raised going to church. I was told to always bring a future boyfriend home to meet my dad. I was told to get married before sex. Sex wasn't brought up. Contraception was never brought up. I started masturbating (in secret) with a vibrating back massager when I was somewhere between 10 and 14, and one day I couldn't find it anymore. Obviously it wasn't so secret to either my mom or dad. Yet neither of them brought it up with me or my sister. Like it was a sin to pleasure yourself.
Years later, like only about a year ago, I was going through my mom's things, looking for something, when I found a vibrator in her bedside table. Talk about yuck, but I was shocked. Maybe I shouldn't have been. I may have told this story before but once I asked my mom if she would mind if I dated someone casually. She said no, and that answer surprised me too, because of all the aforementioned at the beginning of this paragraph.
I once also found out she had been flirting with a man that wasn't my dad on one of her free online messaging apps. It was the dumbest situation too: she was in Korea on a trip for a conference and she had suddenly texted me to delete the app from her laptop. I thought it was weird, I asked her why, but she said to just do it. Obviously I got curious so I looked up some messages first. I was so devastated, I cried for two days. What's more, I think my dad had also seen the messages. I don't know what happened after that, but I loathed living with her for a long time. I still do. I don't trust her at all.
She's a woman. Obviously she needed some kind of relief, some kind of pleasure in her life when she didn't have any (really trying not to think about her and my dad having sex, ugh). But she can't bring herself to bring up the conversation with me or my sister. How can I bring up the conversation?
I was trying to think of a way: take her out to dinner and somehow get on the topic? Isn't that kind of weird to do in a public place? Or would it be safer to talk about it in public, because then we'd be able to switch the subject quickly? I feel like being at home would be weirder, since my sister might be around and so would my dad.
That made me feel better. Writing usually does...
Let me know if you have any thoughts about this in the comments. I'd like to hear them.
Thanks for reading.
No one from my real life reads this? At least I hope not. There's a lot I've been doing in the last couple-ish months that I'm not comfortable sharing with anyone, that I haven't shared with anyone except for one person. But even then, I'm not getting comfort or advice.
I made a second Twitter account in I think it was this past June. I created it to be a miscellaneous account, one for my writing and also for some game apps I play on my phone. It was to be an outlet where I could say whatever I wanted instead of using my main, personal account. As the days went on, it turned into an 18+/NSFW account. I hadn't planned for it to become that way, but I reply tweeted to one of Pornhub's tweets and it kinda blew up...I didn't start getting influxes of DMs until a few weeks after though.
Then, I got attached. Quickly. It was the scariest thing that has probably ever happened to me other than experiencing my dad's rage, but maybe even more scarier because it was happening inside of me, not because of an exterior, seeable thing. I told myself I couldn't form crushes on people because they were far away (east coast N. America, the UK, and Australia mainly), but it kept happening: once briefly with one person and now with another person that has lasted since...a month and a half now.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that time goes very slowly there. I had been chatting with a man for what seemed like months when it only turned out to be a couple weeks. He had that much of an effect on me. Plus, now I've only had that account for about 2 months when it feels like I've been tweeting on it and interacting with people for much longer. I ended up breaking the guy's trust, a silly prank (I thought it was funny, he did not), and we haven't been the same since then. He used to wake me up with good mornings and make me orgasm multiple times gorgeously every time, but it's not like that at all anymore. I inwardly torture myself for a message from him. I've dreamt about him...I don't think he regards me in the same manner.
But there are other guys who probably think about me that way, which is odd because I don't think I'm anything special.
Words can only go so far.
At one point early on in our messages, the guy I've now fallen for told me he can't be with me for emotional support as much as he'd like to be. He said I needed to find that support with other people, to keep up with the relationships I have, to not stray away from reality. Let's just say my reality is really bleak right now, boring, uneventful. I looked forward to talking to him every day. I still do. But I've come to realize I shouldn't. One day we might meet, but for right now, it's just a fantasy. A dream. I'm not reality.
Messaging is like that: you can log out, turn off notifications, ignore. I logged out of my account all day yesterday, checked it this morning briefly because I was really horny, replied to some messages, then logged out to watch porn and make myself cum. I've still logged out.
The thing about NSFW Twitter is that there's always someone. It's worldwide. You say good night to one person, you say good morning to another. I have spent entire days chatting with people before, and that was...Not something I'd do again.
I want to tell my mom about it. About everything. After thinking I wouldn't tell anyone, tonight, as I was sitting at the dining table with my parents, I thought I wanted to tell her. I wanted to cry. Because I was scared what she'd think of me.
I was raised going to church. I was told to always bring a future boyfriend home to meet my dad. I was told to get married before sex. Sex wasn't brought up. Contraception was never brought up. I started masturbating (in secret) with a vibrating back massager when I was somewhere between 10 and 14, and one day I couldn't find it anymore. Obviously it wasn't so secret to either my mom or dad. Yet neither of them brought it up with me or my sister. Like it was a sin to pleasure yourself.
Years later, like only about a year ago, I was going through my mom's things, looking for something, when I found a vibrator in her bedside table. Talk about yuck, but I was shocked. Maybe I shouldn't have been. I may have told this story before but once I asked my mom if she would mind if I dated someone casually. She said no, and that answer surprised me too, because of all the aforementioned at the beginning of this paragraph.
I once also found out she had been flirting with a man that wasn't my dad on one of her free online messaging apps. It was the dumbest situation too: she was in Korea on a trip for a conference and she had suddenly texted me to delete the app from her laptop. I thought it was weird, I asked her why, but she said to just do it. Obviously I got curious so I looked up some messages first. I was so devastated, I cried for two days. What's more, I think my dad had also seen the messages. I don't know what happened after that, but I loathed living with her for a long time. I still do. I don't trust her at all.
She's a woman. Obviously she needed some kind of relief, some kind of pleasure in her life when she didn't have any (really trying not to think about her and my dad having sex, ugh). But she can't bring herself to bring up the conversation with me or my sister. How can I bring up the conversation?
I was trying to think of a way: take her out to dinner and somehow get on the topic? Isn't that kind of weird to do in a public place? Or would it be safer to talk about it in public, because then we'd be able to switch the subject quickly? I feel like being at home would be weirder, since my sister might be around and so would my dad.
That made me feel better. Writing usually does...
Let me know if you have any thoughts about this in the comments. I'd like to hear them.
Thanks for reading.
Saturday, 1 July 2017
My Parents
I realized something recently. Again.
My parents go to extremes when it comes to my sister and I. If I'm sad and crying, I'm depressed. If I'm only eating cereal for lunch, I'm starving myself. If I haven't cleaned my bathroom or dusted my room for a couple days, my mom goes from 0 to 60 in half a second.
I wonder if I could be homeless. I get this feeling every once in a while that my parents will throw me out of the house, and it scares me and intrigues me. I'd be scared because what parent would do that to their kid. Granted, I'm an adult who has no idea what the hell she's doing with her life, but as my mom constantly points out, I won't know how she feels until I become a parent (gag) and she loves me. Whatever that means. Basically, at this point in my life, I am no longer their child but a boarder in their house. I've felt this way for a few years now.
I'm intrigued because I haven't ever felt homeless before...Actually, that's a lie, I feel homeless right now. Although I have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in, this doesn't feel like home. Obviously this is nothing compared to the people who are actually living without a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in, but maybe I could experience this kind of life to appreciate what I have now. Or I could experience it to finally get my act together and do something like go back to school (gag again) or find a job that interests me and try it out.
Ack. I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore. I'm still just very lost and it feels like I have no one to talk to.
My parents go to extremes when it comes to my sister and I. If I'm sad and crying, I'm depressed. If I'm only eating cereal for lunch, I'm starving myself. If I haven't cleaned my bathroom or dusted my room for a couple days, my mom goes from 0 to 60 in half a second.
I wonder if I could be homeless. I get this feeling every once in a while that my parents will throw me out of the house, and it scares me and intrigues me. I'd be scared because what parent would do that to their kid. Granted, I'm an adult who has no idea what the hell she's doing with her life, but as my mom constantly points out, I won't know how she feels until I become a parent (gag) and she loves me. Whatever that means. Basically, at this point in my life, I am no longer their child but a boarder in their house. I've felt this way for a few years now.
I'm intrigued because I haven't ever felt homeless before...Actually, that's a lie, I feel homeless right now. Although I have a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in, this doesn't feel like home. Obviously this is nothing compared to the people who are actually living without a roof over their head and a bed to sleep in, but maybe I could experience this kind of life to appreciate what I have now. Or I could experience it to finally get my act together and do something like go back to school (gag again) or find a job that interests me and try it out.
Ack. I don't know what I'm trying to say anymore. I'm still just very lost and it feels like I have no one to talk to.
Thursday, 8 June 2017
Saturday, 29 April 2017
I Moved...
...To a different country.
I'm Canadian, born and raised in Canada all my life, but about a month ago, I moved across the border to Washington State. I was pretty miserable during the first few weeks. Where I live, technically I'm not even supposed to be here: it's a 55+ community so I feel a bit constricted. It's also far away from everything, like you have to drive everywhere and it takes at least an hour to walk anywhere whereas I'm used to things being 30 minutes away or less walking distance.
I'm trying to make the best of it though. I'm taking an online interior design course so that's keeping me busy. I've also been writing every day this month with given prompts. It's been interesting, trying to come up with something on the spot. I have a couple more days to go (I still have to write today's prompt) and I'm a little sad for it to be over. Just means I'll have to be all the more diligent with the projects I've already started. I've been busy on social media too and watching my shows, including re-runs of certain episodes I really love...I get self-conscious when people ask me about me getting a job, but I want to take my time with that: I don't even know what I want to do with my life and doing something I don't like to do (ie. customer service) doesn't appeal to me at all. I'm being picky, and I think I have a right to be. At least, at the moment I do. We'll see what happens in the next few months.
I've noticed a few bad things while living here: people suck at driving, parking, and the traffic sucks no matter what time of day. I guess the positives would be that gas, food, and clothes are cheaper here, although with the Canadian dollar being so bad, I haven't been doing much shopping of any kind.
So yeah, that's me right now. I hope all of you are doing aiight :P
I'm Canadian, born and raised in Canada all my life, but about a month ago, I moved across the border to Washington State. I was pretty miserable during the first few weeks. Where I live, technically I'm not even supposed to be here: it's a 55+ community so I feel a bit constricted. It's also far away from everything, like you have to drive everywhere and it takes at least an hour to walk anywhere whereas I'm used to things being 30 minutes away or less walking distance.
I'm trying to make the best of it though. I'm taking an online interior design course so that's keeping me busy. I've also been writing every day this month with given prompts. It's been interesting, trying to come up with something on the spot. I have a couple more days to go (I still have to write today's prompt) and I'm a little sad for it to be over. Just means I'll have to be all the more diligent with the projects I've already started. I've been busy on social media too and watching my shows, including re-runs of certain episodes I really love...I get self-conscious when people ask me about me getting a job, but I want to take my time with that: I don't even know what I want to do with my life and doing something I don't like to do (ie. customer service) doesn't appeal to me at all. I'm being picky, and I think I have a right to be. At least, at the moment I do. We'll see what happens in the next few months.
I've noticed a few bad things while living here: people suck at driving, parking, and the traffic sucks no matter what time of day. I guess the positives would be that gas, food, and clothes are cheaper here, although with the Canadian dollar being so bad, I haven't been doing much shopping of any kind.
So yeah, that's me right now. I hope all of you are doing aiight :P
Sunday, 12 March 2017
Dear Future Offspring
You will not exist.
I thought you would once.
Tonight, I picked up my sister from work. Because we currently live in two different countries with me visiting her at the moment, I'm unable to use my cellphone, so on this particular drive, I didn't bring mine with me (plus I needed it to regain battery). I got to her workplace and saw that the place was completely dark and no one was standing outside the establishment. I went to the back of the building to see if she was standing there or waiting inside a co-worker's car, but no one was there. I made a couple rounds of the block, waited for a minute, then decided to come back home because she could have gotten a ride from said co-worker. I come home to discover that she is not home, so I call her using her home phone line and she says she's standing outside the building. To my annoyance, I have to hop back into the car and drive back to where I just was.
As I was lying down, playing Candy Crush before going to bed, I realized I don't like being responsible for people. I don't like that other people have this power over me to be worried about them. I love my sister but I still don't like that she has this ability to make me feel annoyed without feeling annoyed and guilty herself. I don't like that I'm mad to the point of crying while she's just contentedly going about her night. I don't like that I have to cater to her every whim because she is the youngest or because she feels entitled to ask for things and bother people.
Maybe that's why I don't like asking other people for things, to do things with me, to hang out, to have a meal together, to buy something for me. I don't like depending on other people and I don't like that other people have to depend on me.
That's probably why I like being alone so much and would rather be alone. Whoever said we need other people was right, but I'm good with just texting, messaging, or emailing. Hell, even regular mail would be great.
So, to the kids I had planned for and already picked the names out for, I hope you find a better time with someone else. Because it won't be with me.
I thought you would once.
Tonight, I picked up my sister from work. Because we currently live in two different countries with me visiting her at the moment, I'm unable to use my cellphone, so on this particular drive, I didn't bring mine with me (plus I needed it to regain battery). I got to her workplace and saw that the place was completely dark and no one was standing outside the establishment. I went to the back of the building to see if she was standing there or waiting inside a co-worker's car, but no one was there. I made a couple rounds of the block, waited for a minute, then decided to come back home because she could have gotten a ride from said co-worker. I come home to discover that she is not home, so I call her using her home phone line and she says she's standing outside the building. To my annoyance, I have to hop back into the car and drive back to where I just was.
As I was lying down, playing Candy Crush before going to bed, I realized I don't like being responsible for people. I don't like that other people have this power over me to be worried about them. I love my sister but I still don't like that she has this ability to make me feel annoyed without feeling annoyed and guilty herself. I don't like that I'm mad to the point of crying while she's just contentedly going about her night. I don't like that I have to cater to her every whim because she is the youngest or because she feels entitled to ask for things and bother people.
Maybe that's why I don't like asking other people for things, to do things with me, to hang out, to have a meal together, to buy something for me. I don't like depending on other people and I don't like that other people have to depend on me.
That's probably why I like being alone so much and would rather be alone. Whoever said we need other people was right, but I'm good with just texting, messaging, or emailing. Hell, even regular mail would be great.
So, to the kids I had planned for and already picked the names out for, I hope you find a better time with someone else. Because it won't be with me.
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