Apartment details

10 12 2007

Cost: ~$600 per month
Time: Next year
Deadline: Must know “by the week we get back”


I might as well come clean.

5 12 2007

Dear Mom/Blog,

Okay, when I say I am reading my <subject> texts, I AM LYING. I wish I were reading it, and I am glancing at it whenever I can remember they exist, which pretty much adds up to not reading them.

Today I read 18 pages of my nutrition. It is 4:32am; I just finished. That only leaves me 46 pages left! Plus my freaking notes!
I realized observing my behavior today that I really do have Serious brain problems. No, I am not trying to exaggerate for sympathy or anything, although yeah, I have wished all year long that there were some kind of understanding that could be reached. Recently I got pretty excited to read (Site A, Site B)that unusual sleep patterns are normal for gifted kids–either needing less sleep, or just having a permanently strange internal clock–but this is friggen’ ridiculous. I have to get up in time to study my notes for a 9:00 test a half an hour away [I set my alarm for 7:30, by the way, to allow time to look at my notes.], and going to bed at–well, my alarm clock probably says about 5:00 right now–is NOT going to be adequate. But tonight I observed myself–I finally lost interest in whatever I was so enraptured by online, so I started getting ready for my shower. It was shortly after midnight. You cannot imagine how proud I felt right now! I was finally beating the cycle, beating the insanity that had lasted my whole lifetime! I was finally making progress and I was going to finally come through for myself!!!!! Then, on my way to put on my flip-flops and take my things to the shower, I casually glanced at the screen. One or two hours later, standing stationary in front of the computer still in my socks, I realized–HOLY FRIGGEN SHIT I HAVE A TEST TOMORROW AND LOOK AT THE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11one!1!

And–look, Mom, I know you are going to blow a fuse when you read this entry, and probably yell at me and tell me I should always actually do my friggen work and sleep and eat and study, but you know what? I have been telling myself to do those things for the entire duration of my school career to no avail, and I even bring God into it. (Dear God, pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease help me to focus on my reading and get it done in time to read my notes!)

This makes me feel so hopeless. You know that feeling of just wanting to murder the life out of whatever is causing your problems so hard that it dies to death, and then you realize it is you? (Well, maybe you would not.) I think that might explain a lot of cutting incidents. But Violet is too sensible to cut at this stage of her life; instead she blogs about it so she can drag people into her problems who are already at their stress limits with their own, non-self-inflicted problems.

Sometimes I really wish I would just go comatose (for a few decades, perhaps) so I would no longer do this to myself and other people. Oh, come on, stop looking at me like that! I am not being a drama queen, I just honestly cannot think of a better way to deal with this? Can you? (OTHER THAN repeating the same crap I have been telling myself to do for ages now? It does not freaking work. I am broken.)

Violet Black

Vital Japanese phrases for the deranged

4 12 2007

First, a pronunciation key for general Japanese:
a = ah    i = ee (but very soft when it is not next to any vowels)    u = ooh ( also very soft by itself, most noticeably at the ends of common words)    e = eh    o = oh    ai = eye    ei = ‘ay    ou = ohhh    fu ~= hu    wo ~= something halfway between oh and whoa    any double vowel = just lengthen the syllable a bit

Kisama no ryoushin wo koroshite miteru.
I am trying to kill your parents, bastard!

Saa, sono pajama ga oishisou desu~!
Ooh, those pajamas look delicious!

Youkai no tomodachi wa “Kodomo wo tabeta hou ga ii da yo” to iimashita. Soshite, kodomo wa doko deshou ka?
My goblin friend(s) said, “It’s a good idea to eat children.” So, do you happen to know where there are children?

Watashi no musuko wo kaite kudasaimasen ka.
Won’t you please buy my son?

Bukkosha wo mirushi, chotto kawaii da yo.
I see dead people, and they’re kind of cute.


29 11 2007

Dear Blog,

I know I should be revising my Japanese essay right now, but it is looking at me furiously and trying to intimidate me away from touching it even after all this time.

So anyway, I felt like mentioning something odd I discovered two days ago.

There is this kid, “Roshi,” who is in my Japanese class, friends with my Japanese class friends, and also once seriously creeped me out by doing the prehensile-dolphin-genitals dance for everyone.
Roshi went with Hayley, Alisha, and me to…well, we were originally going to go to a place they called “Bubble Tea,” but after we got Chinese food (I ate rice!), we found it was closed, and instead we spent the evening tickling caged cats at the pet store (even Hayley, who is allergic), poking through one of those giant bookstore chains (where I just kind of planted myself by the manga and started reading a climactic scene from the last volume of Death Note) before Anime Club commenced. Along the way, I actually freaking talked! Go me!
Anyway, I found out in our various conversations that this Roshi and I both:
-would drop out of college if we were rich, and instead take all manner of unrelated classes at any colleges we wanted to with no pressure
-hope never to beget children
-want to dye our hair white, although I would have an easier time of it because my hair is already lightish
I am not sure if that was all of them or not, but I thought it was weird to have unusual things in common with someone. Heck, I find it weird when I have major things in common with people. People are…you know, alien.

Okay, I am not sure what the point was of writing this.

In other news, the Japanese language is still taunting me. I wonder if I should go to a tutorial session or something, or if I even can do so?

Violet Black

Postscript: I seriously want Mommy to search through my three-in-the-morning-in-my-nightie-in-the-bathroom-mirror photos in case there are any good ones that I can post on websites.

Quick note

7 11 2007

I have no toothbrush.

Also, bug me until I reserve a camera and buy film (somewhere).

I wish I knew how to put my stupid little demi-scene bits together in some useful manner.

I might get to bed before 3:30 tonight! YAY!!!!!

PMS rant of the night: Screw homework

6 11 2007

Dear Blog,

Contrary to the original plan, I am going to set my alarm for 10:00am and go to filmmaking class without a finished film. If the teacher asks, I will just tell her that I never heard the actual due date, and I will plan to work on it after Japanese class *shudder*. Then, after filmmaking class, I will do my Dict-A-Conversation Japanese homework.

I have no idea why, but my brain seems to slip in at least six hours of Internet time no matter what. I got back to my dorm for the first time at about 9:00pm tonight, and I am just about to take my shower.

I cried several times whilst brushing my teeth. You see, if it were somebody else killing me every night, I could feel some sort of comfortable, justifiable anger. But it is me. I am this incomprehensible monster that kills me day after day. Do you suppose I am in greater need of an exorcism or a lobotomy?

I may never understand what the hell my problem is. Maybe I will die this year; who knows? I cannot imagine that I will be able to keep up this kind of life forever, as if I would actually want to in the first place. Yet, there seems to be no exit. I am stuck here because I need to be here to survive, even though it turns out I am doing the opposite.

Mother says God always has a Plan B. I bet there is another Violet Black somewhere who can take over if anything happens to me.

Yes, I know Mom reads this, and I am not trying to be melodramatic. Okay, maybe I am, but it is not as though I expect you to do anything. What can you do? Even less than I can. (I still think an asylum would be a good idea…) I just sometimes need to project my feelings outward so as not to explode, you know? I bet in any environment, I would find a way to do this to myself, somehow or other.

I just wish my nonpremeditated suicide did not overlap with my precious grades so much, you know what I mean?

Over and out (5:37am),
Violet Black

Edit: After finally getting to bed at about 6:45, I think I was up for about 28 hours straight. ^^;;

(I should post this on WrongPlanet, but…) Am I going to be a little girl forever?

3 11 2007

Dear Blog,

I know this belongs on a large forum where people who know about the subject will actually read it, but I am afraid to venture out there, and this needs to be said.

I am afraid that I will never grow up. I know I stopped wishing I had a young body once I got over my half-conscious misandry/self-loathing, and by extension my psychosomatic asexuality, but I am still not sure if I am an adult yet. For one thing, even before Margaret Sanger aborted my girlpower, I was uncomfortable being referred to as a woman. It just seemed like such a distant species to relate me to, even though I would by no means consider myself a man or feel at ease playing the role of one. So I asked myself, if I am a female, yet not a woman or a man, what do I think of myself as? I guess the answer was always a child. I never got over it somehow, or there was a hitch in the transition.

The thought and fear of my mental arrest came to me when I was brushing my teeth in preparation for my shower at about 6:30am (It is 6:49 right now and I plan to shower and go to bed right after I finish this entry) when I asked God why…why I feel so unpleasant, why I kill myself day after day…The answer was along the lines of, “You’re alone and scared, and you don’t know how to deal with priorities.” (The original wording, intonation and visual accompaniment were a bit more specific for my emotional system to make sense of than the mere transliteration here.) Then I cried, as I often do when God says something painfully accurate. *cries again* It is true, but I am twenty, for heaven’s sake! That ought to have been behind me almost a decade ago!

I am more scared than ever now, but for different reasons. It hurts Mom so badly to think she may not have brought me gracefully into adulthood as a parent is supposed to do, but this is not her fault in any way, it is something in me that might be no easier to fix than a spinal cord injury. I am so sorry, Mom. I am so sorry. I am very, very sorry.

I would bring up how I am going to handle adult life in general if I fail to mature an enormous way past this point, but I think this is enough stress for one entry. I am so very sorry, Mom.

Violet </3