Pull ups.

So here I am, sitting on my bed again. Writing a blog post. I'm home, and graduated. I've been feeling down and out, sort of floaty and lost. Which isn't exactly a great feeling. I mean, I need work and a purpose. But I've been thinking. I'm worrying about things that shouldn't really matter.

IE: Money, the future and tons of other silly things.

I'm not taking that best advice I was ever given. One piece by my Professor M.D. and another is from Neil Gaiman, and the last piece from The Tenth Doctor. Which is not all that surprising. I feel like it will take me time to use this advice, but if I think about it, well it may not be as hard as I thought it was going to be.

First piece, Don't Worry About Money. Marc told me that if I wanted to be actually happy I shouldn't worry about money. It'll come when I need it or I'll get it. It's not the end all be all of my world, and my happiness shouldn't hinge on it. Which I guess to me it does, my life has taught me to attempt to save money anywhere and everywhere. But I guess I need to look past that, I need to be happy working.

Second Piece, Do anything that felt like an Adventure, and stop when it feels like work, so that life never feels like work. I guess doing what you love is what makes you happy, and I should stop when it feels like work. Which I did really when it came to my major is college. All the majors I had before Art felt like work. I felt like I was doing something which, I had no real passion for, and although I loved these majors; except Education, it felt like I was working. As if I was pulling wages at a nine to five job doing something so boring and monotonous that I couldn't keep going. So it seems I do follow that to a point, and need to expand on it.

And lastly, (http://seduff.livejournal.com/10970.html) 10th Doctor Motivational - Words


It's you! 


Oh. you. are. amazing! I love your stuff, what a mind!!


This is magnificent, you're a genius


I've never seen anything like it, and that proves it, absolute genius.


Incredible, you are incredible.


Yes you are,  you're brilliant. 


One more thing, just remember, 


You're gonna be great, You're gonna be more than great


You're gonna be amazing. 


Isn't that right ... 

Friend. 


This fictional character, The Doctor (#10) is the most moving, inspirational character I have even seen. Though he wasn't my first Doctor he is by far, my doctor. The one I love and watch and miss. I love him so much, because he loved the human race, and was so human. He knew that humans were amazing and brilliant and beautiful for all their flaws. And he told me I was going to be something. He was so assured about humans, and their amazing abilities and their hearts that it made me believe in myself. Although I know it was the writers David Tennant brought him to life, and made him a (fiction) person I look up to and love.

So I'm attempting to pull myself up, and get my feet under me. So here we go. One breath at a time.

Breathe just....j-just breathe

So people I haven't talked to in a long while have suddenly popped up. Like ugly reminders of a past I'm trying to forget. Of a me I'm trying to forget. Which is almost impossible, because apparently nostalgia is a disease that never leaves. Indeed it seems that people feel the need to connect with the past, and to people who inhabited that life before now.

I, for the longest time have wanted to leave the me of high school, and even early college behind. Wanting to remove myself completely from that which I had been.Which seems to be very difficult for some people, most of the time I feel as if I am playing a giant role in my own life.

Beyond my anger at these idiotic people from Facebook. I'm graduating in about two weeks. And I don't want to, more because I don't want to go 'home'. I feel more caged and stressed at home than I ever was here at E.C. I wish I had enough money to get an apartment. But I can't. I feel like I'm not ready to graduate. Like I'm not ripe yet. But I don't know. I guess it's stranger that I feel like this campus is my real home and not were my family is. Indeed I feel as if these people, here on campus are bit more my family than my actual family.

In truth I'm scared shitless about this. I don't want to go home and live up to the expectation of certain people, who think if was an idiotic idea to be an art major. Who will do nothing but sit at home, work and be miserable.

But I'm not going to stop being an artist. Even though I won't be able to paint, I'll draw and keep building up my portfolio. Where I will hopefully do something.

This is what I'm going to do, I'm going to keep through things out there into that ocean in little glass bottles and hope that some of them come back with answers.

My Body is a Cage.

Though those of you who are my friends know I have been listening to "My Body is a Cage" a mellow a some what sad song. I cannot describe how much this song is about me.

I am a person who longs to be free of my body in every sense of the word. I know this is frightening, and though it's something that could get me put in a hospital for a good long time. I can't keep walking around like I feel happy. Because even when I am "Happy" there is always this weight. A pressure on my heart, my soul. I can't describe it beyond, I thought I would do better than this.

I want to fall apart, and rage against myself. I want to explode outward. But the cage I feel I'm trapped in makes me want to crawl into a hole and never see the sun again. I want to wither.

But I keep myself going. For other people. Not ever for myself. I know people expect me to be there for them, to help them through whatever shit-show they're going through. So I do.

I think this is why I daydream so much, that I pull myself away so completely. Even as I make and maintain friendships that I could do without. I feel the need to keep people happy, at my own expense.

I want to rip these friendships down, tearing them apart at the seams and walk away free of all the connections. I want to be alone. I want to be able to rip something apart so completely that it can never be put back together. I want to pull my anger and depression to myself like a bitter, sour-smelling blanket.

I want destruction to surround me so that I will never be bothered again. So everyone will know that I am this broken, terror of a human being. Someone who likes to be cruel. To manipulate people. Who stores rage up as  easily as shelving a book.

But others seem to see what they want. A happy semi-adult with no real future. Not knowing where she is going. A failure.

But I know my mind holds the key to whatever is going to happen for me. Daydreaming has brought me nothing but trouble. My shitty GPA being an example. My inability to write a paper that gets me a decent grade. I want to rage and punch and scream. But I won't.

I'll bitch and moan. And do what is expected of me while escaping into the world of fantasy. Be it in my head or in a book or in a comic or movie. I want my life to be that. So  much more with the wondrous things. But I am stuck here.

In a body...

that feels like a rusty, broken cage. My mind that wants to expand into whatever to wherever it wants. But is stuck here. Rotting away attempting to live up to the expectations of people I please for some masochistic reason.

I want to wake up one day, and not be me. I want to wake up where I can be something I am proud of. Someone can love for more then just a "friend when it's convenient." Which is what most of my friendships seem to be.

My body is a cage.

Erk....What?!

So three weeks done...three left. It's strange that I should find myself in trepidation over graduating. I've finished my major and my minor, and it feels like everything has just slipped through my fingers like air. And in truth I feel as if I haven't really grown up that much. I feel almost exactly like that 18 year old who was scared shit-less at being at college.

But yeah. It's time to move on, I mean I love my college. Well more the people in my college. They make me happy, and I'll miss them like nothing else. But I know that moving on is important. Because even though I'm going home and getting a 9-5 job I'm sure I'll pull something positive out of it. I mean it's life, shit can't hit the fan all of the time.

But I'm sure I'll get to it and be happy. It might take some time. I might hit the bottom of some unforgiving well of depression, I might just want to give up but I'm sure someone will be there to pick me up and throw me back into motion. 

So totally, graduating is scary. It's down right terrifying. But I know people will be there just in case I fall flat on my face and end up sobbing like a child. 

For all I know, something great could come and hit me in the face. Like a giant pie.

I'm a fangirl

My life, more recently has revolved around my issues and well fictional characters. Their triumphs and defeats make my life seem so ordinary and I suppose it is, but I am a fangirl. Not in the sense where I tack 'desu' at the end of every word, or that I ship so hard my brain explodes. But it has happened before.

My discovery of I guess the extreme fan base sort of started like this, and has kept me swimming in it.

I won't lie and say I dove right into great fandomship. I did write a few Mary-Sue fanfictions but I'm sure everyone has, and read a good amount of shit on fanfiction.net. But soon (with the help of key friends, you know who you are) I was diving head first into straight fanfiction that began my shipping battles, which ended as quickly as they came because really fighting over fictional characters is boring to me.  

Though most of my childhood, and adolescence was spent in this type of state.

I ended up a different person, though I still carry the baggage today. I dropped many of my hetero-ships though I still claim a few, like Neville/Luna, I moved to slash and now write it. I have a good following on one site where I write crossovers and have way too much fun with Xander from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. 

Beyond all of that being a fangirl is more than writing fanfics or drawing fan art. It's about being excited over things that some people would scoff at. Such as hearing Snape whisper "Trust me" before the doe appears in Deathly Hallows pt 1. 

And even better beyond that, it has helped me develop into someone I love being, beyond my image issues. It made me smart, literate and creative. Being involved with these fandoms have given me a base in which to express myself which, in turn has spread far beyond the fandoms and into my own life. 

My childhood was built around these fandoms, and allowed me to change myself in better ways. Anita Blake tought me to be strong (before the series turned into an HBO special), Harry Potter taught me to choose between what is right and what is easy, Frodo Baggins taught me to be strong in the face of the darkest things, Aang taught me to have fun, The Doctor told me I was extraordinary and Xander, dear dear Xander taught me to love without reining myself in. 

I know being called a fangirl has some other things attached to it. Weird obsessed girls who talk about only that and will shove it into any conversation, and I have met one of those, but I feel like it is a large stereotype that can't be broken until we, ourselves break it. 

So fuck it.

I'm a fangirl, I giggle as stupid things, I poke and squee over Zuko statues. I crank the volume to hear Snape. I love Loki's anguish. 

But I'm a student (a senior) in college, I'm an aunt. And the sad thing is.

All my friends and family are fangirls/boys too.

Day MADE

As of today I am accepted into SMFA Boston. Me, who thought I was going to sit by and cry for ever and work at McDonalds. I plan on going, I plan on getting my masters and becoming a prof. much like the one who made me realize that art is my one true love.

Now...I was going to tell you a bit bout this guy, but here learn for yourself

http://www.marcdennis.com/ .

If I know anything, I know this. Only from studying under him did I make it here. He pushed me, and shoved me in directions I wouldn't have gone without him. And I thank him for that.

But for now, I'm going to rejoyce and party it up.

Because bitches. I know where I'm going and I know where I've been.

What is Time?

After listening to Billy Porter's song, Time I feel so helpless and down trodden. Every time I think everything is basically stable in some sort of way, I get sucker punched and I crumble. The stress of Senior year is wearing on me, and I don't know how much more I can stand without falling apart completely. I'm supposed to be happy, and even though I'm not I wish my friends were. But they are suffering through the exact same thing as me and I just wish I had never come to this school. That I had never wasted so much of my money on something that may not even get me anywhere. Art isn't exactly a flourishing place for new comers to just hop into.

I have the passion, the love of my work, the feeling of brush on canvas, pencil on paper. But I don't know if that is enough. There are so many artists out there who art great, people I know who have flopped and fallen on their faces.

Dear Lord what am I going to do? I'm going to be stuck at a minimum wage job the rest of my life, my college education giving me nothing but the ability to paint pretty things and identify ancient things. Without much else I'm going to be working at a dead end job.

Confucius said "Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life."

I found something I love, but I'm so unsure of my ability to find a job in that field. I hate being so unsure, so scared. I don't remember being this scared coming out of High School, I have no idea why. But it scares me shitless.

I don't want to be a dead beat.