Stuck in a Waiting Room.

I think my life is just about to start. Last night, while taking a nice soak in the tub, I started thinking. I do a lot of thinking in the bathtub, apparently. My mom says it’s not a good thing to think so much sometime, haha. But it was a much needed time to process some thoughts I have. I’ve come to several conclusions.

One: I’m ready to grow up.

I know that while living at my parent’s house, a lot of things are available to my advantage. Use of car, free food, a nice and warm bed, bills are not something I have to worry about, etc. But honestly, I want to have bills to take care of, haha, very odd, I know. I guess that having bills to take care of seem like a very “grown-up” thing to me. I want to become independent, an adult. I want to have my own job, have my own car for which I pay insurance on, have my own place I can decorate to my liking, have a grown up relationship, and pay bills.

Two: Life isn’t as short as we always think it is.

True, life is short in retrospect, but in actuality (at least for me), I’ve got a while ahead of me. I don’t have to accomplish everything I want to accomplish in life right now, at this moment, before I turn 22, as if there’s no tomorrow. My dad’s 50, I’m starting to realize that there’s a whole lifetime ahead of me to make a lot of mistakes, learn new things, experience things I’ve never dared to, and a whole life time to explore and adventure through. Yeah, I have a lot of things I wish to succeed in, and no, I’m not using “there’s always time for that” as an excuse to put off any dreams and goals in my life. As of right now, I have a job that I’m starting in January and I’m planning on going back to school in the fall, and I am SO looking forward to both!

Three: Who I am right now is not who I want to be.

Some people might consider me “religious” because of the fact that I choose to identify myself as a Christian and that I go to church and believe in Jesus. I don’t like the term “religious” because I don’t agree that it defines the relationship that I have with Christ. I believe that being religious means that I am following a set of rules and laws that says I can and cannot do certain things. And that’s not what Christ is about, Jesus is about having a relationship that is based on His forgiveness and His never-ending love. If anybody has any more questions, email me, message me, whatever.

Now, back to the point. Lately I’ve noticed that I have been having double-minded thoughts. Now, what do I mean by double-minded thoughts? I believe and profess one thing, and then I end up eating my words. Basically a hypocrite. I want to live a life that glorifies the God I believe in, and yet I’m not. I teach and show other people how to live such a life. And while I’m doing that, in my heart, I’ve been hiding many things. I don’t know if I’m intentionally hiding them or not. While I want to believe that I’m not, I fear that I am. Like the Apostle Paul says,

“I do what I do not want to do, and do not do what I want to.” (paraphrasing Romans 7:15)

While I realize that I’ve been a hypocrite, I am thankful that God has forgiven me through His grace.

Honestly, my life would have no meaning if it wasn’t for His love. Then I end up falling into this vicious cycle of hating myself for what I’m doing and sabotaging any chance of bettering my relationship with myself. I don’t know how to get out of this hole of a mindset I’m stuck on.

In Other News:

I have a new job I’m starting in January as I mentioned earlier. I’ll be working at a center that serves an identified group of “disabled” for lack of better words, people: Deaf and Hard of Hearing people that serves the greater area of Eastern Washington. I’ve always called it the “deaf service center”, but technically it’s known as “Eastern Washington Center for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing.” But I’m not much for technicalities. So anyway, I’m sort of doing this whole thing backwards, haha. I’ll be interning for six months as a case manager helping various clients with whatever challenges and or issues they are faced with. I like solving problems, so this’ll be interesting! And the goal is to go to school in the fall at Gallaudet University to become a Social Worker for Deaf/Hard of Hearing people. I have no idea how this is going to be, but I’m at least thankful and very happy to have a job after not having one for 2 years. FINALLY! Thank You Jesus! :D

Now that that’s out of the way, I’ve been bored lately. I remember feeling this way many times before while waiting for the next big thing in my life. I don’t like these periods of being “waiting roomed.”

You know how you’re at a doctor’s office, you come in, check with the nurses at the desk and sign in. Then there’s the big wait. Sometimes you fill out some paperwork that might need to be updated, sometimes you just sit and wait. There might be some annoying kid running around or sitting there staring at you. There might be that suspiciously-smelly man that smells of something quite suspiciously smelly who chooses to sit right next to you, even though there’s obviously more than enough empty seats in a room full of empty and inviting chairs, (out of all these, did you have to choose the one right next to me?)

Then there’s the awkward conversations you have in the waiting rooms. While you might not want to share why you’re visiting the doctor in the first place, you also don’t really want to hear why someone else is visiting the doctor.

Finally, the clock that never moves. Every eternity or so, you check the clock and it’s STILL in the same place it was last time you checked. Is that clock even working? When was the last time they changed the batteries?

After what seems like infinity and a half, you are finally called up by a nurse who weighs you in and checks some boring vitals such as blood pressure and temperature. After she leaves, you wait for another lifetime to pass before you finally meet with the doctor.

As you probably notice, I hate waiting. I am an impatient person when it comes to myself and my future. I want things to happen now. NOW. Not next month, not in a week, not even tomorrow, NOW. I like to be kept busy, I like to keep moving. But I’ve been deadlocked. This past year has been my waiting room. Since I dropped out of college and moved back home, I’ve been in the waiting room. Metaphorically, last Friday, the nurse finally called me, and now I’m waiting in the other room before I meet with the doctor. Since I know my timeline now, I know what I’m looking for, so it’s not as bad.

I don’t like being in the waiting rooms in my life so much, but I know that it’s in those times of wait that I have the chance to evaluate my character and go through a mental check-list. Because I know I can’t have a thorough inspection when I’m on the go, and I know I accumulate a lot of flack in life that weighs me down.

Take advantage of the times in your life when you have to wait to have a true face to face conversation with yourself. Ask yourself some questions you might have been avoiding. Be honest with yourself about some doubts, fears, and insecurities you might be dealing with. Check and see if who you are right now would gear you towards who you want to be in the future. Look into your heart and sort through some skeletons you might have been hiding in the closet and deal with them. There’s no good that comes out of festering secrets that hide there.

Paused.

Wow, I never thought I would be so comfortable with being out of my “comfort zone.”

This past week has been extremely hectic and chaotic. Everything was last minute and “hurry up and wait.” It was NOW, NOW, NOW!!! Haha, wow. I’m sitting here at the Amtrak Station waiting for my bus to come. It doesn’t come for another hour and a half. To be honest. This is nice. Yeah, sure it’s loud with the construction outside the building, but it’s actually nice. There’s a handful of people milling about and I’m by myself.

It’s a nice break. A little pause in life. A much needed pause.

This past week, I’ve been dealing with my aunt in the hospital. She has liver failure and the doctors are still deducting possible causes. They have yet to find the exact cause. I have been with my scattered-brained grandmother, which has been quite an interesting experience.

It was nice visiting Seattle these past couple of days anyway. The trips on the ferry at night was the best. The city lights were a nice sight and the smell of the salty sea was great.

I guess I could describe this past week as a hiccup in my life. My whole summer has been a little boring with a few visits here and there. Then I’m slammed with a whole week filled with visits to the hospital everyday, making sure everybody is getting every information they need, as much as I can. Going this way, going that way, taking short naps, and getting confused by spontaneous outbreaks followed with a tearful moment of processing serious life and death situations.

It’s like a jolt of lightening then my mind and body switches over into service mode. I want to make sure everybody’s comfortable and that I can do what I can to help to the best of my ability.

What I really liked were the talks about life with my grandmother. I don’t get to do that very often. She has told me that she just wants to be a grandmother. Nothing else, “Emily, what I’d really like to do is JUST BE a grandmother. Not the one who everybody comes to for help when they need help.” She’s an amazing woman and mother who loves Christ and is filled with sagacious wisdom. I wish I had the chance to just sit and listen to her some more.

But here I am at the train station in downtown Seattle, and I’m on pause. I’m guessing somewhere along the bus ride I’ll become a little different, carrying along the new passed on wisdom and experiences that I’ve learned this past week. I’m grateful for this hiccup. God has given me immeasurable amount of strength and endurance to persevere. He has truly been good to me. I think I’m going to take this time and enjoy my little pause in life before I get back into a routine at home and start some new goals.

Why?

I feel so numb.
It’s like there’s this huge, heavy, hot, and wet wool blanket that’s draping over everything.
All my thoughts, my feelings, actions, and words are either warped into slow-motion, or muffled, as if I was hearing through ear-plugs.

What I want to feel is pain.
Why?
Because I feel so numb.
Why?
Because I can’t stop this dull, monotonous, never-ending cycle of vicious and starving addiction that sucks away at every inch of my being.
It’s like an annoying buzz, the tinnitus damage with no cure to be found.
A constant heartburn that eats away my insides, it’s no wonder I fume of rotting flesh, I’m dying inside.

This pain glazed over with soothing words of lies and false hope of deliverance and freedom.
Oh how I long a single drop for taste!
Just a tiny crumb of weightlessness.

Yet I cry out in agony.
Contemplating self-punishment and various coping mechanisms.
Yet I cry out in agony.
Nobody knows, nobody can see.
Why?
I’m a liar and I hide my flaws.
Why?
I’m scared, so scared.

My heart turned cold at the harsh brush against many disappointments and cruel hurts.
My own shrewd standards too high.
I don’t think I even deserve to be alive.
Why?
Because I hate myself.
Why?
Because I don’t know how to forgive myself.

A judge with a solemn look and a fearsome javelin.
Thunders crashing with every wandering thought and tiny misstep.
I scream, scream in agony at the face of this war inside me.
I’m torn apart, confused by desires.
I don’t know what I want anymore.

I’m still the war-ravaged raped bride in the middle of this bloody battlefield of my journey in life and self discovery.
I’m still waiting for my Rescuer, my Mighty Warrior.
The One who will come and cry tears over me.
The One who will hold and cherish me.
The One who brings light and goodness, who will execute justice.

And tell me that He loves me.
Why?
I still haven’t figured that one out yet.

Sex vs. Intimacy

The best boyfriend I've ever had is my cat. Well, he's probably the only and closest thing to a boyfriend I've ever had. Yeah, sure there were a couple of puppy love when I was a kid, but I don't really remember them. And there was this one guy when I 16, but I wouldn't really count that guy. We met at work, he asked me out, we were "together" for the total of five days, and I saw him two out of the five days. The most we did was hold hands for about a half hour. It didn't feel right and I didn't want to lead him on, so I told him. Never before in my life have I had the opportunity to have premarital sex. Until now.

There's a friend who believes that I am missing out on some important experiences in life. He was pretty shocked when I told him I never had a boyfriend, much less kissed a guy.

So... Sex, huh? Is that what it all boils down to? If that's what it is, then I don't want sex. Especially outside of marriage. There's so many risks, STDs, VDs, babies, and emotional torment. So what's the plus? "Feel good." Really? Because I don't want to share that level of deep intimacy with someone I'm not married to. Sex is supposed to bring a man and a woman closer together, it's actually a blessing in a marriage, and also a way to reproduce. Outside of a marriage, well... Anyway, it's not something I consider a good idea.

And this is where I'm torn. Since there's an opportunity, it does pique my curiosity a little. What is it really like? Will I feel like a different person afterwards? Is it really all that, like so many people make it out to be? And then again... Do I really want to lose my virginity in that way and just for a stupid reason like curiosity's sake?

In my experience, which is none but what I see, premarital sex actually causes more stress.

Blah.. I don't like this.

Well, Kizzy, when you're in love, it's different. DUH.. I know that already. I know that everything's got a different take on it when you're in a relationship with somebody. You see the world in a different color when you're in love. (maybe a little pink?) But anyway, I don't know.

Maybe it's the "being in love" thing I'm more curious about, not sex. I mean, like I said, my best boyfriend's my cat. Why? Well, I know he loves me. When I have a bad day, he'll come right up and steal my lap for a while. While he's purring away with a little drool and refusing to relinquish my legs, I'm forced to give him at least a little attention. Before long, I'm absentmindedly petting him. It's not only when he wants attention, sometimes I need some loving, and he'll hop right up. Sometimes, he'll hop up on my lap and get right in my face, poke his nose on mine as a little hello and I'll touch my forehead against his. We'll talk sometimes, seriously, he meows like I've never heard before and he's a great listener. I've never had this level of intimacy with anybody or anything else. He makes me laugh. He's been my best playmate growing up and now he's the best comfort I've ever had. My cat's seen me at my worst and at my best. I'm pretty sure that the hardest thing I'll have to go through is when it's his time to go. I have no idea what's gonna happen to me when he does.

I've never shared this level of intimacy with anybody. It's intimacy that I'm more afraid of. Another person knowing just about everything. My faults, my flaws, my insecurities, how much I wish I could change about myself, how I think although I contradict myself occasionally, to tell me my breath stinks and to go brush my teeth.

I'm not really interested in sex. I'm more interested in getting to know the other person. I don't think anything good comes out of premarital sex. Outside of marriage, it's pretty much meaningless. You might share a nice connection with someone, but then, it's just as shaky as it was before. Having sex with a hot guy doesn't seal the deal or anything. And what are you left with? Sometimes a VD, sometimes stress over a missed period and the possibility of an unwanted baby. But what if it was just a hook up? Great, good for you, it's pretty much just like jacking off, you'll feel good for maybe a few minutes, and your life is just as crappy or the same as it was before you jacked off. What's the point of premarital sex? There isn't any. When it comes down to the bottom line, you can't disagree, there isn't any point to premarital sex. You could probably come up with a whole bunch of excuses or "valid" points, but honestly, sex was intended to bring a man and a woman closer together in a marriage.

So, if you want to have sex, then whatever. It really isn't any of my business to tell you what to do. Just please, do me a favor, don't tell me about it. Because I don't care much for sex outside of marriage.

Well.... Yeah.

I had a marvelous dream last week. It was very special to me. I know it was only a dream, but it was very real too. In the dream, I felt every part of me was complete. I was loved, I was protected, I was beautiful, I was special, I was needed, and I was the only one. I was free to love too. And showed my love in this dream. It was so special. I don't want to share it with someone else because I know in my heart it was meant for me and me alone. It wasn't one of those sex dreams if that's what you're thinking. It was a dream of intimacy and vulnerability. I believe the man in my dream was my husband. As weird as it may sound, but that's what I strongly feel. (I know, it may not be true, I don't care much about that right now, it was special and it was for me and me alone.) But in the dream, his face wasn't clear. I wonder if this means I haven't met him? Or if I'm not supposed to become aware of who he is yet. If that's the case, then I'm fine with that. I know I'm not exactly ready for marriage right now, but I would like to believe that I'm heading down that path soon enough. It was very special and it gave me peace. Since then, I've been doing a little better. I notice I'm not as depressed, or apathetic as I was in certain areas. I don't care if it was just a dream, it was real. I wouldn't be able to dream something like that on my own, so I know it wasn't just me who dreamed a dream. I know that God had every part of it, and Jesus was so apparent. There is no peace we can experience in this world that would ever amount to the peace Jesus gives. The same goes for His love and grace. I believe I saw Jesus in my dream, although, in my dream, He didn't look like the Jesus we all see in pictures and on posters and such, but I'm sure it was Him. Maybe I couldn't see His face because I'm in a place in my life where if I see His face, I would perish instantly. My unholiness would destroy me if I were to see His face, since He is the epitome of all things holy and pure. God is extremely graceful, and I know that He loves me. No matter how much I may hate myself, His love beats my hatred. I laugh at this thought. It seems funny to me that I would hate myself, when it doesn't even matter. I mean, nothing on this world really has a point. All that really matters is that each one of us have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. Love God, then love others. In order to love God, we must know Him and follow His commands. But before we can truly follow His commands, we must get to know who He is. Our God is a God of love relationships. Once we start to get to know Him, we can't help but fall in love. But when you get to the point of where you have fallen in love with God, it's very hard to get rid of Him in your life. Well, in my case anyways. No matter what I say, think, do, God is always there. I find myself constantly talking to Him in one way or another. It's very much a one-sided conversation at the moment, since I haven't been in the word as much as I should. Actually, I haven't been reading the bible at all, other than at church to find the scripture my pastor might be speaking about. It's not really sitting there collecting dust, it's more like, hiding in my bag and goes with me where ever I may take my bag. I know there's power in the word, and I carry it with me, but I know that the power is much more effective if I were to read it, digest, and apply it. It's like I have my sword, but I'm not training myself for battle. My sword's just hanging around my waist on my belt along for the ride. It may seem like just for looks, but it's not like I whip out my bible and tell people I'm a christian. To be honest, I wouldn't call myself a christian, I'm doing a lousy job of representing Christ, so, to avoid slandering His image further, I'll be honest, I'm a lousy christian if one at all. I don't exactly know how to describe my situation. I talk to God, constantly, all through the day, I might send a little prayer to Him if I happen across a certain issue, situation, or concern, but I'm not really ministering to anybody. I'm not preaching the Gospel. I'm not telling anybody about Jesus and His works. But it's not like I'm telling God I want this and that, negotiating with Him, I know He doesn't negotiate with us. Instead, He teaches us, whether we learn the lesson the first time or go through the difficulties again and again until we do. My own mind is confusing me. I guess I could say, that I'm partially selfish? I mean, I talk to God (not with, since it's a one-sided conversation), and He listens, I know that. Every now and then, since I've been stubborn about reading His word, He'll send me a wink, a sign, or like last week, a dream. Other than keeping myself vulnerable, open and bare, towards God, I haven't been doing much. Is it okay to be a little selfish when I'm going through some much needed healing? One thing for certain in this world, love is not guaranteed when it comes to us people. The only guaranteed love we have is from Jesus Christ, our God. I guess you could say that I'm getting a little tired of only love from God. But it's a little more complicated than that. God's love is more than enough, but then maybe I want to experience love through a deep discussion, or a simple pat on the back. Love communicated through quality time or touch. I mean, I feel like I'm half a person. And at the same time, I feel like I'm two completely different people. Oh my gosh, I'm starting to feel dizzy. I'm told multiple times in various ways that thinking about myself is a bad thing. Thinking about my life, future, desires, or even being a little bit selfish, is bad. It's a capital BAD thing, and doing so makes me a horrible person. But other than God, I'm the one who knows my needs the most. And there are many needs in my life that are empty. These needs have been empty for a long time. I've coped with the emptiness in many ways, including self-harm and attempting suicide at one point. I'm not looking for pity or anything. This is my outlet. I have to put down my thoughts. If I don't, they ferment and cause me harm later, in one way or another. So, yeah, if I seem a little bit selfish, then that's probably because I am being a little selfish. It's human nature to look out for number one, also known as your own selves. It's the only way I know how to deal with the constant emptiness that's inside of me. The emptiness is like acid burning its way out. Like swallowing shards of glass and they get etched inside your esophagus, cutting the inside. So yeah, you can probably imagine my pain over the emptiness and unsatisfied basic human needs that I have. I'm tired of it. When will it stop? I don't know. There's only One who knows the answer to that. And I'm too mad at myself to allow myself to hear Him freely. Stupidly sabotaging myself over some stupid things I'll probably never understand.

Wow, I am really judgmental towards myself.

Tremors of Cruelty.

I feel weird.

I'm a little cold. I'm a little tired. And I'm shivering. I hope my tremors don't start again.

My tremors are starting again. My hands smell different. My body is tensing up. I feel confused. Maybe a little.... Scared? What am I scared of? No, it's not scared...

I feel like.. There's two separate entities.

Like, right now, there's two of me. One looking in, the other looking out. As if I'm reading a book about myself. Like all the quirks I've picked up in my entire lifetime is colliding inside of my body and I can't contain it. An explosion inside of my body, the constant rumbling, betrayed by tics. Tics that don't belong to me.

My hands are cold. My body is rocking back and forth. The steady rhythm slowly increasing in tempo, broken here and there by a thunderous quake. I clench my hands into tight fists trying to keep calm. Taking deep breaths doesn't help either. My right arm shakes, my left hand's fingers constantly moving. The acid burns inside of me. Crawling upwards, eating away at the brokenness of my existence. Desperately trying to make sense of it all, my brows furrow and my eyes squint.

A shaky intake of breath and my head pounds with the pain of confusion. The one outside watches helpless, the one inside struggles to scream.

I want to pull out my hair and bleed and scream and cry and run and spin and vomit and....

I want to breathe.

I want to breathe in deeply.

To breathe in deeply.

And feel no pain.

No, that's a lie.

I want to feel the pain. I can't stand this numbness. I can't stand this feeling. Succumbing slowly to the emptiness. The absence of all there is.

Now that's a cold place.

I want to feel the sharp, hot, burning, stinging of pain. To know that I'm alive.

No... I need to feel pain.

But I can't.

I can't.

I can't feel pain.

I can't, and it's so cruel.

And unfair, that I can't feel pain.

It's so cruel that I can't cry.

I can't. I'm constantly on the verge. Yet my tears will not spill. They cannot spill. No matter how much I want them to. They won't.

This constant sabotage, this war within my own heart, oh, how cruel I am! To myself and none other! To look down upon myself, to hate who I am! To laugh and jeer at my own weakness! How cruel!

The one outside and the one inside. The hatred ripping me apart. The constant clash tremors through my entire body. To never be able to fully breathe, to never be able to let go, to never be truly free.

How cruel to bind myself. To disallow mistakes. To break my own feet.

Oh, how much I hate who I am. The one inside yearns and the one outside fears. How can I ever come to peace? How can I ever become one again? Clawing at the inside of my own stony flesh, oh, how I yearn to break free! Free of my own fears! Free of my own shame! Free of all my stupid rules. Stupid rules. To not give a shit anymore. To be who I want to be. To be me.

Yet this constant struggle.

Fuck it. I don't care anymore.

I'm going to lose myself.

That's the only way I'll be found again.

Walking Down the Same Path?

So, I'm still depressed and nothing's really changed...

I've been considering dying my hair and changing some personal choices. But then, at what cost?

My mother told me the other day, when she was my age, she "threw" herself out there into the party scene because she was heart broken. She made many mistakes, having sex with multiple men, and ended up pregnant with my oldest sister.

I'm heartbroken too. And I want to "throw" myself out there, in hopes of love.

But I'm afraid now. Hearing her say that to me. I quietly said to myself, "I'm heartbroken too. Will I make those mistakes as well?"

I don't know what to do anymore. I have no passions in life. They were stolen from me. Taken away, and I have absolutely no idea if I'll find my passion for anything again.

I'm constantly on the verge of tears, yet there's something inside of me keeping them from flowing freely. Is it because I'm ashamed to cry alone? No... That's not it. More like, I'm tired of crying in the dark, by myself. When will I be found?

When will I be found?

Hiding in a Linen Cabinet.

Do you ever feel like maybe you want to hide? Like crawl under a table and cower for a little. Just hide until someone finds you? Maybe shed a few tears in secrecy?

Well... What if nobody looks for you? What if you had some secret hope that you were important, maybe just a little important to someone, that they would search for you?

I want to hide. And I want to be found. But I'm so afraid that nobody will try to find me. I'm so afraid that my fears would be confirmed. That I'm not important to someone. Then I just want to hide all over again.

I just want to love someone and feel loved. I've been so empty for so long. I even tried to kill myself once, because I didn't want to feel this empty anymore. When will I feel love? When will I know what it is? To know what it means to be loved? To be cared? To be precious? To be wanted... or even desired.

What point is there in life? Why am I even here?! How many times have I asked this? And yet, I still don't know the answer, or even how to figure it out. Screw you, I don't care if I'm being "emo-ish", I'm being honest. I'm serious.

I'm broken. And I'm tired of being broken. As cliche as it might be, its true, I'm like a little girl dreaming that I'm a princess waiting for my prince charming to come and rescue me. My greatest fear is that he doesn't exist. And that I'll be hiding for a long time, never to be found.

Life is meaningless. Pointless. We all die, and we can't take anything with us when we die. We come from dirt, and we rot when we die. What's the point of living when you have absolutely nothing?

Nothing to live for? I thought I had a dream, it motivated me for a while. Until I found out I was deceiving myself. It wasn't really the dream I was living for, I was chasing someone. Then the focus of my chasing shifted onto another person. Then my heart was broken again. It was my own fault. I don't want to chase anyone anymore. I just want to be loved. Is it okay to be just a little selfish? Is it okay to want to be loved? To feel unashamed? To feel free? To be able to take a deep breath and not clutch at my sides from the pain? To feel whole, like I've never been broken, like there was never any healing needed, that's what I dream of.

I can't even cry properly. It's pointless to cry. Nobody cares if I cry, so... yeah, like I said, pointless. Cutting myself is pointless too. Suicide's a burden on others, so that's a waste of time, I don't want to burden someone else, I just want to be loved. To know that someone cares about me. I want to feel important. And cherished.

I'm tired of feeling so empty... And so broken. I'm tired of being afraid. I said this to myself before... I'm not afraid of being lonely, I'm actually used to it. Loneliness is something I grew up with. Just how much longer must I be alone? How much longer must I wait? How much longer before someone calls my name, looking for me? How much longer before someone finds me hiding in a linen cabinet?

I don't know.

I want to make another blog, but I don't know why. So, here, put up with some more random, worthless, useless crap. Or... You know, you can always ignore me and leave... Jus' sayin!

In this day and age, lots of us "anti-social" teenager/adolescents have retreated into the intrawebs. Sadly... I am, er... was? No, I still am but I'm not a teenager, I'm 20 years old, one of them. (Oh my gosh! insert quarter-life crisis drama here)

ANYWAY, my point.

Its sad to think, sometimes, that the likes of us can find such a good anonymous friend online. We develop a sort of "online" friendship-relationship, usually with people we have never met, heard of, or even plan on meeting someday. THEN comes the obsessions. Some people take it so far that they have a "romantic online relationship" with someone they only know by pictures, what they type, and the occasional "cam-session". Seriously?....

I mean, SERIOUSLY?!! Well, to be honest, I don't know how to meet people in real life that would lead to a romantic relationship, because, quite frankly, I've never been in that situation. (I know, I'm 20 and never had a boyfriend, sad, right??) But I'm not that desperate to get involved in a superficial online romantic relationship with a stranger, who quite possibly lives on the other side of the world. Okay, now that I got my bitch-fest out of the way.

.... I guess that's all.

First Impressions, huh... that's kind of a strange thought.

Hello blogging world. This will be a place where I spew honesty. Right now, I have to go pee. I know, pretty bad first impression for some people, but... Oh well, too bad. I don't care. I got a twitter yesterday and already have three followers. I thought that was kind of odd, especially since I have no idea who the followers are, or why they decided to follow me. Anyway.... moving on to introductions.

The topics I write about will seem quite inconsistent sometimes. Mostly it will be because I want to write out what's going on inside this crazy, erratic, and... well, inconsistent mind of mine. If you decide to start following, you'll find out pretty soon, that I'll be morbid sometimes, maybe religious, and deeply thoughtful a lot of the time. I ask questions, too. If you feel compelled to answer, be my guest.

Rule number one, is mostly for myself and any stranger that answers, I don't want to hear some "easy" answers. Usually when I ask why towards a specific topic, I want more than just an educated guess or an opinion. I like to learn, but I don't care much for simple facts and truths, its the workings behind the simplicity that I'm more interested in.

As for rules, that's all I have for now. Maybe as I continue, I'll add more... Who knows, we'll see.

So... I guess that this one's a caution for the future.

Nice to meet you, whoever you are. You may call me Kizzy Bandit.

--Until next time.