I was ripping out already written on pages of my notebooks so I could reuse them (reduce, reuse, recycle?). Apparently, I write a lot of random nonsense in notebooks, and here it is:
(oh, nonfiction first, then fiction)
Ready, Steady, Sex
Getting turned on is an odd thing. Some people never are (extreme example, 2/3rds of women have trouble achieving orgasm... ladies?) Some people almost always are (watch out for those people, they will attack you like a fiend looking for crack money while you're clearly saying no like an eight sided stop sign). I had formed some sort of happy schedule where I maintained a tight hold on my sexuality 90% of the time (meaning I was as asexual as a sponge... a very happy, lonely sponge). The other 10%, you may ask, was spent trying not to jump people myself, and not trying to think about oral and tactile fixations (I know Freud never defined the tactile fixation, but I swear as much as touch is a sense it is also a need!) This generally occurred a few days out of the month, or around dances and other occasions that required wearing costumes. I presume from this data that I would enjoy role playing, and that I know must be true because I was a fan of D&D growing up. But dancing literally drove me crazy, it was the vehicle of my promiscuity, if we assume that even I, in my life, got around.
Max, 2007
His detergent smelled of half-finished heartbreak which wafted in front of me, but which I still refused/was unable to recognize.
Unconsciously I...
My general theory on dreams is that you shouldn't have them. You know the early 90s dance classic, "Another Night, another dream, but always you?" That's what dreams are for me generally. I'm simply content being friends with someone, and suddenly, overnight, I now believe that we are destined for each other because that was the best fake sex I had ever had! That shouldn't happen. Dreams don't know you, and they definitely can't predict perfect matches. Freud was a fool for even suggesting that dreams contain latent desires of our unconscious: I have never wanted to be chased by a Tyrannosaurus rex while chewing bubble gum. But I digress.
OHomosexuals...
It was hell on me to know that he'd never find me attractive, like he was wearing goggles all the time that completely cancelled me out. And furthermore, it wasn't really something I could understand. I thought everyone was at least a little bisexual.
When Falling in Love...
When you're in love, you know. You know what your significant other is thinking. Trying to fall in love, your mindset is a little different. It's like reverse autism--trying to make what you assume the other person is thinking what you think. You lose semblance of yourself. I went so far as to mimic annoying physical movements, a sign of affection and a warning that I would give up myself to not be alone anymore. I should've been an actor, I thought, because falling in love was arbitrarily more difficult, and wasn't nearly as pleasant as being famous. Seeking to assimilate with someone else is what I believe causes that annoying "oneness" people see in couples, you know? It was more than finishing sentences, it was being disgustingly similar. It made people gag (it makes me want to vomit). Sometimes it naturally occurs, but sometimes it is manufactured by the overly eager-to-fall-in-love set, a club I never want to belong to ever again. Sam used to complain about how I no longer was Elora when I was dating Max. I missed her. I enjoyed finding myself after breaking-up.
Stars
Then you'd calculate how many stars were in the sky drifting above your head and imagine their celestial glow radiating into and reflecting off the moist surfaces on your eyes. And of all the stars in the sky, all the alien planets with sentient beings, there would never be a person, or by US government nomenclature, Alien, like you. And none of the 6 billion odd people on earth, who shared 99.9% of your genetic material had neurons wired like yours to think this way, and of course, only you had just seen this sight, the sight right now bouncing into your mind from the heavens. You were special. No wonder people believed God created us individually--we were all so beautifully unique, divinity, logically, must've been involved.
Benadryl Addiction
I lightly flung the bottle full of pink pills at Kayla. It bounced off her fading purple pajamas and her still vibrant, Harry-given blanket, but she picked it up after it fell, sounding like a baby rattle loosed by infant hands upon its crib. "What's this for?" she asked. "I know I shouldn't take anymore" two was the recommended amount... "but I really want to" I shivered with remorse and exhaustion.
And then I was an Almost Lesbian...
I will attempt to qualitatively describe how it feels to consider my life as an actual lesbian:
It's like looking up and seeing red where there should be blue. Or trying to imagine living life nocturnally. Or breathing underwater. Usually imagining my future presents a lot of dream like images, but if I try to imagine dating a lady, I FREAK OUT.
And that's about the best way I can describe it. Most of the time I would rather not deal with being a lesbian, but sometimes it was all I could think about:
I need a boyfriend who will be my girlfriend.
I need a man who can handle the lipgloss.
People think I'm crazy with no regard for where genders end,
but I want a dude who will let me play with his long hair.
Dear Past, Get Over Me
As a non-believer, I've always believed that the most important gift given to us through random chance is the ability to be whoever we want.
Don't you see?
You're not yourself.
You're what you think I wanted you to be.
Small problem, I didn't know.
And instead of being flattered four years ago
I'm a little creeped out in the present.
Never Compromise yourself.
I can guarantee that I am a bitch 12 times outta 20.
Why waste your time with anything else less than perfect?
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