Say your name, try to speak as clearly as you can.

I’ve been feeling kinda sore lately. Almost as if my spine is being compressed while I’m awake, while I’m moving and walking. It’s been cold lately, so maybe the lack of activity could be it. In fact I’m almost certain of it.

I don’t walk as much here as I did before. It’s been cold and I’ve just escaped out of a slump recently. So yeah. I’m pretty sure that lack of any kind of activity is it. On the plus side I’m thinking about trying out yoga. I would like to be more flexible. And I do like stretching a lot.

Other than that I’ve just been doing some thinking recently. About where I want to go. About who I am and people I associate with. I’ve been thinking about how I really love my minor. Like. I love it. I am so happy with it. I’m rethinking about the potential move to being an English major. I love english. I’m good at. I just have some reservations about it. The 4th year course about intersectionality is fucking brilliant and caught my eye for wanting to change majors. I mean I would be happy being an History major, it’s something that I would enjoy. It’s just.

I don’t know. I see the practical sides for picking english over history and history over english.

I am confident in my decision to take summer classes. It helps pick up the pieces that I dropped last semester. I want to finish my degree so that I can either get a job where I don’t feel like it’s below what I should be doing, given my qualifications or go onto grad school. Those are the two choices I am looking at right now, that’s about it. So what if my degree isn’t as marketable as being a rig pig or working in an industry, at least I could get a foothold in a career or career experience in something that I will not hate.

So I’m not who I used to be anymore. Not at all. I don’t drink as much, I’ve developed better coping mechanisms, better ideas of self worth and how I am valuable. I’ve gotten better since then. I’m always changing too. If anything I am not static, I am constantly reviewing, re tweeking, re caliberating how I work, what I think, who I am. It’s just been.

I am pretty sure that I will not ever be anyone’s ideal friendly person. I won’t be that warm fuzzy greeter who’s super loud or that super right off the bat trusting person. I don’t believe in rewarding people when they say look at this misery that has happened to me, revel in how fucked up I am and tell me I’m doing a good job in joining the community. I will not be that person.

Simply put I will not be that person. I will not be measured or admitted or have my worth as “friendly” in the community decided upon by how much I share of my own person hells. Or indecisions or bad life choices. I don’t think that people should be rewarded for poor choices ( by my defintion) however I respect their rights and abilities to make those poor choices. In fact it is an incredibly important facet to me,that in our society we have the right to make whatever choices we want regardless of how many people may disagree or frown upon them (granted they don’t hurt somebody living or are terribly illegal). Yes I have shared some of my own person hells and I wish I hadn’t.

I wish I had dealt with things less publicly and that I had stuck to trusting friends that I’ve known for years. Now some people feel as if they can judge me, de value me in their eyes based on the decisions that I have made.

I guess it should come as a relief to me though. If they are willing to give me less respect based upon an inability of theirs to honor and respect a choice I made, then they wouldn’t have made a good friend. They can be an aquaintence but if you’re willing to throw away a respect for me over that issue then no.

So. Yeah. That’s what I’ve been thinking of between writing summaries, skeletons of essays and learning about wind. In between figuring out if Antigone is an accurate represention of Greek women during that period or if I’m odd for being able to draw out circuits better than other people who are also just learning.

I am complicated, I am dark, I’m not all rainbows or kitties. I’m wonderful in the way that Lunar Park is wonderful, in the way that Fear of a Blank Planet speaks of isolation, in the way that as soon as you hear the power chord intro to “Don’t Stop Believing” you just want to belt it out regardless of where you are or if you can sing. I am a thousand amazing kisses and nine hundred paper cuts. I want more people to realize that. That I’m not always angry, that my anger is born out many things concerned with privellege, human rights, gender, sexism, class, money, and that it does not make me crazy for feeling strongly about the things I do. I do not always expect people to agree with me, I do expect you to enter a dialouge though about where each of us stand and why.

I am amazing in the way that french transforms phrases into something more, like the spirit of the staircase. I am a lot of things.

And I hope, dear reader ( if there is one) you are too.

À bientôt

❤ Zed

Paper Airplanes (Makeshift Wings)

I didn’t write yesterday, I’m sorry. I said that I would write soon and then I missed a day.

I am stretching, slowly growing out of my skin I think. I feel some trapped and encapulsated by an overwhelming feeling at school. The university I go to is relatively small, that being said it is also relatively new as an university. The people who go there for the most part are fresh out of high school, couldn’t get into the older, more prestigious university in my city. They’re people who still live at home with mommy and daddy. They’re people who subscribe to normalacy, to a hetero normative life script of I want a white picket fence plus accompanying children.

It’s not everyone who goes there but still. There’s enough that I feel an overwhelming sense of just not wanting to be there as much.

I do not want a white picket fence. I do not want a normal family. I do not want to have massive amounts of shitty consumer things and being incredibly false to who I am. I do want a job where I have some kind of security, I have worked with unions before and I love how they take care of their members. I would rather work for an university or the government because for the most part they are not run by psycho. Or cater to people who behave rather poorly. Or companies that I don’t agree with ethically or morally.

The other thing that has been bothering me lately is the influx of people writing ‘notes’ on social media sites about things that have happened to them. Things that seem like they’re just huge please look at me ‘notes’. I understand that bad things happen to people. I know that the world is not perfect and there is an untold amount of things that are horrible that happen to people.

However.

When you write posts about how you pregnant at age 18 and did not chose to have an abortion, you chose to give birth to that child at least pretend you had the choice. At least give it some kind of lip service other than I’m already a terrible person but I couldn’t do that.

Having a child is difficult. It is not something that should be gone into lightly in my opinion. I am of the school of though that you should at least have some kind of perspective or directive of how your life is going or will be going before you have a child that’s realistic. That’s just my belief.

I am pro choice. I trust women.

Now to go back to the meat of why their look at me notes bother me . It’s as if they’re competing in Oppression Olympics. Yeah you may be depressed but I got raped by my uncle. Oh yeah, well I had to give up my child because I had a fall from grace I was no longer a good girl. Hmpftt, yeah well my significant other doesn’t understand me, doesn’t understand that I need to be poly.

It. Just. Gets. So. Fucking. Much. They engage in group hugs, group circle jerks with each other essentially. They are told and pointed to as beacons of ‘building community’. You know what?-I don’t want to be a part of the community if they are being regarded as how to make friends. How to connect with people. I don’t. I am not defined by my tragedies or problems. I rally against the odds to come out alive and swinging.

And I will be damned before I ‘make friends’ or ‘socialize’ in the way that they do. I am an exceedingly proud creature. My value, my self worth, my importance are not based on the bad things that have happened to me. They’re not based on my weakness.

This got a bit more angry than I wanted it to.

I’ve been sitting, thinking, wishing

I do not have all of the answers. I do not know everything.

I am like other people trying to find a way to thrive while living. I want to try to find out the ways in which I am happiest, while being around people who I genuinely like. It’s like I’m trying to re discover what makes me happy, what makes me me and how to go about things.

This isn’t meant to be a depressing post or anything. More of a wondering and a standing still in time post. An introspective spewing of words in a pattern that does not appear too defensive or offensive.

I am going to begin to doodle more. I miss doing art-y type stuff and have an idea that maybe a webcomic one day would be a nice thing to have. So. I need to work on being able to draw people, draw things and then it’ll help out more in that respect.

I am writing more so that I can better at putting thoughts to page (well pixel now or screen). The words don’t always come out as quickly as I would like or as well as I would like the first time but that’s what editing is about. Trimming the fat and expose the juicy meat of what really wants to be said, all of that jazz.

I am going to be happy one way or another. I will find a way, a notion of where ideally I would like to be and where I realistically can be. No doubt that I will challenge the realistic position with the ideal position or that I’ll lose ground only to make it then later find out I’ve changed and somethings don’t matter as much as they once did.

People change. I change. I have changed, I’ve changed a lot in the last few years and I don’t think that I will ever stop changing. How things are interpreted, how things are acted upon in life, be it digital or real, depend on perspective. As much as we might (well I might) hate to believe that we’re constantly moving, constantly editing the narrative of our own lives, we are. We’re moving in the direction in which convinces at this moment, this very moment, the most and then it changes a second later. The shared history we have between people, between friends, acquaintances, allies, lovers and enemies is in constant flux depending upon the mood we find ourselves in.

Or at least to me that’s what I find. When I am angry the way in which I remember things is sharper, more defined, more angular almost. It reminds me of being defensive sometimes, when I feel like I am defending something worthwhile I am filled with a righteousness that has a slight angular taste.

When I am sad things are grey. I kid you not, my memories are greyer, more monotone. I remember things not as well as I should either when I am sad or depressed. Entire blocks of time are lost when I am depressed and suddenly it’s a month later than what I had thought it to be. Time both takes forever to dole itself out yet is spent faster than I can remember.

Happy is one of the weirder emotions for me. Things are more green, more yellow, citrus and ginger are happy smells. It’s just. Citrus and ginger smell like happy. Things are brighter, colours bolder and memories are more likely to invoke Cheshire cat smiles. These memories are the bright and shining stars, they provide guidance, hope when everything melts from grey into black.

I don’t have all of the answers, I never claimed to. I do, however, have a conviction that I will be happy. That in this ever winding maze of a life I damn well better be as happy as I want and that I matter. No matter what, I have meaning, I have purpose and most importantly I have people that care about who I let.

À bientôt!

Zed

 

Snow flakes and neurosis

It’s a snowy afternoon here, it is much warmer than it had been earlier this week and it is a little more calm. I finished up with the workshop I went to because of how bad my GPA last semester was. As a workshop it was nice. It was a lot better than many of the workshops I’ve had to go / take part of in the last year.

It gave me time to think, to re evaluate. I like writing, I like english however something one of my friend’s said yesterday is kinda digging at me. She said that she had to give up English as a major, had to accept writing as a pipe dream because she has a child and needs to have a career after her undergrad. She’s majoring in psych so far.

It came off as very defeatist to me.

I don’t like defeatist things. There is a limit on how hard you should try for something and lines where defeat is acceptable however to me it should not be accepted right off the bat. It’s counter productive, it doesn’t help anything when you’ve already determined that you’re going to lose at something, that no matter how much you may want or believe in something that because you think you cannot do it, that it is futile any effort will be wasted. It bothers me more than it really should.

I dig in. I throw everything I can into the things I do, I run head long into the unknown sometimes. I jump before looking and I know that somehow I will land on my feet. That I am strong ,maybe a bit more lucky, enough to make my own luck and survive no matter what. So I have faith in my convictions, I have belief in what I believe to be right and what ideals I adhere to. I know that I am hard to deal with, that I am full of sharp edges and things that many people may not agree with. I know that I am complicated, that I am incredibly lucky and that many people would not to chose to go through life like how I have.

I know these things.

It still bothers me though. It’s almost like it’s a personal attack on me when people are incredibly defeatist, when they accept mediocricyinstead of wanting to be better. Do better, try harder, to change how they are perceived in the world and how their world is perceived by them. It shouldn’t but it does.

I am always, in the back of my mind, striving to be better. To be better at life, to be better at being myself and to someday be better off than I am now. It’s kind of self centered to say that I am the only who does this, I’m not. Lately it has just seemed that many people are fine to be trapped into a life where half assing it fine. Rewarded even and it grates at me.

I’m not perfect. I do not have the answers.

However I do know that I can only do the best that I can. And at the end of the day, it’s something that I have to accept.

I am so rant-y in this.

I’ll write again soon!

À bientôt!

Zed

Greetings again!

I love this video so much right now. It puts into feelings, exposes better than I could. 

I’ve been putting off writing here for awhile. For a long time I just didn’t feel like it, like it wouldn’t make any kind of difference one way or another. Only, it does make a difference. I get better at typing out my thoughts, my ideas and in that I re examine why I believe those things. And how.

I believe that there are different ways to experience things. Which is kinda neat. I don’t think that this blog will ever get a larger readership; however it might have some people who check in from time to time. Maybe I’ll get much better at writing, at typing, at explaining and examining things and people will want to read it. Who knows.

I am hard to get a hold. I am slippery. I make plans and then sometimes social anxiety gets to me. It sucks but sometimes being surrounded by people is a frightening thing. Or the way in which I am dressed suddenly becomes reprehensible; how could I possibly imagine that this would be a good idea to wear. My confidence is fleeting at times. I do like socializing with some people, that’s the crux of all this. There are some people whom I would rather not socialize with though and the way/shape/form I socialize is odd.

I suck at picking up on body language. I know when something is wrong, sometimes with body language but still. It can be awkward when people crack a joke, when it’s encoded within sarcasm or black humor and I get part of it but still. People with body language is odd. Like I can pick up when people are happy and I’m doing what they want, it’s still odd.

I guess it’s like learning another language.

So this semester, along with getting a better GPA I am going to grow some confidence. That doesn’t try to flee at odd moments. What I do know and when I do get things, I get them. I’m that person sitting in the classroom who’s bored out of their skull when they understand what they’re doing, giving more complex answers than what’s warranted and that generally stops any kind of conversation or is so far outside the realm of conversation it’s kind of stupid. I am that person. The idiot savant. You would think that I’d be more self confident more of the time but it’s odd.

Anyways I’ve rambled quite a bit.

À bientôt!

I promise to write sooner again!

Zed ❤