I am a magnet for freaks. This problem seems to haunt me wherever I go, especially on the internet. I don't feel like discussing it that much other than to say that every male I meet on the internet (either through games or forums or what have you) has some overwhelming urge to dissect me or analyze me like I'm some strange enigma to unravel.

Okay, yeah, I admit that I can sometimes say things that might be weird to others. I have a sorta blunt honesty about myself and how I see the world. In some fucked up way, men see this as an invitation to figure me out. Nevermind they don't know me, nevermind I openly tell them I'm not interested in them, and nevermind I usually have no idea why they find me interesting. For these reasons, I really hate the internet at times. I'll turn off instant messenger programs to get away from it. I'll tone down my personality and be quiet. I'm a watcher in life, and I like to be a watcher on the internet. I don't take advantage of the anonymity and put on some fake personality to attract attention.... And somehow, this translates to putting a neon sign over my head that reads "Please, oh, please, make me normal."

Every guy, every fucking last one, whether they are single or married or in some relationship... it doesn't matter... they will, at some point in time, try to analyze me and tell me things to do to be whatever their idea of normal is. Nine times out of ten, their idea of normal involves having sex. Have sex and the world will make sense. Have sex and your life will have meaning. Have sex and you won't feel so lonely. I should make up a prepared speech or something because I'm asked about this shit so often by total strangers. They all want to know why or they assume something happened to me to make me this way.

Well, here it is--a small summary of why I have no interest in sex:

Yes, I was sexually abused as a child. It happened when I was about 4-7 years old, and my abuser was my sister who is only 4 years older than me.

I do not feel that this had any impact on my sexuality or damaged me in any way. We were both children, and children do weird things. When I was that little, I had no sexual identity or libido and wasn't even developed enough to have any desire for pleasure or desire to make da babies.

When I was ten years old, my sister was 14 and had a very sexual relationship with her boyfriend. To say that they had a lot of sex would be an understatement. Any time, anywhere. They had sex in the bed that I slept in. They had sex on the couch. They had sex in my dad's car. They had sex in the swimming pool (don't ask me how...). They had sex outside under the trees. Many times, I would be in the same room when this was going on. I have a very frightening memory of playing Nintendo at the foot of the bed while they had sex behind me. I was in the swimming pool a few times when they were having sex. I could be downstairs, watching TV and hear my sister upstairs moaning like she was sitting right beside me.

Does my dad know about this? No. At the time he found out that she was sexually active, he was upset... but she didn't even get a slap on the wrists. My mom took her to a gyno and had her put on the pill. My sister took great pleasure in teasing me that I would have to go to a gyno when I was 16-18, knowing that I hate doctors.

Did this fuck me up in the head? Oh, you bet. How could it not, really? My sister disgusted me, and I swore that I would never be like her. I'd find little notes to her boyfriend about wanting to have his baby, and I would want to throw up. Watching that screwed up relationship play out for four years, learning that he'd cheated on her all through it (what a surprise), and that he'd knocked-up some other girl only confirmed that I was right to feel like I did about it from the start.

It was about this time, when I was 14, that I decided many crucial things. 1) I did not want to have children. I knew then and I know now that I could never be a fit parent. And I'm terrified of my shitty genepool being carried on and then having to explain to the poor kid why I gave birth to 'em, knowing they'd be some manic-depressive little shit just like me. I also do not want to be responsible for another human life. I can't even take care of my own. 2) Back then I strongly believed that sex was being horribly abused by humans as a source of pleasure. I still believe this, but, hey, wrap it up and I don't care what you do with it. A lot of people don't even think of procreation when they think about having sex. They just do it because it feels good... nevermind the whole reason they feel the urge to do it is an instinctual thing to pass on their DNA. If sex didn't feel good, the human race would have died out long ago. We couldn't be arsed to carry on. 3) If sex is an expression of love and the desire for intimacy, holy shit, count me out.

Now, I grew up a little. Over time, my convictions evolved and logic became the strongest weapon in my artillery. As I went through puberty, I did feel a desire for men and a longing for companionship. But it was never strong enough to develope into more than a crush. Any time a guy was interested in me, I was horrified. It caused me to want to be as unattractive as possible to the opposite sex. Don't look at me; don't even think about it. I'd put up mental roadblocks, too, to deter even the most desperate guys from getting any ideas.

As it stands now, I don't think there's anything wrong with sex. I slipped up and fell in love, but it turned out to be very educational, I guess. Unfortunately, it also made me feel very insecure with myself about what I had done and how I'd been living. Here I am, the celibate brickwall, and I can't even do that right. I had a ferocious libido when I was in love.

I'm back at sqaure one. I have no desire to be in love again or to have sex. Love, despite what people or books or movies tell you, does not solve all your problems. I was just as fucked up while I was in love as I was before and as I am now. Heartbreak left me no worse than I was before. It just made me hurt more but for different reasons.

So, take your sexual healing and shove it up your ass. Stop trying to put me back in the genepool. Stop trying to fix me.

how jedi are you? :: by lawrie malen

>.> K.

*listening to Nine Inch Nails, With_Teeth*

I've been up since 3am this time. Keeping such weird hours really makes you lose touch with time and dates and what the hell is sunshine?

It's so easy to tear people down when you don't know them. And everyone I have ever met is guilty of doing it. Everyone. Some people are more clever, more witty with their insults. I'm just fucking blunt. Trouble is, I don't tear anyone down unless they step on my toes with their stupidity. I'm not one of those people that just attack to level someone down, make sure they're below me, make sure I'm above them, make sure I have more value than them.

Nah, I leave most people alone. My dad's the type that levels people. Hippies are below him, democrats are below him, gays are below him. Women aren't even on his planet. Maybe that's why fate gave him two daughters. My sister's just like him--'cept for the women thing. My mom and I are kinda "to each his own" people. Whatever floats your boat. But she's more of a "just stay outta my ocean" person, and I'm a "the ocean's big enough for all of us" person.

Where was I? Fucking sleepy is where I am. Meh, I can make it stretch.

Let's all make fun of Scientology now.

*1 minute passes*

Man, that was easy.

Atomic Fireballs, anyone?

So, yeah, I don't like people that have a fucking opinion about everything. It's probably because I've had the opinions of others forced on me through my entire life. I like weighing things inside my head, forming an opinion of my own based on the facts. If I feel the need to tell others about it, I'll at least support it with reason... not just spout of "This sucks" and assume you will agree.

Heh, maybe that's why liberals and so-called environmentalists turn me off so much. They tell you something, tell you it's bad, tell to join their cause... but they never tell you why. Never explain. Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't give a shit about liberals or the democratic party. And I feel the same way about republicans. I feel the same way about any extreme side of a spectrum, be it politics or sexuality.

If I don't like what I'm hearing, I have fingers which fit perfectly in my ears! I have no idea what I am writing anymore. I lost my point a few paragraphs ago.

0rz

Well, if you find yourself opening your mouth to say something mean about someone because you think you're being funny and you're definitely superior to that person, please, take off your shoe and stick it in your mouth. Give it a nice long suck. The taste will probably be just as satisfying as tearing some random person down who may or may not ever hear what you're thinking about them.

I say this because I'm flat fucking sick of hearing people say the most retarded crap about other people in an attempt to be funny.

The next time you're sitting around wherever with whomever and someone says something like "Heheh... look at that guy wearing that make-up" or "Oh my god, her roots are like an 2 inches long," I suggest you take off your shoe and beat this someone with it. Beat them like they're trying to steal your wallet. Beat them like they're filling your brain with pointless information. And if they ask you why, tell them you felt the need to hurt them as much as they felt the need to talk about someone they don't know. Oops, my bad.

If only people would smack me around with a shoe when I say dumb things....

I just changed the layout, motherbitches. (Actually, I just changed the background and layout colors because I R LAY-Z) NO MORE GREEN.

The sea�s evaporated
Though it comes as no surprise
These clouds we�re seeing
Their explosions in the sky
It seems it�s written
But we can�t read between the line

Hush
It�s okay
Dry your eye
Dry your eye
Soulmate dry your eye
Dry your eye
Soulmate dry your eye
Cause soulmates never die

This one world vision
Turns us in to compromise
What good�s religion
When it�s each other we despise
Damn the government
Damn the killing
Damn the lies

Hush
It�s okay
Dry your eyes
Dry your eyes
Soulmate dry your eyes
Dry your eyes
Soulmate dry your eyes
Cause soulmates never die

Soulmates never die
Never die
Soulmates never die
Never die...
Soulmates never die
Soulmates never die
Soulmates never die
Soulmates never die

Placebo~ Sleeping with Ghosts

It should come to no surprise to you that I am staying up without sleep right now as I try to fix my sleeping hours again. I made myself a nice big breakfast of bacon n' eggs, toast, some grapes, and orange juice. To pass the time, I am doing laundry and watching really horrible movies on cable. I suspect that if I do not keep myself busy, I'll crash on the couch. I know what you're thinking: "If only my life could be as entertaining."

I've found myself thinking about things I shouldn't think about lately. Perhaps this is due to actually having proper doses of hormones? Bah, who knows? And what is proper, anyway? But still, in those idle hours before I fall asleep (yes, hours), I often wonder about people that came and went from my life. I have to drive those thoughts from my brain with fantasies, hoping the former don't glue themselves onto my dreams.

I wonder how long I will last today before I give up and dive into bed.

Hahahaha... I found the handcuffs Kristen bought me in high school. They were on the inside doorknob of my closet. I still have the keys, too! Wow... flashbacks n' stuff.

I should be sleeping now. -.- I so easily get my sleep schedule thrown off, it seems. This time, it's due to reading, playing games, and one migraine that finally went away yesterday afternoon.

Oh well.

Time is just twinkling by, anyhow. Funny how I get motivated to do things at the most retarded times. Such as cleaning. I always get the urge to clean in the middle of the night or early morning. Which is probably why not a lot of cleaning gets done, because I'm sleeping. Well, when I'm sleeping at night, anyhow. Hmph.

Yeah, I'm probably gonna have myself a nice fat nap soon. That deep, gummy sleep that clings to your bones and slithers into your flesh is the kinda sleep I'll have. That's good stuff when you have plenty of time to wake up. Now, if you're up by alarm clock... that sleep will leave you yawning for five hours or so. But if you're lucky enough to wake up and hug your pillows for another half hour, shit, enjoy it while you can. I plan to.

This is one of my favorite shows. I believe I have mentioned it before, but I just felt the need to remind everyone. I watched the college episode earlier. (Hurray for on demand--when it's actually working.)

Out of boredom, I began reading the Vampire Diaries again. These books, along with all the other LJ Smith young adult books, were some of the first books I actually read cover-to-cover which weren't assigned to me in a classroom. As some of you know, I hated reading when I was a kid. It was my weakest subject in school (back when they called english classes "reading"). Oh, I was literate. No problem there. But reading had never been part of my life. My parents never read to me, and I found that when I read school crap, I was rather slow. As in, I would have to reread sentences several times before they made sense to me.

In middle school, my horrid sixth grade teacher assumed I was just lazy--which is what they did in elementary school, too. I spent 2 years of elementary school in SAFE practically every day. Seventh grade wasn't much better. Somehow, I was put into an advanced class... and that teacher, Ms. Sloan, focused on teaching sentence structure. We'd diagram sentences on the board, learning things which were neither here nor there in the real world. Needless to say, I did poorly in that class. I didn't fail; I just found it tremendously pointless, and my brain refused to wrap around it.

The next year, I was put in stupid people English. By stupid people, I mean bottom-of-the-gene-pool morons. These were people that didn't do homework because either they were capable and just didn't want to or they were too stupid to write a full sentence with a subject and a predicate. Oh, lucky me. The class was a smack in the face. They might as well have branded "dumbass" into my forehead. I think the teacher wondered why the hell I was placed in there after she found I was getting 100% marks on everything and usually finished essays or whatever busy work she gave in minutes. When she asked me about it, all I could do was smirk and tell her what people had told me for years--that they thought I was lazy.

Anyway, it was around the 7th and 8th grade that I began reading for enjoyment. I never knew there was good stuff to read out there because there really was no open media to discover new authors. You know, like... watching a video on MTV and deciding, "Hey, I like that song. I think I will buy the CD." No one in my family read fiction. It was my friend Julie who introduced me to some books she liked. She'd been reading for enjoyment her whole life.

I sometimes contemplate which aspects of my life put me off of reading. Was it the dyslexia, the struggle to read and comprehend things fast enough? I rarely finished a books I was supposed to write a reports on for class because I couldn't read them fast enough. Was it the fact that reading wasn't a big thing in my house? The only literature we took in every week was a TV Guide. Was it just the material I was made to read in class being so boring that I had no interest in it? It was probably all these things.

Dyslexia's not a problem for me, anymore. Sure, I might still reverse letters in words or reverse words in sentences (don't fuck the slamming door), but it doesn't bother me. Sometimes, I even screw up when I'm typing because my brain reverses M's and B's; I'll type my instead of by or vice versa. I do that when I write, too. But I've got a backspace key and an eraser, so fuck you!

Where was I? Oh, the Vampire Diaries. I'm on the last book right now. I really loved these books when I was a kid. I read them now, and I think, "Wow, I can't stand Elena... it's a wonder I read this." Elena being the main character. When I'm done with this series, I'm going to read all the others again for shits and giggles.

They bring back a lot of memories.

O_o; So, after not having a period for 6 months and starting to seriously be concerned, I magically got one. I never thought I'd be happy to have a period--ever. In fact, I'd be quite happy to live without one if there weren't a risk of diabetes and cancer and generally being fucked up. But, I got one... so my mind is eased. Hurrah. I am woman hear me... whimper in pain.

*whimper whimper*

I know that it might not solve all my problems, but it's a good sign, so I'll take what I can get.

*listening to Prince, "Raspberry Beret"*

Is this a cramp I am feeling *gasp*.

Anyway, time's getting away from me. I've slowed up on doing things around the house this week, and it's time for me to go out and get job applications and school applications. >< ICK.

they say the first time ain't the greatest...

What? I like a wide variety of music. Right now, in my Winamp window, I see Enya, Ayumi Hamasaki, Tori Amos, Prince, Front Line Assembly, and VNV Nation. Variety is good. OOooO Parasite Eve Primal Eyes.

It's so fucking hot outside. Clothes melting off skin hot.

I watched this thing on the National Geographic channel about other forms of humans. O_O To my astonishment, there once existed a species of man called "hobbits." No shit. They were under 4 feet tall. They lived in what is now Indonesia--and modern man probably came face to face with them as modern man was making his way to the down under. Unfortunately, Hobbits were wiped off the face of the earth when a volcano went 'splodey. T_T

Learning is cool! Stay in school!

Mmmm Wolfsheim.

A friend lent me a book on PCOS (or PCOD--polycystic ovarian disease/syndrome). Boy, is that a fun read.

I'm burning a cd for Toni. Actually, I'm making a copy for myself with WMP because I've never used it before for burning and it might fuck up >.> because windows programs are dumb like that. But we shall see.

Anyway, haven't been motivated to do anything the last few days. My mom's back in Texas for a week, leaving me to check on her damn cats again. /joy.

Um... why am I writing? I have nothing to write about.

So, here's a nice thought to chew on: I haven't had a period in six months. Actually, it might be longer than that... I never kept track of such things, and I've always been "irregular," whatever that means. But six months without a period, rapid weight gain, bizarre facial hair (random whiskers sprouting from my chin--pleasant, no?), and fatigue kinda lead me to believe something's going on that shouldn't be going on. Namely cysts.

I've done a bit of research on them to see if I do have the symptoms. Oh, boy, do I. But I can't say for sure if that's it. I don't go to doctors; I have no professional opinion. I am a little bit worried, though, because the symptoms I have can lead to diabetes (hormones and insulin all out of whack). The solution I've found in all my research is birth control--in other words, stop ovulation and the cysts will disappear or at least stop fucking with the body's chemistry. Of course, this also means you might be on birth control for the rest of your pre-menopausal life, thus rendering you infertile.

Apparently, cysts are widely common. They occur when an egg prepares to venture from the ovaries, and is bound up in a little sac. The sac is supposed to open up and release the egg during normal menstruation. If the sac doesn't open or is somehow closed up, it turns into a cyst. Okay, so my explanation sucks. Read this, instead.

Hell, two of my close friends have cysts. My mother had/has cysts. I'm not sure about my sister, because she and I don't really talk.

>< Anyhow, this is a tough thing for me to deal with, if in fact I am right. For one, I'm not good at taking care of myself. Two, I'd sooner jab my thumbs into a doctor's eyesockets than let one examine me. Three, I'm broke. HURRAY!

Thoughts? Suggestions?

If you say go to a free clinic or something, I highly doubt they'll sedate my silly ass just to be able to be there and not choke someone. And you can't get prescription drugs without some sort of medical proof.

I have a little assignment for everyone.

While sorting through comics and cleaning, I've had the TV on in the background. This assignment is about commercials. I hate commercials with a passion. Commercials are insecurity-driven bullshit. Buy this car or you won't be cool. Buy this makeup or you'll look your age! Buy this shampoo or your hair is ugly. Buy buy buy. Welcome to America.

We all know how that goes. Anyone with a television set is opening a door into this made up reality of what kind of person you should be. The television and all forms of media are telling people what to look like, what to be. This has been the pattern since TV came into being.

Buy this dish soap or your hands will be rough. Buy this laundry detergent or your clothes will be full of bacteria and body soil--nevermind the fact no one has ever gotten sick or died from body soil in fabric.

Truth in advertising is a tricky, tricky thing. Because no product can absolutely guarantee you'll have clear skin or less wrinkles or whatever, companies are forced to use the word helps. This product helps reduce the appearance of wrinkles. It doesn't actually reduce wrinkles.

Here's your assignment:

While you're actively watching TV or just have it on in the background, write down every single made up ingredient or chemical you hear. Some examples would be botafirm and progenitin.
Write down every word of techno-babble you hear, such as age-defying or repairwear or amino complex.
And lastly, keep a count of how many times you hear the words "help," "helps," "may help," or anything remotely close to helps--like triggers, prevents, boosts, aids, supports, assists, stimulates, nourishes, encourage, etc.
Take note of every commercial that makes you feel inferior unless you're using the product or have what the product provides. (You're not masculine unless you drive this truck, etc.)

I learned many years ago in my cheesy TV/radio class in high school that advertising is all BS. There really is no truth in advertising, but companies can sure dress up their products to make them seem like they do something they do not, as long as they don't come out and say they actually do what they're selling.

If you need a little example of what to look for, consider this:

All new (because old is bad) Fountain of Youth bottled water! We bottle pure (because dirty is bad), chemical-free, hypo-allergenic water directly from the Fountain of Youth. It's been proven to help reduce signs of aging as well as quench your thirst and restore your electrolytes! Fountain of Youth water also helps you feel years younger and assists in the metabolic-kidney functions (AKA pissing) your body maintains throughout the day! Take control of your body; don't let your body tell you how old it is! (fear)

Have fun! Report your findings to me by signing my questbook or sending me an e-mail.