Dick Clark and a Fallen America

My dad could die, but Dick Clark never would. He could live forever.

And then he didn’t.

Dearie me

There always will come a time when you must kill the thing you love.

Getting away with it

I just won’t take it anymore. Being used, being dismissed. Since i’m working on making a new me,i need a new attitude. I need an attitude to begin with. When someone walks all over my toes, i’ve got to body chuck them as far from me as possible. And take no prisoners.

Darkness

I have a lot to say about feeling alone. About feeling insecure. About having a secret. Or two, or three. After what i’ve seen, after what i’ve done, the fact that commonplace and idealistic morals still apply to me is a cruel joke.

It’s funny how most people want their outsides to match their insides, because they believe that they have souls of pure gold. A happy heart which shines inwardly just as a model shines outwardly. Well i want the opposite. I want my insides to shine as brightly as my outsides do. I want the person that i project outwardly and the person that i am inside to be one in the same.

I have been floating adrift in an empty raft. I sank to the floor of the ocean long ago, but i could never see the surface clear enough to believe i’d actually drowned. I thought maybe i was swimming towards the top of the world, but i’m still anchored to the bottom. Firmly.

I know my place.

Double standards, for the win

The gas-lighting is driving me mad. Here’s the thing. If your boyfriend tells you “Oh, all my ex girlfriends were seriously crazy. So crazy. They were all nuts” then he’s a complete and total idiot. And you’re an even bigger idiot for buying it. You really think that in every relationship your boyfriend has ever been in, it was all the fault of the women that everything went wrong? Men can do this, throw the guise over your eyes to make you believe against all better logic that they are perfect as a mate and more importantly that YOU are perfect for choosing them. Never mind the fact that once you disapprove of anything that he does, or disagree, or get angry with him for doing something you think is totally wrong, then YOU will become the crazy one. Because he is and will remain perfect. Just so you know, when he breaks up with you, or you him, he will be telling his next perfectly fine girlfriend that you were crazy. You were bat-shit insane. He’s so glad he got out of that relationship, and he went through so much. And the new girl will eat it up, because women were programmed to believe what men want us to believe–that we are crazy, manipulative, and emotionally outrageous she-devils with no sense of self-worth. It’s easier for us to judge each other. That way we’re too busy fighting ourselves to notice that SHIT STILL ISN’T EQUAL. And as long as men run 90 percent of the American media circus, we’ll continue to watch endless arrays of women in bikinis sell cheeseburgers, while “feminism” is a dirty word which projects an image of an angry man-hating lesbian with combat boots. We can’t even have feminism anymore, because now it’s considered anti-feminine to be a feminist. All this kind of shit makes me sick. And we just perpetuate it, and perpetuate it… I can’t wait (I really can wait) to have a daughter so I can raise her to be aware of these double standards and fucked up gender politics. I dream of having… Well, a baby Tina Fey would be ideal. A Tina Fey baby with glasses and everything. Just some more bad ass ladies taking down the male-media driven world, one funny sitcom at a time.

Just as homework though, turn on your television and watch a regularly scheduled half-hour sitcom on any channel. Count how many commercials focus on a hot girl, the promise of sex with a hot girl, the hot girl as a prop, or the hot girl selling shit through thinly veiled innuendos. Pathetic. We can’t come up with any better ways to sell shit in 2012?

Anyway, ladies… Just think for yourselves. That’s all I ask. I know that sounds incredibly condescending, like i’m calling women stupid right after preaching for equality, but that’s not the case. I just know how deeply the female psyche has been permeated by the masculine tendencies of gas-lighting. Dear Men–No, women are not crazy merely because we have emotions and choose to express them. No, we are not crazy because we don’t think you’re perfect like your mother thinks you are. No, we are not crazy just because we broke up with you, or because we did or said things out of anger, like you have also done.

I’ll just go back to my combat boots now.

I heard a fly buzz when i died

There was a bug in my shirt today. A little black flying bug that wouldn’t fly, just crawled around inside the billowy white blouse, not even touching my skin. I scooped it out and flicked it far away with my fingers. It’s such a simple little thing, but i keep wondering why he didn’t use his wings to fly away. He just crawled along and let me flick him away. Even now he’s not flying. I don’t see him anywhere.

We can do it

So here’s the god honest truth.

Sometimes, you just gotta shave your legs to prove to yourself there’s some leg underneath all that feminist protesting.

Power plays

My light bulb went off today. I give people, especially men, too much power over me. I give them all the power to make me feel as little or as senseless as they need me to be. Reclaiming our own self-worth and intrinsic value is what all women need to do in order to feel legitimized. We need to take back the power, and take it back now, or else we will lose the mental clarity to draw the line between who we are and who we are brainwashed into being.

Isn’t it not funny at all

Everybody in America just needs to take a chill pill, to borrow from that inane eighties catchphrase. We all just need to eat a special brownie, write a poem about a rainbow, and hug it out. Truly. Because i’m just sick and tired of this shit being so hard and confusing. Life can be easy. You just gotta let it go.

Is there someone that will carry you on their shoulders?

Life is unfair. Just because you would give someone the shirt off your back does not mean they would do the same for you. Actually, it probably means exactly the inverse in all situations, since takers and givers are naturally drawn to one another. I want to be a giver paired with a giver. Just once in my lifetime. In life, friendship, love. Just somebody to pick up the slack once in awhile. Someone to carry me on their shoulders, for just a little longer.

I feel bummed out tonight, world. Can’t quite put my finger it. Pretty sure it has something to do with that whole break up thing. Damn it all if we aren’t just strangers outside the bedroom anyway. Were we always like that?