The mind is one hell of a trip!
Well, at least mine is... I bet there are much stronger people out there... there has to be, right? There's always a group of folk who refuse to get brainwashed. I know Kelley has always been someone I can depend on to never drink the Kool-Aid. Me? Homie, I like to think I don't, but sometimes I'm chugging that shit straight out of the punch bowl.
Luckily, I have numerous friends who manage to slap that bowl out of my firm grip and snap me back to healthy consciousness-- like Kelley, she does it gently, of course.
Being brainwashed, or under some weirdo spell, is hard to explain. It literally does feel like you're a numb little drone... well, it feels that way when you look at shit in retrospect. DURING the time of the mental-game, your mind is preoccupied with only thinking about... well, the subject on which you're getting fixated.
"Waking up" from the mind-lapse ranges as far as "found emotions" is concerned.
Sometimes, there's a lot of laughing... hysterical laughter at the embarrassing shit I said/did/thought (what I am currently experiencing).
Other times, there's rage... How the FUCK did I allow this to happen?! WHAT THE FUCK?! (What I usually experience)
I don't know how to snap out of shit... I mean, as in, I don't know how to do it to myself. It's not like I seek it, most of the time. I often don't feel I have to snap out of anything-- it just happens. When I snap back to reality, and being myself, I "feel" it... literally that trite shit they speak of on TV and movies... where you just feel this crazy clarity. This weight I didn't even know I was carrying, is suddenly lifted.
I go back to "feeling" like myself... you know, that upbeat kid who laughed about everything... sincerely laughed. That witty funny girl... who is sometimes a little too active and excited about shit.
No, that really IS ME. When things aren't bogging me down, I am that fucking kid who runs and laughs and skips and runs some more (I didn't start hating the whole running game until I gained tits... such a disadvantage. Jiggling boobs hurt. As a kid, no one ever tells you to enjoy your fun time running around because adulthood will more than likely give you jiggling titties that will make you pay every single skip you take).
It's pretty cool to notice this side returning to me. I honestly hate being the angry, aggressive girl I've been the last... three years or so.
What most mind-fucks me, and turns me into a complete imbecile, is the crush-- liking a dude. I guess my brain just doesn't know how to handle that shit.
"Twitterpation" is real, man, so real... and it FUCKS the shit out of me.
Will I ever learn how to handle "love"? I hope so.
But let me tell you, not being preoccupied with thoughts of a dude is liberating AS FUCK. (How do people know I'm legitimately happy? I swear a lot... A LOT. I'm reading this over and thinking "Jesus, you sure are cussing a lot right now, dude..." Sorry. Happy swearing, is all)
I like being myself.
And laughing about what an imbecile I was for... fixating.
And then apologizing to EVERYONE for my previously exhibited behavior... because it's shitty to deal with for everyone.
I think I have Monday's hangout (there were a number of us at the gathering-- all science teachers, except for me of course... which made me feel weird. I was that girl who hangs out with the folks educating college kids... the adults these youngsters bitch about online. It felt WEIRD as fuck... especially when they were all at least 10 years my seniors. "Why didn't I bump into you at school?" "Because... you were probably educating my peers and I was just lost in the sea of students? I'm a chameleon.") to thank for my current moment of clarity. The hangout and the subsequent, impromptu mini "roadtrip" was a nice, gentle slap to consciousness.
A nice "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! WAKE UP, you IDIOT!"
I swear, some fucking negative nancy comes over to ruin my shit, they WILL get punched. Fuck that shit, man... don't kill my good-ass vibe that takes fucking months to restore. Don't do that to me, man.
And I especially don't want some hot, hilarious man to try befriending me and once more fuck up my brain chemistry.
Come to me if you want to laugh and be happy... not so we can throw a pity party. These last few months have been a never-ending pity party that really hasn't done anything for me but legitimately injured my heart and probably shortened my lifespan (then again, who the fuck wants to live past 100? Apparently, my genes think it's a good idea... and my heart's like "Not if I have anything to say about it!" But that's a different post).
Well, at least mine is... I bet there are much stronger people out there... there has to be, right? There's always a group of folk who refuse to get brainwashed. I know Kelley has always been someone I can depend on to never drink the Kool-Aid. Me? Homie, I like to think I don't, but sometimes I'm chugging that shit straight out of the punch bowl.
Luckily, I have numerous friends who manage to slap that bowl out of my firm grip and snap me back to healthy consciousness-- like Kelley, she does it gently, of course.
Being brainwashed, or under some weirdo spell, is hard to explain. It literally does feel like you're a numb little drone... well, it feels that way when you look at shit in retrospect. DURING the time of the mental-game, your mind is preoccupied with only thinking about... well, the subject on which you're getting fixated.
"Waking up" from the mind-lapse ranges as far as "found emotions" is concerned.
Sometimes, there's a lot of laughing... hysterical laughter at the embarrassing shit I said/did/thought (what I am currently experiencing).
Other times, there's rage... How the FUCK did I allow this to happen?! WHAT THE FUCK?! (What I usually experience)
I don't know how to snap out of shit... I mean, as in, I don't know how to do it to myself. It's not like I seek it, most of the time. I often don't feel I have to snap out of anything-- it just happens. When I snap back to reality, and being myself, I "feel" it... literally that trite shit they speak of on TV and movies... where you just feel this crazy clarity. This weight I didn't even know I was carrying, is suddenly lifted.
I go back to "feeling" like myself... you know, that upbeat kid who laughed about everything... sincerely laughed. That witty funny girl... who is sometimes a little too active and excited about shit.
No, that really IS ME. When things aren't bogging me down, I am that fucking kid who runs and laughs and skips and runs some more (I didn't start hating the whole running game until I gained tits... such a disadvantage. Jiggling boobs hurt. As a kid, no one ever tells you to enjoy your fun time running around because adulthood will more than likely give you jiggling titties that will make you pay every single skip you take).
It's pretty cool to notice this side returning to me. I honestly hate being the angry, aggressive girl I've been the last... three years or so.
What most mind-fucks me, and turns me into a complete imbecile, is the crush-- liking a dude. I guess my brain just doesn't know how to handle that shit.
"Twitterpation" is real, man, so real... and it FUCKS the shit out of me.
Will I ever learn how to handle "love"? I hope so.
But let me tell you, not being preoccupied with thoughts of a dude is liberating AS FUCK. (How do people know I'm legitimately happy? I swear a lot... A LOT. I'm reading this over and thinking "Jesus, you sure are cussing a lot right now, dude..." Sorry. Happy swearing, is all)
I like being myself.
And laughing about what an imbecile I was for... fixating.
And then apologizing to EVERYONE for my previously exhibited behavior... because it's shitty to deal with for everyone.
I think I have Monday's hangout (there were a number of us at the gathering-- all science teachers, except for me of course... which made me feel weird. I was that girl who hangs out with the folks educating college kids... the adults these youngsters bitch about online. It felt WEIRD as fuck... especially when they were all at least 10 years my seniors. "Why didn't I bump into you at school?" "Because... you were probably educating my peers and I was just lost in the sea of students? I'm a chameleon.") to thank for my current moment of clarity. The hangout and the subsequent, impromptu mini "roadtrip" was a nice, gentle slap to consciousness.
A nice "WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?! WAKE UP, you IDIOT!"
I swear, some fucking negative nancy comes over to ruin my shit, they WILL get punched. Fuck that shit, man... don't kill my good-ass vibe that takes fucking months to restore. Don't do that to me, man.
And I especially don't want some hot, hilarious man to try befriending me and once more fuck up my brain chemistry.
Come to me if you want to laugh and be happy... not so we can throw a pity party. These last few months have been a never-ending pity party that really hasn't done anything for me but legitimately injured my heart and probably shortened my lifespan (then again, who the fuck wants to live past 100? Apparently, my genes think it's a good idea... and my heart's like "Not if I have anything to say about it!" But that's a different post).
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