Well flist. At the ripe old age of twenty today I am going on my first Black Friday adventure. Just To See, you know? firelady113 I are awake (poor fools that we are) and going to head out in the very near future.

We've lost our minds, haven't we. x)

Happy Halloween, guys. :)

I need to write in here more. o.o

Good:
- Singing opera as loud as I want in the shower because there is nobody around to bitch
- Rescuing the firefly that has been trapped in my window for three days and setting it free
- ASDFASDFASDFASDF ♥♥♥ /dorkdorkdork omg
- Windchimes :)

Bad:
- Guilt
- Not being able to sleep until I'm literally unable to stay awake a second longer. On a regular basis. Sometimes it's merciful and I can sleep at only about 5% ability to stay awake.
- People
- "Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody." - J.D. Salinger = hxc truth



Now it's time for bed. Maybe. Time for something.

Taken directly from the WMATA website:



Metro's definition of "mechanical difficulties" and mine are two extremely different things.





Last weekend we had two suicides in as many days, and nothing about them either. I was on the red line on Sunday, and they only referred to it as a "report of someone struck by a train," and only in that wording once. From then on they referred to it as "police activity at Bethesda station."

One train on top of another and up to nine deaths I guess they figure they can't really hide from the public that well. Or maybe disaster on a large scale is more savory and immediately accessible than personal tragedy, the driving forces and fine balances behind one person's decision.

But that's a rant for another time.

So somehow I've accumulated $68 of change in a McCutcheon's jar.

How should I spend it? :)

And how is it I've forgotten how to sleep until I physically cannot stay awake anymore? :/

This is mainly for my own perverse satisfaction, but it has been a long time coming. A very, very long time coming.

Hello, flist. Allow me to introduce to you the veritable bane of my literary existence.

Sylvia Plath Hughes.



There she is, in the 1960s equivalent of a myspace picture. Look how sad she is about her life. Bawww, Sylvia, bawww.

I can’t remember when I encountered Plath and her work for the first time. However I am fairly certain that my hatred for her came to the forefront of my awareness sometime during the course of my high school career. To be fair that’s about the same time I came to dislike reading in general, but there is certainly no other writer for whom I hold such a deep aversion.

Here is why.

( i. the poet herself. )

( ii. plath's work as a reflection of the poet. )

( iii. in conclusion. )

*taken from Sylvia's own piteous question, "Is there no way out of the mind?" and the obvious answer that clearly there is, because the crazy bitch certainly appears to have found it.

You God-damned little creepy motherfuckers,

If I see you I will spray your ass with Febreze Air Effects (the lavender vanilla and comfort variety, if you want to know) until you don't fucking move. And if you do then I'll squirt berry scented hand sanitizer (a commodity very precious to me so I'll be really pissed) on you until you really don't move.

In summary? Come into my space and you're a dead son of a bitch.

Fuck you very truly,

Emily, destroyer of invertebrate worlds

ETA:

Little baby spider,

NO MERCY. NO REPRIEVE.

No love,

Emily


ETA2:

HUGEASS MOSQUITO,

YOU TOO, ASSHOLE.

FUCKIN' A,

EMILY


ETA3:

Got fr srs bsnss bug spray. ;D

I just thought I'd mention that talking to my father is like talking to a small child, probably one under the age of about two and a half. They babble, make noises they think are words, wholly believe that they are having a serious conversation with you and all you can do is smile, nod, and try not to lose your damn mind.

It kind of disappears into the margin there so you can read it better here. :)

Yeah that definitely made me lol just a little. It's always nice to hear those crazy miserable confessional poets had some fun in their time too. xD

i. I wanted to take this opportunity to clear up the fact that no matter what the Department of Homeland Security tells you, yes I am one of those conservatives and no I don't like the Obamessiah but do not call me a terrorist. Okay? Okay. This pisses me off. A lot. This is not goddamn Nazi Germany. This is the United States of America and look at the polarisation that is going on between the left and the right. I am not liking the direction the general political environment in this country is moving in. We're basically going to be the death of each other.

ii. In other news, tomorrow I go down to D.C. to get my vegan birthday cake. Yesss.

iii. Turning 20? Not so yesss. :/

iv. I uh. Apparently really do want to be a poet. Don't laugh... well, okay, maybe just a little. x)

v. I think it's bedtime.