kibi9

Mood: Frustrated, yet simultaneously meh

Listening to: Lady Gaga - "Shake Your Kitty"

Foodz: BBQ chicken Hot Pocket

Nails: Pink, yellow, and black blotches

What's worse than having no ideas is having too many. It's still writer's block, because all these ideas are trying to come out at the same time, and they just form a barrier behind which everything is stuck. There are so many things I want to do right now that I don't know where to start. But it could be worse-- there are times where I try to act on all my ideas at the same time, which usually accomplishes nothing but messing up my room even more.

If I take the time to decide where to start, I'll go crazy, so I just throw stuff out there as it comes to the surface before it sinks back down into the depths of my mind. (Woah. That's deep, Katie-Baker.)
First: I wanna make some sort of sketch comedy show. Gio and Damian know about this already, along with the original title: "Hot and Cold and Katie." It's currently untitled, but it will be a show of various skits. No skits have been written yet, but I have some ideas, and Gio has been coming up with some , too. Does anyone wanna help out? Mainly, sitting around while we try to write "scripts" (lol) but even more important: acting. Even if you don't consider yourself a good or experienced actor, I think you can do it. All you really need to do is act crazy/stupid/whatever, which is basically what we do when we hang out. It will be fun-- and if it gets too stressful, I promise I won't hold anyone hostage. If your the slightest bit interested, let me know. This will be good practice and experience with media production, which is kinda where I'm going with career plans at this point.

I want to write stuff, but I can't. In Creative Writing, I could actually write shit because I had pressure on me to write AND finish things. Anyone wann start some sort of writing club with me? Like, we decide on a topic and write short stories and send them to each other, then give feedback. I dunno, just thinking.

Are we too late for the painting on the rocks behind the high school thing? I think so...

How do you start a club at the high school? I wanna start a dance party club. Sort of a weird dream of mine to have a night club someday, but it would be so cool to have a club at the high school where we meet in some room once or twice a month and have a dance party. Anyone interested in helping me with that? Right now, the only nightclub-ish area I have is my room, which is kinda small and kinda where I live.

You see, I ran the mile for realz. OWW Fuck! I hate you all! I hate you!  *screams* I turned on the radio all like "I hope a good song is on that will make me feel better" and it was Miley Cyrus all doing her thing with the whatnot and such. That made me hurt even more. I wish I could cut off my arms and legs so they wouldn't hurt anymore. LOLESS FLAWGIC.

Shopping List
-Fake Blood (the make-up kind. and maybe the regular kind, just so I can dump it on unsuspecting children. That's what they get for being untainted by the harsh realities of life. Yeah, I'm supah kewwwl.)
-Syringes; the plastic ones. maybe they have 'em for cheap at CVS.
-Creepy Halloween fake injury marks or whatever. like, the things you put on then put make-up around them to be like "I LUK IM WOONDED "

Listening to: Children of Bodom - “Follow the Reaper” (roflcopter excooseme)

Feeling: 3 hours of sleep + 2 hours worth of naps = inadequate for functioning. Go figure.

Thinking: I can't remember what happened this weekend.
At least not in chronological order.   Maybe it's because I went to the mall every day. Damn...

Recent “OMG I Can Totally Relate 2 Dat!” Song: The Ting Tings - “That's Not My Name”

Hearing: Flo Rida - “Right Rou- OH MY GOD WE'RE GONNA DIE. Wait, no, it's okay. Phew.
I love you, butterscotch pancakes. *cries* And strawberry crepe. With cream cheese.  
Or that's what I think it was.   All these weird tastes mixed together.  It felt so wrong, it felt so right lmao!!!! but seriously- pancakes rool.

If you haven't seen Run Lola Run (Lola Rennt, German title) YOU NEED TO. I might have a viewing party (i am sofistaked lawl) at some point so everyone can see it. This summer, depending on how lazy I'm not, I wanna try to do a project. (Since I wanna be a director, I wanna start doing little directing projects/ independent studies of key film elements. )

At the very least, I'd like to do a series of pictures (maybe a few collage-type things) of the major/most dramatic scenes, or crazy visuals for my favorite lines from the movie.
“Lola. What would you do if I died?” -“I wouldn't let you die.” (AWWWWW!!!!)


It scares the shit of me how quickly time is slipping away. It's sad, because I feel like I'm still waking up, but everything's almost over. I hate myself for being asleep for so long. Now days are numbered, and I already miss you guys.

Choc'late stahfish!
Keep on rollin' babaaaaaayyyyy!


Now that I've finally learned how to talk and connect to people when something's wrong, I don't need to do the 'indirect explosion of emotion' thing anymore.

I'm pleased to announce that I'll actually be using my blog as a blog. Crazy shit, no?

I'll be updating it a lot more often, but I'm not really sure. It might be once a week, it might be several times a day. I don't expect you to check it every hour-- or even read it at all, but I'd really like it if you did. (I mean the reading it part, not the checking it every hour part. In fact, I'd appreciate it if you refrained from doing that. Pervert. )

Now let's blog it up in here:

Eating:

The sad remains of Easter candy

 

Smelling:

Midnight Pomegranate hand sanitizer, because apparently pomegranates smell different after 11:59

 

Watching:

The Office season 2 on DVD. I need to buy Seasons 3 and 4 of Oz-- I'm goin' through withdrawal, man. And I need to see what's gonna happen! You would NOT believe what Kareem Said (sigh-EED) did! 'kay, so like, Vern Shillinger and the other members of the Brotherhood were being such typical neo-nazi jerks and hating on Toby Beecher-- again! I know! They had him cornered in the library, and then Said just comes outta nowhere and gives Vern a well-deserved shanking! I KNOW IT'S CRAZY! I myself wouldn't have believed it, but we saw his demons take control once before when he shanked and killed Adebisi several episodes earlier. Toby was totally right 'bout there being a piece of Adebisi's angry/vicious soul alive in Said. Oh, Said, you're so conflicted! But don't worry, buddy. You'll be outta the Hole in no time. Better watch out-- Vern and his guyfriends are gonna be soooo pissed.

 

Hearing:

YOU SPIN MAH HEAD RIGHT ROUND RIGHT ROUND WHEN-- oh fucket you get the point.

 

Writing:

[Coming soon!]

 

Feeling:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvgKUAMHM3A

Yes, I really AM doing the “THIS SONG IS HOW I FEEL” bit. I'M ADORABLE.

Here's the thing: I had a connection to this song (which you should be able to figure out without much thought, because it's so obvious that it's almost cute.) But -that thing- isn't playing its “Lifetime-movie-worthy” role in my life that it was a few months ago. Now this song means something else entirely.

I still can't decide if that's good or bad.



Stay tuned.

"ADEBISI LIVES!!!!! "
 

I am the quintessential martyr.

You ask me if I'm okay.
I say “Yes,” hoping you'll see that what I'm really saying is No.

Of course, you're not a mind reader. You don't see that I'm actually hoping for you to keep asking. (“Are you sure? You don't look so good...”) You don't see that this is a martyr's way of playing the role of the victim-- my way of telling you that I need you.

So you keep moving in your everyday routine, because chances are, you've got your own shit to deal with-- figuring out the secret message behind my intricate mind game isn't really your primary concern.

But the thing is, we martyrs take offense to these things. We're genuinely hurt when we don't receive the sympathy we're secretly begging for. I'm no different. I get upset, and feel the need to passively retaliate by pushing you away-- yet I'm still playing the same role:

-When I leave without saying goodbye, I want someone to try to catch up to me just in time.

-When I'm sitting quietly by myself, I want someone to come over and sit next to me and try to get me talking.

-When I pretend not to see someone in the hallway or sort of avoid them, I'm trying to see how much they care—if they'll make sure I see them and get me to say Hi.

-When I move away from someone, I actually want them to try to pull me closer.

There aren't many things in the world that I love more than people hugging me. You guys probably think I seem really uncomfortable, but I'm not-- I just always have a hard time connecting to people. When someone hugs me, it's an instant connection,which sometimes overwhelms me a bit. But even when a hug feels awkward, I still love it-- I feel understood somehow, and more importantly, I feel loved. The thing is, I'm such an introvert; it's hard for me to run up to someone and throw my arms around them, even if I really want to. Whenever I feel like I've missed an opportunity to hug someone, I actually get really sad. (Sometimes I feel insulted-even if it's really my fault.) I always want to hug you guys, even if it doesn't look that way.

Don't let me shy away from the group- don't give up on me. I don't want to lose anyone because I'm over-emotional and going through a crazy phase.

(Let's hang out more?)

 

I love you all!

I got two hours of sleep. I've been awake since 2am and I don't feel tired at all. (Once I get to school, I'll be exhausted.)

I've been reading http://www.fmylife.com/ for the past two hours.

I had chocolate ice cream because I was hungry, but not hungry enough to eat “real” food. Plus it's too early for breakfast. I'm still hungry.

I've had a random song from Fame stuck in my head for like 10 minutes, which totally makes sense considering I haven't listened to music from that show in 7+ months.

My dog snores loudly. I don't have the heart to kick her out of my room.

I watched 12 episodes (12 hours) of Oz this weekend. (Oz-- that's the name on the street for the Oswald Maximum Security penitentiary.)

I'm going to England on Thursday. I'm really looking forward to it, yet I don't feel as excited as I should be. What is wrong with me? I should be freaking out and screaming “OH MY GOD I'M GOING TO ENGLAND!” right now! Maybe it'll hit me once I step on the airplane. Hopefully.

I might actually have a job soon! A real job, where I get paid with people money so I can buy things in the outside world! I forget what it's like to have money. Like, when you feel something in your pocket and you're like “Hey, what's this? Oh, hey, money. That's kinda cool.”

I think my left ear is more sensitive than the other. It constantly has this uncomfortable ringing, and it's actually painful to hear a 'sharp' sound. (I have to kinda turn my head away as I type right now.)

...

I've given up on falling back to sleep. I'm awake, so I guess I should take advantage of that.

If you hate those overly emotional online journal entries, don't read this, because it just might make your eyes bleed... I'd like to warn people now that I'm going to be really open and honest in this entry, and in whatever entries may follow this one. I'm starting to realize that opening up to people is comforting, even if it does make me look whiny and pathetic. And maybe things will be a little easier if my friends know what's going on. I'm sure you're all getting sick of wondering what I'm thinking whenever I'm sitting apart from a group looking miserable, or why I randomly disappear sometimes without telling anyone where I'm going. Even if nobody reads this, it'll be so comforting to just let it all out-- at least it will be an improvement from keeping things bottled up, or screaming into a pillow, or crying in the middle of a crowd drunken strangers at a dance party on new years eve. But if you do read this, you're basically being a shoulder for me to 'cry' on. That's a bad metaphor-- it's cliche, and implies that I'm literally going to be crying on someone's shoulder, which always unsettled me to think about. I hate crying in front of people. The idea of it is only a little less terrifying than the thought throwing up in public. If the tears start coming on, I do everything possible to pull myself together before someone notices. If someone asks if something's wrong, I start to panic. Wednesday night, I actually let myself be seen. I literally cried on someone's shoulder, something I've never done before. I had been overwhelmed with painful emotions, and in my desperation to get rid of them, I briefly escaped from the state of social starvation that I force myself to go through when I feel miserable.

Where do you start with something like this? Forgive me if it seems like I'm just typing random shit in no particular order.

I think a lot of you know (or at least have a feeling) that I'm clinically depressed. I have dysthymia, which is a long-term yet mild form of depression. I've been on antidepressants for seven months now, I feel like I'm finally getting my life together. All the things that used to made me miserable can't hurt me anymore; I've won those battles. Too bad not all of life's problems are internal things that can be solved by a change in behavior, or an adjustment of a chemical balance. Too bad one has to come along now, at a time when I thought I was getting stronger.

You can have a firm grip when you're climbing a ladder, but if it tips over, you're fucked. Once you feel it starting to wobble, all you can do is hope it won't tilt back any further. You've slipped on the rungs a few times before, and you managed to recover-- but you know if the whole ladder falls back on you, recovery won't be possible. Should you brace yourself for the crash? Or keep climbing? After all, the ladder hasn't fallen yet...
____________________________________________________________________________
We're always seeing how things connect to ourselves. I guess it's just part of how we take in our surroundings. Sometimes I wish there was an 'off' switch for it; for example, being able to relate to a Taylor Swift song makes me feel like less of a human being. But there are other times where it's comforting to be able to view something as a symbol for what we're going through; it can express our pain for us, and make it into something that's beautiful and a little easier to understand.

www.youtube.com/watch
This can't last. This misery can't last. I must remember that and try to control myself. Nothing lasts really. Neither happiness nor despair. Not even life lasts very long. They'll come a time in the future when I won't mind about this anymore, and I can look back and say quite peacefully and cheerfully how silly I was. No, no I don't want that time to come. I want to remember every minute, always, always to the end of my days.

I felt the touch of his hand on my shoulder for a moment. And then he walked away. Away, out of my life forever.

I said to myself: 'He didn't go. At the last minute his courage failed him; he couldn't have gone. Any minute now, he'll come back... pretending he's forgotten something.' I prayed for him to do that, just so that I could see him again, for an instant. But the minutes went by...

I stood there trembling right on the edge, but I couldn't. I wasn't brave enough... I had no thoughts at all, only an overwhelming desire not to feel anything ever again. Not to be unhappy anymore.

-Brief Encounter (1945) Adorably tragic. I wanna be in a black-and-white 1940s melodrama now.