Familiar

I was walking down a busy road in a populous city. There was the back to what seemed to be a factory to my left, with a large fire escape with several turns. Aneta and a few other familiar people were walking to my right and behind me.

A loud and disconcerting noise plagued the air. I could feel it getting dark. I could feel the world caving in. I looked to the sky for an answer; that was when I saw it approaching. I ran to the fire escape as quickly as I could. Climbing several steps at a time, I headed for my escape. Familiar and unfamiliar faces followed as the shadows quickly swept in. I hurtled over a locked gate leaving everything I knew, and everything I had yet to know behind.

The powerful wave touched down and cleaned the streets. I couldn't hear it, nor could I feel it. When the iron door shut and I was considered safe I began to walk around inside the dark, seemingly empty building.

I came across machinery for stuffed animal assembly. I thought this seemed to be random since the building advertised that a new aquarium would be coming soon. Despite the irony, there were no signs of an aquarium. Inside it was dry, and safe.

I had been removed from the building without my knowledge. I woke up in a neighborhood that was forested despite it's many homes. I was clothing-less, walking up a steep curved road.

I was comfortable. The air was soothing and the breeze wouldn't be noticeable if it weren't for the trees swaying. I came across an older woman, who came off eccentric yet easy to talk to. Nothing about the way she looked was familiar but the way she felt was very familiar.

She and I walked very slowly to the end of her driveway, which was of moderate length, and back. She did all of the talking. Her words were heard although I cannot recall what any of them were. She spoke with ease and elegance. It were as if she were reciting something she had kept inside of her for eternity.

I was in her home sitting in the couch for a period of time. I was in clothes that were my own, and that she must have found and given me.

She was later standing in the dining room, which was also the kitchen, with me. A tall young woman came in. She was wearing a long cloak-like coat and large, rounded sunglasses. She was looking in the direction of the old woman in a way that felt evil. The old woman looked through her thick spectacles at the woman in a way that indicated she was notorious for her all-around good reputation.

The naive old woman was unable to make the connection to who the woman really was. I found myself eye-to-eye with her as she held a large staff in her left hand that stood as tall as she was. It had a round top, with a sharp, pointed end.

She raised her staff to me, going in for the kill. I gained complete control of the weapon with threatening vengeance. I raised the tool and guided it into the middle of her forehead that was completely exposed by her pulled-back hair. With that I pulled the staff down the middle of her face. She was without reaction through disarming her and experiencing her demise.

The old woman had disappeared. I was alone. Her sunglasses were removed through the ordeal yet she still remained unexposed.

I released all of the demons inside of my soul in one swift swipe yet I could feel them still running through my veins.

Le Sigh

When I woke up this morning my room was colder than expected. On top of this I have been having odd dreams almost every night. Waking up physically and emotionally uncomfortable.

I went upstairs to get a cup of coffee to find that Aneta and Madame Dupont had already woken up. Antea let me know that it was snowing and blah blah blah. She said she shoveled some of the driveway and the back deck. I didn't really care because I knew I would be doing the majority of the driveway alone.

Today was also payday so I had plans to get my money and go shopping. When I went to go start on the driveway I noticed that she hardly shoveled. There was a 5'x8' space that was shoveled and had already accumulated a lot of snow. It wasn't even close to my car, really.

It took me a little over an hour to finish the whole thing. I hauled ass, and it really did take a toll on my body. I didn't complain to her one word. I shoveled it for me, and she didn't need to know that. I knew I was free to leave after completing what she knows is never a very fun task.

I said to her, "It's cool if I go get my check and go shopping right?"

She replied, "King Arthur called and said the roads were really bad, especially by the malls."

I thought, of course it's the worst by every local shopping center. I had replied, "I shoveled the whole driveway for you, because I knew you couldn't do it. I've had all week off from school and this is my only day off to have any fun."

Of course she caved. I'm broke, and I need my money.

My car was all over the road on the way there, and it was kind of fucking awesome.

Anyways, I got to the mall, and to no surprise FedEx had not arrived with the checks. I waited at the mall for 5 hours and although FedEx had delivered packages and such to other stores, none to ours.

My day is ruined, and Aneta didn't feel bad at all. I'm sure she thought to herself that I was getting some kind of karma for traveling in the storm.

I feel like Jennifer from Jennifer's Body when she hasn't eaten in a while. On top of that I feel unpopular, lonely, and poor.

I'm realizing my inner loser.

Paint

My house was on the corner between Delightful Lane, technically the road I lived on, and Prodd Boulevard. Prodd Boulevard was on a steep hill. A few friends of mine lived at the bottom, while I lived on the top. A few of my other friends lived nearby on Delightful Lane.

There was a house that my friends and I would always hang out at. It was my friend Jenkins' house. He was a good friend, or so I thought.

Now, I can't tell you how I met Jenkins but that's only because I can't even recall our first encounter myself.

His house was a two-story apartment. It had a porch with a large stoop, as well as a balcony. It had one door to the left, and in the foyer, you could choose to go upstairs to Jenkins' apartment or you could go in the door to the right into some cat lady's apartment. Once you reached the top of the stairs you could go into his apartment.

Jenkins was the center of our group of friends, although none of us saw him often. He always hung out in the other room, in the back of the apartment. A few of us would talk and hang out like kids do. I don't remember what the conversation consisted of but I do remember that it was never of my primary memory at the apartment.

We would paint at Jenkins'. The walls were white throughout the whole entire apartment. It had mediocre generic furniture, and had a distinct, clean smell.

Of the few times I visited over that long summer, I remember painting. We repainted the whole entire living room white. The walls were bare and untouched so I don't know why we would have needed to paint, but we did. I don't recall the smell of paint, or the feeling of it, I just remember the cleanliness.

I can see myself, so young and stupid. I was on the opposite wall of the apartment toward what would be considered the front of the apartment. I was painting, alone. In my content, I was called on upon, by request, into the bathroom.

The tragedy took place here. My most embarrassing, traumatic memory took place in that bathroom. It had a plain floor and plain walls, just like any other part of the house. I had no idea that such a disgusting and degrading event was occurring, yet I proceeded with Jenkins encouraging and comforting words.

Oh, please believe I said

Baby, there's a shark in the water.

Or at least there was.

Life Lesson #1

Life Lesson #1: Only Be Submissive During Sex

With little common knowledge regarding the topic of gay sex, anyone can figure out that there's a controlling role and a submissive role. In real love affairs, there is always one who enjoys one role better than the other. This is normal, but real love affairs also have an even trade off, if you catch my drift.

Friendships don't have to be like this. You can play either role you like during conversation. Since this physical aspect never comes into play (for those of us who aren't slutty whores and don't have friends with benefits), we see a power struggle for the more masculine role, if you will.

If you're willing to successfully be the aggressor THEN DO IT.

Why get walked all over when you could be known as the wittiest bitch on the block. While some may find you guarded and rude, you know that you're sweet as candy. My advice to you is only treat others this way given the following circumstances:

1. They try to get sassy with you--put them in their place!
2. No one likes them--make a name for yourself and be the first to stand up the the baddest bitch around. Just like Cady Heron did to Regina George in Mean Girls.
3. You don't want to be friends with them anymore--it's easy to get rid of people, drive them away.

You don't have to treat everyone like this. Just do it to those who deserve it. You can open up to people that you've gotten to know and who have seen that there's more to you than just your exterior. I've opened up to a few select people, and I must admit that it's nice to not have EVERYONE know "who you really are" inside.

I know that I will never shed my icy skin.

Work

I arrived at GAP Outlet around 1:50PM. I was 10 minutes early for my shift, which was only 5 hours long.

The day started off well since I wasn't zoning or on register. I was working with most of the people I don't like, until 3 new people that I don't really know at all came in shortly after. A manager that I always have to keep in check was closing, but that's alright since I really do enjoy running the store unofficially.

I was putting away clothes when I took a moment to listen to the music. The following lyrics played:

"I hate my job."

I can't say that I hate my job at all. As a matter of fact, I am IN LOVE with my job. I am a retail whore. I live for this shit on a daily basis. A lot of what I do is so that the store is a success. Most of my coworkers do their job because they get paid. In part, I show up for the check but genuinely I do adore the customers, the hustle and bustle, and the all around knowledge of knowing I made something happen.

Now I would proclaim that I am the best at my place of employment, but that wouldn't be fair to others. I have not been told that I am the best, and several other coworkers of mine have been voted employee of the month.

I am the self-proclaimed best person at GAP Outlet. I am able to do any task well, not to mention quickly. I'm efficient in everything I do. I know the dos and don'ts.

Good guys finish last? I forgot

It looks like I'm going to be waiting a little while for the recognition that I've earned.

At least I'm not holding my breath, waiting.

Sans Les Cheveux

I decided that it was time for change once again. This Sunday I decided to have my hair cut (1).

This haircut is one that I've wanted for a very long time. I never really expressed it to anyone since most people would have tried to convince me against it. I'm tired of reaching out to people and getting negativity. Although I am one of the most pessimistic people that I know, I do not immediately give negative feedback. I know that I don't know best. I know that I know what I like.

I've never had my hair this short, and I can't even being to explain how liberated I feel.

Although it doesn't have the effortless look that I wanted it sure is effortless.

Some of the opinions expressed by others included, "What did you do? You had such beautiful hair!" Hair grows back so I don't get why people are getting all bent out of shape? I mean it's not like they just shaved their head in the middle of January. "Aren't you cold?", has also been a popular response. No shit I'm fucking cold. -__-

Other people have said things like, "YOU'RE A GOD", "You're so sexy", "You are so fierce, I can't even handle it." It's amazing how people can change for a good opinion of me to a great opinion. I know that I look more attractive. This haircut opens up my face making how I perfect I am inherently obvious. Makeup further enhances this (I know I didn't think I could improve on perfection either).

But wait! A third party exists believe it or not. That would consist of those who have made no positive or negative comments, even no comments at all. At work, some people said, "You look so much older", "You look so masculine", and "You have amazing bone structure." At school I even got, "You look more like a girl now." That was a little funny since I don't think I look like Shuga. To address those who haven't said anything, thank you. Assholes.

Even though it has only been 4 days, it will continue to feel like the first day for a week or so, I'm sure.

I may have done a lot of things to please myself, but I have altered those things time to time due to unimportant opinions. It feels great to finally realize that I don't need to listen to the negative criticism of my 'friends.

Everyone's a critic.

Myself included.

Bipolar?

This week as been quite the week, and with how fast paced it has felt this should come as no surprise. But there are two more days left to this week and today has been the most eventful by far.

Around 12:00am I had an episode.

Around 12:45am an old, almost boyfriend wanted me to have phone sex with him. Um, no.

Around 7:50am I downed a cup of coffee and headed to school and actually arrived on time.

Around 1:00pm I starved myself because I had work to do, that wasn't collected.

Around 4:00pm I started to drive to work, I drove 40mph the whole way there.

Around 4:30pm someone wouldn't sell me cigarettes because they thought my ID was fake. I fucken took my business elsewhere. Fuck that shit.

At 5:15 I finally went to work. Now this is where the stories start.

As I came into work, I counted down a drawer, since I was going to become main ringer. I've become closer with Stacy recently. This is due to the fact that Bovan now works at WAL-MART and that I'm one of the few members of the night crew who has been working there for more than 3 days.

The night was slow therefore Stacy and I spent most of our time mildly gossiping about customer experiences, and funny family stories while we folded. She had informed me that she had a very important story that she couldn't believe that she had forgotten to tell me. I immediately thought it was just an extra saucy story about one of our regulars--I was right in part.

Stay started to tell a story with the regular customer coming up to 2 newer associates and claiming, "I need a new outfit for court that doesn't make me look like such a fucking slut, like I normally do." The associates informed Stacy that they were uncomfortable. She was the perfect customer to create a bond with but whatever.

Stacy then took it upon herself to assist the customer. She knew her superior customer experience would aid her in not feeling like a pansy uncomfortable idiot. The customer had revealed to her that she had to go to court for domestic abuse, and that she may have her children taken away.

This only made Stacy feel worse because the woman showed her a GIANT tattoo (a tribute to her children) that she had gotten earlier in the week that was causing her physical pain on top of her emotional pain. Stacy did help her find a nice pair of khaki pants, and a black camisole to go with the denim jacket she had wanted. She looked plain jane, just how her lawyer had asked of her.

At the end of the story, Stacy informed me that she had forgotten one crucial part. The customer had said to Stacy and one girl who isn't new, Mae Ling, "Where's the cute little gay boy who always helps me?" Unfortunately, they had to inform her that there were not any males on staff until 5:15pm. When Stacy had to inform her, she told me it was when she really noticed that the poor customer had officially hit rock bottom

The worst part of it all is that it was one of MY regulars. I feel terrible that I couldn't have been there when all she wanted was assistance from the person who always aids her. I could have been her crutch. In her hard time she needed a familiar face who never judged her. I had her on my mind all through the rest of the night.

Around 8:15 I went on my cigarette break. I had that customer on my mind. While sitting outside, and old man was walking into the mall. He said to me, "Those cigarettes are that good to make you sit out in the freezing cold?"

I was in no mood, and couldn't believe the audacity of this old piece of shit and replied with, "You don't know what you're missing."

Expecting a chuckle from the bitter old fuck, he sassily replied, "It's a nasty habit."

As he reached for the door, I said in a firm, irritated, yet informative voice, "Fuck off." The old bastard shook his head as he walked into the mall. Go ahead and walk into that mall. Do you know how many worse things happen everyday than a teenager smoking a cigarette outside of the mall?

It killed me that he didn't understand how I felt. My emotions have been across the board all week, not to mention today. I felt frustrated, depressed, sad, ugly, beautiful, sassy, angry, hurt, excited, jealous, even happy.

Call me Sybil, but I'd much rather be called Caesar.