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My computer was smashed today.

apples
I've been thinking about these lyrics a lot lately. Other than being so well-written, they're just so apt right now:

There are times that I should try, 
To be so much more alive 
But if time was right then I would be with you again 
Or do you worry that I try to avoid the point 
And then deny 
The time I spent deciding it was you again 

It`s when I live in a hiding place 
It`s the only way I feel safe 
When I`m safe in a hiding place 
(That`s not hidden now) 
I`m safe in a hiding place 
It`s the only way I feel safe 
When I`m safe in a hiding place 

And you`re full of facts 
But not things that could add up to words 
Think about meaning more as an after word 
As in afterward 

I return but don`t remain, 
I`m impatient for a reason 
To complain about winter making me see through again 
Or is it your damaged reply, 
That makes me realize that 
The more I try 
The less that plans will help me comprehend again 

So I live in a hiding place 
It`s the only way I feel safe 
When I`m safe in a hiding place 
(That`s not hidden now) 
I`m safe in a hiding place 
It`s the only way I feel safe 
When I live in a hiding place 

And you`re full of facts 
But not things that could add up to words 
You think about meaning more as an after word 
And you`re full of facts 
But not things that could add up to words 
You think about meaning more as an after word 
As in afterward


Twitter has made me hate celebrities.

devil, red, morticia
I joined Twitter because I was curious (about who I knew was on there, who might join etc), but mostly for mini doses of wit from people like Agent M or Wil Wheaton, and for news/updates on some bands I liked. Two in particular stood out to me: Trent Reznor and Amanda Palmer, mostly for the surprise of the former revealing any innermost thoughts at all, and for the latter to be so open and welcoming of sharing photos, updates and her own thoughts.

Then it suddenly started to go downhill. For the record, I have been a NIN fan since my mid-teens, but I never (and still don't) have a crush on Trent Reznor. With that out of the way, you can take at face value the fact that I cannot stand to hear so many cloying, sickeningly syrupy updates on his love life. ("Now that I'm in love and gone all soft on you, can anyone recommend any romantic comedies? Got a weird urge.")

The woman in question is a singer in a band, and out of curiousity (again with the misguided curiousity) I took a peek at her updates. Almost all of them were concerned with the expensive things she was buying, the hotels she was staying at, the expensive technology she was using and the expensive food she was eating ("crab cakes") along with the frequent sex she was having. And then a few tweets about how she may or may not scratch her leg and exactly how she was choosing to eat nachos. In short, terrifyingly boring and hideously self-centred.

Surprisingly this is a perfect match for Trent, who has decided to bitch out his fans for voicing any kind of opinion. He's considerately used the "@" reply function on Twitter so that his near-600,000 legions of followers can use their frequent spare time to harrass, abuse and threaten these relatively defenceless individuals. This led to one user even deleting her account because Trent's tweets are posted on NIN.com, leading millions to reinflate his bruised ego. He tweeted: "Perfect example of the kind of complete parasitic delusional asshole that makes you regret fame: @[he mentions the offending fan by name].” Then: "And you’re not anonymous dear, you are [mentions her entire name, first, middle initial and surname] from Worcester with a criminal record.”

To me, this has ruined the Trent Reznor I grew up respecting as an artist. For someone who tweets "You know that feeling you get when somebody embarrasses themselves so badly YOU feel uncomfortable? Heard Chris Cornell's record? Jesus.", it seems pretty hypocritical that he can't take criticism himself. There are numerous other examples; just today someone was trying to raise awareness of over 400,000 victims of floods in Brazil with the hashtag "itsucks". Our man Trent took it the wrong way and replied "You know what else sucks? You."

It's sad but I think that says more about him than I care to know. This behaviour is like that of a spoiled child, worried that someone else (Korn, Chris Cornell, Marilyn Manson etc) is going to be a commercial threat to him, so he lashes out like an infant, using his army of followers to dish out his abuse. I'm sorry, Trent, but that's cyberbullying. Perhaps he should look up the case of Lori Drew. It's unacceptable. I would never say anything rude or disrespectful to someone I didn't know, but I can't help but comment on such ridiculous behaviour. As a popular musician he has a responsibility to use mass communication like Twitter in a, well...responsible manner. This is a gang mentality based on egoism and superficiality. Maybe he's been in LA too long.


Far less offensive is Amanda Palmer. I still love her. I think she's amazing, and the music that she creates is mind-blowingly unique. But to ask for donations for over 4 months worth of rent she owes (over $3000 total) then tweet that she's been drinking "ten glasses of wine" at a bar or making road trips to concerts in NYC and LA seems a bit irresponsible. Why should we hand her money for her own rent when she's living the high life? Until I get my work permit my mother is helping me out with money, but if she gave me money for rent and I just buggered off to NYC, she'd be pretty pissed (FYI, the two recent road trips were paid for).

She tweets about how she wishes her poor fans can go to her concerts for free and "my rich fans could pick up the tab".  Putting out a record is one thing, but asking for rent donations on Twitter seems a bit depressing. It just seems a little narcistic to expect other people to pay your way for you when you're just partying and Twittering about it. Isn't it just glorified begging? This doesn't take away from how awesome I think her music is. It just seems so egotistical when it's paired with numerous "camera in mirror" implied-nude photos.

I get that everyone has to live their lives etc but it doesn't seem right to expect a legion of Twitter followers to carry out your dirty work, whether it's cyber bullying or ponying up cash (not checks or money orders - hmm) for rent. I hate to say it, but it seems like Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher know how to use Twitter better than any other celebrities I've seen. I don't follow them, but then thanks to the aforementioned two, I don't bother using Twitter at all anymore. I'll stick with Facebook and LJ, thanks.
park, wind, pocahontas
She has been with her boyfriend for a year, and they seem happy. They look worn-out, tired and stressed, but even after he comes out of the bathroom, he comes over to where she's sitting and rubs her shoulders if he thinks she looks tense. When all four of us are walking down the street, he holds her hand or puts his arm around her waist. Tom and I walk separately. He didn't even make an effort to pretend to look happy when we kept walking past his ex-boyfriend yesterday.

I added Tom on Facebook just to take a "How Well Do You Know Me?" quiz. I got just 80%, tying for best score. The two questions were either pertaining to his entire life before me or general stuff that he didn't talk about. He then took my quiz and got 60% (still the highest score). I felt weird keeping him as a friend, so I deleted him afterwards, as well as info about it in my profile news feed and a discussion he added to a thread on my profile. I suggested he did the same. That way his friends can talk about things uncensored without worrying that I'll butt in or be offended.

Keeping these things separate seemed like a perfect thing for me. Just like I won't pay his rent for him anymore, or share any kind of bank account or credit account. I want my dealings to be separate. If someone has a problem with him (like a neighbor), I won't have anything to do with it. His friends are not my friends, but they are such an important part of his life; they always have been and they always will be.

The sad thing about this is that it feels like I'm slowly slipping away. It's only been a little over a solid year of living together and we are already drifting apart. I noticed it when he would start to invent arguments out of nowhere (with an added twist, blaming them on me), then running off to be with his friends. He'd come back to eat or drink alcohol or sleep - i.e. things he knew were here waiting for him for free. He has one friend that regularly drops by, almost every day. He even came over on Thanksgiving.

If Tom and I are alone in the house watching TV, he won't even watch it. He will either sit on the computer and browse the internet, or play video games. It didn't used to be like this. I understand kicking back or going to hang out with a friend every once in a while, but the balance here is off. I am simply just a piece of furniture. If one of his friends says something funny, he will laugh out loud like he hasn't heard a joke in ten years. If I show him something funny, it's listless laughter, if anything. It's like he has no life in him when it comes to trying to enjoy himself with me. Even if I provide alcohol, it doesn't help. It just feels like I'm being used. After all, he believes he's entitled to using the computer I'm currently lending him.

As with most things I say, it's doubtful that he will read this, even though it's a public entry. But then, as if to spitefully prove me wrong, he might in fact just bother to skim it.

It's just sad that his friends, who have always been a fixture in his life, have been convinced with his stories to hate me or to just feel so indifferent that they will actually cheer on Facebook when we took each other off our friends lists, or outright say nasty things to me on the phone. The sad thing is is that I don't wage a hate campaign against him over the smallest thing. I've only been coming out with details of his abuse recently, because I've been fed up. But even my own friends aren't that narrow-minded to assume that someone who's been with me for 4 years would just be an unforgivable asshole. His friends have never given me the benefit of the doubt, and the sad thing is that I have to live around them, walk around town and see at least 3 or 4 of them every day, or see them in the cafés I go to or the cinemas I see movies at or the restaurants at which I go to eat.

When I go home I will be able to feel better about people who don't treat me as if I'm some virus that Tom needs to shake off. The worst part of this is is that I'm stuck between keeping out of the spotlight by being quiet and unassuming (so they'll think I'm cold/bitchy/judgemental/antisocial) or trying to interact with them (which will just mean that I'm trying too hard, or my personality will be too on display, showing how little I have in common with Tom and his friends).

His friends really are his family. And when I go home for good, they will be there to comfort him and to tell him that I was just a heartless bitch anyway, and that he will find someone way more "chill" soon.

Café musings

park, wind, pocahontas
Salem has such good small-city nightlife. It reminds me of one of the smaller arrondisements of Paris, maybe, what with all the cobblestones, cafés and fairylight-adorned trees. People smoking outside (although I and my freshly-washed hair seem to be a magnet for the smoke miasmas), charming little green areas, quaint street-lamps (not the eyebrow-shaped ones in Waterlooville)...sometimes when no-one is blaring bad '80s metal or revving their awful refabbed Honda engines, it can be easy to relax outside with a coffee under a parasolled table and pretend you're in some bohemian landscape.

There are a few bearded hippies and bespectacled hipsters that sit at this Prague-style café, and the pizza place next door (which also has its European-style delivery bicycles with wooden boxes on the back). There are a lot of charming little boutique shops and nightly tour groups. This time of year, people get outside and enjoy life. One of them even talked to me today, and said he had just noticed me wandering aimlessly. I must have looked homeless to him, because I had a big bag and my shoulders were hunched really low. I told him why I might have looked so upset. He stood on the other side of the street watching me for about half an hour. Maybe I should have kept talking to him.

Sometimes the people who think they're in some European culture hub really broadcast the kind of annoying personality that should really stay in the bigger cities, which outwardly appreciate this on a larger scale. One man is quite obviously drunk, but cannot stop repeating how much he loves Ella Fitzgerald, Louis [Armstrong] and The Manhattan Transfer, in that order, separately, together, and in all other methods of combination. They seem pleasant, but loudly appreciative for smaller towns, even on a Friday night.

It sounds like they're playing Nintendo music in there, but it must be some kind of random DJ. That also breaks the facade, so maybe that's why it's nicer to stay outside. Especially when the weather is this nice.

Tags:

Well, THERE'S a big fucking surprise.

park, wind, pocahontas
One of Your Needs is Being Met
Need being met: Physiological needs

Needs not being met: Safety, love, esteem, and self-actualization needs

Believe it or not, you are only taking care of your biological needs right now.
You are getting enough sleep, food, water, and shelter to survive.

To truly thrive, you'll have to feel safer.. whether it's financially or physically safer.
Assess your current situation, and do what you can to get yourself out of danger. After that, the world is yours!

Keeping busy

park, wind, pocahontas
It's the time of year when I feel like going in sitting in the grass (probably with my computer, though), but it's also that time of year that final papers and exams are looming. Only this year these are my final ones, ever. And they're quite possibly scaring the life out of me.

I slaved over the remainders of a 4,000-word essay last night and finally turned it in a few strokes after midnight, when two hours later I realised that the two pages of bibliography forgot to include the actual novel I was discussing. I guess when I'm so stressed about the details I either miss the really important ones, or the parent details. How could I have been referencing pages in the novel but forgetting to biblio it?

Now that this stress is over I have to worry about bills. I should just adopt Tom's outlook and expect someone else to worry about it. That's the only reason he hasn't lost half his body weight and gained two black eye bags of stress hanging from his face.

I don't like being put on the defence about things, especially in an attempt to embarrass me in front of other people. This kind of manipulation is sick and twisted, but he gets to kill two birds with one stone by making himself feel better by trying to get me angry, trying to make himself feel superior by making blanket statements about what he thinks I do and don't do responsibly, and embarrass me at the same time in front of other people by trying to convince them that I'm irresponsible.

So honestly, if he manages to convince people that I'm so lazy and irresponsible, why the fuck am I wasting so much time worrying about bills and rent and cleaning the house?

Let him deal with it from now on. I have an final-degree exam and a dissertation to think about.

Tags:

park, wind, pocahontas
Photobucket

What a bunch of fucking, cunting, bastard twats. We ALWAYS lock the fucking door. They have a ton of parties where people stumble out drunk. Maybe THEY didn't lock the fucking door, but they still yell and slam the door when they realise SOMEONE ELSE didn't fucking lock it.

I wish a tree would fall into their apartment somehow. Or a big wad of tofu.

A little trip to Manchester

park, wind, pocahontas
...Manchester-by-the-Sea, that is. Haven't quite made it back to Blighty, yet:
not-so-great-quality-webcam photos...Collapse )

Disassociations

apples
I love having everything separate from him. My Facebook, my Myspace, my Livejournal - everything is as it should be, with no ties to him or his friends. I can post freely about what I think and feel and not have to worry about someone else's little voice in the back of my head telling me I'm a liar.

I have been getting up early in the mornings and finding reasons, excuses, to just go for a walk, or sit in the Commons if it's a nice day. I love the fact that I can go out for a walk and not be pressured to come back drunk or bogged down with things I've had to buy for him.

That's the only reason he would ever want to spend time with me - if I buy him alcohol. It's not enough that I would (and have) bought him train/bus/cinema tickets, or even food at a restaurant, but I have to buy him alcohol as well. It's an unwritten rule. But, if he has too much, he becomes angry and violent.

He left today to spend time at some girl's house (he's been going over there a lot lately, and it's not hard to see what's going on). He took my computer with him. Do I therefore have the right to take something from him? I think I do. But I won't, because it's not the kind of person I am. I am not a scumbag. I don't know how.

I know how to be selfish again, making food for myself, cleaning up my own dishes, doing just my own laundry, planning trips just by myself, eating at restaurants alone, going food shopping alone, making other decisions alone, keeping my own cellphone etc. I don't need to send any kind of message, but these actions speak for themselves. I am not dependent on him for anything, no matter how much he wants me to be, because he knows it is he who is dependent on me - at least, for my finances, so he can ply himself with alcohol, of which he has extolled its medicinal virtues in soothing his "anxiety", much like his pathetic weed habit.

I hate being disappointed

weemee, anime, goth, cute
I was so excited to get my new glasses so early (nerd alert) - bright blue, small-ish, square and on clearance - and I've only just been wearing them for an hour and they're already pressing into the bridge of my nose. Dammit! Thanks to my crooked, bent, Wicked Witch of The East nose, it's digging into the bridge of my nose despite the fact that they're so lightweight.

Now I only have a few days left on my contacts before I have nothing with which I can see, and I have to go back there again and begin the mundane process of selecting a pair of frames from scratch. I guess I didn't realise how uncomfortable they would be because I was looking straight ahead/up when trying them on, and looking down at the computer for the past hour has either been causing them to slide completely off or press down like a vice into that stupid ethnic denty lump of bone I have. ARRG I can't stand it!

I should have known when I picked them up (yesterday) that if there were no adjustable nose pads (just little slats of plastic growing out of the sides) this would be really uncomfortable. I guess this style isn't for me, which is so fucking depressing. It's like when I try on a cap-sleeved blouse and realise my giant man-shoulders are having their circulation cut off by deigning to wear such dainty, feminine attire. Same goes for any shoes ("Nice shoes. Do they make those in women's sizes?" - Amy to Leela in Futurama).

My God, I'm such a complainer. I need to take these back and look for that ever-elusive perfect pair. Whatever, at least I get my $180 back. The search continues.

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