life is simple.

humans are the strangest.  so complicated and dying to define everything when nothing has a definition.  we live and we die and it doesn't really matter what happens in between.  it doesn't make me feel better to give my life pointless seriousness or importance because it shouldn't be serious or important at all.  

there is no meaning, there are no answers and i refuse to be spiritual.  there is nothing that cures the truth and sadness of human life.  i can understand the need to feel like we're not alone though,  it's tempting but overall comes up short. 

so hungry right now.

what's left to abort?

i never gave the idea of abortion much thought.  since i was a younger girl, whenever i was asked, "would you ever get an abortion?" i would always answer "yes".  but if i was ever asked "do you think you'd ever need an abortion?" my answer would have undoubtedly  been "NO"

i've always been pretty reserved sexually.  never really doing the fucking your friends thing, it was never really my style.  it's much to do about me.  having sex with people, then chilling with them was embarrassing for me.  i would sit there and go over things that they said and how they looked during the sex.  which, i was sure they were doing to me too.  so to avoid all that i generally didn't fuck my friends.  then i started thinking it would be safer to have an experience with my friend since i know him, think he's really funny and totally cute.  

it started with irresponsible sex.  i was more drunk than i had been in a while and i had taken to xanax.  from what i can gather we were at a club first.  which lead to us nonverbally communicating with each other that we should go to my car.  we go to my car and make out and it's at this point that i realize he is being a little rough.  BUT, what can i say?  I was still enjoying myself.  Then this lead to terribly unsuccessful fellatio on my part, the aforementioned xanax slowed down my breathing so much so that i couldn't breathe during oral sex.  so i really don't know what happened from there but we re-entered the club and it was also at this point i noticed he was SPEEDING up ahead of me so that he wouldn't be seen re-entering with me.  

i got a horrible knot in my stomach.  

all i get is "oh my god, what happened to you, your neck is all red!" to which i just laughed. 

well, him and i end up at the same after party and are both so fucked up we don't return to our own homes.  instead we end up on the kitchen floor of a mutual friend's apartment.  where are disorganized attempt to have sex continued.  from this point on, i don't know what happens. 

my face is burning and i open my eyes, only to find that my eyes burned more.  my vision gains full strength and i realize that he is on top of me, drooling on me with his pants down, snoring so loudly that it actually made me smile for a split second.  i had to get this fool off of me. i closed his nose so that he could wake up... but he didn't- he just opened his mouth allowing more drool to fall on my face and mouth.  so then i stopped trying to be polite and shoved him off of me, searched for my purse and walked out the front door.   

as i walked out of the apartment i realized my neck and legs hurt a great deal.  i got into my car and immediately brought down the visor so i could look myself in the mirror.  i was covered in violent looking hickeys some were on my cheeks, chin, lips but most were on my chest.  and yet still i had this, "well this looks like fun" feeling in my stomach.  i still wasn't upset about it. 

then i actually talk to him.  the first things he said to me was that he didn't remember a thing and for me not to tell anyone.   which altogether in one sentence doesn't make much sense.  if you don't remember anything, what exactly would i be telling other people?  it was at this point i began to realize just how ashamed he was.  i wasn't exactly top notch, he didn't want anyone to know about it.  

that plagued me for about two weeks, until there was another show where we crossed paths.  people were doing the classic post-show-parking-lot-hang-out, except he wouldn't look at me.  he didn't say hi to me, he walked away as i approached the group.  i remember my face getting red and feeling completely humiliated.  i felt like throwing up.  

somehow i found myself writing him emails and sending him instant messages that were never responded to.  and somehow my obsession with him only grew from there.  and i would try harder and harder and go to larger extremes to get him to at least look at me, further humiliating myself.  i couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he didn't care.  that i couldn't force him to care enough about me as a friend to talk to me, to acknowledge me, to not be embarrassed of me. 

i wrote him some crazy myspace message telling him about how angry i was and two days after he had read it and ignored it, i took a pregnancy test.  

i didn't cry, i didn't do anything really.  i just sat there on the toilet with my mouth wide open.  completely aghast, it never occurred to me to keep my child.  almost immediately after realizing that i was really pregnant with this shameless asshole's CHILD i began to think about how to get money to get rid of it.  i called several places and the price was pretty much $400 dollars. 

what i hate to admit was that he had everything to do with me aborting my child.  i let him have so much of me to begin with, that i was willing to let him have the inside of me too.  i only thought to myself, "how on earth can i tell him, he won't even look at me", "how can i keep the child of a guy who's ashamed to even be my friend", "how can i keep this baby if he doesn't even fucking accept a myspace fucking comment from me?"

him, him, him, him, him, him, him.  i did so much thinking about him.  i would watch him jamming out with his friends, laughing it up not having a care in the world and felt sorry for myself.  i just sat there and felt SORRY for myself.  so often i wished i was the hot chick that got all his attention.  so often i wanted to be someone he cared about so that i wouldn't feel this way anymore.  i wanted to know he wasn't the most evil person on the planet.  i resorted to public slander of his character and shouting mean shit to him whenever i was close enough to him.  and even those attempts didn't work, i was further humiliating myself.  

I made the appointment 12 weeks into my pregnancy.  there was a counseling session that i was advised to be a part of.  and she asked me "what makes you sure that abortion is the option for you?"  I just sat there and cried about how HE didn't like me, how HE wasn't nearly ready even the concept of being a father, how HE was ashamed of me, how HE wouldn't help me.   i never mentioned myself, i just kept repeating to her "i want him out of my head and i want him out of my body". 

it was the best kept secret of my life.  no one knew what i had done, no one knew the decisions i had made- which was a terrible idea because i just got sucked right back into feeling sorry for myself. "no one knows what i'm going through, life is so sad" blah blah blah.  and around and around i went.  i started coming up with baby names.  IF i had my child i would name it this and that.  for some reason i wanted to name my son Garces and my daughter Lourdes Pilar. 

it wasn't until two years after my abortion that i started thinking about myself.  what it meant to me to have a child and what it had done to me to get an abortion.  i still don't know.  

i've always said i never wanted to be a mom. 

TV

i'm so sick of people saying television is bad for you. i think it's a beautiful form of media, it's easily abused but if we can make decisions to listen to whatever kind of music we want... the same goes for what television shows we watch. 

i don't watch survivor or american idol.  i don't watch Rock of Love or whatever the other dating show with flava flav is called.  obviously, that isn't a rich form of entertainment.  but i can't shut off television completely.  with the ability to have a weekly series, we're open to real character development and we're open to watching characters grow.  it's also important to see the bigger fucking picture!

get passed the obvious and look deeper into the themes of television shows.  how can i apply them to my real life and how to i relate?  why do we watch what we watch?  you end up learning quite a bit about yourself in the process.  it's just like books.  the little prince is NOT about a little dude who hops from planet to planet.  just like Alice in Wonderland and The Wizard of Oz are not what them seem.  they are huge allegories for the BIGGER FUCKING PICTURE in life.

don't be such a noob. 

mosquitoes.

i try not to make a big deal out of them. 

but this one has been buzzing by my ear, by my neck and in front of my book nearly all night. i sorta feel taunted.

like he's living my life, mocking the fact that i haven't looked up from my book all night.

bzzz bzzz bzzz. like he gets a fucking kick out of the fact that every thirty minutes i try to get up and find him so that i can kill him. i just want to kill him right now. my feet, hands, face, thighs and ankles will be my evidence. he pushed me to do it.

it's either him or me but i can't catch him. he's a slippery baby of a mosquito. only when he passes my window or book can i see him, it's so strange. i try following him with my huge human eyes but his little body slips just about anywhere. he's winning and laughing, my blood fueling him. he'll probably slip out of a window or door tomorrow and tell all his friends about how he spent his night/early morning. or with my luck, the mosquito will be ashamed of me. he won't acknowledge me, he'll leave me and never want to drink from me again. he'll buzz right out of my life like so many mosquitoes before him. 

the book i'm reading:

It's such a fantastic book! it's about seven different lives, they all live in the same suburb and it's sorta how their lives intersect and the perceptions they have of each other. the perceptions they try to control and the book tells how little the characters really know about each other. even the married couples. it sorta reveals this shocking truth about things that can seem so ordinary and how the term "ordinary" doesn't really have a definition in society. themes that aren't exactly original but their meaning and presentation are SO original. we end up feeling like the 33 year old retired cop is the creep and the psychosexual "pervert" is the victim. new perspective, new new new.

ALRIGHT. so everyone knows my insane obsession with producer/show creator Alan Ball. Firstly, i was head over hells for his series Six Feet Under. 

an intense drama about death with so my sincerity it was soul crushing. I can talk for hours and hours about the enormous effect this show had on me. but recently, he just wrapped up a second season of his ridiculously critically acclaimed show, TRUE BLOOD.

Aside from the fact that I have always been consumed with death, i just love the themes of True Blood. Immortality, mortality, what life means when you can't die, social injustices, religion, savage-like sex, the definition of love, possession, humanity, what being a human means... all the BIG themes that animate my life.

There is a character named Jason Stackhouse, who is the older brother of the main character Sookie Stackhouse. Jason has been through a lot; his parents killed in a flash flood when he was eleven, his grandmother and girlfriend being savagely murdered by a good friend and co-worker of his. He sorta had this emptiness inside of him and all he knew to do was to be hot and fuck anything that walked. 

In the second season of the show, Jason feels the need to belong and was recruited by a anti-vampire church called The Fellowship of the Sun. the idea of the church is that they are radical and believe vampires to be... well, evil. Jason doesn't question much, he just feels like he belongs to a family and feels closer to god. He makes the worst decisions and suffers greatly for them. But something that i can't shake is how his character just wants to be good. he just wants to be closer to his maker and do something for the greater good of mankind. he wants to be a hero but doesn't know how to save a thing, not even himself. he wants to be there for his sister and he wants to love and be loved in return.

I have the most in common with this character.

that's Jason Stackhouse having a conversation with Reverend Steve Newlin founder of Leadership of the Sun [notice jason's muscle shirt stands for Light of Day Institute]. sooo fucked up, yet so powerful. self-righteousness for the "glory" of god proves to be much scarier than sharp-toothed men.

sometimes you have to have a thoughtless fashion moment.

Nail Polish: OPI for Sephora in Dark Room

Eyebrows: Urban Decay in Honey Pot

i have the biggest urge to blog about my current obsessions:

 i'm starting to except that i like deep colors, not just black on top of black on top of black.  don't get me wrong, i still love layering black.  and totally dripping in gold with it.  but as fall and winter are approaching, i can't help but sorta itch for a little bit of color.

but i've never really been comfortable with super bright colors so my way of letting jades and purples into my wardrobe will really just mean they will be deep jades and purples, deep maroons and of course grey grey grey!  what would i do without being able to dress in all different shades of greyyyy?  aye.  i need to go shopping. 

i feel like it's finally about faux fur with me.  aside from the barbaric cruelty of real fur, it doesn't feel very nice to wear.  but i can't deny the automatic chicness that comes with a gorgeous  faux fur scarf, shrug or even hat.   it just completely heightens whatever the fuck you have on!  i don't need any help defining my enormous shoulders though, so i'll have to be really careful if i decide to wear my shrug.  

completely NOT into flats this fall, blah.  flats with skinny jeans, PLEASE get a new aesthetic.  but if not flats what the fuck?  so over flat boots too.  flat flat flat, not for me anymore.  i threw on a pair of wedges yesterday with some MC Hammer pants, ugh, made me feel so different.  so i guess i'm gonna be doing the wedge heel for good this fall/winter.  

sooo irritated with red/blonde looking hair right now.  i recently dyed my hair dark brown and feel a lot more comfortable.  i realized how much work my skin/eyebrows need.  so for now, i won't wear any eyeliner or blush.  i just want a clear face and defined brows.

so, i can't get over jade nailpolish!  it's a play off the regular old black or that deeply rich red [that nearly looks like black with black undertones].