Nowadays, I’m always happy with the status quo. But everybody wants to change everything; ruin the intricate balance. Killjoys. Really now, who could ever be my consistent immortal?

Only Him, I guess.

I’m not a feminist, I wouldn’t say that. However, I am a little pissed though. I read this article in Elle about how woman on a whole are overall more depressed in this day and age than ever before, the last time we were happy statistically was in the 70s. Woman are medicated more NOW THAN EVER. That disturbs me. Another fact was that men are increasingly more happy now than ever…Umm…well I have some things to say.

I think woman are subjected to this oversexed society and they feel the need to keep up with it. We feel self conscience if we are in granny panties, and we feel sexy with the backlash of slutty when we wear thongs. What do you do? Woman have to carefully tread these waters. The worst part is we do it to ourselves, we talk a whole lotta smack about each other.

It’s not just woman, it’s men too. Men put a hell of a lot of expectations on woman. Not woman,let me rephrase, the pressure is on girls. Young, 14 possibly 13 year old girls feel unnattractive if they aren’t giving head to some stupid boy. On that note, do you really need to feel attractive at 14? You have fucking braces, shut up and play with pokemon cards. I KNOW I DID. So…in an effort to feel ‘in the loop’ you put all these notches on your belts? By the time girls are fucking 14 they are the biggest sluts, how could you not be though, when your role models are fuckingi doucherags like Britney Spears or the pussycunt dolls?

Boys are sluts too, boys get the fuck around/have always gotten around. It is a sick, sick age. No one in society sees a problem with a 14 year old boy who has had sex with multiple girls. The girls however are the ones that get this tramp stamp slapped across their reputation. Let me put this out there, I think you are ALL sluts, boys and girls alike.

So, we need a solution. Someone needs to guide these impressionable girls. I propose self asteem be a mandatory class. I have had teachers…a teacher that I think has a higher calling. We need a sex education class teaching self asteem as well as a debunking of myths. The truth is, not everyone is doing it. I’m not doing it, then again I’m not cool, a lot of boys I know aren’t doing it. TV is doing it, but don’t let yourself get used. So, the fact is there will never be a class teaching self asteem, and self worth to this lost generation, but if you are a 14 year old girl, here is what I see.

1. You don’t have to wear thongs to be/feel hot, you don’t have to be a slut to be hot. I know, crazy thought.
2. Don’t use cell phones/texting.
3. Don’t post sexy pictures of yourself on your myspace.
4. Be fucking original, don’t have myspace in the first place.
5. If you are a guy, we are not here for your entertainment. Back off, these girls are fourteen…fourteen, and i’m sure some of you aren’t.
6. It is ok if are sexually active, at a certain age(meaning not 14…), don’t let anyone make you feel bad about being sexual, ever.
7. Keep yourself special, however it is you feel special. Never let it be through the eyes of another person though. Don’t give yourself away to the first guy who says, “LOL, tittyfuck, bukkake.” If you are that stupid, than maybe you do deserve to be called a slut.
8. Guys should have self respect too, though most don’t. Just because they get away with it, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t shoot for something better than what is essentially a slut with balls of the bluest shade.
9. A lot of people DO want to fuck you, that does NOT mean you have to fuck them, ya feel me?
10. Don’t idolize anyone. Truth is, you’re probably the shit and they are probably shit.

I’m gonna have some 14 year old scene girl call me a fat, ugly, virgin after I post this…Here is a premtive strike, YOU’RE A WHORE, AND YOUR PARENTS HATE YOU, AND YOU HAVE A RACOON ON YOUR HEAD.

Nobody — Kristine Sa

 

I’ve been blessed with praise, but the price that I pay–
Nobody knows. Nobody sees. Nobody cares.
You walked me home at the end of the day. But you didn’t stay.
Where you had to go, you needed to be, and I wasn’t there.

How could possibly think I’d wait.
While you decided your fate.

Keep all your words that sounded like home
I’ll cry myself to sleep alone
Nobody needs to know
Take all this hurt out of my home
I’d rather die here than let it all show
Nobody needs to know

I showed you all, the strong and the weak– the pieces of me
were yours to keep. And when time came to leap, I watched you leave.
I couldn’t set you free, couldn’t let you fly. You were never mine.
And when you left, I broke down and wept, along on my knees.
I prayed that you’d never come back again.
God give me a chance to mend.

Keep all your words that sounded like home
I’ll cry myself to sleep alone
Nobody needs to know
Take all this hurt out of my home
I’d rather die here than let it all show
Nobody needs to know

I let you in. Show you my cards…
You broke my heart.

I think there are ways to take on other people’s or more precisely other beings karma. But there is a lot of powerful work that has to be done to be able to do that. And most (though I’m not sure all) teachers seem to think that you must be very accomplished in order to do that.

Perhaps what you are saying is that your figurative loosing of your footing with the director as she was loosing her footing with you, caused you to loose your footing literally later on.

Here  is what we need, an analogy: Karma is the most powerful and secret teaching. First one has to have  a very strong morally and ethically centered MIND residing in ones HEART. It starts with being able to see what is going on in the space in front of you that is not cocooned in a body.  Seeing the thoughts and feelings and amorphous clouds who have a jolly or sinister purpose in being in this place at this time.  It is really tough seeing on the person viewer what people are thinking. I recommend turning that insight or pre knowledge off until soul or heart muscle can press double the weight of you and all your possessions. Then you have to face the truth that karma is like a dandelion seed head with thousands of petals on hundreds of stems or perhaps the image of large wide spiderwebs an eighth of an inch space between all 500 levels and the pink  pin ball goes this way and that way hitting non linear magnetic points willy nilly based on choices one has made over the course of a thousand or more years. The precision is amazing and easy for those who have the long view breathing in and out infinitely flowing with the indigo vitality. Wow what a responsibility. So I study and study in the hopes that with enough practice I might be able to see if it was that or this. Though I did come to the conclusion if I had looked at that dagger-ed eyed director and turned on my toe and left with the soundless step of kitten paws I would not have broken my toe! I like your reasoning. smile. A Smile is something special. Agitate the little gray cells most eloquently!

“Don’t ever get so big or important that you can not hear and listen to every other person.”
-John Coltrane

Our relationship has come to an end.
I’m glad the pain will be over soon, I’m not keeping you as a friend.
We inventoried the house and made our list for the final split.
I knew it wouldn’t be that easy and you told me I’m the one who gave up and quit.
I reminded you about all the women, broken promise and flat out lies.
You told me to shut my mouth if I knew what was wise.
You could never own up to your mistakes in life.
You are a fuckin failure and can’t even commit to your devoted wife.
I thought we were done but you saved the best for last.
I could see it in your eyes; you just wanted to kick my ass.
You promised you would go for full custody just to start more stuff.
You got pissed when I reminded you about your lack of commitment and called your bluff.
I knew what was next; I have prepared myself for this fight.
I truly didn’t think I had the strength to make it through the night.
Tossed into the bathroom, I clung to the floor.
I listened to his abusive words as I bled out on the bathroom floor.
I built up enough strength to stand up and look at the bruises and cuts on my skin.
I knew this was it and I will never let a man hit me again.
I sat on the floor and started crying.
I realized I wasted so many years spending all this time trying.
It’s so clear now; he never loved me from the start.
I was just one more girl to control and break her already fragile heart.
I wasn’t going to let him trap me again this time.
I refuse to let him take over my body again, he know what he did is a crime.
I had a plan, the one I said I would never do. I knew I had to wait for him to leave.
I took care of it all myself and was left to grieve.
I packed up my stuff and left the rest. It’s just not worth the fight.
I could see so much clearer and bloody hell, that light was bright.
I closed the door and smiled with relief.
I feel like I finally have my life back from a manipulative thief.

By April Cadran

Divorce

Our relationship has come to an end.

I’m glad the pain will be over soon, I’m not keeping you as a friend.

We inventoried the house and made our list for the final split.

I knew it wouldn’t be that easy and you told me I’m the one who gave up and quit.

I reminded you about all the women, broken promise and flat out lies.

You told me to shut my mouth if I knew what was wise.

You could never own up to your mistakes in life.

You are a fuckin failure and can’t even commit to your devoted wife.

I thought we were done but you saved the best for last.

I could see it in your eyes; you just wanted to kick my ass.

You promised you would go for full custody just to start more stuff.

You got pissed when I reminded you about your lack of commitment and called your bluff.

I knew what was next; I have prepared myself for this fight.

I truly didn’t think I had the strength to make it through the night.

Tossed into the bathroom, I clung to the floor.

I listened to his abusive words as I bled out on the bathroom floor.

I built up enough strength to stand up and look at the bruises and cuts on my skin.

I knew this was it and I will never let a man hit me again.

I sat on the floor and started crying.

I realized I wasted so many years spending all this time trying.

It’s so clear now; he never loved me from the start.

I was just one more girl to control and break her already fragile heart.

I wasn’t going to let him trap me again this time.

I refuse to let him take over my body again, he know what he did is a crime.

I had a plan, the one I said I would never do. I knew I had to wait for him to leave.

I took care of it all myself and was left to grieve.

I packed up my stuff and left the rest. It’s just not worth the fight.

I could see so much clearer and bloody hell, that light was bright.

I closed the door and smiled with relief.

I feel like I finally have my life back from a manipulative thief.

By April Cadran

Two years prior, to leaving my husband we started discussing separation and divorce and had even started dividing the household items and packaging them up. On one of those nights I confronted him about some missing items I had in a box that where clearly mine (panties and facial items) that I uncovered in his box after I discovered that they were missing. This started he started to argue and he conversation became heated, which I clearly wanted no part of. I decided to try to calm him, by telling him to take a deep breath and to take a walk, that I want no part of this argument and that I am going up stairs for him to cool off. As I walked up the stairs he started telling me what I piece of shit I am, that I’m a quitter, and that I gave up on our marriage. I ran up the stairs and locked myself in the bathroom (this was a habit when things got bad, it was the only safety I could find). He came upstairs and was able to open the bathroom pocket door. While continuing to yell at me, I opened the other bathroom door and ran down stairs to the garage door, which was locked. I knew I would not make it to the front door in time for him to catch me. So I locked myself in the down stairs bathroom. I sat on the floor with my back against to door and my legs against the cabinet preparing and bracing myself for what I knew was about to be a long night. I could hear him coming down the stairs, he didn’t run, he didn’t have to. He walked right up to the door and started banging on it in rage. He tried the door handle and the locked door only fueled his rage as he demanded that I open the door. I yelled back, telling him to go away, but he refused and started to force the bathroom door open by hitting it. The bathroom was very small, I was afraid he would kick in the door and hurt me in the process. He managed to pick the lock and I held the door handle as tight as I could so that he could not turn and open it, as he tried to force the door open, I used all the strength I had in my hand, back and legs to keep that door shut; pinning myself between the door and the cabinet for leverage. He continued to yell at me through the door and tell me how he was going to take our daughter away from me and I will never see her again if I don’t open up the bathroom door. I tried to ignore him as he continued to try and force his way into the bathroom, while I cried and held the door shut with all the strength I had.

After what seemed to be hours, he stopped banging on the bathroom door. I felt he gave up trying to get in and I thought I heard him go up the stairs. I quickly re-locked the door and laid my head against the door in relief. All I could hear was the pounding of my heartbeat in my chest that echoed in my head. It felt like I was sitting on the bathroom floor for an hour and I started to plan my escape. I thought I would be able to run from the bathroom door to the front door and get out of the house to safety. The biggest obstacle was the stupid wooden face in the tiny front yard; I always fumble with the tiny string to unlatch the gate. I was ready to try and I braced myself for the challenge; it was the only way. I quietly unlocked and opened the bathroom door slowly; I was startled to see him standing in front of the bathroom door. Before I could react and slam the door shut again, his hand rushed through the door opening it all the way and his other hand picked me up by my neck and threw me into the bathroom counter. He closed the door behind him and locked both of us in the bathroom. He stood in front of the bathroom door blocking the exit. I was not allowed to leave, I was held against my will. He started to yell at me with his fist in my face while I was pinned against the counter. He started telling me that I’m a bitch and I’m going to pay for this (for making him angry). I screamed for him to leave me alone, to get out of the bathroom and to go somewhere to calm down. He told me to try to get out of the bathroom. I began to scream for help as loud as I could. He grabbed me by my mouth and neck and threw me into the wall and the back of the toilet tank, hitting my back and head. When I started swinging my arms he grabbed my left arm and threw it to the side of the counter, cutting my wrist on my enlarger stand that sat on the counter. I started to bleed down my arm and I screamed louder wondering how no one could hear me. He put his hand over my mouth trying to shut me up and started to grab for my throat again, I tried to protect myself in fear for my life; I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could possibly kick him. He again picked me up by my neck and threw me into the wall, I hitting my head on the towel rack and again grabbed me by my neck and put me in a chock hold with his right arm. I thought this was the end but I wasn’t going to give up trying because I knew if he killed me, no one would ever find my body and he would go free. I was able to keep my chin down as close to my chest as possible. When I was close enough to his arm I bit down as hard as I could and he threw me to the floor. He pulling me away from the door by my hair and he unlocked the bathroom door and left the bathroom.

As I lay on the floor and noticed the blood that was on my white tank top, all over the floor and all over my arms. My throat burned from screaming and all the muscles in my body were sore. I didn’t want to look in the mirror to see what he did to my face and body, but I had to look. I slowly stood up and opened my eyes to see my hair was a mess, my eyeliner and mascara had run down my face leaving thick black streaks from my eyes to my chin, there was blood on my face and all over my body, my lip was fat, I had a bump on my cheekbone, and I could already see bruises starting to show on my skin. I knew he went upstairs to check on our daughter and make sure she was still asleep. I went to the phone in the kitchen, but the phone was missing. I slowly crept up the stairs to the master bedroom and then quickly locked myself in the master bedroom and ran to the phone. He must have seen me because he rushed through the master bathroom and into the bedroom as I was calling 9-1-1. The operator put me on hold and he began telling me what he would do to me if I have the police come to our house. He told me he would take our daughter away from me and I would never see her again, that the courts would give him full custody, that I’m a bad mother, that I would ruin his career and that he would make me pay for calling the police, that he could kill me and no one would ever find my body, and that he could make it look like an accident. I was so terrified and frantic that I hung up the phone. He told me if they call back I better have a real good excuse and the police better not come to our house. The 9-1-1 operator called me back and scolded me, she told me never to hang up the phone after calling 9-1-1. While trying to compose myself, I told her I was alright and that I had dialed the wrong number, meaning to call 4-1-1- on the phone. The dispatcher insisted on sending someone out to my house, I told her not to, that it was late and I was tired. She tried to tell me that it was ok and if I was in danger to give her a sign, anything, and she again asked me if I needed any help. I assured her I was fine and we hung up. I realized when the call ended, that I had made the big mistake ever by asking the dispatcher not to send anyone out that night.

He should have gone to jail and I would have been safe and protected from him. I would still be safe and protected to him now. But instead I have to fight and he still harasses me to this day.

Something is wrong.

For the past couple of weeks, all I feel is negativity. I hate being a negative person; I’ve spent far too much of my short life pondering on the bad, to waste any more time on it now. I want to be happy, I should be happy… But I am not.

Everyone around me seems to be a source of displeasure, acrimony and agitation. Even when I finally thought I had found the friend I could confide in during these rare moments of emotional catastrophe; all I want to do is tell her to “fuck off”. I see her name on MSN, or I see her around school, and I fill up with dread.

I thought it might have been due to her own “problems” she had, and her constant dribble about them to me. It was depressing to say the least. To be bombarded with so-called problems, or issues which she herself created, and brought down from temporary moments of happiness, it was frustrating. To hear “I am really sad or hurting right now”, when I’ve just had to endure the far more problematic issues of my Mother and finances, it made me angry. Yet, because she was feeling “down”, I didn’t dare put my problems on to her.

It would appear however, that this recent lapse in social skills, and emotional intelligence has transpired itself to a far greater scale. Everyone is the source of something negative, everyone is person I want to avoid. I have no desire to communicate with anyone, to be spoken to, to be seen, or anything. I want nothing more than to go on walks listening to Mozart, or finding something to read and hermiting myself away on a comfy sofa, in a quiet and unvisited room.

I suppose it doesn’t help either, when my sleep is disrupted too. I’m finding it nigh on impossible to get to my “sleepy place”. Y’know what I am on about, like a scene or scenario that no-matter what, you can place yourself, and whoever else you like there, feel happy and relaxed, and drift of to sleep. My place is impossible to reach, and if I am there, then bad things follow me. My mind is obviously in turmoil, and I don’t know what to do about it.

All in all, it’s producing a worse-off version of myself every single day. I feel distant, troubled and space-out. I feel emotional, but dead at the same time. I feel angry, but passive.

I’m fed up of it all. I’m fed up of having to constantly accept dormant apologies. I’m fed up of having to hear other people’s problems, whilst struggling with my own. I’m fed of only having one parent. I’m fed up of waking up in the morning and knowing that beyond my morning dance around my room, nothing else will make me happy during the day. I’m fed up of not telling people the truth when they should hear it. I’m fed up of being put to blame for every single thing that goes wrong. I’m fed up of being the “dependable one”, of being the daughter of the most dependent person one would ever have the misfortune to meet. I’m fed up of dreaming about the possibilities of meeting my other parent, and what life would be like if I knew him. I’m fed up of the memories, of being the unwanted step-daughter. I’m fed up of Christmas; I’m not a Christian, I don’t want meaningless presents, I don’t want Turkey, I don’t want to pretend to be around family who don’t really like each other. I’m fed up of being set-up by the girl who I want to be with. I’m fed-up of being made to feel guilty whenever I feel either all, some or more of these things, and being in this mood.

I even feel obliged now to apologise for this moan.

x

I dok se u ostatku svijeta Obama još uvijek tretira kao mesijanski spasitelj svijeta, među Amerikancima se njegova popularnost sve više bliži onoj kakvu danas uživa Mihail Gorbačov u Rusiji. Gallup je tako nedavno objavio kako je podrška Obami prvi put pala ispod psihološke granice od 50 posto – iako uz to ide obavezni “spin” kako su se u prvoj godini mandata s time bili suočili i kasnije uspješni predsjednici kao Reagan i Clinton. Kako stvari stoje, Obama se, usprkos Nobelovoj nagradi za mir – koju čak i neki njegovi najvatreniji pristaše smatraju još uvijek nezasluženom – sve manje čini velikanom koji je 2008. napisao povijest, a sve više “one hit wonderom”.

Jedan od razloga je sve očigledniji neuspjeh da bude isto onako dobar predsjednik kao što je bio predsjednički kandidat, odnosno da čvrstu koaliciju između stranačke ljevice i “pravovjernika” na jednoj te umjerenih i nezavisnih birača na drugoj strani, održi jednom kada je došao u Bijelu kuću. Potonji su se nakon nekoliko mjeseci brzo “ohladili” vidjevši da sa svojim ambicioznim socijalnim, ekološkim i drugim programima nastoji SAD skrenuti previše ulijevo za njihov ukus. To se odnosi i na zdravstvenu reformu, za koju su zaključili da će ih udariti po džepu.

Obama je, pak, sada prisiljen voditi borbu i na drugoj fronti, jer se protiv njegove politike počela buniti ljevica u Kongresu – odnosno isti oni krugovi čijoj fanatičnoj podršci duguje svoju mukotrpno izvojevanu pobjedu nad Hillary Clinton u stranačkim predizborima. Ljevičarima se čini da je Obama previše spor i neodlučan u reformama, a pronađen je krivac u obliku dvojca koji vodi njegovu ekonomsku politiku – ministra financija Timothyja Geithnera i glavnog ekonomskog savjetnika Larryja Summersa. Taj dvojac, koji je svoju reputaciju izgradio radeći u vodećim bankama Wall Streeta, odnosno u Clintonovoj administraciji koja je vodila pro-kapitalističku ekonomsku politiku, prema mišljenju ljevičara više vodi računa o interesima vodećih banaka nego američke sirotinje. Ključni argument je u tome da su se zahvaljujući Obaminoj politici vodeće banke oporavile od recesije, ali da istovremeno raste nezaposlenost i drastično pada standard kod najširih dijelova stanovništva. Stoga je demokratski kongresnik Peter DeFazio, vođa Kongresnog progresivnog kluba (CPC) koji okuplja ljevicu, javno pozvao Obamu da smijeni Geithnera i Summersa, rekavši “da će spasiti radna mjesta milijuna ljudi ako dvojica izgube posao”.

Trenutno izgleda malo vjerojatno da će Obama te sugestije poslušati, jer je njegova administracija previše zaokupljena borbom oko zdravstvene reforme, čiji ishod ovisi o glasovima nekoliko umjerenih demokratskih i republikanskih senatora. Ekonomija – zbog koje i reforma toliko stoji – će međutim naći put da postane glavno pitanje pred kongresne izbore 2010. godine, koji se u ovom trenutku ne izgledaju tako dobri za demokrate nego kao što je to bio slučaj prije godinu dana.

Bobbye and I spoke at Professional Women’s Fellowship last week. The topic was “Depression and the Holidays.” No one wants to think that the holidays could be associated with depression. We want to think that it is a time of joy and peace. However, the holidays can also be very  stressful. We already have no margin in our lives on an everyday basis and then we have to add more things in our less time schedules.

The holidays are also “remembrance markers.” In other words, if we received a great gift during a Christmas, we remember it. We might not remember which Christmas year but we definitely remember it was Christmas time. If we get into a family conflict or a death occurs during the holidays, every holiday season brings it back to mind.  Days can go by into weeks without having a remembrance marker but at the holidays, we remember the good and the bad things that have happened  during other holidays. As a result, the holidays can be painful.

So for some of us, we find ourselves needing to act happy when deep down, we are really sad. How do we deal with ourselves while having such conflicting emotional pulls?

I really believe that in order to heal from past wounds that have happened during the holidays, we have to give some constructive thought and give some carved out time to those things that have hurt us. We need the ability to take a break, sit down and reason with the Lord over them, especially during the holidays.

Bobbye was telling me the other day that she woke up at 2am to wrestle with the Lord about certain thoughts that continue to pull at her heart. She said, “I have to keep this concern close to the Lord. I have to depend on Him to work with my thoughts so I do not take this matter into my own hands.” She is a wise woman (and a good friend).

She has learned that it is not good to push down and suppress the conflicts because they will resurface. It is also not good to regurgitate your thoughts over and over or have practice sessions in your mind of what we should have, could have or would have said.  The more time we give to our own negative thoughts and incidences, the less ability we will have to reasonably make wise decisions.

Instead, we bring these things to the Lord. He is the only One who has the ability to change the situation or to change our perspective. We need to reason with the Lord until we know that our concerns are fully before Him. We need to be brutally honest with Him as He already knows what we are thinking and feeling. Then, when we get up from putting those things down, we can continue to live for Him instead of giving the time and attention to the conflict.

As the thoughts return, it is important to take it captive and say, “I have given that situation to the Lord. It is His concern now. I am choosing to trust Him.”

When I look back on my life, it has not been hassle free. I have had to deal with many conflicts and struggles as we all do. However, I can honestly tell you that the Lord has a way of working through them all if you allow Him to move in your heart and mind and you give Him time. God is on an eternal clock. He is not in a rush, not even during the Holidays.

i wanted all things to seem to make some sens, so we could all be happy, yes, instead of tense. and i made up llies, so they all fit nice, and i made this sad world a paradise….