I was waiting in a very long line at McDonald’s, which was wrapped all the way around the inside, and into the bathrooms in the back. Continue reading “Dream Journal 4/10/19 | A McDonald’s Brawl”
I was shopping in a Dollar General with one of my cousins and her father, who I had not seen since I was 10 or 11 years old. Continue reading “Dream Journal 1/29/19 | DG Beatdown”
I was in some sort of dive bar with a bunch of old friends from high school, just drinking and having a good time. Continue reading “Dream Journal 1/9/19 | Gas Station Confrontation”
The silence is deafening.
The silence is deafening. Continue reading “Small Stones 8/24/16”
City Hall was closed, and we didn’t want to bring everything back inside, so I shooed everyone away, and slept on the lawn in a tent, protecting all of our things.
I was pulling an old couch out of a large house, which was presumably mine, and dragging it to the curb. A woman asked me how much I wanted it, and I told her it was trash, and she shrugged and started dragging it away. I starting calling to her, telling her that she couldn’t just take it, but she ignored me. My mom walked out of the house behind me, and asked me what happened. I told her, and said that maybe we should have a yard sale to get rid of all of our old junk, since people apparently wanted it. Continue reading “Dream Journal 7/21/16 | Yard Sale”
A barista asked us if we wanted anything, and she seemed very flirty with Kyle, which irked me a bit, but we told her we did not want anything, which did not make her happy.
Kyle and I were about to start our vacation in London. We had just gotten out of the back of a cab, when Kyle’s phone rang, and we were informed that our hotel had a gas leak, and that we could not stay there. Frustrated, we dragged our luggage into a small cafe across the street, and tried to figure out our next move. We were sitting at our table, scrolling through hotel listings on our phones, when a man approached us. I looked up, and there, standing by our table, was Felix Kjellberg… or PewDiePie, as you may also know him as. Continue reading “Dream Journal 7/3/16”
Life. Life can be such shit sometimes.
[In response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt 6/21/2016 | Companion]
Things have been a bit strained lately with Kyle and I. We’re okay for the most part, and we’re not fighting or anything, but there are some things we need to talk about, and get out into the open, but we’ve been having a hard time talking it out. As I’ve mentioned before, Kyle has been trying to get into a class at the local community college to get his CDL, but has been having a very hard time. The class costs nearly $5,000, and we do not have the money to just drop on this class. He has tried financial aide, but they don’t offer it for this class. He has tried several different kinds of loans, through the school and several different banks and lenders, but even after trying both my mom and I as co-signers, he was turned down. For everything. He also got pre-hired by one trucking company to try and get a loan, but it was garbage, and did not help at all. And time is running out. Continue reading “Daily Prompt 6/21/2016 | Companion”
It was nighttime. Kyle and I were outside, on the deck of a large duplex, presumably ours, sitting in wooden Adirondack chairs, talking. A young girl, probably 7 or 8 years old, walked up to the stairs to the deck and started kicking and shaking the wooden rails violently. Kyle stood up and yelled at her to stop, and she ran into the duplex next door. Several minutes passed, and we decided to go back inside. We shut off the lights and climbed into bed, but were immediately disturbed by loud pounding on our door.
By the time we got to the door, the door had been broken open, and a large group of people were pushing into the living room. The woman in front was our neighbor (yes, our real neighbor that I always complain about), and she demanded to know what we did to her daughter, who was at home crying. We told her that she was vandalizing our property, and we yelled for her to stop, and that was it. She claimed that her daughter came home covered in bruises, and I laughed and told her that bruises didn’t form in the span of 5 minutes. She got so angry that she turned red, and ordered the people behind her to tear apart our living room.
Kyle and I stepped in front of them, and I shoved another woman who tried to push by me. She grabbed my shoulders and tried to move me, and I punched her in the face, causing her to stumble backwards, screaming. The rest of the group, except for my neighbor, ran from our apartment, while she stood there fuming. I picked up a large vase from the end table nearby, and threw it at her head. She ducked, and ran out the door.
We woke up after falling asleep on the couch, and Liam was standing in the living room, pointing at one of the windows. I looked up and saw that all of our windows had been broken, and there was glass everywhere. I picked up Liam and Kyle got on the phone with the police. I went next door, still holding Liam, and kicked the door down. I had a large torch in my hand, and tossed it onto the large sectional in the middle of the room. I could hear my neighbor screaming from the back of the apartment, and I picked up another torch, and threw it into the kitchen, which went up in flames immediately.
I calmly walked out, and Kyle was waiting for me by the car, carrying Liam’s favorite Froggy stuffed animal, as well as my diaper bag. We left the property, and Kyle asked where I wanted to have breakfast. I told him Steak ‘n Shake, and we headed that way. I could see a massive mushroom cloud of smoke behind us where the apartment was, and I just laughed.
I ordered a taco salad at Steak ‘n Shake, and a milkshake, which was a terrifyingly bright, neon purple color, but seemed delicious.
Then I woke up.
PSA: Just because something is not YOUR problem, does not mean it is not an important problem for others.
WARNING: Strong language.
Hello, friends. I have a general rule for myself when it comes to dealing with internet trolls: DO NOT interact with them. Don’t. Just don’t do it. Lately, I have been having a hard time abiding by this rule. With the current state of politics and the presidential race, as well as the women’s rights movement (International Women’s Day was just a few days ago), various LGBT rights movements, and other pro-equality movements going on, our nation has become a nation divided in the ugliest of ways. I am very upfront with my political and moral views, and most of you know than I am an Agnostic Atheist, who believes in equality for everyone. I am not only an LGBT ally, but also a Pansexual woman, and member of the community. I am also a feminist, and a Liberal. I don’t really care if you dislike me for those reasons, because your close-mindedness does not effect me, and I don’t want you in my life if you choose to judge me based on those facts. For just these reasons alone, I have been judged very critically by complete strangers who know absolutely nothing about me, and who throw wild generalizations at me, and that isn’t fair.
I have been called everything from a libtard, feminazi, fag lover, and so much more… all because I believe in basic, human rights and equality for everyone, which apparently, is an awful thing. Who knew?
For the last several days, I have been engaged in a handful of online comment wars, spanning across Facebook, YouTube, Instagram, and Twitter. Sometimes, I am guilty of being a bit of an instigator, but more often than not, I simply voiced my appreciation on a topic. I am not a troll. I do not scour the web in search of things that I wholly disagree with with every fiber of my being, just to jump into the comment section and spew ignorance and hatred on the subject. I also rarely skim through comments in search of someone who supports said topic, just to call them names and trash their opinions. I don’t make a habit of fucking attacking people on a personal level just because I disagree with something they say on the internet.
Apparently, I am a minority when it comes to this sort of behavior, because people online are fucking assholes. Shocking, I know!
Recently, an LGBT/equality page that I follow on Facebook posted the following picture:
This graphic was posted on International Women’s Day, and while it did received a ton of praise from the LGBT community and its allies, it also received a lot of backlash from a lot of people who knew very little on the subject, and really had nothing of value to input other than “Fuck Caitlyn Jenner!” or “Until you’ve had a child you’re not REALLY a woman.”, both of which have nothing to do with what was said. The latter isn’t even a correct statement.
I posted the following two comments beneath the photo:
Both comments received more positive feedback than negative, but there were a few people that had apparently just had a bad day, and wanted to tear everyone on this page apart for no reason. There were even a few commenters that were clearly fake accounts, created for the sole purpose of trying to hurt other people who disagreed with their views. Others had nothing of value to say other than calling me ridiculous names, or paraphrasing the Bible in all caps, WHICH AS WE ALL KNOW MAKES YOU SOUND SO MUCH MORE INTELLIGENT.
Why? WHY? What could you possibly get out of doing something like that? You are about as unlikely to change my way of thinking as I am to change yours, and that’s why I don’t waste my fucking time.
On a day that was for celebrating ALL women, there were feminists who wanted nothing more than to point out how they felt that trans women weren’t women, and gave them no support at all. There were civil rights activists, and #BlackLivesMatter activists, talking about how trans people, as well as the LGBT community in general, did not deserve rights, let alone to be recognized in a holiday. This lead me into several, one-sided, heated “debates” (I can’t even really call them that, because only one side had anything logical to contribute) across all of my social media platforms, that I let get to me. I couldn’t stop.
I let these trolling, immature, ignorant, terrible people get to me. I broke my own rule. And boy, did it get me fired up.
How can people actually think like that? It is 2016! How can you still have so much hate in your heart that you think it is okay to hurt people like that? I’m not even a member of the trans community, but as a woman who has struggled with her sexual identity for many years, I can certainly tell you how hard it is to KNOW that you one thing, but have everyone around you tell you that you aren’t, for a whole list of bullshit reasons. What if you were black, and people told you that you weren’t black enough, because of your eye or hair color? Telling you that you weren’t what you KNEW you were, what you were meant to be, because you didn’t look like it on the outside? That would hurt. You would be stuck feeling like you don’t belong on either side of the tracks, and it would tear you apart.
No one deserves to feel that way.
There are people who use sources like the Bible to back up their behavior, thinking that they are doing their god’s work in tearing down and hurting these people, because they disagree with how they live their lives, and that is WRONG. But even more wrong are the people who have absolutely no reason to hate these people, and choose to anyway.
Hatred is a choice.
Sexuality, gender dysphoria, and race are not.
If you want equality for women, or African Americans, or Latinos, but not for your brothers and sisters in the LGBT community, then you want privilege. Not equality. Those are not the same thing.
PSA: Just because something is not YOUR problem, does not mean it is not an important problem for others.
I’m so done. Back to my happy place.
[Just now, as I finish writing this, I am reading the comments beneath Ingrid Nilsen’s latest video on public bathrooms and gender identity, and it is honestly making me want to scream and rip my hair out. I fucking hate people.]
Kyle and I were living in Maine, in my grandparents’ old house. We had won a trip to some tropical location, and we were supposed to leave that morning. We were running around like crazy, trying to shove all of our suitcases and bags into the back of the car. The phone rang, and it was the travel agency, telling us that our flight was delayed half an hour.
Kyle and I went back inside, and proceeded to verbally make a list of all of the things that we could accomplish in the 30 extra minutes that we now had. I got online and started looking up maps of the area we were going to, and making plans on what destinations to visit. Kyle started opening all the suitcases, and packing extra things in them. After 30 minutes, we started moving everything back into the car, and then my phone rang again, and it was the travel agency, telling us our flight was delayed another 30 minutes. We went back inside, and repeated the process.
After another 3o minutes, we would outside, and there was an elderly man standing by our car. He asked us where we were going with his car, and we told him he was mistaken, because it was our car, and we were in a hurry. He slammed his hands on the hood, and told us he wasn’t going to let us leave. We put the car in reverse and drove away, with him screaming in our driveway.
As we were driving, the travel agency kept calling my phone, and I let it go to voicemail each time. Once we got to the airport, we found out that our flight had left almost 2 hours prior, and that there was nothing we could do. We called the travel agency, but the line had been disconnected. We asked the people at the airport if there was anyway we could get a different flight, and tried to explain that our agent was mistaken and we couldn’t get a hold of her. They told us they would look into it, and that we should stick around.
We started walking around the massive airport, and decided to stop and get food at McDonald’s. They called our name over the speakers, and we went back to the desk. They told us there was another plane leaving in 10 minutes, but it was a longer flight, but we could go on it if we wanted. We agreed and got on the plane, where we were seated in first class.
The other passengers were boarding the plane, and all of them glared at us as they got on. We tried to ignore them, but one woman “dropped” her water bottle on me, while it was still open, and I stood up and pushed her. Then we starting throwing punches. No one stepped in to help, and everyone just stood there.
And then I woke up (but I was totally winning).