you know what

forget it. this blog is dead too. from now on, I will use a new blog; the life of a moderate fangirl, which can be found here: therewerentanygoodurlsleft.blogspot.com

long time no c

I think it's cause I'm not so depressed anymore.
That's because it's been replaced with insanity and an insufferable attitude. not that I didn't have one before, of course.
It's because I officially discovered Doctor Who. and through that, tumblr.
it's majestical. there are other people out there like me who are toatally mental! :D
I spent ten minutes scrolling down my dashboard once and I was laughing so hard and I couldn't stop, and I looked like a retarded seal just clapping it's hand together, and I was like help me...

so yeah.

so my mother has not given up her crusade against my non humanness. I was signed up to do a dance class thing a few months back, though it turned out to be a relatively enjoyable experience, her motive behind it was to straighten my posture. She continue to poke me about handwriting, drinking water, and smiling, among other things. she's also on my back about SAT's, and getting a medial volunteershipness thing. I have an interview tomorrow, and she basically explained to me that my answers to their questions will have to show a personality that's confident, outgoing, believes in good and helping people. basically the perfect person. and also everything I am not.

yay me.

I've actually spent some time compiling a document of rants and lists about my mother.
I might post the list here someday. the rants would make no sense unless you knew the context.

a disturbed nightfury

volunteer hours...and other stuff

My mom's convinced I should document them. all of them. all the way back to seventh grade, when I was doing a dumbed down version of Beta club. I can't remember them.
WHYWHYWHY@#$%*$%#@*%$*#@etcetc

I get that I have to do it for college, but c'mon! My dad's trying to get me to write journal entries about it, so when I send them in (which I wouldn't just to tick them off) to the college app officials,  so they can see my "personality".  I have reason's to back that argument up: a) my personality is awful. the only thing my "volunteer journal" would ensure is that I don't get picked,, and b) If you were  given the choice of writing more or less, which would you choose? My answer: less. obviously.

Moving on......
I recently had an epiphany as to why I have an instinctual fear of authority and adults in general:
When I was about 3 (I think) and my mom had to work, she sent me to this family for the day. I remember they lived in a tiny trailer with a boy and a girl, the girl probably a little younger than me. Brattiest. Kid. Ever. Or maybe that's just because my parents tended to give me what I wanted. Of course, my status on the hierarchy of rights in that trailer was probably, from what I can glean from my memory, at the very bottom. My three-year-old self was completely oblivious to that fact,  though.
One particular incident I can remember. We were playing in their toy room with a doll house. Earlier in the day, I had committed some crimes, and now I can't remember what they were, but I do remember receiving warnings from the girl's large and relatively intimidating mother. When I was trying yank the plastic key from the kid so I could stick it in the little door, and turn it and open it like an adult would, she started crying. It was a bit of a mix between yelling and crying; if you've heard a toddler trying to talk while they're crying really loud, you know what I mean. I suppose because I was older, I was annoyed because I thought I clearly had the authority over her due to my age.
Anyway, the mom barged straight into the door, tore the house out of my hands, picked me up with one arm, dragged me, still in relative shock at the suddenness of her attack, to the their TV room, or the den, I think it's called. There, I was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, and told to lay there until she told me I could get up. If I was bigger and stronger, I would have ditched the place right then, but of course, when you are younger, you are also smaller, and when you are smaller, everything automatically becomes bigger. That why we can look down on our parents and still feel a sense of authority coming from them. So of course, I lay on the floor. for the rest of the afternoon. I think I even took a nap. But that is probably part of my deep rooted fear of adults, and I can still almost feel my stomach drop every time they confront me with a wrong doing.

the sad truth

The sad truth is that I am nothing. I am not special or useful. I provide no joy or happiness to this world. No contribution that could help someone else. I am completely useless.  Worse, I don't just do nothing, I take things. I am many of the parasitic people around the world who do nothing and take everything. The passive man, as Ayn Rand called it. The downfall of society. And that is the sad, sad truth.

If you've seen this blog before (And by now I'm sure no one looks because it's basically a whiny teenager complaining about how much their life sucks) You know I promised myself no one would ever see me cry again. ever. because showing emotional pain is one of the biggest weaknesses that can be exploited, and it is one of the big risks of being a human. Especially of one living in a first world country, where people already have material possessions, so they can dedicate more time to other things. Hurting people using non-physical violence is one of them. I'm not going to be a hypocrite; I mock people too; but I never directly insult their intelligence or their selves. Especially because all of the people I've insulted are usually smarter or better than me in some way. I'm not trying to bring them down to my level, however- I'm just trying to prove to myself that they have flaws too.

It's different when you're being deliberately told that you are nothing special. And it's especially hard when you have nothing to defend yourself with, because then that proves that you really are nothing. And there is nothing special you have done that would make you better than other people in some way. that is what almost made me break my promise.
I have an all-state audition in mid January. Naturally because last year was my first time, I bombed it and it traumatized me for weeks. I still haven't really got over how I managed to mess up so badly, but at least I can think about it without cringing now.
This year, since I, by some miracle, landed myself a first chair, I'm required to try out again. If given the choice, I'd avoid the thought of have to try out like the plague, bu there's only three weeks left, and I haven't gotten any better since I plateaued out about four weeks ago. To add insult to the injury, my dad has taken it upon himself to lecture me on why I should put more effort into playing.
I suppose I haven't been it explaining it right to my parents. To me, the violin is bit like a pet dog. Someone else's pet dog. I don't particularly like it, but since it's there, I may as well accommodate it. I'll take care of it, And I enjoy it's company when it's not being irritable, but I don't really love it, nor do I feel the need to.
They've described how "real" musicians feel the music for what is, and expression of emotions  through sound verses a series of notes. I've begun to look upon that place as a utopia I will never understand or enter.
Really at this point it's too late to quit- they've already forced me to waste almost all of my childhood doing this. It annoys me to think that the only time I could have objected to being subjected this tedious daily activity, I was too young to know how to object.

I've basically wasted any time I had to prepare for what happens after I leave the nest.
And now I have no idea how I'm going to survive.

please ignore. It's for Magic pets. -.-

nother blog!?

so this is not really a vent or anything like one, really.
I've recently been spending a lot of time living other people's lives, which is to say, I've been watching a lot of youtube and and other things like it.

So it's come to my attention that I'm considering a lot of movies review posts, which is not the pupose of this blog.
So i'm making another one, which is linked here: anightfuryandmovies.blogspot.com
I'll be posting random videos I've seen and holding conversations about movies I've watched.... with myself. -.-

hopefully I'll actually use it some.

hi. not really.

I watched the Avengers, and I think it knocked How to Train Your Dragon down a spot.
I never expected this to happen! I thought, for the rest of my life, I would spend my time agonizing over the tiniest details of the movie and the story behind the the dragons and extraordinary charcters.

But then the Avengers showed up and that operation screeched to a standstill. Each Avenger has made an appearance in at least one of Marvel's previous four movies. So this basically provides me to with the huge and extremely entertaining project of watching them till I have all of the theme music, plotlines, and quotes memorized down to the "a's" and "the's".

If, of course, I could convince my parents to let me get them. -.-

Then after this round of Avengers, Marvel has also planned an Avengers 2, but not before and Iron Man 3, Thor 2, and, quite possibly, a Captain America 2 as well. Which means I need to hurry to commit the first round to memory before I dive in to round two.

You, know, I think I could do decently as a movie reviewer. :P

g2g

I'm going to China for 5 weeks starting tmrw. So don't expect any activity from this blog until to end of that time period. g2g now, b4 me parents put my head on a spit.

Off I go, off I go, la di da, la di do.

Truce

I'm telling you now; this post has nothing to do with my recent daily life and concerns a mental process I use to keep myself stoic. You have been warned.

I made a truce-or a pact is more appropriate- with myself several months back, a few weeks after TYS auditions, which, just like All state, I failed (but not enough so that I wouldn't make the cut!). Even though it was less traumatizing, I made a promise with myself: I would keep myself in control. I would put a steel lid on the box containing my bitter anger and petty complaints, and weld it in place, so that I would have to blow torch it to let it back out again. In exchange, I would be able to control my facial expressions (mostly of pain) and bite back my retorts till no one was looking. And at that point I could hide in corner and cry myself out, opening myself to all the trifles and biting remarks that had been said to me over the past weeks, letting them blowtorch my Box of control and letting all of my pathetic tears out, before returning in the morning, empty, mellow, and ready to start the whole process all over again. Never again would I have to listen to my parents complain about my sensitivity when I leave the table, my face a mess. Finally, I found a solution to prevent myself from sitting next to 303 in humiliation, tears dripping down my face as I silently listen to its criticisms about every aspect of my existence that always hit home in some twisted way.
Outside of my box, I also have another shield that prevents anyone from the privilege of adding to my Box. I call it my Shell. It kind of works like a private group on Facebook. I'm the administrator, and anyone I'm already acquainted with is a hacker attempting to get into the group. Of course, the hackers aren't the only ones that can damage my Shell. Ms. O'Rawe bears me no enmity, I believe, nor does she show me much kindness, either. But she as she was the one who delivered the news that I did not make a learning gain for my math EoG's. Even though I handed her the hammer, she's the one responsible for for using it to send finger-like cracks all along my Shell by setting up the pizza party.
My Shell can also be strengthened as well. And you may think I need compliments or a good day/grade, but really I'm strengthened most when I feel normal, when I sm average, and no one is watching me too closely or judging me in any way at all, good or bad. If I could be just one person in an endless sea of faceless students, going about my day in a robotic manner, my Shell would be as tough as a titanium alloy by now. But sadly, life as a student is fraught with constant change and diversity, where people change you and are change by others, and, unfortunately, a place where no one's feelings or judgement can be spared.

Some mothers' day it's been so far.

I'm pretty sure mothers' day does not give your mother the right to change her mind about what you should be doing every five seconds -.-, especially if what you're doing has reason to it. But noooooo, she has to win, she has to get her way, no matter how ludicrous it is. It's the weekend! Just leave me alone. Please. This is the only time I have to myself.