I bitch and complain here all the time, but this is from an actual desktop - so it's like Ramble Bitching 2.0. Fast typin', fast thinkin', I don't know what is going to come out of these finger tips today. Because I have a lot of weird energy.
I'm tired and I know that I say I'm tired all the time, but I'm just. Exhausted. I know that nothing happens unless you make it happen, but I try to make it happen all the time and I always come up short.
I don't want to be the person who always talks about how it's not fair, but it's not fair?
I'm not even thirty yet and I feel like my life is already over because I can't afford to live. I live with my mother and my cat. I live in a 30+ year old trailer that is falling apart. We have two bathrooms, but one of them has a rotten floor and we haven't used it since 2016, at least. The other bathroom is through my mom's room, so any time I need to use the toilet or shower I have to go through her room. From where the floor is rotting, the floor in the adjacent room (the computer room) is also starting to rot.
There's a hole in the ceiling in the living room. We don't have actual curtains in any of the rooms except for my mothers room and the living room. I have tapestries hanging off of a rod in my room and this room has nothing. The bedrooms are all half painted because I can't reach the top bits because I'm too short and nobody will lend us a ladder. Underneath our house is a hellscape. There is stuff under there from when my dad lived here and it's all rotten and messed up and if you didn't know where it had come from, or that it was already there - you'd think someone was living under there. And to make it worse, we have a lock on the outside, so it looks like we're trapping someone under there. Which isn't true.
Our pipes are bad. We have plumbing problems all the time. Most recently, the pipe in the well cracked. Now we have dirt in our water, so I can't drink my tap water. I have to buy bottled. Which is dumb because I shouldn't have to buy water if I have water.
We can't wash laundry and take a shower on the same day because our pipes can't handle it. The sink in the kitchen is leaking and I hate doing dishes because they're not mine and I shouldn't have to do them all the time, but mother complains that she's not doing them for the same reason. I use one bowl, one frying pan, one plate, one mixing bowl, and disposable 'silverware'. That's not all that's in the sink? There are a ton of other things that I wouldn't even use. So I don't know why she thinks that it's my problem.
I have my medical billing and coding certificate and I should be able to get a job with that but I'm not even sure I want to because I've been doing webinars for it and I don't know what the fuck is going on. I guess I'm just trying to keep it updated in case something comes along and they're super nice and understanding and want to help me learn.
I have two friends in this world. The guy at work and Meggy. And I feel weird and guilty messaging GAW and Meggy has shit going on and I don't want to bother her. And partially, selfishly, I don't want to text her because I know I'll be roped into her relationship drama and I don't want to be.
It's like everything I do and nothing I do matters all at the same time.
I don't want to feel like I have nothing to live for at this age. I should have at least made more mistakes to get me here, I should have done something to make me feel this bad. But...unfortunately, this is just how it is now. I don't know what it means to be happy anymore? Like. Do I? I smile, I laugh, but it feels superficial. It feels like I'm just doing it because I know what it is, not because I actually feel it.
I want to be better and I want to feel better and I want to do better. Everything happens in its own time, sure. But I'm tired of waiting, but I can't do anything but wait.
And related, unrelated. One of the most annoying things. I don't have a car because I'm poor and have nobody to help me learn how to buy one. There are so many people with so many different opinions on what I should buy and when I should buy. It gets on my nerves when people don't take into account that I don't have enough money for a down payment right now and that I don't want a huge payment - but they're telling me I need to buy a car and I need to buy it now. Because, unless you want to buy me a car - butt out of my life. I hate that so much. Everyone at work knows that my mother drives me to work because I don't have a car. And every single person has an opinion on that.
"You should buy a car", "Don't get a new car", "You're almost 30? Shouldn't you be driving by now?", "You need your independence", "Your mom is going to die one day and what will you do then? The bus doesn't come out this far."
I know all of this. I literally know all of this. I hear it all the time so even if I didn't, you're not the first person to say something to me about it. I wasn't raised with a silver spoon in my mouth. I was raised fighting for my life. Kind of. We've been poor my entire life. I remember going to the flea market to sell stuff because we weren't making it on what jobs my parents had. I remember not having food some days. I remember never being popular or fitting in because I looked poor. I remember once I got my first job and having to help my mom with the bills because she was barely able to pay them before. I remember buying my own cellphone, my own clothes, my own everything. I support myself mostly. But I can't support myself on my own.
Although broken down and trashy, I live in a house that's fully paid off. Which, my grandad paid for, or we wouldn't have it. I can't afford a house in this economy. I can't afford much at all in this economy. The world is a scary place and I have to do it by myself.
For a long time I thought if I could just hold on, someone would see me and like me and want to be nice and good and I could move forward and move in with them and marry them and escape this life. But. I can't. There was Jacob. And he fully believed we were going to be a super long term thing. But...I just wasn't feeling it. I was resentful a lot in the last bit of our relationship. I didn't want to have sex with him and he made me feel guilty about it, so I just did because it was easier that dealing with him pouting. I told him a few times that I just didn't want to anymore and it wasn't really doing anything for me. He never used lube, so it always hurt and always burned. He barely knew how to use a condom and sometimes it would snap because of how forceful he was about putting it on, but he'd still want to. He wasn't physically aggressive about it? But manipulative about it?
Then I thought that Dusty was a good guy. LOL A huge joke on me. I don't even know what the fuck was going on with me at that point in my life. I've blocked most of it out because I don't know if I wanted any of it to happen and it makes me feel weird and self conscious. I went out to dinner with him and I thought that's what might happen, but once we got there I didn't want it anymore. He didn't ask me? He just did. And the entire ride home just felt. Dirty. And thinking back on it. He was just a little fucker. Because I'm remembering this time, after that happened, Jacob and I were 'mending our relationship' (AKA I felt too bad about breaking up with him so I just let him believe nothing was wrong...) and Jacob had gone on break and said he'd be outside, but I needed to get someone to cover me for me to go, and Dusty came up front and I don't remember what happened exactly, but I think he asked me where Jacob was. And he went outside to 'talk' to Jacob. Once I finally got someone to take my position, I was so keyed up and worried about what they were talking about. I went outside and they hadn't really been talking about anything. And I remember Dusty specifically said, "Oh yeah, your girlfriend is a piece of work." And he like...made it a point to remind everyone I was dating Jacob. And Jacob was confused about what happened. And then at the end of the year (this happened in November) I do a memory jar and one of the things I had written was 'fucked dusty' and Jacob saw it. I know he did because he questioned me and I lied my way out of it. I said that's just really bad cursive and it says 'fucking dusty' because of some story I made up about how he was funny. I don't know. And then I was having Dusty come over when I was still dating Jacob under the guise of friendship. Again, you guys have to remember I live with my mother. He would bring me dinner a lot of the time and we would hang out in my room and he would finger me. I sucked him off a couple of times, but it was mostly him doing stuff to me. And him and Jacob became really good friends during all of this. Meanwhile, he's fucking around with the girlfriend and another girl at work. Then he eventually...well. I don't know. He slept with the other girl at work and compared me to her a lot. And I'm not trying to be mean - but she was bigger than I was and that messed me up a lot. Because I have body dysphoria and I'm not actually sure what I look like, but I don't know if I'm fat or not? I wasn't fat at the time. I weighed 140 pounds and didn't wear a bra because my boobs were so small and my stomach wasn't past them if that gives you an idea of how big I was. But when he compared me to her it broke me a little more than it should have. And maybe that was his goal? To break me all the way down? I don't know. He was 19 at the time. I don't know if he would have been that type of person. He always bragging about how smart he was and how he was homeschooled and how his IQ was super high. So maybe he was? Any who - back to what I was saying. He slept with this girl and her super religious family found out about it and then he got roped into proposing to her. I saw the ring. I saw them at work. She eventually told her family that isn't how she wanted to live and she liked someone else and Dusty was just a mistake. So then she ended up getting married to the other guy and has 2 or 3 kids now. But after this entire thing...I don't remember what happened.
I quit? I think I quit my job. Because I was going to school when COVID was first a thing and had to stop going to in person classes - and Dusty would come all the way to my college to eat lunch with me on his hour lunch break. And Jacob would pick me up and I would just pray they wouldn't see each other in the parking lot.
And none of this makes me a bad person, but am I a bad person for missing Dusty more than Jacob?
I dated him for two years and the entire two years I told him we had nothing in common and I constantly questioned why he even liked me. He never had a real answer. I did whatever I did with Dusty for like 6 months. My time line could be off. I'm going to look back through my other blog and see if I can get a better definitive timeline.
On January 9, 2018 - I had been dating Jacob for 3 months. So I started dating him October 7, 2017. I know we dated when I changed jobs because he came there once and it was weird. And I got that job.....in 2019? In June? July? And COVID really started hitting in December here and that's about when we stopped going to classes and did virtual because I remember it happening right before Christmas break. So. When was I doing shit with Dusty? 2018? I deleted all of my messages with him because Jacob was nosey and looked through my phone all the time and I was afraid he'd find them, even though he was in my phone as DJ. Which is a weird thought I hadn't had in a while. And as I'm thinking about it I check my phone to see if it's still in there and it is. I should call him. No. I'm not that dumb. It's been 5 years lol what the fuck was that thought even about right there. It's 4am that's what that thought was. I wish I had kept all of our texts. We truly were friends. We talked on the phone a lot and I cried a lot. I remember when I had broken up with Jacob one time, it was really ugly. He was at my house and I told him and he made it really weird. And he was like, 'Just one more kiss before I leave' and he made me kiss him while he was sobbing on my couch. And he eventually left. It was just fucking weird. And I was so upset about the entire thing. The breaking up, the weirdness, the thought of having to deal with him at work, and him telling people how mean I was to him by breaking up with him - and then Dusty called me. I told him Jacob was coming over and he knew what time he normally left. So he called me to check on me. And I was putting stuff that Jacob had given me in a box and I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. And Dusty asked me what I was doing. I told him I wasn't doing anything. And he said, "I know what you're doing. Just stop. Take a breath. And talk to me." And I did. And it helped. And we talked all night. Jacob usually left around 10:30 and I had to work the next day and I don't remember going to bed, but I did and I fell asleep on the phone and when I woke up he was still there. He brought me breakfast that day. Off the clock. He just dropped it off for me and left.
As Teenage Dirtbag starts playing.
I'm older than he is by the way. Both of them. Jacob was 2 years younger than me and Dusty...was? 18/19. And I was. 23/24? At the time. I've always felt weird about that as well. How did I let someone who was 6 years younger than me make me feel so bad and manipulate me into weird shit.
What's he like now? He's 23/24 now. Crazy. Is he still a dirtbag? Is he a normal adult? He has no reason to remember me or anything that happened, but does he? If he saw me out in public, would he recognize me? I really do look like that other girl now. I've gained a lot of weight since I worked with him.
lol I was just talking to GAW about how some times I just really feel like I want to cry but I can't because I'm always doing something that needs non-tear filled eyes. Who knew that it would take me admitting that I miss Dusty and I miss him more than Jacob that would make this happen. I mean, literally. It's been half a decade. I guess I have the pleasure of knowing that next year it'll be the seven years that it takes for a body's cells to fully regenerate. But until then, I guess I'm stuck holding onto every last cell that remembers him.
I should just let laying dogs lie. I decided to look back through some old posts and now I'm sad. I reread about the time I was in the freezer and got groped and how E responded to me. And now I miss her. Most of the time I don't even think about her anymore. But deep down, I miss her a lot. We were friends for nearly 10 years. This year would have been ten. And I think we just grew apart. But that doesn't make it easier.
What is my problem? I am? Something. I'm not running people off, they're just leaving in their due time.
I've made myself more sad because I looked up all of my posts with any similar tags to the ones I would have used and there were some. My favorite (most detrimental) was the one where I quoted Dusty saying, "I'd take you home and keep you forever if I could" - he said this when I was crying one day. And I thought it was sweet.
I want to get off of the Dusty train now. So one last lil blep. How do I get over this? He wasn't nice or good in the end, but I remember him for the good he did. And it makes me sad, but I don't want to associate the good parts with the bad parts, but maybe that's the problem. I need to see both and then I'll be over it?
Why do you guys think I don't like myself?
I complain here all the time, you'd assume you would have some opinions on it. I need to work on my confidence and I do really need to get a car. I'm working on it. A lot of tarot readings I've been getting lately have been mentioning getting a car in March and big changes happening in March. But? I don't know what it could be alluding to. Because I'm not going to have that kind of money by then.
I've been looking into the 'I am' method of manifesting. I forget what it's called. But I watched a video about this man saying he wished he were somewhere else and a friend of his told him to say 'I am there' - and eventually he ended up there.
I need to love myself and I need to get over myself. I am enough and I am good and I am lovable. I am.
It's 5am now and I've honestly been coming and going on this post since after 10pm. I've had to take a few cry breaks and a pizza break. So I'm going to go to bed because I have a lot of shit to do today and I think I should get some sleep.
This is about the length of an extremely concise novella.
If any of you read all of this - cool. Thanks. I love you.
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Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.
Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).
Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.
Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.
Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).
AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.
But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s
At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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