Omen? Oyes.

*caution bad language
I'm just trying to be polite, you pricks...

I just watched Apocalypto for the third time. Gad damn how it makes me thirsty. And depressed. And really ravenous for an ethnic tattoo. Nonetheless, a good movie. If you have a strong stomach against tragic pillaging and disemboweling scenes, I highly recommend it.

Today was a shitty day. If you don't mind I'm going to vent about it, mentioning some things that could be produced out of irrational frustration and anger.

Woke up this morning with my sinuses all messed up from Lucifer knows what, and I'm beginning to doubt it's allergies. I'm so sick--no pun intended--of there being ALWAYS something wrong with my body, whether it's cold-like symptoms, cramps, acne, blisters, cat scratches, bruises, stretch marks, or whatever else. This situation, the "there's always something wrong with my body" situation, hinders me from being more outgoing and confident, I think. I mean, when you're totally comfortable in your own skin you tend to have a brighter perspective of things during that time you feel totally comfortable. This, of course, varies. Take some my friends, who are freerunners. They spend practically all their free time doing psychotic athletic tricks that koala-like artists like me can't comprehend, and they are constantly getting hurt. Broken foot, sprained ankle, twisted this, messed up that, but they keep going. Why? Not quite sure. It's their passion, I think, or their obsession. They just have to trick and feel that rush of being amazing and above us lesser beings.
That's cruel opinion, I know.
Hey, I said irrational.

Another thing that pisses me off...not being comfortable in the clothes you wear. Petty, isn't it? I mean, that's really trivial and insignificant. Still, that doesn't mean that I can't be pissed off at it. I buy certain clothes based not exactly what's my style, I buy based on how much money I have and when and where my parents are willing to drive us in order to shop, and also based on what American retail stores are offering.

If it were really up to me, I'd be dressed in tribal tunics or other gypsy-wear. Not "in style", I know. But fuck what they tell me to wear.
Anyway...the physical discomfort of what I was wearing today (skinny jeans too small for me and a vintage blouse that's older than I am by three times) added to the already existing physical discomfort of the upturned underworld of unhealthiness in my head (acne, runny nose, bruises, stupid zombie-bite blister). So you can probably imagine that it wasn't the smartest idea to embark on roaming about in the public.
I know what you're thinking (most of you), "No one cares."
But they do. Call me paranoid, call me irrational, call me melodramatic, oversensitive, and stupid, but I'm constantly feeling like I am being judged and criticized, because I know I don't blend in, not by physical appearance or behavior. I know this because I've seen the people of my town. I'm a fucking alien. My head is so far out of this atmosphere I fit in more with the martians than I do with the kids here (except my real friends that are awesome and save my life on so many levels).
The martians, by the way, want me to tell you all to PLEASE NOT COME NEAR THEM. They've seen the shit you do.

People in Wal-mart scare me. Hell, the building scares me. I've decided halfheartedly that once I'm living independently I'm going to be devoted to avoid Wal-mart as much as humanly possible.

Anyway....

While texting this friend, I mentioned that I could see myself living in Latin America. Then, I noticed he seemed a little tense, which is hard to do over text. I asked him about it, he said he was disappointed, I asked if he was disappointed in me, he said a little bit, I said that if he told me why maybe I could fix it, he said he didn't think so, I said well I can't if I don't know what the fuck is wrong and you don't tell me, and then he did.
He thinks that I'll never be happy, no matter what "setting" I'm in. As in, I won't come to accept my surroundings.

This set off  a few rounds of me arguing like a mother bear on acid and him arguing like he reads only one out of the seven sentences I text. Basically, he was a jerk who made me feel like shit for being friends with him. Then I made bad shopping decisions and every moment with the ancient blouse, skinny jeans, zombie acne, and allergies just brought shit downhill from there. While parked at Wal-mart I sat in the car alone and I saw two friends coming over to the truck across from me. In other circumstances I would've bound up to them like a giddy gazelle but I instead hid under the dashboard. That's how shitty I felt. I sent a text to another friend telling her I couldn't come to her party at 5:30. Then I got home and watched TV for like four hours. And here I am.

I've probably lost you all by now. I don't really care. There's something about posting personal events, feelings, and thoughts onto the internet that makes me feel so much better. *sarcasmmmmm*
I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I just know I'm unhappy in this town. I can't grow here anymore. Once I'm out of high school I can't wait to leave...I just want to live the way I want to. That doesn't mean it's going to be in perfect harmony with the rest of the human race...


You know something? This friend of mine who's a real jerk...I love him to bits...I mean, I've been through a lot with him and because of him. But things change, things that are out of my control. It really sucks, but I think it's almost time to say goodbye for a while.