I’ve slept here three nights now. That’s the simplest way of counting. Floor is still hard, but now the outlets don’t work. Both my cats are pissed off and left me with at least 20 new scratches today alone. I had to scruff Sage because he started verbally threatening me because he didn’t want to scratch me. My mom is pissing me off more by the second. These scratches burn. The wifi went down and I can’t read anymore. The bathrooms are out of toilet paper. My pillow has less than half the pretzels left in it. MREs should not have mints. Mints can’t hold up to shit. They just end up melted all over everything making everything stick to itself and you. The wall is leaking. Interesting thing for a shelter to have happen. The guy on the inflatable bed over there is a drug addict or just can’t cope with life. When he first came in he had this big tumbler of lean. And when he woke up just now I saw a cannabis cartridge and vape battery. He hasn’t even been here a full two days and I don’t think he’s been sober for any of it. I don’t wanna be sober for any of it either though so I’m not judging him. I feel so lethargic. I should probably wash these cuts out..
So I’ve started working out again. I forgot how much that makes even not moving hurt. But this time I’m serious about working out. My job is really all about speed so my legs are gonna be great no matter what. But I can’t just have Captain America legs and pre-spider Peter Parker upper body. So I’ve gotta balance myself out or something. Also exercise seems to I guess keep my chemicals in check and I’m slightly happier on days I actually have.
So I decided to take some photos so I could compare later on or make a slideshow type thing so I could actually see if I’m making any type of improvements to my body or if it’s all in my head. But then after editing the pictures so they didn’t have any type of chest showing I realized I look horribly unattractive with my shirt off.
So I’ve decided that every day I’m gonna set three 20 minute timers
20 minutes of push ups
20 minutes of sit ups
20 minutes of the horse stance
I know that I’m not going to be able to last doing any of those things for 20 minutes non stop right away. But those are my goals. If I work hard every day eventually I’ll be able to do each one for 20 minutes every day. Maybe that’ll be the day I’ll be comfortable enough to look in the mirror with my shirt off and be like yes, I did that. With my hard work I gave myself a body I could be proud of.
Because as Tang Tian says, “Sweat doesn’t lie.”
So I will sweat, and I will persistently perspire until I reach the point where I have enough confidence to.. Do stuff.
I know this might be my most straightforward post so far so let me get my usual ramble in. It’s really hard to look someone in the eye when you’re constantly thinking that they’re thinking damn that persons ugly while they look at you. Because most of the time that’s what I think to my reflection. Except on those few good days where I’m like maybe I’m not so bad?
I’m really sore. But I’m glad I’m sore, because that means I’m trying.
‘Hm.. That’s a strange shadow. Sorta looks like a person.’
I look on top the building, and see a girl standing on the edge. She looks upset. I might as well go up and check it out.
The door isn’t locked. I climb up 8 flights of stairs. I’m breathing kinda hard by the time I reach the top. The door to the roof is clearly marked so I go through it. The door creaks and the girl turns around.
“DON’T! DONT COME ANY CLOSER!” She yells at me.
I furrow my brow. “Why not? Whether I go over there or not has no impact on if you jump. Does it?”
She frowns. I walk over to the ledge and sit down about two feet from her.
“Why are you here?” She asks.
“I was walking by. Felt like coming to see what you were doing. There’s a pretty good view of the city from here.”
She considers kicking me. I can see it on her face. I look back at the skyline of the city.
“Are you gonna try and talk me down?”
“Do you want to be talked down?” I respond. I still don’t look at her.
Out the corner of my eye I see droplets falling over the edge. Either it’s raining, or she’s crying. Probably crying. I still don’t look at her.
“Yes. No. I don’t know what I want anymore.”
I glance at her. Shes looking at me and has tear stains going down her cheeks.I reach in my pocket and hand her a tissue I grabbed on the off chance I’d need it in a Wendy’s earlier.
“Have a seat. All that standing probably made you tired.”
She sits down wiping her face not even realizing she stopped standing on the edge.
“Can I ask you something?” She says. I nod and look at the cars driving in the distance. “Do you think I’m pretty?” I look at her. I really look at her. The curve of her jaw, the shape of the arch of her eyebrows, the color of her blue-green eyes and the will to live that’s gone out of them. Her salmon colored lips and dark orange hair. The splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose on her slightly tanned skin. She’s pretty. She’s not gonna stop traffic but I like the way she looks.
She waits as I study her. And the longer I look the more she starts to fidget. When she breaks eye contact I look back at the cars.
“What does my opinion matter to you. I’m a stranger. For all you know, I could be gay.”
Based on the look on her face I can tell she was not expecting that answer.
“Are you gay?”
I shake my head. “Then do you think I’m pretty?” She asks again.
I make direct eye contact. “I think you’re pretty. I think you’re really pretty. Personally you’re my ideal woman. If in looks only. But looks aren’t everything. Were you on the edge because someone called you ugly?”
She’s beet red. “No. I’m not that petty. I was on the edge because I’m alone. My family is dead, my friends don’t ever want to hang out with me and my last boyfriend killed himself.”
I look at her again. She looks at me.
“That’s why you want to die?”
She looks down. “I don’t want to die. I just don’t know, if I want to live.”
I realize I’m sweating. And then I realize that some of what I thought was her blushing was also flushing from the heat.
“Do you wanna go get a smoothie or something? Its pretty hot up here.”
She looks at me like I’m an idiot. I look at her calmly and wipe my forehead with the back of my hand. She keeps looking at me. I break eye contact but I can still feel her staring. “Okay.. Maybe it was a bad idea.”
She comes closer to me. She puts one hand on my shoulder and holds my chin with the other. She tilts my head this way and that then sits back to look at me some more.
“…are you transgender?”
Okay. Obviously I wasn’t passing as well as I thought. But I nod. She stands up and extends a hand toward me. “I’m buying” she says.
I’m very, very confused right now. What the hell just happened? I follow behind her. I’m about three inches taller than her. I take this chance to.. Take in her figure. It’s not a bad one. I don’t look for more than two seconds. I’m not a creep I swear.
We get to the first floor and go out. About two blocks away is a smoothie shop. We walk the two blocks in silence stealing glances at each other when we think the other isn’t looking. I got pretty quiet after I realized I wasn’t passing as well. Keeping my head sort of down and not looking at strangers. Not talking.
“Are you okay?” She asks me outside the smoothie shop. I open the door for her and nod while shrugging. Like ‘yeah of course’.
We order smoothies. Hers is pink and mine is a sort of light purple. She pays literally slapping my hand away when I tried. The cashier got a kick out of that and then we sat in a corner booth.
“Whats your name?” I ask. She looks at me with a crooked grin.
“Only took you forever to ask. You can call me Angel.” She says.
I feel like that’s not her name but nod. “Jason.” I say and reach out my hand to shake hers. She scoffs and sips her smoothie leaving me there awkwardly with an outstretched hand. I look down and sip my smoothie with that hand now under the table. I feel her staring at me again. But this time I don’t mind as much. I look up and defiantly stare back. She scoots over to my side of the bench. I sip my smoothie again and pretend to ignore her. She reaches her hand under the bottom of my shirt. I feel my heartbeat quicken because I don’t know what she’s going to do.
Why am I able to feel feelings for you, in this way, when no matter what I do, you’ll never love me back?
If I could control my emotions, I’d take my heart off my sleeve and put it in a lock box three feet under the sandbox. Nobody ever gets that far trying to dig to China, so it should be safe there.
I view you as perfect, amazing, everything I’ve ever wanted and more.
I know you’re not perfect, and in many ways not amazing. But that doesn’t matter. Because
My emotions act as a filter. I’m always thinking with either my heart or my head. I can never think with both, but I can contrast the two.. If I tell you how I feel, what would it change? I know nothing would change. I settle for the way things are now, but I’m not happy with them.
I’m always here, and you always come back to me. For support, or a shoulder to cry on, or simply as a pair of arms to comfort you. But somehow.. When I need the same you’re not there. But that’s okay. I’ll continue to be there for you. Patiently, unfairly waiting for the day you notice I’ve been here all along. Living by your site. Loving you, and your flaws openly. But none of that matters to you, and it doesn’t matter now. Because you just got your heart broken again.. And came back to me for a hug.
Behind every anime.. There is a manga. Behind some mangas, there is a wuxia novel or chinese light novel.
Anime is the vision, lacking in detail but full of color.
Manga is the stepping stone. More detailed than any anime, but also just a visual.
Then there’s the Chinese light novel. Which, is anything but light. The shortest one I’ve ever read was 200+ chapters. Light novels can be light, like Harry Potter book one light, or ‘light’ like Harry Potter book one through the last book J.K. Rowling’s author grandchildren writes.
You might think this is in exaggeration, but there are some wuxia novels, that have 800+ chapters. I’ve read two of them.
I used to think manga, and normal novels and comics were all that that was out there even worth getting interested in. Then I was introduced to the light novel.
No other kind of story, book series, TV show, movie, or any other form of expression has ever touched me so deeply.
I have never before, lived, and died with a character. Felt their pain, been so scared for them, excited for them, happy and completely pissed off with them. But when I read my first light novel.. I had to read more.
I started off with Re: Monster. It was great, and it even had some pages of the manga in it after the chapter just so you could get a visual. But it was so long, and I was so young (16) that I couldn’t finish it. Recently I found the manga for it. I was hugely disappointed.. In only finding barely more than 20 chapters. I was past chapter 600 and will probably have to start all over.
But I’m okay with that. Because these are the kinds of novels that you read for life.. And I don’t mean that they are so long you’re reading one forever. I mean they’re the kind of thing that you want to come back to.
Here are some of the sites I use if you want to give them a try. They are in English, and they update with new chapters all the time. Maybe pick one that’s ongoing, you’ll have something to look forward to every couple days.
Just make sure to use your imagination going forward.
Have you ever thought how maybe,
We’re all wasting our time?
Born to live to die and to die we bring pain.
Every new life
Nothing makes it better
It’s always getting worse.
Society is corrupted
Politics are poison
Whores are the honest ones
They don’t lie about it, but still go to
Where all ones faults are on display.
Secrets and lies don’t matter there
You’re doing your time
For being yourself.
Born to live and to live to die,
Its the never ending circle
The snake eating its own tail
The face of the clock
Picture: Venom, based on the poem Hm.
Artist: Blaine P.
Author: Blaine P.
When I was 14 and naïve. Probably wasn’t even a real engagement I didn’t give her a ring.. And she dumped me because she considered herself straight. We never even met. She was an admin on an anime page on Google+ then I ended up being an admin there too then starting my own page because the guy in charge was mean. Either way I fell in love and got heartbroken to the point that people who I wasn’t friends with, but was friendly with started getting worried about me.
I don’t even know if I believe in marriage anymore. My dad asked my mom to marry him when I was in like first grade. Then in third grade they had my brother. Then in fourth grade my dad moved into another room. In sixth grade he moved out and turned off everything in the house, power, water and stopped paying mortgage. We literally had less then a week to find someplace. We were homeless overnight and ended up moving into my grandmothers house. Then when I was in the seventh grade, he told me he was dating his best friend. I told him you’re a grown man do what you want. When I was in eigth grade he came down and showed me wedding pictures.
Thanks for the invite that I didn’t get. Or the notification of your marriage or even engagement.
But right before he told me he was dating his best friend, (which by the way he was with for a long time before because when I was really little he introduced her to me as his “best friend”) he came down to my grandmother’s house to live here because he ran out of money and had nowhere to go. Ironic right, but they let him stay. In my room making me move into a room with my mother and brother. Then when he left after a long time, I wasn’t allowed back into my room because of some bs reason that my grandmother came up with: I don’t clean. How and why am I supposed to keep a room for three people clean on my own. Then the reason changed to when my aunt comes in the morning she needs someplace to stay.
My aunt, has a husband and a house of her own. She has her own place to stay. Not to mention, she comes for breakfast drops her kids to school and then hangs out in my grandmother’s room. Nobody ever goes into the room and it just collects dust.
Then I was told if I can keep the room clean I’ll get it back. Obviously I’m never getting that room back. Not that I expected to, my grandma is more full of it than a bag of manure. If I went on to talk about the stupidity I have to deal with daily from the people in this house and family nobody would ever hear the end of it.
One day I’ll get past all this and make myself happy.