Take Me as I am

In all fairness to this seemingly horrible day, it wasn't that bad. Spanish, we are learning about indirect and direct object. I can barely making it through english in the grammar department yet alone Spanish. Then was Chemistry where instead of listening i drew a cartoon in my lecture book, i need to get a scanner, it was quite pretty. Then....Bio Lab. Things went by smoothly and we were out.

Well...Mike( i know, i know...but we are lab partners) wanted to get some food, we were going to the same area and decided to have lunch(well he ate) and then go to the bookstore. I think it's pretentious to always have these indepth about life, and yadda yadda yadda. We spend so much time, being consumed by the struggles of life, that we watch it pass us by as we are droning on about...I don't know politics.

It was like an episode of Geraldo or something. I was being grilled on what i thought of things. Somehow he got on the topic of Beliefs, and that belief is a fundamental concept that people have that gets them through life. This arose from a conversation of how much of our brain we actually used. I said about 5%, he said about 10%, and then i said that i didn't believe people could move things with their minds. I mean i belive in ghost, and the afterlife, and psychics to a point. But moving things with my mind, a little far fetch. Then he said that the reason that i couldn't move things with my mind is because i don't believe that i can. WHAT?.

I can't move things with my mind, it's impossible for me Beckett Amelia Hughes to move something with my mind, whether i believed it or not. I can't do. Point blank.

Belief: an accepted opinion, think, that act of believing.

i didn't know how much i hated that word(which i will probably use a bunch of times in this entry) until that whole stupid conversation came up. I believe in faith, that people possess faith in themselves that carry them through sitauation they didn't BELIVE they could overcome. To me belief arises from doubt. So doubt is what drives people. And doubt is what we overcome, not belief in which we accept. Confusing i know

This got him questioning my opinion on the subject because i am not religous.

Me: what does that have to do with anything
Mike: well you are an atheist.
Me: I'm not an atheist...
Mike: Well an agnostic
Me: i don't even think i'm that. I'm just living dude. I'm going to be a good person regardless if i have a religon.

Apparently i can't have faith, because i don't have a religion. I have complete faith in myself and the people i love, thats all i need to get me through this crazy place.
Mike: But agnostic can't have faith
Me: whatever, i just don't choose to live by a religion. This is who i am, take me as i am, faults and all or not at all. Thats all i need for my life

I mean i know he's an idiot, but a idiot who then calls me an "ignorant" person, because i said that we have it a lot better then most people, and i'm not going to get all "I'm emo and depressed because some stupid girl broke up with me".

Mike has a crush. A love, as he calls, drones on about, it. Her name is Christie and he wrote his English paper about her. Now though i talk about my crush for Art Boy in the journal, i don't discuss it with Mike. Or anybody for that matter of fact. I was once watching a show on Mtv and this was girl was talking about her crush and she said that when she has a crush on someone it is like this small delicate thing, that you want to cherish and keep all to yourself so it can't be damage. Well thats how i think, and thats why i don't talk about it. He talks about it like its the only thing he lives for. He came to class with scratches on his arm, saying that he was upset about a girl and cut himself.

So when i mention that we have it good here and that there are so many things worse off then we could ever imagine and sometimes the things we pine about so trivial in the face of the horror that people live through elsewhere. He called me ignorant, because America has it's problems to, and that i don't see that.

I am far from ignorant. And thus in my next expletives of ranting and raving told him:

WARNING: The following statements contain curse words, and the other grim aspect of life. Kiddies stop reading. Adults enjoy.

Me: Don't you dare call me ignorant. I grew up in fucking New York. I have seen things be bad and then become worse. I have seen death and desperation, i have been faced with loss , i have been a victim and a survivor. You want to talk about the homeless, drive in the neighborhood i was born in and you will see some fucking homeless people. My mom has been robbed twice, my brother and i picked up bullet shells in my dads neighborhood as a pasttime. I don't live in a fucking bubble, i don't have a porsche or an IPod. I come from hardship and have somehow survived. I know peoplewho will be in jail for a long time, i have known people who have been murdered, hooked on drugs, died from AIDS. I know how bad things are here, so don't say i'm ignorant just because i don't choose to talk these things. Just because it doesn't fucking define who i am doesn't mean i don't feel the effects from it. so the last person you should be calling ignorant is me. The last person.

Mike: [speechless]

I was very proud of myself.

I wasn't going to let that comment slide by. Especially by someone who is a douche. Someone who is going to home to his big house, and nice car, and all that other crap. Now i'm not saying that materalistic things make people happy, mainly because i don't have anything, but i don't walk about talking about my car and how rich and i, but then later talk about how this girl made me cut my wrist.

My mom didn't by us presents to show us love, she made us to go the park and play baseball, and read books, paint, and draw, and examine the stars. Other people make me sad, but sometimes i am completely content. And it's because i know how to enjoy those things, unlike him...who whins about him not having anyone to hang out with on the weekend, but that he has a 100 friends he knows by name and would trust with his life. Mike is a joke, to himself and the world. He hides behind critizing other people for self validation. It's because he has no idea who he is...he is one big facade, and underneath you would find a small boy asking to be loved, searching for it in all the wrong places.

So then we got on the subject of his crush. Christie. The girl i think he cut his wrist for. The girl he wrote his english paper for. So yesterday, the professor mentioned that some concepts of our papers were...blah. It's a natural things for people to want to write about love, because for some reason at this stage of our lives we feel we have a grasp on it. That it will be like the movies, roses, and sunny, and birds chirping. i don't know what love is, other than that from family and friends, so i kind of refraim from talking about it in papers. I have been in like with someone, and even with Art boy, it is just like, love seems to be such a huge thing that i don't know if i could put it in words. Apparently someone wrote a paper that was about how much he/she loved their boy/girl friend and made it seem like love was this easy simple thing.

Professor: i'm sorry to tell all of you,but love isn't that black and white. It takes so much to maintain love, it's hard work and it's not like the movies. It's real.

So when Mike told me he wrote about his crush, and using "such greeat heights" by postal service for his reader response essay, i smiled inside because i knew professor must have thought it was stupid and contrite. Though i love postal service, that is probably the last song i would have picked. He says Love makes me him feel good, like he can conquer the world. He likes being in love b/c of that. People are in love with the concept of love, and though it is nice, it's nerve racking.(which is why i posted Inara George "fools in love" below). I don't want to have these preconcieved notions of what love is. I want to be completely open and unbiased towards it, so when it happens, i will be ready to just accpet whomevers love i choose to be with. Not this biased idea of it being like the movies, life and love isn't like that.

Which sucks because am a complete romantic, and i hate that about me. That i am unrealistic about love, but i know enough about it that though it's lovely, it takes work. Maybe thats what makes it beautiful. Those small things about it, that don't happen every day, but when they do happen, you realize why you love it so much. Like brushing the hair out of my face, their laughter that brings smiles to our face, and other such quirks.

Lately i have been having embarassing dreams of a boy who isn't art boy. He's some kid in my Bio Lab who sings me Jimmy Buffet songs, when we have an off time in that class. Maybe because he unthreatening and harmless, i keep having this dreams of us dating, its weird cause i don't feel anything for him. So needless to say, i can't even look him in the eyes when we are talkinng because i'm like "in my dream we were totally making out".

I had about three with him in it. and the one i remember the most is were are like owners of this art gallery, and there are some men downstairs who are trying to sell us a fake picasso or something. About 5 of us own this gallery so while the three of them deal with these men who are trying to rip us off, Justin asks me to go up stairs with him(apparently we live in the art gallery also), so we are sitting on his bed and i ask him whats up, he pulls out this box and in it are all these cards, and scraps os paper. He pulls out a few cards and reminds me about the night that we played cards at his house and that i beat him with this hand(of cards) and that ever since he has kept these cards and other small things of mine in this box, because he's completely in love with me. So much that he can't think of anything else, then he starts listing all these things about me that he completely loves. My heart is racing, and i feel like i'm going to faint. Then i start crying, because he says that these little things about me make me more beautiful everyday and that he doens't think he could ever forgive himself if he never told me that he loved me. And then, bam he kisses me. like this is the last day on earth or something. I woke up, out of breath it was so intense....So after that. I tell him i don't kow what to do, that i think this means we are dating now or something. But that we need to talk more after we get these three men out of the store. When we head downstairs we hear a struggle going on. This men were not dealers, but are trying to take our prized picture. As i head to see what is going on, one of the guys corners me and you hear Justin yell my name from the other side of the room, and then i wake up.

So needless to say when i saw him today, him being all jubilant and his ever friendly self, i was like
Me:[eyes to floor] Hey justin.
I was kind of embarassed.

I mean i don't think the dream is about Me and Justin at all. I think it's more about accepting the things people accept about me,and then i will be open to relationships. I am a little hard on myself, and i kind of forget that i am this...interesting person. This is me....all of it....crazy...and sad, sometimes funny, quiet, delicate but not broken person...and until i fully appreciate that i can't really expect anyone to see that in me. Though why it had to be Justin, is up for debate.

Tomorrow i have to be on set at 8 in the morning. Not looking forward to that. Hope they know i am not staying that long. I've got sleep to do. Well...not...to dream about....Justin...just because this week was rough, and i'm tired