Category Archives: dramatic diatribes

the devoted dream.

20 Thursday Sep 2012

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i dream…

a lot.

and this doesn’t include the ample amount of time i spend daydreaming either…

these are solid dreams that are carefully assembled and structured together by my dramatically animated subconscious…

that of which works at an intensely vigorous rate.

for the past two years, give or take a few restless nights, i have been subjected to the mental assault of my vivid slumber…

and i cannot help but to wonder if my unconscious mind is subliminally trying to tell me something.

i’m not typically a dream decoding type of person…

i always chalk it up to whether or not i have been thinking about a particular person or circumstance and assume that it just so happened to carry over into my trance-like state.

but that usual thought formulation has currently been debunked since i know that i haven’t…

so then, what gives?

without sounding too ambiguous, this specific “situation” that i am repeatedly dreaming about ad nauseam, has never been one of joy for me…

and although these dreams do not cause me any happiness, they also don’t necessitate being referred to as a nightmare.

but when i awaken each morning and can still fully remember the previous night’s mind fuck, then i can’t help but to find myself being forced to relive each tormenting moment and thus, dissecting every flashback until i am completely engulfed in unanswered questions!

what in the fuck, drowsy brain?!

if there is something that lethargic me is trying to tell lively me, then i seriously need to quit being so cryptic with myself…

until then, kindly get out of my dreams…

and under my car.

the abbrv.

31 Tuesday Jul 2012

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the human race has become lazy!

L-A-Z-Y, lazy.

we no longer want to embark on anything that could potentially take us longer than two minutes…

and i’m not quite certain if that has to do with our being too busy, or if we have simply lost all patience.

regardless of the reasoning, the verifiable truth remains that the majority of us are basically roaming through our lives absolutely comatose and careless…

and i solely blame the texting generation for this.

with the superfluity of abbreviations and acronyms devised to make texting conversations accelerated and effortless, we have lost the true essence and invariable nature of language…

and furthermore, we have managed to replace proper emotions with “emoji’s” and “symbols” produced to conveniently mirror the expressions on our faces.

not to conclude that i am above this handy lifestyle, because to be honest, i will emoji-fuck the shit out of anyone with an iPhone all day and LOL my AO all the way to the Apple Store…

but when i receive a text message, and the word ‘you’ has been shortened to “u”, i begin to question the faith of humankind and the inevitable loss of dialect.

i mean, seriously?!

you abbreviated a three-letter word!

is there anything more half-hearted than seemingly not having the time to type in two extra letters, which by the way, are all directly next to one another on any given keyboard?!

one can only conclude that this person was in the middle of something severely urgent and grandeur which resulted in their having only the slightest few and precious moments to respond, and thus, could not be bothered to write out a whole three-letter word…

that appears to be the only plausible explanation for such a preposterous act.

have we all just become perfunctory usageasters who have been forced to adapt to the death of whole words and full sentences?

and worst of all, who the hell was responsible for slaughtering our gorgeous grammar and pulchritudinous punctuation?

ugh.

idk…

gtg.

ttyl…

the damsel in stress.

17 Tuesday Jul 2012

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i am at my most vulnerable when the “check engine” light comes on in my car.

i suddenly feel the urge to call up every guy i know and ask if they can telepathically tell me what is wrong with my vehicle…

and even though it almost always means that it’s time for my oil change, it’s kind of comforting knowing that i can pull out my girly card and become the damsel in distress.

being a girl has some perks…

sometimes.

sure, we get the shitty part of the gender deal what with all of the periods and cramps and birthing bits that we have to tolerate…

but for the most part, i don’t think i would choose being male over female.

and let’s be realistic here, nowadays you most certainly have that as an option…

nonetheless, there are a number of things that frustrate me about the assumptions that guys make about girls:

  • do not presume that simply because i am moody or have an angry disposition, that it is “that time of the month”…

there are millions of other factors that could be the cause of that, and maybe, just maybe, one of them is that moronic fucking statement that boys love to so easily blame it on.

  • just because i am fully capable of opening the car door for myself, it doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t be a nice gesture if you went out of your way to do it for me instead…

who in the fuck killed chivalry and why didn’t anybody try to revive it?

  • do not presume that all girls are whores who are looking to hook up with any guy that gives them the teensiest bit of attention…

being flirty and being friendly are actually two different things, so when we’re just being polite, it’s probably best that you don’t think we’re just being prostitutes.

  • just because i am coming to you with a problem, it doesn’t necessarily mean that i need you to solve it…

sometimes, it’s just nice to have someone to vent to that will simply listen and be mute.

naturally, this list can overflow as could the ‘what girls do to irk guys’ one, but i’m sure those topics have also been exhausted ad nauseam.

needless to say, i may not always need a hero…

but i wouldn’t mind having someone to save the day, once in a while.

the birthday wish.

05 Thursday Apr 2012

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on April 15th, i will be turning 28…

and as wonderful as i usually make my birthday out to be, i can’t exactly say if it is something that i am looking forward to this time around.

typically, i do a yearly recap of my previous age in order to see what i have accomplished and how i can improve the following year…

but reflecting right now doesn’t seem so appeasing.

don’t get me wrong…

i do have a lot going for me.

and i am in no way complaining about my life, because it is pretty satisfying…

but where i envisioned myself at this age is most definitely not where i am…

and being simply “satisfied” is not something that i strive to settle for.

growing up, i imagined that by my late-20’s i would be a somebody:

a somebody with a dazzling something job, living in an amazing somewhere with an incredible someone and a beautifully charming family of my own…

but i’m not there yet.

and currently looking at my calendar, i’m not even close!

(of course i also thought that i would be a renowned movie star who doubled as an insanely perfect singer…)

nonetheless, how is it that at such a young age i was so certain of where i would be…

and now that i’m actually here, i’m not?

is it safe to assume that the plans that i had when i was younger were merely a figment of my colorful imagination?

and as unsure as i sound, am i really going to be okay with it?

i am definitely not one to coincide a person’s age with whether or not they should be married…

or how long before it’s too long to have children…

and my stance on that matter has yet to change.

therefore, i believe that maybe my biggest botheration is with where i am at (or really, am not) in my desired career…

so seeing as how i get to make one truly ideal wish, i am publicly wishing to become a famous writer for a deliciously fabulous magazine.

and even though you are technically not supposed to tell people what you wished for, for fear that it won’t come true; i’m trying a few things differently in this 28th year of my life…

so happy birthday month, Shekardaneh…

and here’s to countless more.

cheers!

the dagger edged tongue.

21 Wednesday Mar 2012

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there are certain ways that i just refuse be spoken to.

i don’t give a fuck who you think you are, but there is a level of reverence that i demand and that does that not automatically make me a bitch because of it…

it makes me assertive.

it makes me self-respected.

it makes me a fucking human being.

i don’t talk down to people…

i don’t entirely see the point in it.

no matter how goddamn low someone stoops, i would rather bite my tongue till it bleeds than to take off my five-inch heels and bring myself down to their level.

of course, i am not claiming to be an angel…

i have a defiantly sharp tongue and an even quicker wit, so if someone does make the ultimate mistake of crossing that line with me, i will unequivocally cut them down to size…

but only if the situation absolutely requires it.

which fortunately (for the other party) has not been the case in quite some time…

so where do other people get off thinking that it is okay…

or even worse, acceptable to do so?!

have there not been enough instances in which situations that seemingly started out as a simple argument have gone horribly awry, and ended inexplicably frighteningly?

i mean honestly, is it that imperative to cause a scene and raise your blood pressure in order to get your point across?

when was the last time that doing that brought about a positive outcome?

therefore, we should all make a conscious effort to calm the fuck down…

to think before we open our dumb fucking mouths and say something that we will undoubtedly fucking regret…

otherwise mother fucker, I WILL END YOU!

serenity now…

the mentally unfit.

03 Friday Feb 2012

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i’m upset.

no, scratch that…

i’m fucking angry!

disgusted…

unbelievably appalled!

i have done nothing more this week than forcefully read stories upon stories in the news about the multitude of sick and demented perverts lurking within school premises and sexually abusing children.

i say “forcefully” because there has yet to be a day where it’s not popping up the minute i click onto a news website…

or being posted on one of the social networks i frequent…

or being pushed into conversation by the hypothetical water cooler among my coworkers…

and i am absolutely sick to my stomach from it!

how do these dick-holes get hired for a position where they are not only permitted to deal and associate with minors, but are actually allowed to be left alone with them for hours on end?

who enlists them?

who screens them?

who evaluates them?

i have never understood the attraction that these insanely dysfunctional individuals have with committing these truly horrific and life altering acts, nor do i ever want to be able to process a thought like that…

so how do these supervisors/teachers/whomever it may be, concede that taking away the innocence of an adolescent (whose family and who they themselves have placed their trust in), is correct/just/legitimate?

what kind of mentally incompetent entity would not find that exposing a kid to any part of their anatomy or genitalia is not only inappropriate, but completely and utterly deranged?

HOW DARE YOU?

HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!

something needs to be done right now.

someone needs to psychologically analyze every potential new hire.

somebody needs to implement a grueling and extensive background check.

these examinations should be more mandatory than a drug test!

because even that first time was one time too many…

les protéger.