#factzilla

ahhhhhh I get another <3 <3

uhmmm hrm. OKAYLETSGO:1. I like to buy people random gifts. Strangers, friends, people on the internet. I buy gifts and kinda horde them sometimes until I get a chance to see said person, or send it off. I have a small cacophony of gifts strewn about my room that I need to send out when I get the chance.

2.I really really really hate my feet. Well, they're kinda ugly but not really? Just self conscious about them. So I'm always with socks.

3.ahhhhhhhhhh I hate most of my family. Few exceptions given to my grandma, niece and a very slim handfull of others.

4.uhhhhhhhhhmmmmm.. I'm a 13th level Presidential procrastinator! I will usually and sometimes put off things until the last minute because it's like a training montage and it makes me feel accomplished.

FIVE FACTS ABOUT ME OH JEEZ (though im glad I'm in your top ten <3  Jojobeeee <3)Uhh shit fuck twat tapdancing. 

1. I eat entirely way too much food. And even when I stop eating and say that I'm full, it's usually to be polite and not be that dick making everyone stay later if it's in a group setting.

2. I run. A lot. To counter balance my eating and my slowing metabolism. I try to crank out at least about six miles a day. I don't always end up eating healthy when I do though, which kind of sucks. But I still get some cardio in.

3. I like butts. A lot.

4. Every so often, I'll get the massive urge to go on a baking spree. Sometimes I'll make cakes and pies and delicious things. Sometimes, I'll just want to make muffins or cup cakes. It strikes at the most random time and though I'm not the super best at it, I'm not the super worst. Except when it's sweltering hot and I can't focus. Then I add too much water to things and my cupcakes look like Ditto the pokemon.

got a jerb as a server/waiter in a chinese restaurant, thanks to a friend. With it, I have mastered the art of making Boba Tea and thus have surpassed him and many people. so fist pump for that! I've been working out a lot more. my shifts have been deemed 12-8 so it kind of eats up most of the daylight, but when I get home I often do a quick set of push ups and crunches (usually around 20-35 each, depending) on top of my morning runs. I haven't been eating a lot lately either which is cumbersome, but that's just sort of how I get when i start a new job. don't break, don't eat on it (despite being offered plenty of deliciously delicious food), and I'm a wreck for the first month or so until I get the hang of everything.

if you live in Pittsburgh and want to see a rare commodity of a black man in a chinese restaurant, stop by Orient Express in Oakland and I'll try not to fuck up your orders.

I haven't mastered the art of plate stacking yet. I have no idea how they can carry three plates at a time. it's fuckin' mind bottling. same with water. three cups in one hand? Witchcraft. One day I will learn.

besides the immediate boss people up, who are asians (chinese, specifically), the rest of my coworkers are mexicans. It's given me the drive to re-learn mexican, and also drop learning Japanese in order to learn a bit of chinese so that way there's less of a barrier between me and some of the customers (plus can you imagine their faces when I bust out small conversation at them? Better than Chris Tucker in Rush Hour) so yay self improvement. I'm going to hate my life learning both at the same time.

I wonder if anyone else handles depression like I do. It's a fascinating thing and I'm often curious, so let's go ahead and make another factzilla while I'm at it.

Like most of the world, I usually have something to be depressed about. We're talking, high level suicidal depressed. Wearing all black and stepping out into an unlit neighborhood that's heavy in traffic depressed. I get that. It's awesome. So fun. I think of seven different ways of dying a day and often contemplate mixing medications that I no longer take and alcohol in order to make sure that my insides are completely fucked. Then I think, that's stupid. You're stupid. And I don't want an open casket so I'll make sure to do something horribly atrocious to my face so that way no one will have to see me bukkake'd with makeup and looking like a shiny ass mannequin clown or some type of fucked up dead juggalo. I also entertain the thought of purging neighborhoods, gangs, and certain people for one last hurrah so that way if I get shot down, at least it was for a reason. 

  BUT I digress. My depression is something I've been living with since my chronic insomnia kicked in, and I lost all faith in having any type of normalcy in my life. You get to thinking a lot when you're plagued with no sleep, in the dead silence and pitch black darkness. You learn that you are the monster in the dark, you forgo feelings for a cookie cutter personality so that people won't bother you or wonder why the quiet, african american kid in the corner is so bizarrely smart and has to take different classes, and then you break yourself into different parts so that you don't have to deal with trying to balance normalcy and opt for the easiest way of handling multiple personalities. All of this at the sweet ripe age of seven. Who says girls always mature faster than boys?

To start battling my crippling depression and the burden of splitting my mind into fragments, I stopped getting depressed. I sit it and let it fester, boil over into a ripe ol mess and not think of it for the most part. Depressed thought? Instantly shelved and put away for another day because there is nothing more to drive a person crazy when they have 22 hours of free time to function and only need 2 to sleep.

BUT, you can only ignore stuff for so long before it comes forth, right? Bread gets moldy, milk gets chunky, all that stuff. Same with depression. Instead of trudging around through my days a sad sack of sorrow slime (Alliteration! Woo!), I give it all a stewing point of a month, before I sit down by my lonesome, and take those two hours of sleep I normally take to let it all hit me at once. It is the worst times of my life.

“Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”

We all know the quote. It's Einstein (Or for some, LL Cool J in Deep Blue Sea). That's essentially what I do. For two hours, time slows down like the last day of school before summer break and I sit and wade through all the depression that I've accumulated over the month span and let it wrack me the fuck up which leads to bringing up ever bad memory that I've ever experienced and can remember and boo howdy, it's a doozy of how many I can remember. I get depressed about life, relatives, relationships, things people said, things I think, my life, television, the list is quite endless.

In reality, I like to keep myself sheltered because, for the most part, people knowing how you react to certain things makes them more hesitant to talk to you. It's something my old psychiatrist told me (Now you know I had a psychiatrist before! But this was ages ago) that she would do to help people, and it's probably the only reason I liked her out of the fifteen odd ones I've been through in my life. She said it was something along the lines of not wanting to distract people or let them think too much on what to say about their stance for something, and instead let them unabashedly have diarrhea mouth on what they care for and for what reasons instead of choosing not to say certain things in present company. (ie; rape,  xenophobia, sexuality, you name it.)

It's something I've adopted as my own because when people don't know how you feel about something sometimes, they're usually more willing to talk about it. She's probably the reason I ever got into wanting to listen to people and probably why being a psychiatrist is the only field in the world that I think I could do every day, without wanting to quit. Which is weird because I'm the weirdest fucking mix of an introvert and an extrovert (Ambivert? I forget the exact technical name for it)

I'm sitting here, watching the videos for "Stand Out" and "Eye to Eye" from A Goofy Movie and realizing how I both still know every word for both of these songs, and it's probably the only time I kind of sort of maybe enjoy the way I sing.

I still remember every dance move just about too. This movie impacted the way I lived my life for a good while and still does, actually. It helped me develop as a person, as sad as that may sound? I dunno. I have a lot of memories attached to the songs and movie, both good and bad. Even moreso with a lot of Tevin Campbell's (Powerline's) songs I dunno. I'm kind of having one of those wishy-washy weeks where everything goes all haywire one day and then fantastically awesome but hey, looking on the bright side of all this shit. This movie, it's songs and just.. all of it I suppose, but mostly those two songs are one of the constant things in my life that make me put one foot forward in front of the other.

Doesn't help that my recently passed aunt/cousin is the one who saw how much I loved it when it was on the Disney Channel and bought it for me on VHS and I treasured the shit out of it until we moved and my entire VHS collection was essentially tossed/thrown out.