The Sin of Fear

I live in my own little world. Everyone does. Everyone, at least I think, have the capability to do what I have done. To make nothing outside of what I want to believe exist. Everything to me is like a story, where the main character is the one who influences everything, that they have extreme and ultimate control over all. I guess you could say I have something of underdeveloped empathy. Its hard for me to see out side of my small sad little world. And often times I confuse the hell out of people because I talk like they will know exactly what I mean. And when they don't I get very flustered. And defeated. In fact I get this way about almost anything that doesn't go my way. I'm a perfectionist, in everything I do.

And I can feel the fear rise up in my throat, like bile. Because I'm not sure that anyone can make any sense out of what I'm trying to say. I'm trying to lay out my sins for all the world to see. If it pleases them. I'm not evil, but I am ignorant. I sit here in my world and I shut everything out because I am afraid. I am afraid of failing. I'd rather whine about all I don't have because I am too afraid to fight it. I'd rather spread my poisonous words across the universe. I am making myself miserable.

I'm always trying to avoid the world. Yet I'm wickedly jealous. But I'm so anxious that I fuck it all up. And like some sick washing machine the cycle starts all over again.

All because I am so sensitive. Everything bugs me. One little thing can ruin a whole day. I fixate, I focus, and I hurt. All because of fear.

I remember I time before I knew fear, I remember what put this fear into me. And I don't know how to deal with it because to me the reaction is anger.

Fear and Anger. My two sins.

I'm so angry because I try so hard and it isn't working. I lost friends for no good reason. I look around and I realize I've become far too successful at shutting myself off from this world. I don't know how to connect with people. And I am far too self centered. And I make myself sick. I've put myself in a cage because of fear. And every day I make this cage more secure because every day brings a new reason to fear.

I am the only one with the key. I can set myself free. And sometimes I do. But I need to step out of my cage once and for all. Using this key, there is no universal truth. What is true to me may or may not be true to me. I must respect that your truth is different than mine, even if you don't respect my truth. Each life has value. I will respect that person's opinion. Even if it angers me. Because that opinion has no effect on me unless I choose to let it.

Materialism and Memory

I didn't realize how attached I was to my things until I seriously started getting rid of stuff. I've always been something of a packrat. I blame it on my creativity, I see uses for things, everything. And I always think that I will get to it eventually. I also have a nearly photographic memory. So almost everything in my room has a memory behind it. This makes cleaning difficult to say the least. Even the pages of books hold memories for me. Hell even something that doesn't have any waking memory connected to it can awaken memories of dreams.

But what I can't remember is ideas, goals, dates, the important things! This is very frustrating seeing as I can remember almost everything else. So I've written down the two things I'm allowed an excess of, and my Four goals for the year.

My two allowances of excess:
Books and Craft/Art supplies.

My Four goals:
Keep a Schedule- I've written up an extensive weekly routine and I intend to keep it.
Be Mindful- This is my way of trying to make myself a better buddhist, and a better person.
Keep Organized- I need to really get my life in order and I want to keep working at it.
Be Confident!- I'm not the most confident person. I feel the need to change that.

Reverse Racism- A rant

Calling me a wasp is like assuming that because you're black you are all from the same tribe. Yes I am white, no I am not english in anyway shape or form. I am nordic and germanic. I am from sweden, denmark, norway, poland and germany. Yes I am white, yes I look like a typical white girl should look. Yes I am from the north shore, yes I am privileged, but for all of my parents money(which honestly is due to good spending habits more than anything else) we still might get screwed over. The government might take away my parents retirement money, along with many other teachers. So tell me how I am so much better off again?

My grandparents lived through the great depression. My grandfather lived in an orphanage because his parents couldn't take care of him and his siblings. His father was a drunk who ended up dying in a transient hotel probably from some long term effects of drinking... My grandfather and his wife used to have to scrape together breakfast for dinner to feed their kids because they didn't have enough money to buy enough food. So much for northsiders being rich, by the way this was in the 50s and 60s. Hell my great grandmother bullied my grandmother for speaking swedish funny because they were from two different parts of sweden. My grandma was from the less sophisticated north while my great grandma was from the south. My great aunt ended up having a shot gun wedding, and my other great aunt can't tell you who the father of two of her children is. My uncle has had three different wives and refused to come to his mothers funeral, because of his dogs. My other uncle is probably autistic and was born in the 50s, his parents were told that they should give him up and send him to an institution, but they made the brave choice to raise him themselves.

We've got a long history of being screw ups and making mistakes in my family. We aren't the best. But these are my people. I'm not proud of being Caucasian, I'm not proud of what my white family has done to others. But honestly stop assuming things just because I'm white. I am proud of my family, I am proud of my people. Just like you should have pride for yours. I don't pretend know more about your culture or your people than I do. I admit when I'm wrong and I back off. Yes my family has been privileged because we are white, but don't try and act like you know about me or my culture because my skin color fits that of the mass media.

All this because I offered to brush your hair when it was a mess. Guess what sister, I get random curled up knots in my hair too. My hair gets all matted frizzy and a mess when I roll out of bed too. I offered to help, I'm sorry that you found my offer pushy and insensitive. I treat you like I would like to be treated, and honestly if I treated you the way you treat me I would be one hell of a bitch. Yes I like making myself and others look pretty, but not by conforming to the medias idea of beauty. I want to take your image of yourself and help you make it the best possible looking image, sort of like a editor does for a writer. I believe in giving women the tools to make themselves "beautiful" if they don't want to make the effort thats fine. I will not judge them for it, but I strongly strongly believe in giving them the tools to do so if they wish to.

So go ahead and call me a white colonist. Make fun of me for quoting history and saying that all our colonizing attempts kind of failed(See vineland and greenland, iceland I don't know enough about). Miss quote me and make me sound like an idiot for saying that we left vineland because the indians were lactose intolerant and we gave them milk, it made them sick they got angry and chased us off.

In the end, yeah but you're white isn't any better of an excuse than yeah but you're black.

Barfing

I have some sort of nasty bug. With symptoms ranging from nausea always sleepy to headaches.  Its fun. Needless to say I've stayed home from class today. And here it comes, the emotional throw up. Because mood swings are like barfing.

You can feel it coming, you try to stop it. And then there you are puking all over something you ought not to be puking. You tried to stop. You tried to find a way to deal with it appropriately. But nope Your puking.

This is how my current roommate makes me feel. I also feel terrible for blogging about how much she is driving me up the wall but I've got very few people to vent to. The real question is when I want somebody to shut the fuck up and stop judging the entire world! Last monday do you know what she did? She sat and looked at peoples funny looking dicks on craigs list with her boyfriend. For their anniversary.

Now this wouldn't be a problem if I could send them to his room... which just so happens to be thousands of miles away in texas. So I'm stuck. Listening to them judge then entire world and its brother, every night, since august, with rare breaks.

So I try to go hide in the lounge, which also happens to be colder than my room, then it gets invaded by people playing pokemon. They did invite me, but you see I had a very deprived childhood and wasn't allowed to play. At all. So I have no basis for it and feel like a poser trying to play. And now I'm back in my room. Watching bones. Trying to get ready for bed

I'm turning into my mother?

So for those of you that don't know, my mom is sort of a hippy lite. At least she was, she has turned into more of a suburb mom now. But like all mother-daughter relationships ours has had some strain. But today after reading my addiction, The Offbeat Empire, I figured out one of my life goals. To live in a commune.

I've always had a deep spiritual connection to nature. Though not in 100 degree weather mind you. Some of my favorite memories are of the vacations we had out in the woods. Just the personal moments I had alone and at peace with it all out in the woods, those are some of the best memories.

I like how my roommate puts it, "You want to live in a fucking cul de sac, that is what you want to live in."   She teases me because I am from the most suburby suburb ever. She probably thinks I wont survive in the woods. Or around other people. She might be right.

I wont let this stop me though. I wont let anything stop me. Cause I am just that damn awesome. Oh me and my propensity for tenaciousness. I honestly think this is one of my better qualities. I digress, yet isn't that what this blog is for? My digressions into my head. A way to speak my mind and let it be heard all over if people so choose?

I just want to connect with people. I so deeply desire that connection that I perceive others having. It is something that I chase after with all of my natural craziness and sometimes comes back to bite me in the butt. But I am hoping that eventually living in a comune might help.

Steel

I once had someone describe me as steel, so many different conflicting aspects, so many different shapes I could take, so many different things I could do. All of them beautiful, all of them important.

At the time I was only looking for flattery. It has almost been a year since he said those words to me, but I don't think they have every rung more true. He saw what I couldn't see, he saw who I could be. He asked if he could be my tempering flame, I'm not sure he knows how true that term has become for our relationship. Maybe that was his intent, because through all the years he has been behind me pushing me to be more. Pushing me to take one more step, to become somebody that I could be proud of.

Yet I can't share this with barely anyone. They tell me I'm reading too much into it. That life isn't a fairy tale. That I've got my head in the clouds. That I need to be realistic. I need to move on. I hear it all the time, and yes maybe I do share my feelings, my insecurities, my pain, my sorrow, my joy, my worries, my hopes, my dreams, about him too much. There is so much more to me than him, but I feel like the only person that really understands that is him.

All these people that tell me to be more realistic, they don't accept my other dreams either. They tell me I cannot go to Italy. They tell me that I'm crazy for trying to be a writer. That I shouldn't joke the way I do. That I shouldn't adhere to any one religion because no religion is going to fit perfectly. They tell me I'm stupid for believing that there is some kind of magic out there.

For some reason I call these people my friends.

And yes they do have some good points. But then they turn around and say I should be more accepting of others? And yes they are right about that, but at the same time they are wrong. None of these people want to accept me for who I am, why the hell should I spend time with them? I can accept them sure, but spend time with them, are you insane? 

Maybe it is because I always see and hear the negative first, I keep those things close to me because that is all I have ever known. I'm fighting that, I'm working every day at a tangible change. I am doing everything I can to temper myself into steel, to become something better than I was. And I have come so far from where I was, I've had the summer to sit on my own and really be unaffected by others. Now that I'm back at school I feel trapped.

I feel like I'm in a cage.

I do not always know how to act and react. How to communicate my feelings at the appropriate times in the appropriate ways. I feel trapped because he is there watching me, and I do not want to mistake. I feel like the spotlight is on me, like I cannot move because I am blinded by the light he is shining on me. I feel like I can't be myself because I'm always on display and I always have to be perfect. If I screw up in one small way I could ruin what I want, inadvertently. I feel my prison getting tighter as I realize that there is no good way for me to tell him how this is bothering me. I feel frantic and stuck because there is nothing I can do and it isn't fair to me. I want to break free of this, to say that I am done with this stupid game, that I am not some pet or toy to be played with.

Yet then I would lose the person that has always seen the best of me, and the worst. Maybe I've lost him already, I don't know but as of right now there is still a chance. But I know that if I tell him how I feel right now, I will be disrespecting his wishes and it will all be done. So this becomes a catch 22. It gets worse when the only way to get him to listen to me is to physically force him to do it, or have another person help me. Which would only make this so much worse. 

And everyone of course has their own opinion and are pressuring me to do something other than what I have planned. Every once and a while I get someone supportive and I love it. I am so blessed to have those people in my life. I do not know what I would do without them. Yet the others... I just want to get away from it. I can't trust them to respect my beliefs, I can't trust them to respect my wishes. And it hurts. And makes this even more a prison. 

And yet in the darkest moments there is light. I know I can get through this, even though I may not know exactly how I will do it, I will get it done. I will be strong. I will be steel. And if he never gets to see what all his work has done, it is his loss and another's treasure. But one way or another I will become steel.

Relax.

It is funny how time moves. Adults used to warn me that when you got older time sped up. I never really believed them, until now. I look back on my life, thus far. I wonder what happened. A day used to seem like forever, even when you weren't waiting for something special to happen. Where has time gone? I still think of myself as 17 some days, even though I'm closer to 20. I forget that I will soon have lived two decades of my life, and I've got approximately 80 left after that. If this is just the first 2 decades of my life what are the next two going to be like?

Its been a whirlwind of a month, shit has hit the fan in ways I never thought it could. I broke up with boyfriend, I half got back with boyfriend. I lost a close friend of mine to pure jackassery. I lost my beloved grandma. I went through a fruitless job search. There are more things I could list, but I can't think of them right now. I've had to ride the waves of adulthood, and it has been fun and it has been absolutely awful. Yet it hasn't killed me.

I'm stitting writing this in my cousin's lake house. I've hung out with my amazing multitude of second and third cousins. I've carried my smaller cousins around on my back, I've gone kayaking with the older ones. Talked about death with some of the eldest, and overall just had a break from life. Being able to get away from my immediate family and spend some time with people I only see once a year. It is something that I wouldn't give up for the world.

These people are my inspiration for my next project. Last year I started writing a novel. This year I want to finish writing it. I'm writing about these people, the collection of crazy, different, strange, offbeat, onbeat, fun, people that are my family. I'm thinking of making this blog my place to write about and even post my book.

I fail

I made a mistake, I dumped boyfriend. Damn do I regret it. That wasn't the biggest mistake I made. I forgot that I didn't have a normal relationship. I forgot that boyfriend wasn't like wreck or weirdo, I forgot that he was special. I didn't treat him like he was intelligent. I didn't treat him like my partner, my other half. I treated him like the slaves that I've date before. I know it is stupid, and weird to say that. That I dated slaves. These boys never thought outside of the box, they always thought that normal was best and that was the best thing was the right thing.

Boyfriend wasn't and isn't like that. He is smart, he loves thought and reading. I didn't treat him like that, I treated him like the boys that had come before him. Quiet frankly I treated him like shit. I made the mistake of forgetting about him and trying to please myself.

I failed. I failed him, and I failed myself. I don't know who I failed more. I'm not sure if I can fix the mistakes I've made. I'm afraid to post this because I know he'll read it. I'm afraid it will only make things worse. Although I'm not sure I can make things worse. Cause I've messed up pretty badly this time. And the only thing that can fix it is space and time.

I hate that concept, that space and time will fix things. I guess I'm just impatient. I want things to be right, I want to say the right words, do the right things and bada boom bada bang it will all be okay. My existence will be right, I will have said the magic words and all will have healed. That isn't how this world works, we can't hack into each others brains and emotions with a few right words. Heck I don't know the words I would say. Would I say I love you thousand times? Would I say I'm sorry a million times? Would I beg for forgiveness a billion times? I honestly don't know.

I lost something, I lost a lot of things. I think the thing I miss the most is that childhood confidence, you know what I mean, that unshakable belief that you can grow up and do anything, be anything. If you ask an adult can you sing, they say no. Yet if you ask a child they will say yes. Children do not judge on if you did something well, they judge on if you did it. It isn't until we are older that we lose that wonder and excitement from just purely doing something.

When we grow up we lose so much, we lose our faith, we lose our confidence, we lose our innocence. It seems to me that from losing all this we gain unhappiness. We judge and are judged, we use what we have learned rather then making our own paths. That just doesn't seem right to me. Ever since I've become an adult I've been unhappy, I had to play by rules that don't work and frankly don't make sense. I've had to make everyone else happy and neglect myself. I've learned that the real monsters are the ones in your head, and those monsters are the hardest to get rid of.

I'm not afraid of responsibility, I'm not afraid of the adult world. I'm afraid that its messed up and that not enough people look at it with the eyes of a child and go at it with the will of a child. I'm afraid that I'm going to run myself down trying to save the world. Trying to be a hero. Yet if I look at it from the eyes of a child, and I do one thing right, I fix one thing. Then I am forever a hero.

I am terrible at keeping up with my blog

I hope to to be posting once a week now. At least. I'm thinking of changing my topics up a bit. I want to start talking about something that I am deeply embarrassed about. I am a messy, terribly messy, heck why not go with diblitatingly messy. The funny thing is I can be organized, in my head. In my head everything is in neat little boxes, and everything has a reason for being there. For those of you thinking of a cubical environment stop right there.

My little mind definitely looks a lot more like this. Ornate, beautiful, a bit old fashioned, yet still practical. Yet my room looks more like the starting of a hoard. You can't see the floor, sometimes there are paths through it, yet in my move back from college, I realized how much stuff I really have. I have too much. Why because I  need to keep everything. I just need to collect to have. Wow what a consumer I am.

Well I'm hoping to have a day by day of one interesting thing at least, that I threw away that day. In other words, I going to give you at least seven different things I threw away this week. And the stories behind them. Possibly pictures.

About Art

I am an artist. This is a fact. I study art. But there are some days that I just want to punch art right in the face. If there was a personification of art it would be a hermaphroditic transvestite with bipolar disorder coupled with multiple personality disorder and possibly a schizophrenic. And because art has so many problems I would feel terrible about punch it/she/he/them in the face. Yet our frienamie status would cause me to often want to inflict pain on art.

Why do I harbor such ill will upon art? It is a good question. Even I cannot fully understand my rocky relationship with art. Perhaps it has to do with it's "issues". Did I forget to mention that the multiple personalities of art are many and include, an autistic, a snob, a politician, a history buff, a crazy cat lady, just to name a few. Some of you might find that insulting. I'm sorry but this is how I feel about art.

Now there is a good place to start with art's bipolar disorder. One day it is about feeling, art is what you feel. One day its what you think. As an art student this is very confusing. Can't I just sit down and draw for god sakes? And of course depending on your poor sick and twisted art teacher the answer may be yes or it may be no. Of course on the days I want to draw with feeling it must be about style.

That is my personal beef with art, take a look at The Theatre of the Absurd. Let us take a look this lovely peice of work by Saumel Beckett called Not I

Well isn't that just lovely. Did you know our army uses this as some sort of preparation for psychological torture or something. And just in case you were wondering, the whole play goes on like that and to really understand it you have to listen very very carefully the character Mouth is trying to tell you something. I recommend listening to the Italian version if you know Italian and you have the time definitely listen to Non io. It make a lot more sense then the original author directed version I posted here. Now if this piece isn't enough of an example I don't know what is.

I have a problem..

So, I realized something today. I have a problem. I have many problems, but rarely, very rarely, do I decide to fix these problems. This one seems to be a simple fix. A fantastically simple fix. I have been suppressing my nerdiness.

I used to be perfectly content to be a "lost girl" one of Peter Pan's devotees. But for some reason when I hit oh about 14 or so I decided that sexiness would make more sense then geekiness. And so it begain. I stopped accepting who I am. I hid it. I didn't read Harry Potter Annually. I kept my nerdy books to my self. I stopped using big words. I tried to be the perfect girly girl.

My problem, is I'm afraid that Boyfriend will walk in and find me watching Heroes and make fun of me. Or worse finding me watching Oran Host Club or Fruit Basket. What is boyfriend coming back from? Dungeons and Dragons, so what the heck I'm worried about I don't know. I worry far too much.

I am a worry wart. I love worrying. I'm addicted to worrying, more addicted then when I became a junky. I think I need to make some sort of compromise. So I'm watching Heroes again. And I don't care who the heck sees me. I can be a strong sexy woman whose also a nerd! And so it shall be!

Sorry... I've been kind of busy lately.

I'm a nerdy type person, I love books, I love history, I love geeky things. I am all around geeky. Heck my major is technical theatre. I am a geek. There are two types of geekiness I am not though a gamer or a computer geek. These of course are the things that Boyfriend loves. I can tolerate this, why because boyfriend has no gaming systems at college so there isn't competition, until now.

Boyfriend has joined the league of super nerds, dungeons and dragons. And it is driving me nuts. Why? Why would miss accept all, love all and such dislike her boyfriend playing DnD. Well the thing is its a soul sucking life eater. I've tried to see if my opinion is totally off, trying to guilt myself into accepting this. It hasn't happened. All of my friends give me different suggestions, most of them having to do with sex.

Sex it out of him. Sleep with him more. Seduce him. Stories of how they had friends that played DnD until they got girlfriends. Now of course some of you very dirty minded people are thinking hehe she is going to talk about sex. No I'm going to whine about how my boyfriend has devoted his friday nights to super nerds and how somehow everyone thinks that sex will magically fix this problem. So ha the jokes on you, you dirty minded person.

Now I guess my real problem is I don't have a boyfriend from 7:30 friday night til 1 to 2 AM saturday morning. See since we have a very tiring week all I want to do at 7:30 is relax with my boyfriend, but because of DnD this cannot happen. I end up trolling the internet for hours, starting blog posts I never finish and generally become very grumpy.

So now I've decided I must find a new thing for Fridays, anyone have any suggestions?

A Thought...

 Warning: I started this blog as a sort of therapy. Usually my rants are funny. This one is serious. Read on if you wish.

I've been upset lately. Working myself up over things that in the end do not matter. Just trying to take everything on myself and wallowing in a self pitty hole. Because every thing that goes wrong in this world is my fault. Tsunami in Japan, my fault. Whatever is going on in Lebanon, my fault. I'm not sure how, but it is. Everything terrible in this world is my fault. And I take that and I despair because I could fix all this. I am human and I hold the power in my tiny body to change this whole planet. The only limits are time I say. But that I isn't true. The only limit is me. I am my one and only limit.

This gives me no end of frustrations. All I think about is I, while I'm struggling to help everyone else in this whole damn world. I'm selfish and selfless at the exact same time. Over all I'm just confused. I try to find the beauty in this world and all I find is my inability to act on my desires, to start really living my life. To start doing what I want and learning from it. Every time I take that step. That all important step I see Boyfriend behind me, and I realize I would do anything in this world to bring him with me. I'd do all that I could to keep him from falling behind me.

'Cause I know that he wants this too. At least I assume he does because when we fight about the demons in my head. The ones that push and pry at me, turning me into a zombie, he looks me in the eye and I can see the pain. I can see that he wants this too, and that he is suffering, he is falling apart inside. So I try to carry two of us. And sometimes I succeed, sometimes I fail. And when I fall he lifts me up. And we work as a team. I need to stop starting my sentences with and. We are happy this way, as happy as we can be. I push him, he pushes me, this is the way it is.

There is one problem with this whole situation. I'm trying to search for God in all of this. I grew up as a christian, and I've found that to be unsatisfying, unfulfilling. When I look out into the world, I look into everything I find him. I find him in people's actions, words, feelings. I find him in nature, I find him in patterns. I've generally accepted a Buddhist view of god, which is something that I am still seeking to understand. I understand that I will spend the rest of my life doing this, and I find happiness in this. Yet in myself, I have nothing.

I find no god in what I do. I believe that some how I'm not good enough. Nothing is enough. Meanwhile boyfriend is trying to comfort me. Trying to tell me that I am the best and that I should stop this insanity. Yet there is a rift. Boyfriend has no fire to take this religious journey with me. And I'm starting to question all that I'm doing. I am my only limit. Am I limiting myself by placing myself in this life, the modern day white picket fence. Should I abandon comfort for the chance to find what my soul is searching for? Should I wait it out and see if boyfriend starts to follow me too? I'm not asking for advice, because this is something that I have to choose. I have to find the answer with in myself.

Maybe if I just started ignoring the paralysis of fear that courses through my veins. The fear that I will once again not be good enough for god. That my devotion will never be enough in his eyes. Maybe if I spoke up and instead of letting somebody else's opinion sway me, instead of feeling stupid and cutting myself off. Perhaps if I didn't get frustrated when people genuinely didn't hear me. Perhaps if I just gave boyfriend a chance to come with me. What if I just started to taking a stand for what I believe in? What if I cut every rope, broke every chain, untied every knot, burnt every bridge, that is holding me down in fear. What if I managed to take up the sword and kill the demons that ran inside of my head.

Who would I become? Who would I be? Would I still be me? I don't know anymore. I maybe it's time I put down what my parents wish, what my friends wish, what society wishes, and did what I wish. Then again maybe I'll just hide in fear. Hide from the glory of god.

I am shy. I am incredibly shy. My shyness knows some bounds. I can do a one on one conversation. Other then that, well I'm shy. I'm not sure how many times I can say this I AM SHY! This turns me into a doormat. Not only a doormat but a toilet. A public toilet in a bar. I get pissed on, shat on, and puked on.

Now this shyness doesn't just exist in real life. It exists here in the internet. I don't pass out information and I'm even afraid of people actually finding out about this blog. Oh noes the idea of spreading my adventures sounded good on paper but now that it is actually happening I'm about to die. Die a painful and unnecessarily terrible death. Like being trampled by strippers in heals. Devoured by house cats. Licked to death by puppies. The list goes on and on.

Boyfriend thinks this is silly. Boyfriend isn't shy like me. Boyfriend isn't afraid to be an idiot in public. I blame this on his male genitalia. Men have a habit of being habitually stupid, in public. Girls not so much. For instance look at the amount of male stand up comedians to female.  A lot more men then women. Why? Because women being stupid isn't funny, its just sad. I resent this. I want to be funny too! Why can't I be funny, I make you laugh right? My crazy life makes you laugh, it makes me laugh for sure.

And of course you can look into it and realize that yes I have mommy and daddy issues. Of course I do. My parents are insane! I promise to tell you more about this because I have some very funny stories about them being insane. Yay insane people! Well thats enough for today.