Certifiable

So I'm still kinda on the insanity bit and I'll tell you why. As my last post presented, I believe I may be out of my head. As I was bawling and writing, there was still a part of me that did a spell check before posting my thoughts to the world wide web. Seriously...spell check. So I'm a deranged lunatic who cares about proper spelling.

Really what I want to speak of though is not whether I am certifiable but what I am capable of. Not me specifically either, but humanity in general...which I suppose includes me to a certain extent. It surprises me what a person is capable of. Still. I know shocking that any kind of human depravity could shock anyone cuz it's all pretty much been done...to me mostly. The sheer amount of trauma we can cause in another persons life, especially the people we love. I guess if you're gonna destroy somebody, you better make it count. Shocking how able and willing we are to preserve our own meager world at the expense of someone else and theirs. I often, too often, put every ones needs above my own. To such degree that I end up the broken one to avoid the hurt in another. Not a lot of people feel or act in this way. A person does not nor will ever understand what types of scars they've left. Not sure if they want to imprint a series of negative images forever on a person or if it's completely unintentional and purely out of fear and loathing...those words are so intrinsically one. I don't want these imprints, these scars to never heal...to always be visible to those new to me and even those not so. I want to begin anew and take every individual as such-an individual and not connected to my past experience with tragedy. When something is over it's done. I feel no need to make myself feel better by making the other feel worse. I want to heal. I want to move on. I want to be new. That's why babies are so great. They smell funny and the smugness on their parents face makes me want to punch them so...but they do offer an important concept. I hate that all I do is hate. Even when I'm not hating I feel like I'm barely holding off a descent into this negative void I've grown so accustom to. No one should feel comfortable in this. I somehow can't seem to escape. I deny who I am to most but mostly myself. I want to be reborn, born again...I should become religious...those people are great at contented falseness.

"Insane in the Membrane..."

I believe I am insane. Why else would I have made the decisions I have all the while expecting something else...some other more favorable outcome? The problem is, insanity is not usually followed by emotion. So how far gone am I really? So far in fact that guilt and loathing have become a staple to me like cheese or chocolate. Or perhaps I'm not completely broken because i still maintain feelings that wouldn't ordinarily exist if I were truly mad. I live in a constant state of fear; Fear that I have created and than sustained and than perpetuated. Fear makes a person do crazy things...so maybe this path of insanity was paved with good intentions...nope...cannot even pretend that that's the truth(at the very least I can still tell the difference). This path I've strode with blinders and blinkers on, letting those of less madness pass on the left, was paved in selfish concern for only I. Afraid of how things would affect me. There is a point when taking care of yourself first, turns into a one women show and you are left standing on your path, that you chose I might add, cold and more frightened than ever before. I continue to choose poorly. All out of fear. Afraid of what others may think, or do, or say...or not. I've learnt that damaging others is only short term as the true damage permeates the "damager." The only time I've told the truth is when I've had to. When truth would no longer sit idly by and watch the carnage unfold. What good does speaking the truth do? Well, if you prevent the lies in the first place...a lot. I want to crawl from my skin, forget the awfulness that is me, or at least became me and never be known again. As anything. I am so lucky and yet so very undeserving. How did I get here? How is this what I've become? Pretend. Lie. Imagine better but never get past pretending. I want to stop pretending. I want to stop lying. I want to be everything I've imagined and more and yet I'm afraid. OF WHAT!!!!!????? I don't even know anymore. I've spent so long pretending that my existence doesn't quite seem real. Like even if I did exist, I don't. I've fabricated a life that never was or will ever be. People like the pretend me...I've learnt early on that people get along well with pretend Rhandi. She's smart. Cute. Well read. Funny when the mood allows. Entertaining and never stricken with the usual horridness that is a girl. Never emotional. Always calm and collected. A mystery to be unearthed. There's no mystery...just deceit and rot. A rotting pustule of slyness and regret. Welcome to the truth...the reality...the insanity...it's scarier than you thought.

A Repeat

I am once again questioning every choice I have ever made and every path I have ever strode upon. Why? Once again, someone very clever and becoming dear to me has brought to my attention that I have entered myself into a futile profession. Not in those words mind you, but he certainly brought up some very valid points...or were they? I, when growing up and performing in my back yard(whilst dictating my sisters every move), not once, not ever pontificated on the matters of money. Did I ever worry how I'd support myself? Did i ever wonder how others would see my choices and development? Did I ever think that somehow I was lacking in my choice of career, nay, passion while others had the "right" idea? Nope. I dreamt of stages lit with white light and my talents. I thought of roles that entertained the world and changed the hearts of a rare few deserving of such knowledge. Money was never on the radar of my hopes and goals. Was it just because of my youth that these thoughts never surfaced, or was it that money does not equate value. If you were a young lad growing up and relishing a life in a field as invasive as medicine, AND, you were not getting paid for it...would you still voluntarily enter into such a daunting choice? Of course reverence would come to those who chose this profession as with acting, but if the money were never a factor...would people still do the maniacally insane amount of work it takes to enter such a field? Sure you love what you do and you affect other people which inevitably aids in the world remembering you, but would you still do it? Is it wrong of me to want to get paid to do what I love? Is it almost an obscene idea to try and put money in the same sentence as what I love? Does money belong in a conversation about passion and involvement? Perhaps it is I who puts all the emphasis in the wrong avenue. I just feel pressure, from nearly perfect strangers apparently, to convince them of the benefits of being in the arts. I would love not to ever serve another human being again in any capacity other than to entertain. I would need money for that...payment of sorts...perhaps return to a time of mercantilism and receive an arm load of beans for a performance...magic ones of course, but it would be some recognition of sorts. The world would know I have purpose and my struggles would not go in vain. I long for the days of flitting bout my back yard, doing magic shows and Beach Boys air bands. I never worried about convincing anyone of anything...maybe cuz I didn't have to convince myself. So why am I so intent on making money such an integral part of what I love to do? Cuz everyone else does? Cuz i secretly do but refuse to admit it on principle? Or cuz a doctor wants to know, "Where do you go with this, exactly?" Why do I need to know where it goes? How will that help me lead a fulfilling and positive life? Am I only bothered by his valid questions because I feel like I am not accomplishing what I should be and am only deflecting so I don't end every night in tears with ice cream pouring from my eye sockets? Now I am off topic, I'm afraid. Anyways, the point is I long for a day when I could say to someone upon meeting them, "I am an actor" without hesitation and looking away sheepishly cuz I see the same old question rising in their throat and i'm embarrassed by my admission.

The Unicorn

It is brought to my attention on pretty much a daily basis that I have exceedingly far reaching expectations and standards when it comes to people I choose to care about. Is it though that I expect far too much or that people have become lazy, complacent, stubborn and provide far too little. Far too little effort, far too little of themselves and far too not fucking good enough. I want a man in my life who with his shiny, thick, and luxurious locks has the ability to sweep me off my feet at a moments notice, listen to me without hesitation and a glazed look to the eye(hey, I have interesting stuff to speak of), oozes confidence from every orifice, emanates maturity, stability and confidence, fears not the unknown and can stand beside me as an intellectual equal(if that's remotely possible). So all I want is everything I am in a dude...ahhh, the Unicorn. I don't think that's too much to ask. For those of you who don't ask for at least that, you're selling yourselves short. I declare as of this moment in space and time, that I shall never settle. I won't ignore potentially disastrous elements of a persons nature cuz "I like them". Nor will I attempt to rectify any personality traits I deem teeming with incongruity with my list above...you either have it or you don't. Why must we always be forced to choose one or the other? You can have the great guy but he has serious commitment, or stability, or financial, or maturity, or or or... issues? That's not so fucking great. I believe it is entirely possible to have it all. If I have the ability to look at myself, proclaim, hey...this is what's wrong with me so I am going to take great measures to fix it...why can no one else? How do you not see that you are totally fucked and should be alone to protect humanity from your inevitably fucked spawn? Lost people do not raise right offspring. Unless it's like eye color and the fucked gene can be somewhat repressed in like, oh I don't know, every other child. If you are fucked, you should be scarlet lettered. What right do you have to run around all willy nilly, making people fall in love with you and than announcing for all the world, "I AM FUBAR!" I want my unicorn and I will bide my time until the day comes when I can hop on that stupendous back side and ride him home to momma...who by the way, will instantly alert me to the fact that he's probably just an ass with a stick taped to his forehead.

Ellen Degenerate

The current source of my anger stems from this dyke acting like a complete dick. I am very unhappy with a great many thing but at the moment i confess that most my frustration is spawned by television and its purveyors of nonsense and filth. Now normally I love filth. I am a great proponent of anything that stirs a little o that dirty side of me however right now i exist in sheer disgust and frustration. So as a talk show host i understand your role in tv land: entertain that ever increasing stream of slack jawed seal-like sadists who love nothing more than to scream their lungs out at endless applause signs and accept hand-outs as though they were owed that new car, pile of cash, or big screen. It's a fairly simple yet brilliant equation of making stupid people falsely happy for brief moments in between commercials, keep ratings high with top talent and dance, laugh, fucking irritate to no end. How many 12 year old aspiring singer/songwriter/dancer/useless ability/ must we be witness to before somebody stops the insanity? Unfortunately these poor kids will be 45, broke and wondering why Ellen was the highlight of their miserable "careers?" There is nothing at all wrong with hope or nurturing someones dream but come on? Not every aspiring actor on your day time show has the stuff to make it in anything other than a dinner theatre slinging prime rib to people who have as equally as little intelligence to spot who has "it" and who doesn't. Why not have on your show the 45 year old man who spent his life chasing a dream, getting nowhere near where he wanted it to blossom and how he's had to come to terms with living in his parents basement sucking cock to buy bus tickets to reach his monthly audition for Cialis and hemorrhoid commercials cuz no one else will look twice at a 45 year old who lives in his parents basement and sucks cock for bus tickets. Are you really helping these kids realize anything? Are you doing more for them then the damn internet could? Have you ever checked back years down the road to see if you've opened any doors or is rejection something that wouldn't boost ratings during sweeps? I wonder why you don't have kids on your show who read a book every week or watch their little sister while their single mom drinks and gambles her life and her families savings away. Those people deserve recognition not some little punks who learned that if they copied someone famous and posted a web video, Ellen will support you whole hearted. This is only one small example of how you disappoint me. The other day you had a woman on who had five children, a sixth one on the way and a husband who was unable to support his existing family let alone the newest additional travesty. Not only does Ellen bring her on the show, a gracious surprise in itself, but she showers her in gifts and TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS! Does your depravity know no bounds? Why in the fucking christ hell are you rewarding this daft ridiculous woman and her immensely obscene family with anything??? If nothing else you should have given her a lifetime prescription of birth control and stopped the madness in its fiendish little tracks. Really? You can't afford a SIXTH child so you write Ellen for help? I understand that prescriptions can be pricey but more costly that another child for the rest of your life? I would have given her a free hysterectomy, maybe thrown in a lobotomy for good effing measure and brought out the next guest. Why are we rewarding people who have made their bed, fucked far too many times in it and than cried when a baby was the final result? If you can't afford the children you have, STOP FUCKING! Be smart and prevent the tragedy that is quite frankly inflicting our world like a plague of hungry and unstoppable locusts. If you feel the need to have children so you can give them everything you did not receive, adopt from an impoverished country...they'll still be a tiny version of you even if you didn't create them and they'll appreciate your shit ever so much more. Than we can all benefit from your infinite wisdom and generosity. If you are stupid, stop reproducing and if you are Ellen, stop supporting it.

The Question is the Answer

I have been told on many an occasion that i ask far far too many questions. Questions about anything, everything and the meaningless stuff in between. I don't see how that could be possible. I believe super strongly that questions, even those that shall remain answer less for perhaps eternity, are the life blood of why we were given the gift of thought. We have evolved and will continue to expand our brain power beyond my wildest expectations because of questions. Asking why is how our brains leap forward in every facet of its function. Social change comes about by asking the tough ones, even though answers may be hundreds of years away. We do not affect change by following those we have elected into "power", listening to those who claim to want change and progress and than strolling yet again saddened and bereft to the polling station when those "leaders" have failed us once more. I do not claim to know how to solve the ailments of our society but I do know how to start...by asking why. Question why our government instills such fear in its country when our leaders should be asking its people how the system should work...why the politicians spend more time wrapped up in elaborate and brilliantly organized schemes of scandal...why the media portrays not just the facts but facts with intent and purpose designed to capture, entertain and distract our world so we wouldn't know the truth if it knocked on our doors and asked us to vote for it. The ability to question the actions of others is a gift not to be taken lightly. We should have more reverence for our talent to ask. We should realize that we have more power than the media screams that we don't. We should remember what it feels like to stand for something and than stand for it. Member? The fifth of November? People asking the questions and demanding the answers and if they do not suffice, we send those who we "trust", to run every inch of our lives back to the god damned drawing board and start again. We've stopped questioning why we are here. If this does or completely does not matter. Why we so willingly sit back in subdued stasis, waiting for our lives to change and our world to fix itself. I question with the hope of answers but more so because the question opens doors to more unanswered thoughts. That's okay! At least my questions keep me flexible. At least my questions keep me from acting any way other than I should. At least my questions keep me occupied so as to avoid the thoughtless path of action so many other fools take. Why aren't the people in power asking questions? Where are the questions for us, the people of this land? They have become so entrenched in their lies and deceit and scandal that they are lost to us and most, like a good soap opera, follow along and speak of the latest travesty as if it were the sunny day upon us. We have taken the bullshit that's been set upon our plates and gobble it just as greedily as the bullshitters have dispelled it. Why are we not asking anymore? Are we so lost? We must start some where...so I ask, Why are you pretending? Let it go...start anew, find what is most important and ask...for Christ sake, ASK!

Everyone's Stupid But Me

I feel as though I've wrote about this elegant topic before...perhaps it's just that I've thought about it for quite some time or that all of my rants consist of some form of stupidity or another. Why is it so easy to hate...and so very difficult to love? Maybe, as most of my revelations are, it is just my inability to project happy wovey dovey feelings because of the way in which I was raised, but it seems like hating on others is so effortless, it's practically fun. Maybe that's why it's so easy...cuz it seems so fucking enjoyable. I hate because I don't understand. I cannot fathom how stupid the world has become. I see so many examples of sheer unadulterated stupidity everyday that its presence practically overshadows any other occurrence in my life. I see stupid people driving...jesus christ there are bad drivers riding rampant paths of destruction through our streets. Idiots walking are just as prevalent; Stupid people eating, talking, laughing, shopping, and several other verbs that carry us through our daily existence and equal to nothing. Why do these people not understand their obvious level of retardation and just stay home? Or, take a perhaps harsher yet I think more positive stance and strangle themselves to death in the comfort of their dingy basements...unnatural selection. Sure it sounds awful, I can hear you judging me, if you morons understood what I just said...however think how much better off society, nay the effing world would be without you dolts running around mindless and numb ruining every system set up to aid you, (although without you to begin with we wouldn't require said programs), scarring those individuals who attempt to understand and pity you, and breeding as if your genitals owed you money, spawning yet another generation of ridiculous human beings who understand not and care even less...WON'T SOMEBODY THINK OF THE CHILDREN?!? I think that's the worst part: People who should be having children are not or even as far as incapable of doing so, while the retards run a muck with thirty idiotic offspring to generate only more hopeless thought and action. How do you people function without falling down? Honestly. It sounds funny but I think a legitimate question. Not only do i work with stupids all day, I am forced to serve the stupids and somehow that degrades me to a status painful to think of. I find also that these people who seem more prevalent at every turn of the head, is that they are less respectful and obscenely more rude than the normals. I believe their lack of brain function either does not permit them a conscience or their ego driven existence forces them to be hostile and filthy to others they perceive as an intellectual threat. I am also super cute so that could be part of it. Why are these people here, and I use that term "people" very loosely. Troglodyte shells of energy stored in a cast of skin and bone...amoebas have more sense. Are they created to make us 10 percenters feel better about our selves when the world seems to tear us down? Do they transform my world of brilliance and perfection into something I can complain about cuz I don't have enough to do? Have they the ability to evolve and learn and grow like the rest of us and I should cut them some slack...even attempt to help them advance? Are they purely a joke sent by some mischievous force for endless mocking? Maybe, they are here for me to evolve and learn and grow from...to be more tolerant, compassionate and forgiving? Than again, maybe it's just Camrose.