Mid Life and Reclaiming the Crown.

Ladies and gentlefolk we've entered a new era.

Sorry that I haven't really updated anyone on the current state of affairs. Though I guess I haven't really done that at all on this blog. I've been having tons of thoughts and things I've wanted to talk about but they never organized themselves past, "Oh dear, think about this..."

I've attempted to corral them into paragraphs. But so far my life at 18 (which, I'll give, has only been a month or so.) has been a string of tasks to accomplish. That's been helpful in the emotional stability, but not in the expression of emotions.
I'm not sure where this is going, I just want to chill out and read a book or something.

Little life update:

• Turned 18
• Gained a job
• Almost done with high school (Curse you geometry) 
• Bought a mattress 

Yeah, that's the accomplishments of 2k15. 

-H

As I've Grown.

As I’ve grown,
I’ve witnessed countless tragedies.

Whether it was guns or bombs,

In person or on T.V.

The world is a better place,

This much is true.
Less deaths thanks to disease,

Less things to kill you.

As I’ve grown,

I’ve come to disagree.

The mathematicians must not see

The world I see.

Graphs say the world is getting better.

Crime is going down,

The ocean is going up,
The shoreline is getting wetter.

But as I’ve grown.

The only things I see,

Are wars on drugs,

On terror,

On me.

From the time I was born,

In 1997,

I can’t count the number of

Funeral processions.

As I’ve grown,
I’ve seen people cry.
Watching millions of innocents die.

I ask the world,

Now that I’m 18,
What changes are left unseen.

Now that I’m grown,

I need to know,
Just where the future will go.
-H

New Dog, New Tricks.

This year's Thanksgiving (or Native American Heritage week for people who know that Chris Columbus was a Major Asshole™ -source- and that the original thanksgiving was a sham.)  break was pretty different from last years.
Well, I still started out by saying C.C. isn't deserving of a holiday, so maybe not super different.

This year I got a job! I worked Black Friday (yes, anti-capitalist Hunter of the past, you took part in the most capitalist holiday of the year. And you were kinda good at it.) I also got a dog. Well the dog actually kinda got me. We were just supposed to be a temporary home for her, but she's so sweet. So now her name is Frieda Friday and she's the most amazing friend ever. 

I'm also almost done with school, and I have my drivers licence appointment soon. Things are really shaping up. OH! I also bought a bed! It's the most adult thing I've spent my money on since I had more than $27 dollars to spend. It's been a pretty good year.
The best thing? My favorite pagan holiday is coming up, Yule. All pine trees and warm feelings.

-H

Seek Medical Attention.

I have a habit.
A very sever habit of staying up for days at a time, and allowing exhaustion to crash over me like a wave. I will stay up for 20 hours and sleep for 2, then repeat until the weekend. Then, and only then, will I crash for 16-24 hours.
I never figured out why I did this, but it's been happening since I was a very little girl. When I was six, I would lay in bed until midnight, then I would creep into my grandpa's lap and watch some R rated movie. I would watch stories of women seeking revenge. I would watch stories of warlords reigning over their territory.
As I got older, the habit grew. With the dawn of the Internet, I used my sleepless nights to learn. Mostly words, sometimes different ideas. I attempted to teach myself other languages and got pretty far in it too. I would watch different stories. Ones of love and heroic sacrifice.
Now I am older still. I sleep less frequently than I did before, I chalk it up to safety. I never feel safe enough to sleep. I don't live in an environment where I feel it's okay to shut down, so I don't until I push myself to the shore of exhaustion.
I want to sleep. Go to bed at eleven, wake up at seven and repeat the process.
But then I feel like I would miss the night and all its charms. The way silence sounds at 3AM. The way hysterical laughter feels after 24+ hours without sleep. I know it isn't good to force yourself into mini comas, but what else could I possibly do.
-H

Outstanding Child, Average Adult.

There is an old saying about visualization, that I can't quite remember but, it goes something like "See the things you want, have the things you see." or something.
I have been repeating the same mantra for the last three weeks to maintain the last stretches of my sanity.
"Two jobs, rent, college."
That is my dream. To work two shitty retail jobs, to be able to make my exorbitant Southern California rent, to go to a shitty pre college.
My dreams used to include changing the world, breeding a dinosaur super army so I could become queen of Atlantis, becoming the first paleontologist to discover something cooler than a t-rex (though apatosaurus was always my personal favorite.)
When did my dreams become so little and mundane.
"Yeah, one day I'd like to be able to work one job to be able to afford rent."
"Totally understandable, I dream of one day being able to sleep without fear of a dick being drawn on my face."

I live in a house of angry people, it's made me a really volatile person. I get sad over very small things, because I'm used to molehill mountains. I have a visible flinch when someone raises their voice over the octave of excitement. I don't actually know what it would be like to be able to live without the constant fear of my family walking into my room, without any care to my privacy, and screaming at me.
I've been doing a sort of experiment, whenever someone I'm related to talks to me, I see what they'll say. It's been pretty easy to pattern out so far;
Mother: "Can you take out the trash?"
Grandma: "You missed something."
Grandpa: *Something slightly patronizing, meant in good humor but gets on my nerves anyhow*

I certainly have more relatives I live with, but those are the stand outs.

I'm really sad. Like, truly in my soul, kind of sad. I used to have such outstanding dreams, and such an indomitable spirit when it came to the future. Now I just feel like I'm running on autopilot.
-H

3:30AM, The Bastard.

Panic seizes my body. As I tremble in unconceivable fear, I move to my altar. I pull out salt and quartz and everything I've ever heard helps with anxiety and I top it with a pretty shell. My incantation is desperate and simple. A prayer to whatever heaven will hear me.
"Let this go away, allow me to be calm."
It's three AM and I cannot sleep.
I hear little noises, the air kicking on or a bag blowing over because of the fan. Each sound reverberates and creates a new shockwave of panic and fear. I attempted to drown this out with nature sounds and other music, but the terror just grows. I dig deep to steel myself. I know nothing is going to hurt me, but the silence is unbearable.
I text a friend, desperate for a response. Anything to keep me busy until the sleep aid kicks in.
There is no sound from my phone.
I'm so damn scared, I hardly know what to do with myself.
-H.

(Think Thoughts): Writing Words.

Hello Gentlefolk,
It is I your, sometimes late and always flirty, leader.
I'm thinking about calling all my personal posts (Think Thoughts). Not sure about it yet, so that's subject to change. Whatever they end up being called, you will be able to find them tagged on the upper right corner of your screen. With all the other words, like 'writing' and 'metaphysical'.
What thoughts may I be thinking today? Well, I'm on a sort of mini vacation. It's honestly more like purgatory before I get sent back to earth because I reaaally fucked up. Kidding, earth is amazing and we should love it and all its inhabitants #spreadpeace. I decided that I wasn't going to spend a year of my life in exchange for community college, I would instead undertake independent study and finish in three months.
That's just been on my mind, as well as the thoughts of kids wanting to be the 'Next Kurt Cobain' because it seems tragic and beautiful. Yeah, you probably guessed, but I wasn't talking about K.C.'s major influence on the grunge movement of the 90's.
My brain has been pretty fuzzy lately, partially because I've been really struggling with my mental illness. As well as the whole 'Giant Choices That Will Influence Most Of My Life' thing. Oh yeah, I'm totally sick right now. Which anyone who's followed my hop from blog to blog knows is hilarious.
I'm pretty much losing my longest standing support system because of these decisions. My knee jerk reaction was to say,
"Fine, it's not like I want them in my life anyway."
Then I thought about the consequences of my actions and the fact that isolation will only make problem A worse (Mental Illness will hereby be known as Problem A.) Now I'm left reeling.
Lucky me I have such great friends, they swooped in and told me to
1) Screw Them

• They decided that they didn't want to support me, that's not my fault. 

2) Breath

and to finally
3) Believe In Myself

• Let's face it, I'm pretty rad. My friends are more rad, and cool sharks are even more rad. But I digress. I keep getting all junked up with freaking out that I forget to have fun. So the most rational answer? Believe in my radness. 

Those are the thoughts I'm thinking right now, among other things.
Pretty tame compared to other blogs, I think.
-H.

(P A S S I V E...O B S E S S I V E)

Finding some new

Niche

Is the best drug I can imagine.

Boys,

Girls,

Words,

or

Stories.

It never matters.

I feed off the

Energy,

I need your

Attention,

I don't know you but I miss

You.

Please I can't 

Move on.

-H.

The Chase.

Vincent Van Gogh told me to go out and taste the stars. To paint them with my wide eyed brush. That same brush that was tinted rose with the words of Emerson and Aristotle. Those 'great' poets told me to live my adventure, and to hold close my dreams. Scientists have spouted for years that I am special. That I am made from the building blocks of universes and I am innumerable.
All throughout my childhood, Doctor Seuss wrote for me a path of confounded prose. Telling me stories of all the places I could go and I believed every word. I remember the first time I picked up a Harry Potter novel and I heard Dumbledore tell me about his mismatched wool socks. I recall the sense of whimsy the words ignited in my chest.
I remember picking up Shakespeare's 'A MidSummer's Night's Dream' and having that whimsy run wild. I was entranced by the pitter patter of Iambic pentameter. I recall being engrossed by Edgar Allen Poe's trokey, as he talked about ravens rapping on his door. All these voices calling to me from the past, inspiring my mind to rebel against my present.
I remember finding out about Van Gogh's depression, Poe's too. I learned about Shakespeare being a drunkard, and my dearest Doctor fighting nazis. The way those realizations dawned upon me, the weight of their words only increased. Suddenly the raven was no longer a mischievous friend, but a sullen companion. No longer did Puck seem to be the lovable scamp, but more the righteous hand of fate.
The beauty of 'Starry Night' became insurmountable.
There is a sense of wonder that never left me. Inspired by the greats of old. They whisper to me while I try to sleep. They tell me their tales and ask me mine.
"Who are you?" They say, and "What are your sorrows?"
I miss the days when I responded freely
"I wish I had more money." "I wish that I was in love."
But now things have changed. I am no longer chasing sorrows, because despite what the greats told me, I chose to chase a more finicky beast. I chose to follow hope. The light that glows in the flowers at dawn. The way the ocean sounds at midnight. I chose to follow my heart and chase my dreams like wisps off a wishing weed. I don't know where this road leads me, because more often than not it's not a road, but I know I will land one day. Wherever I land those greats will follow.
Because people like us can't help but to chase a story.
-H.

A Lot of Shitty Things Happen at One in the Morning.

Hello friends and we are back again with another riveting insight into the brain hole that is Me!
(Little forewarning, I've currently take 80mg of melatonin, and am likely to get hella sleepy at any given point in time.)
This post is all about why you should avoid 1AM to 4AM like the plague.

Reason number one:

• Loneliness is a powerful demon.
• This isn't just a demon that eats you from the inside out, it's the kind that kills your imagination and creativity. Instead of taking the time to think of cool stuff, like a Princess commanding a dinosaur army, you're stuck thinking really sad stuff and life sucks.

Reason two:

• Your penmanship will fucking suck.

Reason three:

• All that bundled up sadness can do some serious damage in the long run.
• Moodiness and emotion, despite what the dead drunks say, are not the muses you want. 
• Sadness is a vixen, she wants to use you for all you have and then leave you to rot like Poe.
• Anger is a temptation, a seducer if you will. He'll hold your hand and pull you along while whispering sweet nothings of revenge to you. The same he did with Mary Shelly. 

Reason four: 

• Whoever said life imitates art is a dirty liar.
• art imitates life, so make your art beautiful. Surround yourself with good vibes and wonderful people. Make your art mean something different than all those who've come to pass. Live your life believing in the good.
• And please for the love of all that is holy. Avoid the danger zone while thinking.

I have more things to say and pictures to add. But I think I'll continue that on another day.

Have a beautiful evening,
H.

And So It Begins.

Hello and welcome ladies and gentlefolk.
My name is Hunter, how ya doin'?

This blog came together pretty quickly, all things considered. Either I do this to often and am getting (too) good at it, or this blog was meant to be. This one is for the remainder of my summer (all forty-two days of it) and my senior year in high school. I can promise you one thing, this will probably much more than that. I have a habit of keeping internet diaries. They've gotten me into trouble in the past, but I don't really think that matters now.

I could write out my whole life story for you, so you have a better idea of who I am. I might even be tempted to do so, if I hadn't done it three times already. Instead? I'm just going to link you to those posts.
(here) Most recent.
(here) Sophomore Year.
(here) *Shudders* Freshmen Year. We all start somewhere.

Upfront honesty time, I have a bad habit of not writing everyday, or making posts when I say I will. Expect very little from me and you will be very happy.

Hopefully we get to party.