I called you tonight, but your phone was off.
I can understand having a hard time with how I show my feelings (or lack thereof)-
but I can assure you, underneath my cold skin I am as full of emotion as you are
I hope that other girl you are with is vibrant and I hope she makes you happy

Reasons like tonight are why I am so cold to the touch and unemotional

All I want is for you to sleep next to me
And to hold me and at least pretend to love who I am

I know someone who is getting a "dead inside" tattoo.
I almost stole the idea till I realized I am NOT dead inside. I am vibrant and healthy and active and full, if not overflowing with love for my friends and family. Maybe dead to the outside, but inside I have my own secret garden.

I am worse than goths sometimes, seriously, the way i whine.

But its becoming more and more apparent to me that I am indeed a masochist, and I want it heavily and I want more. Right now I am overflowing with creativity and appreciation for life; and why? because of a scene i did last night that I consider heavy. Not heavy as in you see the bruising heavy, heavy as in incapacitating (temporarily) heavy.
Destructive? awesome? fulfilling? amazing? terrible? wonderful?

I love duality

Awesome Parenting Skills

http://www.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/asiapcf/05/13/australia.driver.ap/index.html

Truly, I am awestruck.


-More to come later.

Dream

I had a tumultuous weekend, details arent necessary.

But I had a crazy dream that just has me thinking.

On saturday night, I dreamed I was dead. Like, freshly. I was hovering above my naked body, I was on a stainless steel gurney table, or something. Family came to identify the body but I couldnt really see who it was, and I could just hear whispers of what they were saying. People came, faceless friends whispered and left. I looked at all parts of my body- I looked really closely at a lot of the parts of my body, from what I can tell my dream was crazy accurate. I kept saying "what killed me?" but there were no visible clues. I looked so still and rested... weird, usually you dont smell in dreams, but I smelled death in this dream. Anyone who has seen someone die or has worked with sick/dying animals can tell you death has a smell. After a while, the area around me emptied and it was just me and the MLI (person who performs autopsy) and I heard his thoughts. Typical "so young, sad" stuff. My perspective shifted to his view of me briefly and then to random people reacting to my death (an old teacher, friends, etc) but then i was hovering above myself again. I was so confused. What was I supposed to do? How was I dead? Did I do everything that I wanted? Could I go back? Was I dreaming? I was amazed by my own form- like, the human body, skin, everything. I was confused where I was supposed to go. After the MLI cleaned me up, and just as the MLI started to make the Y-incision, I woke up. Confused, but alive.

It's really had an effect on me. I dont really fear death, but the dream really made me realize I can die. And what would happen to me? What if I do die young? I feel like I have a lot to do. As time is going on and I'm getting older, I am beginning to see how I affect people around me, and I'm starting to take responsibility for things that i've done, things I've said, and things they won't say. I am tough, but my life is fragile. I am still not scared of dying, but for the record- if I am to die, regardless of the circumstances- I have a file saved on my laptop that has my affairs in order.

I hope if I do die anytime soon, I do get to spend some time like I had in my dream- my body has been good to me and I've been pretty rough on it.

its nights like this where I feel like I am slipping into something crazier and crazier. The clock isnt reading a physically possible time. Everything falls apart. I wish I could lie in the grass and become engulfed in the plants and be taken back into the earth. My day is going to be hell. I cant sleep, I hurt. I also want to get a new outfit to wear to Ohio, I want to go somewhere exotic, I want to slice my forearms open and play with my blood. I want to be done with feeling like a sex object. I'm sure someone outside of my family, somewhere, somehow likes me for reasons transcending anything sexual, but I would like quite a few of you to step back and reexamine our relationship. If it werent for sexual stuff, how much more or less would you care about me? How much of myself can I pour into an individual if i get to watch those same grains of myself fall right through the sieve in their eyes? Meaningless, nothingless... yes strangely familiar. I shouldnt be surprised; the thorns have been in my side for months but the stinging burning pain is unrelenting. There are men, there are women, there is me. My head alone is another entry to write about. I'll stick to one man, and one woman.

One woman though in particular- shes smooth, understanding, demure- and a total fucking tease. Ive liked her for two goddamn years and I am as of yet to do more than waste a few hundred dollars courting her. I want to say sorry to her. Sorry I thought youd ever sincerely turn to me. Sorry for trying to listen to you whenever you were rambling about a life you lead that will never include me. Sorry for the things I did say and sorry for responding to your smooth, goddess-like hand sliding up my thigh. Sorry for rolling around laughing in the grass with you at that concert. Sorry for never caring that we were openly gay in public. Sorry you make me secure enough to want to publicly display my emotions for you. I cant blame you. Youre not human to me any more. I'm sorry, I dont know what to do with you. Find another girlfriend with a wacky hairstyle and a quirky life. I'm sorry my bed is no longer for you.

There is one man too. Worship me. Love me. Look into my eyes when we talk. Like we used to. Carve out a piece of this world I barely understand and tell me what to do, or don't, but hold my hand as I stumble around and make the best of it. Fuck pride. Fuck all that stuff.

The most disturbing thing about that last paragraph is I have no idea who its aimed at. I dont know myself anymore. I want to get away, to run away, to just get away for now. God, please.

Let me get away please
Please

sick and grumpy

my head is pounding and my spine feels like a metastasizing tumor. every time i swallow I feel like i am going to through up. i have work tomorrow.
One, no
two, no
three times
at least
four and five are definite possibilities.
is it worth it?
Is it worth my back hurting?
is it worth the sleep loss?
is it worth....
the BIGGER headache?

Im complaining about being dizzy and disoriented and stuff. It really is helped by the fact i miss you. I feel like I didnt do enough for you last time around. I feel like I can do more. But right now, with my head pounding and my back hurting i can't.

I dropped the math minor. screw math. Its not that i think "screw math" its the whole "screw my school's math department" thing. I really do hate those sons of bitches. i can learn linear algebra in my own sweet time, I guess. Maybe, after this headache does away.

Fuck. I also have a doctors appointment tomorrow.
I'm not gonna do shit on tuesday. I am not going to do shit on wednesday. Thurday, I am getting hammered. I have a very special friend with a handle of some college-appropriate liquor and I have fresh mint, so we're doing shots and mojitos. I think I will buy an overpriced rum and a few limes
shit, I have to buy limes. where the fuck can I buy limes where I live? that's gonna be a 90 min + pursuit.
AND it's definitely, definitely time to go to a spa. Personal hygiene is slipping.

... but then I'll have spa, airplane tickets, camp, rum, rent, and other stuff to take care of...oh, and SCHOOL. Lucky me! Mother's day is coming up, too!
and I still have to get my student load in line
and i STILL have a ton of other shit to do

God
damn.

Spa- At least $80, probably more like 100
Airline- $250
Camp- $500
Rum and limes- $40
rent and god knows what else- god knows what

Sometimes, the sixteen hundred or so i can pull in within a few days really, really isnt shit.



I just want to go on vacation.

Moar Metal

The kingdom of sorrow CD was finally released- I have NO idea if it's good or not but I'm excited. Their song "Buried in Black" is particularly brutal. The Children of bodom cd seems like a failsafe option; anything involving blood or the consumption of alcohol is cool, and their album is called blooddrunk. Insant classic material.

In other news im going through a bit of a sleepless spell. I havent slept properly since sunday night. I'm exhausted, but not tired. I see nonexistent movement out of the corner of my eye and the simplest thought processes have come painful. I'm pretty sure my genetics TA thinks I like him. I stayed after class to ask something, and he was talking to me and i totally zoned out and i was just staring at him. I forgot what I asked and I excused myself.

Suspendc is this weekend! Wheeee!

Funny neutrino tale:

Calculations derived from the relationship between the formation of helium and the creation and release of neutrinos in the sun’s photosphere can be used to predict the rate of fusion in the core. However, until the early twenty first century, electron neutrino detectors were only picking up a third of the predicted neutrino flux from the sun, which should have dispersed into space according to the inverse square law. Theoretical physicists applied mathematical reasoning and physics to suggest patterns of neutrino oscillation between electron neutrinos, tau neutrinos, and muon neutrinos; after a certain distance, oscillating neutrino types would become evenly distributed. When new detectors were made that could detect all three types of neutrinos, the predicted neutrino output was measured, verifying the theoretical physicists’ hypothesis.

AND NOW YOU KNOW!

There is so much I wish I could tell you all that I can’t tell anyone. No, not even you, or you, or you. No one. And for that, I am sorry

I once wrote how a secret is like eating something. I used to occasionally take oxycodone for fun, and to escape the mediocrity which generally defines my life. The pills were encapsulated powder, and when I was in too big of a hurry to get water to wash them down with, I would swallow them dry- and the glutenous, dry capsules would stick to my moist esophagus. they would create a painful lump in my throat. it reminded me of times when I would swallow tears when I was being yelled at, or when I swallowed spit in my mouth that accumulated because I was distracted, doing things I would never confess to anyone that I've actually done. Swallowing generally reminds me of secrets. How?

A secret that is truly your own- something no one knows- is the worst thing to ingest. Why?

Because of how sometimes it can get caught in your throat. It makes you choke, you want to spit it up, sometimes you wish it would just go down and not make your eyes water as it slices your esophagus as you swallow.

Then, there are other secrets- secrets people have told you out of fear or loneliness or desperation.They’re honestly not much better, and can have the same uncomfortable effect. Sometimes it can be heavy in your stomach and sometimes it can leave you feeling a tad ill. At the same time, they're also volatile- sometimes it turns out its just little pieces of their life they’ll spurt out to anyone that they happen to be too close to when theyre upset. It's like eating food quickly, and feeling it burn in your stomach, instead of your mouth.

I have those, you have those, it’s ok.

But the secrets you hear that you know you are the sole bearer of the existence of- those are the harder ones. It’s like a piece of meatloaf that sits in your stomach for days that you can feel rotting, or that feeling you get after you gorge on cheap chinese food- bloated, morose.

Whereas your own little secrets you tell no one else (You are sexually attracted to kids? You want a penis? You have a crush on a childhood friend? You facebook old boyfriends late at night? You wish a family member would die?) are like pills swallowed dry or poorly chewed chips. They stick in your throat, they dig in, they bother you for hours at a time. Right now, theyre bothering me for hours at a time.

Once again, I wish I could sleep and will this all away.

For me, sharing most of the things I truly consider to be secrets is the hardest thing on earth. I said once when I was tripping, "I can't tell the truth. I literally can't. So much of what I present to the world is a lie, I am beginning to forget what the truth is." And I am. My life is delicately woven, too much handling of the origin will just cause it to shatter and the whole things to unravel. The fuck-me point of it all is I know the truth of the origin, and I live with the stabbing, all too real shards.

I wish I could share more with you. I want to. I feel like the pieces I have shared have just brought us closer and closer together. I wish I could share more, but....
I really am not a good person.

Headaches

I've been reading a lot of kinky blogs lately and I can’t help but feel a tad inadequate. I don’t wind long strings of words into elegant and meaningful thoughts; I don’t really have insane stories to tell that will keep you on the edge of your computer chair. I suppose I should be sorry, if anyone is reading this.
One thing I know I am sorry about is the (at least temporary) loss of DXS's Rapture event. I love the irony; DC cops won't bother trying to solve a majority of murders, but god damn, if there might be an illegal party, they'd better bust it. I wonder how many pending drug deals they drove by on their way to bust up Rapture? Assholes. This is why I'm libertarian.
But tonight, at least, I'm a bit more colic than usual.
Maybe it was a tad myopic to think polygamous relations are the solution to all of my relationship problems. Passive observation in indicating the silly little notions of possession and apprehension I’m trying to crush in myself may be impossible to exterminate. I am at a stage in my life where I want to literally throw myself into one of the options I have, inhibitions be damned. I am sick of worrying about what could happen, what someone might think, where I should or shouldn't go, all of that stupid sophomoric crap. I want to just jump off the cliff and let him catch me. I want other people to push me off and cheer when I land in his arms, or pick me up if I fall on my face.
I read somewhere once that after having a limb amputated, many people report feeling that a ghost of the limb in still with them. Arm amputees report feeling muscles in their chest twitch when they imagine using their severed limb. After this weekend I have learned what it feels like to be an amputee; I have that dull sense of a missing, intangible limb; I have that twitching in my chest.

In the end, all I know is that I am going to wear his collar to bed, regardless of the significance.

In other news, we could talk about wave equations. I've been learning a lot about quarks lately; including a strange theory about why mass actually has mass, and what makes mass mass in the universe. I'd suggest the book "The God Particle." It's easy enough to read and less technical than wiki. Another science thing that has really been on my mind lately is role of lateral gene transfer in evolution, but I guess I should save something that long and boring for a time I don’t feel like kicking a grandmother in the face, just because.

Goodnight, small world. I'll be posting some great recipes soon, as well as a little bit about my work as a dominatrix, and my first photo shoot. Something to sink your little teeth into.

Answer

Factor out any term with a nine in the denominator from the previous post and you'll find your answer.

Onward- I changed the title of the blog to be a little more accurate- this is indeed a blog about my life, and I consider myself to be (among other things) a type of modern pirate. At the very least, I identify with libertarian and anarchist beliefs, and I am pro piracy. I encourage you to be, too- or at the very least, question the current system our society depends on. That's for another post.

I actually started this blog because so many people insisted I have such an interesting life. At a recent club party, one of my (very drunk) acquaintances leaned into me and said, "God, J, a few months ago you were normal- now look at you. I would read a blog you were writing; you're too goddamn weird for it to be boring." This was amusing to me because I certainly look like a normal, upstanding citizen, but I know I have fairly alternative ideas of fun.

I think the most enjoyable part of having extremely different ideas of what constitutes amusement is being able to blend in perfectly with the rest of society. As much as I can appreciate the fashion and culture of alternative groups- the black and the chains and the eyeliner- I would never, ever embrace it regularly on a personal level. I feel no need to broadcast my quirks on a daily basis, and I don't think many people should. I don't find displays of oddity to be amusing, and in my experience, very few people do find it amusing. If you do, great for you. As part of the rest of society, let me just say I couldn't care less. It makes people seem insecure to me. If you're truly comfortable with whom you are, why try and disturb people or draw attention to yourself by publicly looking different?

Just so you know, my friend said that at a BDSM club, right after I spent a pretty intense few consensual minutes fighting a very large man while he used several tasers and a cattle prod on me. It was awesome.

Song suggestion: "Vulture" by A Life Once Lost. It's a little more metalcore than I am usually comfortable with- Ferret Music carries them, and Ferret usually carries some bad shit- but the brutal opening and fairly unique vocal styling will stick with you. Interesting fact: Randy Blythe of Lamb of God lent vocals to the album- so you know it's at least a little good.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=pYHLjCk39M4

Welcome to my blag

Just down the street little Jenny Nong created her blag (http://www.jennynong.blogspot.com) and I decided to try my hand at writing about what I cared about.

Then I realized that would be one empty blag.

So instead, I'm writing about the next best things: metal, math, and general brutality (brutality shall remain ambiguous so I can write about whatever the hell I want, and I'm gonna).

Just so you know, if you don't know me: Student in America. Hi. Let's get on with it.

What's brutal today? Depleting harmonic series. They were first studied before 1915 and theyre really cool. All terms with a 9 in the denominator/ in decimal representation are excluded from the series. So what happens?

∞

∑ (1/n)

n


Figure it out. Hint? DHS are shown to always converge to a certain value, or less than that value. What is the value? What does this series converge to?
Enjoy. I'll post the answer tomorrow. Theres a good xkcd today, too