‘Tell me about yourself’

First off, my name is pronounced how it’s spelled. It’s not difficult. If you fuck it up numerous times, I have a few choice words for you. And I wonder, did you make it through high school? Nevermind, they’ll let the dumbest idiots graduate not like it makes a difference.

I have no experience in this field at all. I applied to dozens of jobs and I probably won’t remember I applied here. I’m looking for something that pays more. Why? It’s always about money. Although, you know that’s not why I left my last job. That’s complicated. Let’s just say I had enough. And no normal workplace is like that. My current job is not. But obviously, I’m bored and don’t like what I’m doing that’s why I’m looking.

I know you really don’t care who I am or what I do on my free time. You’re just trying to creep and look for clues why I would or wouldn’t be good for the job. Yes, I have boxing gloves in my car, a one year old, and husband. What does that have to do with my abilities? Nothing. It appears I already know English better than your employees. Sooooo…

Words I can’t spell

Ranting about rotten eggs.

What I am for not knowing how to spell arrogant.


Thinking about ham.

Chad’s last name.


Getting a smaller fan to fit in your window.

Dreaming of things that may never happen.


What you came out of the day you were born.

A state.


In some attic.

Your status after a lack of sleep. It’s a song by Aly & AJ, Google it.


Where you go to find pool goggles?

You had to Google all of these words because you’re aggorant.

My writing process

1. Tell myself I’m going to start writing in the afternoon. Nine hours passed… I still got nothing.

2. The times I did sit down in front of a screen… I, eh… Went on Facebook and YouTube. I swear it’s not procrastinating… It’s part of my job to monitor people I can’t stand and make myself deaf with horrible music.

3. Drink ice coffee, eat ice cream, and drink soda… Because I don’t have alcohol and only drink if I know I’m getting sex later. My hand doesn’t count.

4. Question my sexuality and existence in this world.

5. Drink more soft drinks… That is why a Wikipedia website said I was working on putting Root Beer in the universe. Still waiting on that $900,000 net worth they said I have.

6. Type a few words on the screen. Okay not the screen, my cell phone.

7. Wait for more hours to pass… Eventually type a sentence.

Look out for my novel, “Ways I fucked up my life,” in stores 40 years from now.

Psychoanalyzing Literature

I found this on the desktop. Old essay I wrote for a class, I was psychoanalyzing someone. I had some fun with this… commentary trash talk. Don’t shoot me. 


The Vanishing Lady (A story about a lady with an eating disorder?)

In “Never Marry a Mexican,” the narrator, Clemincia, struggles with relationships with her mother, father, and love interest. (She wants to have sex with everyone?) She masks her feelings well as she goes about her secret plan to vanish and deceive. Like her mother, she becomes a “Vanishing lady,” due to “The Name of the Father,” a man. (She wants to have sex with her father?) Clemencia demonstrates her feelings of guilt and anger in symbolic order with metaphors. (What the fuck does that mean? She’s crazy.)

According to Zizek (Who the fuck is Zizek?) we effectively become something by pretending that we are. (Zizek) (Why am I writing names in parentheses, it’s dumb.) The mask we wear in public symbolizes who we really are behind closed door. (What mask? I just don’t want everyone to know who I am fucking.) In “Never Marry a Mexican,” Clemencia’s mother told her that she imagines her father in his fanfarron clothes because that’s what he was. (Don’t marry a Mexican because he likes to fap off? How is that different than any other man on this planet? Fanfarron,” is a metaphor to describe how Clemencia’s father really was. (A drag queen?) He was a fanfarron (flame-thrower?) with his flashy shark-blue suits, tweed topcoat with big shoulders, and heavy British wing tips with a pin-hole design on the heel and toes. (Cisneros) (I get it, he dresses in drag.)“Fanfarron,” is a metaphor to describe how Clemencia’s father really was. (A drag queen?) He was self-conceited, arrogant, and materialistic. (Was? You mean IS?) It wasn’t possible that the mother was happy. The mother ignored his behavior and did nothing about it, she ceased to exist. (I would too if I was his mother.) She became one of those vanishing ladies Zizek would refer too. Vanishing ladies seem to have control over us as they tap into our psyche somehow. They are convincing, irresistible, and ladylike in nature. (Zizek 79) (Zizek wants to have sex with his mother.) 

Clemencia does not think of her mother as ladylike in nature, however. She uses the metaphor “little finch,” (little dick) to transfer her guilt to intend something to be other than what it really is. (Cisneros) She compares her mother to a little finish because she once had one for a pet. She twisted one of its legs off in the bars of the cage. It was still able to live for a long time without it with its little red stump as a leg. (very small dick) After her fathers death, Clemencia’s mother got remarried to a white man with children. (a common boring guy) Clemencia’s mother lived paralyzed for a long time to the extent it affected her mentality. Her memory of her father’s presence is gone and dried up like the bird that lost its leg and lived a long time without it. The reference to the “little finich,” and “red stump,” is also a metaphor to her own life. (She sees a lot of little dicks and very small dicks in her life.) (Cisneros) Clemencia feels small and wounded. (I would too if I was surrounded by dicks with small dicks.) She tries not to miss or feel anything as she remembers not to marry a Mexican man. (She doesn’t want to marry a Mexican man because she fears they have small dicks like white men?) Clemencia’s attitude suggests that the “white man,” is the one to blame for her affair with a married man, Drew. (No she is the one to blame. She doesn’t like small dicks, why does she keep fucking them?) (Cisneros) When really what is to blame is her mother, father, and self.

According to Lacan it is the lack of the, “Name of the Father,” or father in Clemencia’s case, that allows there to be signified, delusional metaphors. (She still wants to fuck her father.) It involves an imaginary couple from the imaginary disaster until the level is reached at the signifier and stabilize. (She fanasties about a man like her father.) (Lacan) The imaginary couple involves a ego-object or ideal-reality where the subject field is from the aggression it carries out. In this case, Clemencia’s ego-object becomes Drew. The ideal-reality becomes her memories of him when he is gone. The subject field in the end is Drew and Megan’s son. How can Clemencia live with herself when she is reminded that she slept with Drew when Megan was pregnant for him? (She has more issues than me. Finally I found someone that does.)

Clemincia tells us about the time Drew called her his Malinalli. (Cisneros) Although it was a joke, it served as a private unconscious game between them. Drew played the role as the “Name of the Father,” while Cleminica played as the “Vanishing lady.” (Now she is pregnant and doesn’t know who the father is.) Drew was the “white man,” Clemincia’s step-father. (She is racist against white people because she calls Drew a white man.) The perfect, idealistic looking man with potential. Cleminica was now the ladylike women in nature. This time she played the role as a phantomlike figure while appearing as a woman he can admire. (Zizek)

Clemincia appeared to be beautiful and ladylike with her coursean and dark skin. Drew, on the other hand, was pale and looked like a Corte with his black beard. As he kissed her he would call her “Mi doradita,” and “Malinche.” (Cisneros) (She wanted to have sex with him because he can say things in a different language.) Clemincia then started to play the role of her mother and Drew played the role of her father. (Foreplay.) In this case, the role of the father is redoubled in the place of the signifier which allows the symbolic order of things to continue. (Lacan 207) Like her mother, Cleminica was not satisfied because the amount of care he showed towards her was not enough. (She wanted more sex.) She wanted the ideal partner and he wasn’t making her feel loved and worthy of living. Cleminica and Drew were a imaginary couple, all in her head. Drew was married to another woman, and they were going to have a baby. (Everyone is whore in this story.) Have he cared it wouldn’t have been that way. He was like her father who cheated on her mother. The relationship between Cleminica’s mother and father was also imaginary. Her mother had no memory of him. He was showing-off in his expensive clothes somewhere distant from her.

Clemincia transfers her anger out on Megan’s son. She believes that her child is nothing without her, created from red spit and red dust. “Red spit,” and “red dust,” is a metaphor for blood. (Cisneros) (No, it’s a metaphor for you’re dead.) They both suggest the symbolic order of thing. Spit is a natural substance from your body. Dust is dirt that can be blown any direction. (She wants to blow Megan’s son.) Clemincia is telling us that she is mad and planning to deceive the boy. She made him by sleeping with his father behind his mother’s back. So he is a “smudge of paint,” that can be revised and tossed aside just as relationships and people. (She wants to change him.) (Cisneros) When it is all done and over she will disappear like her mother and father has in the beginning. (She is extremely fucked up, I still don’t know what she is trying to say.)

In the end, it is clear that Clemincia is a victim. (No, it’s clear she is psycho.) She was cheated on many times by men. Left hurt, bitter, and lonely she learned how to play the game. In order to break the symbolic order of things she has to strike back. That’s not easy when everything is masked in a world that enlists masks, metaphors, and delusions as part of human nature. The way to break nature is to go along with it. (Why because she don’t really care about life or herself?)

What I learned in college

My writing sucks.

It’s confusing, improper, and there’s too many errors. I might as well give up, there is no future being a writer unless I want to live with my mother forever.


I’m not just crazy, I’m clinically crazy now — it’s all your fault.

Anxiety, OCD, manic bi-polar, and narcissistic — all things I WASN’T before but am convinced I am now.


I still have no friends and no one likes me.

I still don’t give a flying fuck.


I’m still not over that one asshole and I’m still dating an asshole.

Think college would change how I secretly wish they’d get their head out of their ass? Well, it didn’t. If anything, the asshole yelling in my face and insulting me triggered me to think about other people.


Not everyone or everything on campus sucks.

There’s a few good people. My definition of good would most likely be the people I danced with. My most positive college experience was dancing.


I will never work in groups again.

It hardly ever ends well.


You still have to pay me for me to say something nice about someone’s work.

I’m sorry, I’m not sorry I can’t be nice or positive about someone’s writing especially when I think they are fake or their writing sucks. I’ll give them comments that aren’t rude — that’s it. I need to be true to myself even if that means not pretending to like someone or something I don’t like.

What my essays really look like…

This is a real essay, I handed in for a grade this year -- after I fixed it... (the citing is also wrong)

Shortly after Elizabeth reads letters sent to her from Jane, Mr. Darcy walks into her house unexpected. He confesses his love towards her and asks her for her hand in marriage. Elizabeth listens calmy and waits for her chance to speak. At first she lets him down easy until he goes as far to offend her because she refused his purposal. They both lose their patientence and get into a huge argument about why she should accept his hand, and Darcy ruining Janes marriage. In the end, Elizabeth wins and Mr. Darcy walks out. Elizabeth is left alone crying with weakness. She is in fact what Darcy put her out to be. The question reminds is if it was pride that did it to her or predjuice?

Elizabeth goes on to say that she has every reason in the world to think badly of him. He can’t escape what he did as it was “unjust and ungenerous.” It is wrong to separate them from each other, putting one of them in misery, instability, and disappointment.

Darcy just stands their smiling to her accusation as if nothing happen. He can’t deny what he has done because he is too proud. He responds, “I have no wish of denying that I did everything in my power to separate my friend from your sister, or that I rejoice in my success. Towards him I have been kinder than towards myself.” He sounds rather civil and does not cliaim to have done anything but rejoice in his sucess in breaking them up. He supposedly went kinder on Bingley than he has himself.

Elizabeth does not say anything to this, she rather stands their with pride. She thinks of Mr. Wickham — what he has to say? Rather or not he could defend himself in this imaginary friendship going on? Darcy notices her thinking and asks him why she has such an eager interest in his concern. She says that it is because of his misfortunes. She accuses Darcy of reducing him lower beneath the proverty line.

Elizabeth says, “You have reduced him to his present state of poverty — comparative poverty. You have withheld the advantages which you must know to have been designed for him.” (Page 125, Elizabeth) Elizabeth is suggesting that Mr. Darcy is the one to blame for Mr. Wickhams poverty. He reduced him for all what he was worth and kept him that way.

Dary is outraged by her opinion of him. he sees that he is igronant about him as well. He does not say anything about Mr. Wickham nor does he deny what she says. He is too proud. Darcy responds by saying, “And this, is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me! I thank you for explaining it so fully. My faults, according to this calcuation, are heavy indeed!” ……… (125. Darcy) He is outraged by her opinion but thanks her for putting it out there. He goes on to say that, “Nor am I ashamed of the feelings I related. They were natural and just. . Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? — to congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidely beneath my own?” (126) So basically, Dary is not ashamed of the feelings he has caused because they were natural. He couldn’t possibly care or be happy about the low-ranked connections she has. Nor could he possibly have hopes for the lower class position when obivously they are beneath him. It is pretty much impossible for Darcy to do anything about Mr. Wickhams life enough to care nor do anything about it.

Elizabeth became even more furious towards Darcy. She says, “You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy, if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affected me in any other way, than as it spared me the concern which I migh have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner.” Darcy is completely wrong in what he said. What he said to Elizabeth has not affected her one bet. She couldn’t possibly show concern in rejecting him when he hasn’t spoken to her like a gentleman — instead of insulting her.

If he made her a better ofer that “would have tempted me to accept it,” than you don’t know how she would have responded. Darcy just stands there puzzled at everything she just said. Elizabeth continues, “From the bery beginning — from the first moment, I may almost say — of my aquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.” (PAGE 126. ELIZABETH) From the very moment he askes her to marry him, his manners impressed her — with his level of aggorance. They did not convience her to marry him. They rather, worked against him.

Darcy accepts the fact she will not marry him and walks out. He says that she said quiet enough and he understands her feelings. He is ashamed of his own. He appoligzes and leave, wishing her the best for her health and happiness.
Elizabeth sat down and cried for an half-hour alone. She knew not how to support herself. She should recieve an offer of marriage from Mr. Darcy. That he should have been in love with her for many month. So much in love as to wish to marry her in spite of all the objections which had mde him prevent his friend from marrying her sister, and show up to her house with an equal force in his own to marrying her to show his strong affection towards her. But his pride, in not admiting what he has done with respect to Jane has held him back. He could not anknowledge it, justify it, or explain the cruel mannerism towards Mr. Wickham that he had not attempted to deny.

By Elizabeth saying this, she is suggesting he feels obligated to marry her given her circumstances and apperciate the fact that he purposed to her. Though In reality, Elizabeth has never desired him nor liked his opinion. She feels that he feels the same for her, which is why she says it “will only last for a short period,” meaning that he will get over it fast because he does not love her.

She needs to marry him because she is “uncivil,” not a civlized person because she is single and lower class. Instead of asking Elizabeth about her feelings or reasoning for denying his hand in marriage in the first place, he defended his position with pride.

He wouldn’t know rather or not her feelings have been “indifferent, or had they been favourable.” Darcy wouldn’t be able to tell if Elizabeth liked or didn’t like him. In addition to not questioning her about her reasoning or feelings, he did not take into consideration the fact that he ruined her sister, Janes’ marriage.

Source: Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen

INs & UNs: Mirrored words.
































Questioning a “Creative Writer”

What are you writing about?
I’m writing about mirrors.


What’s next drugs?
Already did. Right now I’m writing a screen script with an alcoholic/pot head.


You’re messed up.
I know, and you aren’t?


I’m special — there’s a difference. What’s your excuse?
Shitting your pants doesn’t count as “special”.


It takes a lot of talent.
I bet it does.


What else do you do?
I workout. I dance. I run. I paint. I take pictures. What am I supposed to do? Sit around on my laptop all day?


That’s what writers do.
Maybe the very sad, lonely ones.


That’s when you start to take drinking up.
Why bother?


I don’t know. You should. Maybe you would be more social.
How is that social?


Go to bars, see people.
I do that already. I’m fine —


You need —
I don’t need anything.


I just want to be happy.


Yeah, okay.