Coming Of Age - Blog Posts

Bloody Tears

It was a bit tricky, but I challenged myself to make a line less art drawing only using one color pallet. I guess this kind of reflects how I’ve been feeling as of late with my 18th birthday coming up this weekend, and I’m not ready to be an adult yet… I’m not ready for my childhood to be over…

So thinking about NaNoWriMo stuff, I think I know what I want to write.

I'm going to write a novel about a girl with a very silly name (Jane Dogfood) who starts a mess of a podcast where she interviews the people around her about their life experiences and discovers who she is as she explores how she does/doesn't relate to the people she interviews.

While it is a coming of age story, a lot of focus will be developing these characters and exploring their life experiences, possibly in a "story within a story" sort of way

Just found out that Judd Nelson was 26 filming The Breakfast Club, my life is OVER

Photos arrived🌼

My kimono 👘 is so good 🌼🎀☺️

Growing Up

You are three asking your mother when will you be four / You are four and full of life and cartwheels / You are five and love everything other than the unbearably flashy rhinestone dress / You are six and scrawny which also translates to being an easy target to bullies / You are six and you befriend the guy who locked you in the playground because he wanted to see a little girl cry but instead, you climbed over a wall three times higher than you / You laughed in his face as his friends ran away, scared of a little girl kicking their asses / Why am I always small? Why do I always have to be strong? / You are seven and great at skating / You are seven and you used the word upside-down when reading Tom Sawyer and you are so proud of yourself for knowing it / You are eight and love life / You are eight and you love life / You are eight and love life / You are eight and you love books and travel and that one time you walked out of the train station when dawn was just breaking / You saw the prettiest sky of your life; a sky so blue and so dark and so light that it stole the drowsiness right from your eyes / I know you still wake up early in hopes that the sky will one day walk down the memory lane with you / You are nine and you swear the house is so big you will get lost here / You imagine playing hide and seek for hours on end here; swear that you almost forgot where the rooms go / You are ten and the house is not so big anymore / It is full of life and things / You are always somewhere / There is a summer there I spent visiting the hospital / I don’t quite remember now / Hospitals sometimes start to feel like home now / Eleven is a happy blur: I love everyone and everyone loves me / Eleven is happiness: I knew everyone and everyone admired me / Twelve is blue and black; there were moments I lived through that I never knew I would miss / Thirteen is a lot of carrying friendships I don’t like / Fourteen is a lot of sighs of relief; of friendships left behind and the year of growing before everything goes to shit / Fifteen is a lot of fun and not remembering things that hurt us; things that haunt us / Fifteen is fun and shenanigans with newfound friends you like enough / Sixteen is hard work / Sixteen is a lot of fighting and sometimes fun / Sixteen is for the bitch face and cuts / Sixteen is a lot of wondering what you’ve become / Sixteen is fake friends and smiles which will ruin you / Sixteen is the year of silly crushes on boys who think the world revolves around them / Sixteen is a lot of “I am almost an adult” / Sixteen is for parties and the time your life was as perfect as those IT kids in the movies / Sixteen is a lot of cold air on your face and feeling this city become home / Seventeen is for survival / Seventeen is for keeping your head down / Seventeen is for breakdowns / Seventeen is the time you snap and take a stand / Seventeen is having your own back / Seventeen is very alone but that’s okay / Seventeen is a lot of cussing and spiraling / Seventeen is for the nightmares / Seventeen is for closures / Seventeen is survival / Seventeen is for the big fuck you which is never said / Seventeen is for winning / Seventeen is for winning / Seventeen is so many goddamn wins / Seventeen is a big fuck you that escapes as a smile / Eighteen is relief / Eighteen is the growing up that sneaks up on you / Eighteen is acceptance / Eighteen is so much happiness / Eighteen is how everything is okay and everything is home / Eighteen is the year of being childish and loving it / Eighteen is a lot of love and happiness / Eighteen is a goddamn dream / Eighteen is doing everything you love and telling it to its face / Eighteen is dreams come true / Eighteen is growing up and growing up and being okay with it / Eighteen leaves with patience / Eighteen is a lot of learning to stay / Eighteen is fading yet forever / I am always going to be eighteen in some parts /

Review: The Spectacular Now (2013)

Rating: 9.0 of 10

Sutter Keely (Miles Teller) was a party boy who met and fell in love with plain, average girl, Aimee Finicky (Shailene Woodley). The plot just writes itself, really, but it was what happens between them and how they happen that makes the movie shine above others. First and foremost, what makes this movie unique for me was the portrayal of high school that was devoid of the typical high school stereotypes. Cliques weren't in wars against other cliques, people actually treat others nicely, girls don’t get makeovers, the ex weren't an insufferable b*tch, and Sutter—one of the most popular kid in the school—could still be a joke. Basically, the kids were portrayed as human beings. The Spectacular Now has the courage to let story and characters be the drama the movie needs, instead of milking cheap stereotypes.

The Spectacular Now really is not teen movie (it's actually R-rated), rather it's a well-made drama that is incidentally set in the teenage years. While it has an assuring amount of sweet scenes, for me The Spectacular Now is mostly just a coming-of-age story instead of a full-on love story. The film was mostly told from the perspective of Sutter and how his life changed throughout his time with Aimee. We don't really see Aimee's life or her point of view (what's up with the drinking?), and for once I'm actually okay with that. Aimee is definitely not a one-dimensional character though—we certainly have a firm grasp of what her character really is about—we just don't get to see the details of her life and that's okay. This is Sutter's story, and that's enough.

The thing that propels this movie is definitely the rich, sweet chemistry between the actors. Miles Teller's Sutter exudes this good-natured charisma and relatability, with equal amounts of effervescence and anguish, and self-destruction, while Woodley's Aimee was pure, unconditional, and unrestricted—that was actually the bane of their relationship. Even the supporting characters were perfect, giving the right amounts of pathos to each of their characters: Brie Larson, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Kyle Chandler, and Bob Odenkirk. They were all understated but memorable, especially Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Sutter's older sister with a mysterious tumultuous past with the family. The movie itself was pretty slow with relatively little drama, but layers and layers of characterization like that makes a worthwhile viewing experience.

TL;DR A teen-focused movie like no other, The Spectacular Now provides lovely, tender antidote to our otherwise cynical lives.

watching coming of age movies to reinstall my love for living

pretty much sums my life decisions 

The modern day coming of age story starts with renouncing the things you loved as a kid for being for babies and ends with you learning to love them again

“Shrinking in a corner, pressed into the wall; do they know I'm present, am I here at all? Is there a written rule book, that tells you how to be— all the right things to talk about— that everyone has but me? Slowly I am withering— a flowered deprived of sun; longing to belong to— somewhere or someone.”

― Lang Leav, Love & Misadventure

I don't get it. If you don't like me, just say it instead of being passive-aggressive and rude only to me in front of all my friends. It's not only embarrassing for me but also for you.

It's true that you must leave behind the old to welcome the new. But make sure you bring into the future the best of you.

Rebirth means parting with fragility Relinquish in place of the unknown However tumultuous or composed Controlled sacifice for betterment

wpm

“You’re not tied up, here comes the train

the tracks feel safe because you know ‘em

And if you stay it’s going to hurt much worse

you’ll still be left behind…”

.

.

.

Funeral by Tele Novella

Social Suicide

My life is worthless to you, small and insignificant yet you try so hard to extinguish me. I come out as a furry in high school you say:

Social Suicide

My heart sinks. Have I thrown everything away? Is it my fault I'm a furry? My fault I'm an outcast? My fault I'm autistic? My fault im depressed...its so silly, spoken aloud. My problems, clouds. Soft and dreamy, just a little less sun and im weak and weary...

Social Suicide

They are your words, not mine. So worried of others that you've already died. Maybe you are the one who has killed oneself to fit in? I had no friends then, but when will you have a true friend when your already dead?

Social Suicide

You were just trying to warn me, however misguided...why cant we be carefree...why must we die to belong, to belong inside our own homes, found families, find our own roads? Why can't i let you go? Why cant i commit?

Social Suicide.

A Liar's Truth

author:

internetpistol (orphan_account)

summary: In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

The Becoming

Chapter 1

I’ve always lived in Marland. It’s just been me and my father until he married my stepmother, Ruby. He thought it would be good for me to have a stepmother. Maybe it would quell the aching need to know my true mother. I wish I could say that it did help, but it didn’t. I still wonder who my true mother is and why she left me. 

It’s around midnight, early Sunday, when I am woken up by a blinding pain in my abdomen. It’s like small fireworks pulsing through my body. As I sit up, there’s an unmistakable feeling. Did I wet the bed? I look down in the shadows and I can see the dark color of red coating a small spot on the bed, along with my thighs. 

I cover my mouth quickly. I need to tell Father. What would he think? Will he be disgusted by the blood? Maybe I should tell Ruby instead. Hopefully she’s still up, more than likely sitting in her chair and smoking a cigarette. 

Walking down the stairs quietly, I peer into the open door of my father’s room. There he is, fast asleep, a small glass of mostly empty whiskey on the bedside table as it usually does on late Saturday nights. 

I glance around the hallway wall and see my stepmother predictably sitting in her rocking chair, smoking a cigarette. 

“Bonnie?” 

“Yes, step mother?” 

“Come here a moment,” she says softly, beckoning me with a gentle hand. 

I step out of the dim corridor, and her watchful eyes notice the blood on my nightgown. She beckons me closer still, and takes my hand, still studying me. 

“Bonnie, you know what this means don’t you?” 

“My becoming party is soon?” 

“Yes Bonnie, your becoming party.”

Putting out her cigarette, Ruby stands and leads me to the bathroom by the parlor. More specifically, the bathroom farthest away from my sleeping father. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll teach you how to use a sanitary napkin,” Ruby says, starting the water for the bath. In the soft yellow light of the bathroom I can get a better look at Ruby’s youthful face.

I remember when she married my father, in the spring after her becoming party. She was inconsolable on the wedding day, her mother couldn’t stop the fearful tears. She was thirteen then.

“I know this must be scary. I was afraid when I got my first cycle too, but it’s not so bad. You’ll have your becoming party, and then you’ll be a woman.” 

“I don’t want to get married in the spring,” I say stubbornly. I just had my twelfth birthday, and by my thirteenth I’ll be married. 

“You’ll change your mind soon enough,” she responds, her voice sure and firm. “Make sure not to stay in the bath too long, you’re going to have a big day tomorrow. 

I knew Ruby was right about having a long day when I saw my father finishing off two fingers of whiskey on a Sunday morning. 

“Good morning Bonnie.”

“Good morning father,” I responded. Maybe he knows. Did Ruby already tell him? Is that why he’s drinking whiskey an hour before his sermon?

I smooth my hands over my church dress as I get a knowing look from Father. 

“I’ll announce your becoming party after the sermon. How does Saturday sound?” He asks as if I have a choice in the matter for when my becoming party is. 

“Isn’t Saturday a little soon?” 

“No,” he says with a sense of finality. 

I nod, knowing there’s nothing else to do but give in. 

The smell of the church is something I’ve become familiar with. It’s dusty and thick, and the stained glass of the windows sweep across the floor. The air is warm and humid outside, making the church seem to swell with the heat. 

Sometimes late at night I’ll dream that the church is alive. I can hear its deep rasping breaths from my bedroom window, and I can smell the sweat and tears seeping through the cracks of the bricks. “Set me free,” it begs.

As my Father’s sermon drones through my ears, I continue to think about my becoming party. Talking about a becoming party with married or betrothed girls is strictly forbidden. I have no clue what to expect. I can only think the worst. Human flesh as food, and being the center of attention flash through my mind when I hear my father mention my name.

“My beautiful Bonnie’s becoming party will be this Saturday. A becoming party is such an exciting moment in each girl’s life, and I know that Bonnie will be a great wife to one lucky man.” 

I feel shame start to rise up my neck as the church begins to clap. I can feel their eyes on me, and it makes the shame on my neck start to fester and ache as it creeps up to my cheeks and my ears. 

I stand up, and start to make my way out of the sanctuary, a woman stops me. I realize this isn’t just any woman, it’s my teacher from school, Ms. Evelyn. 

“How are you feeling?” She asks, resting her hand on my back. 

“I feel fine.” This isn’t a total lie. Although the pain is still radiating from my toes all the way to my head, I really do feel fine. It’s not like I’m constantly wondering when I need to change this sanitary napkin, and praying for the pain to go away. It’s not like I have my becoming party on Saturday where a bunch of men will try to impress my father for my hand. 

“Are you sure? I remember when I had my first visit from Aunt Flo, I was terrified,” Ms. Evelyn laughs, but I don’t. 

“What changed? Why weren’t you terrified anymore?” I try not to make my voice sound too eager. From the surprise flipping to a knowing look on Ms. Evelyn’s face I know I failed. 

“Well, I thought of my cycle as God telling me I was ready to be a woman.”

“What if God is wrong?” Maybe I said that too loud. Ms. Evelyn pauses a moment before leaning in close to me. 

“Bonnie, all will be well in time. There will always be a guiding hand for you.” 

I fight the urge to say something sharp, and I give a tight lipped smile. “Thank you Ms. Evelyn, I should get going now.” 

She gives a kind pat on my back, and sends me on my way. I look around to the group of churchgoers in the sanctuary, and the only person still sitting is Ruby. 

Sometimes I wonder if she came out with a full head of Ruby hair, and that’s why her name is Ruby. I can always spot her from a crowd, her confidence and command of respect can clear a room. 

I look on the other side of the room and see my father, still talking to the Deacon, and by what I can tell they’ll be talking for a while. 

I find my way to Ruby’s spot and sit down beside her. She’s got a blank look on her face, cold and detached, making her look older than she is. “Stepmother?” 

Ruby gives a noncommittal hum, and her eyes slowly drag to meet mine. “Yes, Bonnie?” 

“Can I borrow one of your dresses for my becoming party?” Although I am not excited at the prospect of a mysterious becoming party, the idea of wearing one of Ruby’s dresses is appealing to me. 

Ruby gives me a weak smile and rubs my arm. “Your father will buy your becoming dress, Bon Bon.” 

The nickname is not lost on me, it’s something she always tried to say when she felt I needed comforting. I rest my head on her shoulder and she wraps an arm around me. 

“I’m pregnant, Bonnie.”