Weekly Update

So right...

I find I'm starting a lot of posts with those words, the important posts anyways. Maybe it's just me. This week's been OK. So much to say, where do I start?

( Ambrosia )

( Search for More Books )

( My Doppleganger )

( Wounded Dove )

Vector: quix

A rant about sexism.
I think this is worth reading. Shows a decent picture of some of the sort of things I'm fighting against, and apparently I'm not alone on this one.

Sold Addresses

You know, I always though it was the case that my school sold our email addresses.
Now I'm sure it's the case: I've gotten three emails in three days where the only recipients have addresses @cua.edu.
That's too much of a coincidence to be, uhm, coincidence.

On Being Catholic

Quiet today...
I mentioned a couple days ago that This Guy was going to throw me into a rage. Thinking about it now, I don't like that I got as angry as I did -- I don't like ever getting angry, least of all to a point where I might lose control -- but some things just really get under my skin.

I am Roman Catholic. I have a reputation for my religious convictions, and to nearly everyone who knows me it's anything but a secret. I'm generally a very tolerant person, which some people seemed surprised at given my religious affiliation; I won't go into that little barb, at least not at the moment. Suffice it to say that I may disagree with what you believe or how you behave or the priorities you have in life, I may often give you my opinion on the topic, and I'm quick to offer my own advise on how one should conduct oneself -- but in the end, I'm generally respectful of the choices one makes for themselves, so long as they understand my position on it and are respectful to me.

One thing that I can not abide though, and is a particular which very well may speak to a greater universal, is people who claim to be Catholic but really are not. And it should be a pretty obvious thing as to why -- one doesn't say one is a vegan and regularly eat sirloin steaks and scrambled eggs. One doesn't say they're for animal rights and then routinely kick their dog. One doesn't speak out against bullying, only to turn around and be the bully. It's hypocrisy -- if you are not of a given class, do not claim to be so.

But this goes even beyond simple hypocrisy. Catholics are notorious for not knowing their faith. And in great part, I think we're very bad, generally, in training our children and teaching them exactly what it means when they say they're a Catholic. I was disappointed when, at age 16, I went through a Confirmation course which did nothing at all for me or the other confirmandi, and further disappointed with the other students lack of caring at all. They went through the motions when appropriate, but it didn't mean anything to them. That was when I decided I would be better than that, that I would study the faith and be sure I knew what I was committing myself to, and that I wouldn't be just another ignorant Catholic.

People like this guy and many of the students in my Confirmation class give the rest of us Catholics a bad name -- and we don't need their help, because many people already have misgivings about the Church as it is. You can't say "I'm a Catholic, but some of the basic teachings are wrong." You can't do that. And it pisses me off when people try. I have FAR more respect for someone who can, even after being raised from birth as Catholic, admit that they do not believe and thus are no longer Catholic. At least they're being honest with themselves and others, and they aren't trying to twist things to their liking. I wish them luck in their search for truth, even if I think they've just left it, because at least they're searching. I can't stand the other sort of person, because they aren't searching, they're posing as something they're not, and disgracing the rest of us for it.

I'm afraid I haven't been very articulate about what pisses me off here. If you're not Catholic, don't claim to be one. If you don't believe the doctrines, or the Pope's teachings, or what-have-you about the faith -- first, I would suggest you study up on it, and learn not just the Whats of the faith, but the Whys as well. If that doesn't work, find something else that does, but don't pretend like you can cut and paste the faith to be whatever makes you comfortable. That's not Catholicism.

Angel Tears

Nicholas Emerson trudged up the muddly hillside, his footing uneasy on the rain-slick grass and mudflows, holding his thin jacket tight with one and, the other hand stuffed deep into his pocket, idly fingering a single quarter. The rain fell like shards of glass, and the wind whipped around him threatening to knock him back down to his car, parked on a pathway that wound around the hill at about it's midpoint. Nicholas trudged up the hill, but he wasn't himself; he hadn't been himself for quite sometime. His speech and mannerisms were the same, his memories were as clear as ever, but the one who rode behind his eyes was Tariel, an ancient creature cast into Hell by God Himself at the dawn of time. Nicholas had been at his weekest when Tariel, free of an ever-weakening prison, found him. He still had a purplish scar around his neck where he'd hung himself. Nicholas and Tariel crested the top of the hill, the sky a low cieling of roiling black clouds. He wiped sopping bangs out of his face as he staggered the last couple steps to fall on his knees by the single gnarled oak that crowned this high hill, overlooking the small township below. Tariel had been driven by hate and torment when he found Nicholas, but something inside him struck Tariel like a physical blow. Even hanging by his neck in the depths of despair, Nicholas had something to live for: Olivia. Nicholas had loved her; he had hung himself feeling she could never love him in return, but he had loved her. And Tariel had latched onto the love, had managed to climb out of his own pit. Nicholas had given him a reason to live, and he did. Together, the worked to fufil both their dreams. Now, there was no torment. Nor were there dreams, or hope, or even love. Kneeling in the mud next to the smooth black headstone, there was only a deep, aching emptiness. Running dirty fingers over the stone slab, letter etched into it's marbled surface. Olivia Anne Emerson, 1973 - 2014. Nicholas, Tariel, wept, warm tears mixing with frigid rain on the man's face. He was soaked now, not even bothering to hold his jacket closed. "I am twice damned." Tariel croaked out through a sore throat, his voice hardly audible over the wind. "I was once and Angel; I saw the creation of the world itself. I saw the first sunrise. I was once a beast, unable to see beyond his own pain, locked in a dark, silent prison for a crime I no longer even remember. I was once a desperate man, a man who felt he had no options left. And then we were happy; then, we had you. You saw in us what neither of us could see in ourselves. You would have us be together always." Tariel slammed his fist into the hard stone with a cracking sound, though whether of bone or stone he neither knew nor cared; his hand was already numb from the wind and rain. "He cast me into the pit, and now he's taken you from me!" Tariel felt his rage rising, felt the old bitter hatred again... And he pushed it back down, straining with the effort. He slumped against the stone, exhausted. "I am proud of what we were. I don't want to become that beast again, that desperate man, not when I've come so far. But I'm done. There is nothing left, no pain, no feeling." He lay there against the stone for a very long time.

(no subject)

I'm tired, scared, alone.
I don't even want to think about my feelings for Suzannah.
I want to curl up in a dark place and not have to think about anything right now.
I want to cry.

This shouldn't be locked, but it will be.
I just don't want to feel weak right now.
And if I lock thins, I can pretend it isn't common knowlege.
I pretend that a lot, actually.