The Ashaverse

You Are 60% "Average American"

You are average because you drink on occasion. You are not average since you live more than three miles away from McDonalds.

Your Heart Is Green

Love completes you, but that doesn't mean you seek it out. When love comes your way, you integrate it peacefully into the rest of you life. Your flirting style: Laid back Your lucky first date: Walking around aimlessly and talking Your dream lover: Is both enthusiastic and calm What you bring to relationships: Balance

I just broke a window.
My parents were off to hear a marching band concert andI walked outside to jump on my new trampoline, thinking the door I walked out of was unlocked from the outside. Was I ever wrong. When I walked back, it was locked. I tried the other door. That one was locked too. I howled in rage, cursed a few times, and looked to see if the garage was open. It too was closed. I tried every door on the house, and every last one was locked.
I was barefoot and not dressed for the weather, and it was chilly out. My mom didn't have her cell phone with her, and my parents wouldn't be back until late at night. I didn't want to be outside on a cold night wearing no shoes, flimsy bondage pants and a tank top.
"I could always break a window," I thought. So I did.
I chose one my parents wouldn't miss--it was a small one leading into the basement. I took a sizeable rock and hurled it at the glass, which shattered, and then poked away the sharp shards with a stick. I crawled through, cursing my idiocy and hoping my parents wouldn't haul me in to the police station for property destruction.
Obviously, I'm back in the house now, and I feel like the biggest dumbass in the history of the world.

The following series of poems is in humorous reference to Dana and I, in the style of Brownie Seasons (I think that's the title.)
I absolutely love taking religious jargon and using it for my own enjoyment.
Monday--Pride
~*~*
On monday when the week begins
The Psychos do prepare for sins
They feel their hearts swell in their chests
It feels so good to be the best
They know that they are never wrong
And set themselves above the throng
You disagree? You're out of luck
Cause everything they don't like sucks.

Tuesday--Envy
~*~*~
On Tuesday, early morning brings
A want for other people's things
So jealous are the psychos two
Forget about the "good" and "true"
If not for other people's stuff
How would their own things measure up
And how would our two psychos know
What things they want before they go?

Wednesday--Wrath
~*~*~
On Wednesday when they've finished work
The Psychos go and pop their cork
So many hard objects are hurled
They scream, "we hate the fucking world!"
This place has given them both hell
So now they stop to scream and yell
A primal bloody-throated feast
On pent-up anger's sweet release.

Thursday--Sloth
~*~*~
On Thursday when the schedule packs
The Psychos take time to relax
They lie around in one great heap
And want no more than peaceful sleep
They snooze without a care and shirk
Their droning boring busy work
There must be pollen in the air
Because the Psychos do not care.

Friday--Greed
~*~*~
On Friday when the week is through
The Psychos know just what to do
They count their cash, they close the door
And go out to buy even more
And after their great shopping spree
They strut their stuff with greater glee
For people die but goods live long
And self-indulgence isn't wrong. (author's note--that was not sarcasm.)

Saturday--Gluttony
~*~*~
On Saturday when rush is beat
The Psychos only fuck and eat
They hang off of each other's lips
And act conjoined right at the hips
They ravage through the pantry drawer
And fall back into bed to score
They push the bounds of food and sex
When Saturday is spelled, "X-S."

Sunday--Lust
~*~*~
On Sunday when the people pray
The Psychos gladly spend the day
Seeking pleasure, every kind
So what if it makes sore behinds
And queasy stomachs, we're quite stout
And this is what life's all about
To live and laugh and have a try
To everything beneath the sky.

So when the week is said and done
The Psycho's have had so much fun
Their way of life may seem corrupt
But yes indeed, it's well lived up
So take my word, heed my advice
When one condemns your life as "vice"
Remember it's your life to live
And deadly sins are relative.

--A Raisin In The Sun: At first it annoyed me to death because the characters reminded me of people in my life who got on my nerves, but after a while it began to be a fascinating account of life through the eyes of a struggling african-american family. It did reinforce my prejudice concerning the poor and african-americans (I have to admit) but it was interesting anyhow.
--The Sociology of Mental Disorders: Why do all intellectual-type books HAVE to be written in verbose stuffy language intimidating to the common american? I am fortunate enough to be accustomed to egghead speech, but the general populace isn't. It makes me sad to think of all the finer points lost on the everyday citizen due to the jargon it's written in. What good is a message that's not heard? If publishers don't think a book has any substance if it's not written in professorial "eenglish", then what type of institution are we dealing with?!
The book itself was very interesting, but very close to home. It made me feel uncomfortable in a good way, and it's giving me a lot of ideas.
--Beloved: It's not the best book on earth, but it has enough pathos, supernatural occurences and taboo descriptions to keep me interested. It's fun to read. It's not great literature, but it's very enjoyable. I will never think of shucking corn the same way again.

My Review of A Raisin In The Sun
--This play is about a poor black family, their hopes, their dreams, their flaws and their limits. The main theme centers around each character trying to improve their lot in life. When they find out they are going to recieve a substantial amount of money, each person wants to do different things with it. It ends up being lost in a dangerous investment plan made by Walter Lee Younger (one of the main characters), and the end is bittersweet as Walter Lee and his wife Ruth finally move out of their cramped apartment, even though their family will never be the same.
A Raisin In The Sun is skillfully written, using metaphors, clever realistic dialogue, and emotion on several levels. As for readability--it isn't too convoluted or simple, but a balance between the two, which makes it very readable to pretty much anyone, assuming they can catch the finer points. The deeper meanings are what make this a classic play, and the range of emotion can be very cathartic to some. I would not recommend this play to the prejudiced, because it will be very off-putting to those types, but for those who can look past their own issues, this is a wonderful, emotional, heart-wrenching drama of dreams deferred, dreams fought for, and, in the end, dreams hard-earned.

This tuesday the bitchies asked me what I wanted out of therapy. I told them I felt like the empathy work felt like a road block on the way to working on basic life skills, like balancing a checkbook, cooking and doing my laundry. I asked them why they weren't working with me on them anymore, and they told me it was because I "acted like I wasn't interested" or something. I actually was interested, very interested, but they said it didn't sound so because every time they tried to teach me something new, I apparently lashed out at them verbally and "put them on the recieving end of my sadism." It was the same with art class--I acted like it didn't matter to me, but it did. In short, I lost my options because acted like I didn't care, and like they were a waste of time. Even though I didn't really feel that way, my reactions made my therapists think I didn't give a damn. I shouldn't have acted in a way contrary to how I really felt.
Why do I do this? Why do I fuck everything up for myself? Is it because I'm punishing myself for something deep inside, or is it just a lack of emotional adeptness?
Maybe it's both.
About the first option--self-punishment. I'm not really a masochist, so why do I do this to myself? I know that I have a purpose, a huge purpose and the potential to make a big mark on the world. Dana has even said so. I also know that I have another edge to my potential.
This edge has a sadistic, angry, criminal, vengeful, sociopathic aspect to it, and could very well shape my ambitions into something corrupt, so to speak. I know I have this side, and it is very much alive. It even had a name once. I'm guessing that early in my life I realized this and put up another side of me with a puritanical conscience to balance out my ugly side. This puritanical side also thinks that I do not deserve to be special in any way.
The other part to my self-sabotage is my lack of emotional skill. Sometimes the words that come out of my mouth are far from the way I meant them to sound. I'm thinking this stems from my lack of empathy, which I in fact do need to improve and I know it. I've been a complete jackass for so long thinking that empathy and sympathy were the same thing. This defecit makes it hard for me to know what other people will percieve when I say things. It's not only one's words that make speech--it's the tone and manner in which it's said. My lack of ability to relate to others in this way creates a big gap between the thoughts I put into words, and the way people hear them. It's a sad thing that I could be saying that I love someone and have it come out sounding like an insult, to use an extreme example.
In short, I'm not having life skills classes anymore because I self-sabotaged, which was caused by an instinct to punish myself and a lack of empathy. In the meanwhile, I can prove that I can handle life skills classes by making empathetic progress, keeping up on my schoolwork, and staying at the life skill level I'm already at. I also plan to try my hand at a few life skill-related tasks on my own, asking my mom politely for help if I need it. For example, I might try to make a veal parmesan patty on my own, and ask my mom how long it needs to be in the toaster, or I might ask if I can mow the lawn or shovel snow in the winter.

I saw the movie last night, and this is my verdict.
It was so STUPID that it was AWESOME. There was constant high-adrenaline over the top action, and enough violence and gore to make it a sadist's sugar high. Of course, the factor that made it even more awesome was Johnny Depp, playing Agent Sands. Sands was so slimy and psychopathic that he was ultimately loveable in a funny way, and that's why Johnny Depp is such a great actor--he can make the most irredemable characters interesting.
There weren't really any "good guys" in the movie. Everyone had their own agendas and plans, and there was so much double-crossing that everyone was against everyone by the end, pretty much. There were some plot holes and a LOT of unrealism but it was enjoyable because it was so stupid and violent for the hell of it. Enjoying this movie is like enjoying an Eminem cd--it's really dumb and senslessly agressive, but those same reasons make it fun.

Three Arguments
By Rayah Newman

Earlier in the week I presented three ideas that could be seen as controversial.
They first appeared in my mind in the early hours of the morning, while I had a headache that hasn't gone away since and a sore throat. I felt horrible, and I had been thinking about societal morals the day before. That night had been a sleepless night, giving me time to stew over the angry thoughts in my mind. I was already irate from my illness, and even more so due to my sleep deprivation.
I had been experimenting with the core morals of human society, taking them and flipping them upside down, turning them inside out until I had an alien, perverted philosophy. The thoughts that ran through my mind were full of equal parts rage and pensiveness. I wondered about the universal prohibition of killing other humans, the taboo of pedophilia, and what is in general "right" and "wrong" in every human society.
I came up with a distorted, half-formed philosophy using an example of a fictitious twenty-year old. This man had a consensual sexual relationship with a seven year old, stole from expensive chain stores, and killed people whose lives were wasted or were in pain, or wanted to die. I talked to my mom about this in the car, and she deconstructed my theory completely. I realized that my ideas were ridiculous, and I was embarrassed to have even thought anything so stupid. Or did I? Maybe, if I define these opinions in a better-thought out manner, they might hold some water. I am going to argue both sides of all three arguments so you can decide for yourself along the way, although I will state my personal final decision at the end.

Pedophilia is generally seen as comparable to soul murder, and pedophiles are among the most reviled criminals in this society. Children are not ready for sexual contact before certain ages, and pedophiles disregard this, damaging the child in question's psyche sometimes irreparably. My mother said that it was impossible for a seven year old to have a consensual sexual relationship with anyone, much less with a person of twenty. This may be true, but wasn't Dolores Haze from Nabokov's novel around that age, and wasn't Humbert older than twenty? Lolita seemed to actually be the more dominant partner in the end, while she manipulated the devil out of Humbert, while he idolized her in a certain way. But it was only a book, right? Some books are based on possible fact, but in general, it is true that seven year olds are not sexual in that way.
The question also arises, if the younger one was older than seven, and were anywhere from ten to fifteen, would they be capable of having a consensual sexual relationship with someone twice their age? Seven is a bit young, but around puberty these things become possible. Speaking from personal experience, when I was around thirteen, I fantasized about having sex with people about ten years older than me AND ten years younger than me. Even at this age, I wouldn't mind if I had a girlfriend in her twenties. When I was much younger than seven, I got naked with a friend and we touched each other's privates. It is true that children are sexual, but the degree and manifestation varies from child to child. However, children in general do not want sexual contact with adults.

On the issue of stealing-it really doesn't solve anything. It's a cop out way of protesting big business and it makes things harder for the people who can't shop anywhere else. If someone really wanted to do something about big business, they should protest, or shop at independently owned stores, not steal things from overpriced chain stores. But sometimes protest rallies don't work, and sometimes the little stores go out of business anyway. In this case I think it would be justified to steal when there are no more independently-owned stores in the area. If enough people stole from the stores that wiped out the independents, then those stores would go bankrupt, and little stores would go back into business. I only think stealing from big business is right when there are no other options.

Killing people is seen as a universal "no-no." From the days of the ten commandments on, taking human life is seen as one of the worst things anyone can do. I can understand its significance in the days when humans needed to multiply like rabbits to survive. Now that the world is overpopulated with broken souls, people in constant pain, and those who can't stand living anymore, a few people off the face of this earth would do a lot of good. I agree that it wrong to kill people who aren't ready to die, but for those who are, I think they should have a right to die, just as much as those who want to live have a right to live. This issue is hotly debated, or so I hear. Dr. Kevorkian brought this issue into the spotlight when he helped people commit assisted suicide. Some people consider it murder, but I define murder as killing someone who isn't willing to die.

When I came up with these challenges to universal morals, I didn't think through them well enough. Now that I think about it more clearly, these things make more sense, and would actually work in the world. I can't say that anything is completely right or wrong, because it depends on the factors that surround the situation. Though some things are generally not a good idea, there are exceptions to every rule.

I hate the fucking world.
It's full of hypocrisy, lies, exaggerations and force-fed, oversimplified morals. There's nothing real or true in this existence, only what people say is real and true. If enough people say something is right, people will believe it. Look at judaism and christianity--they started as (very self-righteous) ideas that not everyone bought into. Now the whole planet, almost, is ruled by a religion that is fundamentally outdated and teaches stupidity and self-deception.
I could go on and on about every single fucking thing in this world that has more bullshit than an arena after a rodeo, but I need to get back to my point.
People sometimes feel empty inside--maybe it's because OUTSIDE is already empty. Maybe the ones called "evil" are really the most aware, because they don't buy into the bull that this life throws at everyone, and they don't give a damn. Yes, I am saying that equal-opportunity haters like Harris, and sociopaths like Sands, and murderers like Gacy, and pedophiles like Humbert ARE the ones who see through the falsities of life, and they directly "disobey" them, because it's in their nature.
Are you scared yet? Good.
Nothing is sacred. Sacred is a word that religion dreampt up to justify it's crackpot messages.