Why?

Let's see...Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.

I'd say I have one foot in bargaining and the other in depression.

Death is like a an infinite weight on my back...when I think about it, even for a little bit, the weight crushes me. It is so abstract, because no one really knows the details.  All we know is that everything that lives must die.  What happens after death is a mental free for all. 

I wish I could chop up my fear of death into bight-size little pieces. Until then, it is a concept that I cannot (or refuse to?) swallow.

Maybe I'm just mad because the overwhelming sadness I feel about my mom and my cat bars me from accepting/understanding/not understanding death.

How do I even go to see my cat tomorrow? It is simple- spend time with her. Everytime I look at her, though, I just see this huge clock, and every tick-tock is one second less that I will have her in my life.

Laments

My cat is dying. That is, she has 6 months to a year to live. I found out today and I exploded in emotion over everything- my mom, my cat...why must everything that lives die? I selfishly want to keep every soul that touches me away from God. I want my cat to live a healthy age of forever and my mom, an eternity. That, like most other things, is out of my control. God's will is out of my control. I take comfort in knowing that I know nothing- I don't know what God's plan is, what he/she wants, what I need. If I do not know, I cannot control. Yet, my heart is still crying. There is a lump in my throat that I cannot swallow. My emotions exist. They demand that I get tattoos dedicated to my cats and my mom and that I cry and cry and cry until I have nothing left. I want a better perception of death. I want to be able to accept this natural step in the circle of life. I'm just like Oedipus or Willy Loman or Hamlet...I'm arguing with a fate I cannot fight.

Stop fighting, Kathryn.
Stop fighting, Kat.
Stop fighting, little girl.
Let go.

"Now if you suppose that there is no consciousness, but a sleep like the sleep of him who is undisturbed even by the sight of dreams, death will be an unspeakable gain. . . . Now if death is like this, I say that to die is gain; for eternity is then only a single night. But if death is a journey to another place, and there, as men say, all the dead are, what good, O my friends and judges, can be greater than this? . . . What would not a man give if he might converse with Orpheus and Musaeus and Hesiod and Homer? Nay, if this be true, let me die again and again. . . . Above all, I shall be able to continue my search into true and false knowledge; as in this world, so also in that; I shall find out who is wise, and who pretends to be wise, and is not. . . . The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways--I to die, and you to live. Which is better God only knows." - Plato, from The Trial and Death of Socrates

...

You are the bright orange embers of my cigarette.

Steam.

I am about to EXPLODE. My blood is hot with rage and excess energy. I have no outlets right now- no playing, no drugs, no alcohol, no sex, no self-infliction. I can't do any of those things- I'm beyond them, right? I smoked cigarettes yesterday for the first time in a while. What is wrong with me?

My therapist says exercise or scream in the car. It isn't enough- I've beat the shit out of my couch, screamed my lungs out- all I have at this point is my damn pen and creativity. It is the ONLY thing that really saves me.

Let's try creation, not destruction.

Free me from these chains.

The things that scare people are my playthings. The things that comfort them are my worst nightmares.

Capitalism: A Love Story.

I saw this movie last night and I am absolutely appalled. It really just threw in my face what I already knew. I recommend this movie to anyone who gives a shit about this country.

Learned? With Capitalism, there is no Democracy.

I finally feel charged to get back into activist work. Thanks, Michael Moore.

Okay, maybe I should elaborate more on the most memorable points:

1) Major companies today are taking life insurance policies on their employees. Such companies include WalMart, CityBank, Bank of America, among others. One man died and Walmart earned over $81,000 off of it. His wife received nothing. In a nutshell, he was a better employee dead than alive.

2) Foreclosures...where do I start? Homeowners were encouraged to "refinance" their homes- aka release ownership and pay back their mortgage all over again. Banks also started offering high-risk loans to people who they knew could not pay them back. The result? The banks foreclose homes when homeowners can't pay back the loans and ridiculous interest rates. One woman in the film lost her home of 22 years. She and her neighbors refused to leave until the eviction team left. Another family had their house broken into to foreclose it. Afterwards, rich people come swoop up these homes and sell them for a profit- vultures. Ball outs go to the banks, but don't they belong to the people?

3) 1% of the country- the rich- own more than what 95% of the population owns put together. Enough said.

4) The majority of previous Goldman Sachs CEOs work for the U.S. government now. Wait, don't work for...run. We are run by economic tyrants.

It is time for action. Write to your congressman. Get involved. I am.

Lady Fit

I wrote this about a year ago.

Sometimes, I get this overwhelming urge to just throw out all my clothes, shave my head, and dump ALL THE FUCKING MAKEUP, all the bows, all the razors, all the shoes, all the pink, all the purses, all the perfume, all the flowers, all the cards, all the neon-colored boxes, and all my girly-ass sheets. FUCK IT. Fuck being a girl. Fuck oppression. Fuck self-doubt. Fuck eat this, don't eat that. Fuck diets. Fuck quiet. Fuck morality. Fuck cute. Fuck pretty. Fuck shaving. Fuck taking one hour to get ready. Fuck hair dryers. Fuck rape. Fuck the boys that just want to fuck. Fuck low-fat. Fuck diet pills. Fuck surgery. Fuck cleavage. Fuck high-heels and their corresponding blisters. Fuck pony tails. Fuck everything that society uses to define me.

But the real fucking rub is that I can't do this. Gender identity has been so far nailed into my damn brain that I can't do shit about it. I care if my legs are shaved, if my stomach has any ounce of fat on it, if the asshole of the week really wants to fuck me. 

I have my little rebellions, but the fact is that I can never completely shake off this restrictive shell.

So I scream in this fucking notebook and learn about how women's lives FUCKING SUCK from class to class to class.

Fuck it all. My name is Kat and I'm a fucking person.

I insisted on performing this behind a halfway house garage to my man toy at the time. He didn't take it too well. :)

And here it is.

I haven't been writing much at all lately, so I figured I needed to find a new reason to do so.

Ugh, it is really hard not to try and act pretentious on here. Blickdeblahblah...okay, I'm ready.

A lot of things go on in my head that are really messed up, or at least I assume they are. A blessing and a curse- in my mind, there is horrid beauty, but it haunts me day after day. Hopefully, if I spew out at least some of what I see, I can take a little bit of its power away.

I know this is going out for the whole world to read, or at least the people that have enough patience to read it. Here are my guts spilled on a silver platter.

Why The Giant Bunny Rabbit? Watch Donnie Darko.