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i just realized that i had the opposite “november 5th experience” when it came to the show adventure time

i watched it when it first came out, it was really cute and fun. then it got into the lore and i was like “wooaahh” but then it got weird and had lots of boring filler episodes so i stopped watching

and then i heard everywhere online that bubbline became canon in the final episode!! so then i finished the show

i had always thought their relationship was more than it seemed, and i just assumed they were exes that became friends again, and this was before i knew what shipping was

luckily!! this show has graphic novels after the finale that are canon, and there’s a new show distant lands with more mini adventures with the characters (i think, i haven’t watched it yet), and i heard the bubbline episode is this thursday, which means they get an epilogue <3

#and marceline was my favorite character #not spn #taaagg #tag #taaaggg #adventure time #my posts #november 5th #shipping

today marks my eighth month since first quarantining on march 13th (which was also a friday D:)

#not spn #taaag #tag #taaaggg #taggg #taaagg #my posts #quarantine #covid19

was almost late to class because i saw a neat bird

i thought i got a good look at it

first fackin bird i write down in my bird notebook and i couldn’t ID it from my field guide r u kiddin me

after class i’ll have to stalk the area is2g i’m gonna figure out what that God Damn bird was

it’s gonna be an interesting semester lmfao

#jennilargh #tttaaagg #taaaggg #tagggg #ttttaa #bird watching

I've been doing some spring cleaning

and I came across a couple of my old writings. I've noticed some patterns. Mood: Most of the time, I wrote when I was depressed or stressed. Stress strangled me last year. Even with having to do a bunch of college shit, including scholarships, and having a 7-academic-period day as a senior at The Barn, I'm no where near as stressed as I was last year. Junior year was a huge reality check. That was the first year I actually had homework every night and expectations to actually LEARN the material (yeah, in Texas you can get by in school without leaning a damn thing at least until your junior year of HS). Plus, I had a shitty job with freakishly long shifts. It was horrible. So everything I read from that year is just so unbelievably depressing and deep. I learned a lot about myself junior year. My perspective of my own will power was very clearly defined. That year taught me I'd never been like either of my siblings. Which is nice. Capital G- God: At the end of a lot of the entires, I mention God. But he's always dismissed. I start to blame Him, or ask Him for help, but then scratch it out. "I don't want to talk about God." Always. And now that I think about it, why did I never want to talk about God? I mean obviously because I don't believe in Him, right? Then why would I mention Him in the first place? I control what I write. So why is it that every. single. time. my thoughts drifted to this supposedly ubiquitous deity? Then I'd proceed to avoid any thought of him like the plague! It just got me thinking. What do I even believe? I dunno but every time I talk about it I cry. I want so badly to truly, whole-heartedly, and unconditionally believe in a God. Why? I have no idea! Maybe because I think it'll make things easier. But if you don't truly believe, it'll never be a comfort to you...you know? I like to believe there's a natural ebb and flow to the universe and the acts of fate have a rhyme and reason, but I can't ever explain it to anyone. "I'm an atheist" is so much easier to say, and I don't cry when I think about it. My jealousy of religious people is absurd, it's ridiculous, and based on nothing: said every one of my non-believing friends. Thanks guys. So I just don't talk about it. Maybe I should try to write it all out. Because it is something that really bothers me when I'm feeling down and out. I shouldn't avoid God, I should try to figure out who He is to me. Relationships: Another topic that consumes most of my writing is my relationships with other people (not exclusively the romantic ones). People's names reoccur. Even during the times I though I'd stopped thinking about them. I frequently found myself looking at the date (partly due to my freakish need for organization of the past, but mostly due to thinking that one day I'll actually be a successfully published author, I date ev-er-y-thing) and thinking, "I don't remember thinking about such-and-such while I was with this-and-this-name..." So, I guess it's kind of nice now to know that. Because its like evidence now. Like maybe I didn't push that person out of my life when I though I did. It also serves as a reference to any feeling I've ever felt toward someone. It helps me remember when I stopped being her friend, or his girlfriend, or when my sister moved out, or how many times she moved out. I just like that it's proof that sometimes my memory sucks at putting things back into chronological order. It makes me want to start writing again. Just to keep record. I don't want to forget. Because maybe I've been treated like shit for so long I try to push it all out of my head? And the only way to remember it, to warn my future self that it's a repeating cycle, is to record it. I don't know. I just know I need to start writing again. I know that writing again will help in tons of different ways. I'll be able to sort things out more easily. I'll be able to remember more easily. I'm doing this new thing where I'm trying to change. To go back to how I use to be. Because I miss the good parts of the old me a lot.

#text post #sheila problems #tag #taaaggg