Might As Well Try & Progress :

I have been SUPER SICK THE LAST 3 DAYS. UGH. So bad. I ended up not being able to go to  my one class today. And today’s class was my 5 hour once a week cinema course. I feel so fucked. I am slipping. Slipping. SLIPPIN.

I was so on track and then a week into struggles I have gone straight back to the starting tile. This is such BULLSHIT. I hope a candor attitude about my hopelessness, a decent sick time reading session and tomorrow night’s dinner at Lola Rosa can get me back on track….

I really need to find that track again,

I.L. Knight

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Flu Season – Kid Koala

A Topsy Turvy Day :

Here’s the thing:

 

I can’t help, but write about my health. It’s one of those things that becomes an all consuming void…pride? Relationship in your life? Still, after 2 years I somehow have not managed to accurately explain it to anyone. The frustration of it all. It’s invisible, you know! You are a child about it, you know. You look fine. You must have anxiety? Must not be able to handle the stress in becoming an adult in a modern world? You’ve adapted your mother’s issues. Damn it all, man. Damn it all. How do you explain something that no one will ever be able to see. Except, when you have black circles under your eyes from extreme lack of sleep during a flare, or a rash from your skin deciding it likes to have temper tantrums. Even then. It’s all fixable with some magic cream prescribed by a doctor. The wondrous marvels of modern medicine.

Anyways, I’m not here today, not present in some form of anchoring, to rant about the invisible pain in my life. Well, not that specific pain or any pain to be exact. I’m strangely here to talk about something good. Shocking, I know.

Tuesday, I faced a massive amount of apprehension about walking back into a school environment with an unsupportive Uni and professors who seemed to hate me for taking a medical leave due to becoming unable to walk properly. Hence, the equally invisible frustrations. Anyways, back to the point. I somehow did it. I survived the anxiety, left an hour early to walk up a giant hill at eight in the morning all without having time to do my morning stretches. I was a fat robot who struggled for an hour to get to a class I didn’t even know I could do. I mean, I was totally out of it. I had stayed up till 4 am the night before to do the readings I was supposed to do for the first day of class. It was a riveting set of film theory on studio films and how it applies to the development of cinema in China. News flash, it was another sense of fetishing the ‘Oriental’ as somehow being a child like country that white people loved to look at as enticing. A conspiracy of a Lolita reenactment going on as some sort of expected lens. Feh. White people. Although, it isn’t really fair of me to say that…considering even my insistence on a Jewish ethnicity can’t cover up the fact my bastard of a father I’ve never met before is as white as you can be. A good old U.K./French mix that made its way to Canada to only end up as a wannabe redneck in South Carolina. Apparently, a yellow pick up truck and a lucrative business in drugs was quite the enticing offer back in the 90’s.

Man, I’m really rambling on about all of this. I don’t know its like something is stuck in my head. Tuesday, was good though. I knew the professor very well. Three classes checked off on the list and it wasn’t hard to guess what his rambling was leading too. I had already learned he loves analytical metaphors, over zealous vocabulary and a hint of alliterations. Not that it is necessarily a bad thing if you have a writing style like mine: unorganized, spastic and completely dependent on the poetics of another fucking person. He’s a pretty great professor. Maybe that’s why the success in the class could only make me feel good. Not special. Not self assured. Not anything other than good. I had simply taken a step back into the stress pot of education at a pretentious Uni I hadn’t completely faltered on my first day. Yep, this invisible suffering outwardly bitchy female was doing good.

But Wednesday man, this day has been more than good. I fucking got away with only doing half the readings, falling asleep during the film screening and being completely silent during the actual lecture. I even saved enough coffee in my cup after 4 hours to be able to walk home. Ah, I hadn’t mentioned yet. I went to bed at 4 am on Tuesday. A friend I really need to keep at a distance due to her all consuming ability to extend everything to be about her self and her timeline made sleep impossible that night… I’m sure you are wondering, if you actually take time out of your day to stop by to this blog, how then did I seemingly do more than good? Well, not only did I never have this professor and she most likely heard terrible things with my somewhat destroyed reputation within my department, we managed to have a delightful conversation after class.

Part One a refreshing acceptance of the fact students can have disabilities or problems that you can’t necessarily see on their fucking face all the time. Even managing to ask what I might need during the year to make class actually be put on the same level as everyone else for me. Riveting, I tell you. Absolutely a fresh experience. Well known Unis’ often suck monkey dick.

Part 2 though is where I somehow managed to hit the nail on the head. I asked her about a simple sub point of a debate I had once back with the Professor from Tuesday about the difference between Modernism and Modernity. I told you over zealous and pretentious vocabulary works every time. Although, I happened to not agree with the insistent pop up of the word modernity everywhere. In case you don’t know the difference let me explain. Modernity is like a transitional movement where a culture or location goes from sort of point A to a point B. The transitional frame is colored in the ideals of Western industrialization and Western dipshitting around the East. Got to make people wear suits to reflect that they have officially entered into a ‘modern’ society. Modernism is not that. It is like the distinct choices one makes most likely within modernity to reach this point of ‘Modern’. An example would be the person moving from traditional work attire to a suit in order to display the new status of the individual within the society. Wow, even I think I sound smart reading this back… Too bad I’m not.

It was a total rip off, in a sense, of the fact Tuesday’s professor is crazy about the ideal and on Tuesday I watched the film Shadow Magic which is about the emergence of film in China. Told through fictional lens of course. Naturally, then I could pull out some off the cuff analytical bull crap about the locomotive movement of the story displaying an upward movement within society was actually a display of modernism and not modernity. The guy was going from the country side to an upcoming area of Tokyo. Now wore a suit to work and over the film was shown with foreign goods increasing around him as the plot went on. Modernism. The decisions made by a character within a transitional point of a narrative style of film.

I mean, the side readings were also annoying as hell. Western critics and their fetishing of the ‘Orient’ literally looks as the introduction of early film in Japan as some unique cultural experience. It’s really not that unique. Not for the people there. Think about it. Traditional forms of entertainment started as some form of silent moving spectacle that was than enhanced by a spectacle of music and a narrator to draw attention back to the silent spectacle in the background. So now the ‘silence’ was coming from tiny squares. No need to cause some pure film debates within society over it. Media changed not your cultural standards. And saying it was being used to police the environment? Please, whether it is the modern NHK or back in the age of Imperialism, Japanese authority has always used popular media to persist structured ideals within the common populace. It’s not even a unique Japanese method. Most states do it. Making an emphasis on how controlling it is, because now the films had more directly stated organized structure of social mannerisms versus cultural ideals isn’t a great argument. It’s annoying. It’s being over analytical to the point reaches several moments where people need to shout at you to just stop. An apple can be an apple. It doesn’t need to be a solid Cider or a solid juice…. My analogy sucks. Never mind.

Damn. I really did leave that class on cloud nine though. It was like someone handed me direct proof that I can actually do this. That brain fogs and a struggle to be the student you used to be was not an inhibition. Oh no. I was right to take this challenge upon myself. I was a fighter destined to grow beyond my family and past life experiences. Even if I couldn’t remember when the dynasties were or the names of the movies I’ve seen I could still recall the beating heart that made me fall in love with the Asian continent. A lack of words to portray it or not. My ties to the continent were a life link in the blood and in the marrow. I couldn’t help, but smile on my way home. Try to call every single one of my relatives and tell them I got this, while I felt the light breeze of an enjoyable cool Montreal winter day. The world was alive and full of colors and I had hope to be apart of it all. To not just exist anymore, but to find a way to live. I know it was awkwardly optimistic of me. I didn’t even mind that much that the same friend showed up twenty minutes late to our appointment at the office of student disabilities and then made us go to her coffee shop and suddenly tell me at mine that she didn’t have time, because she actually had a class. Strangely optimistic. I normally don’t get over things in the way of my morning coffee.

Here I am. In bed. Still, slightly feeling the remnants of this wonderful Wednesday and of the new Boruto episode this week. Still, a part of me knows that my struggles have just begun. That a large part of me will remain invisible and un-understandable. That I have a higher statistical chance of not meeting this challenge and finding acceptance of myself than actually succeeding. I most likely won’t get the summer internships I need, because of my Uni being a dick and money makes the world go around. Study Away? FEH. Who will get approved for that. And god forbid if I try to lose the weight from NOT BEING ABLE OT MOVE FOR LIKE 4 MONTHS.

Fun fact. Did you know there is like no fat people in Montreal. Not even among the foreign students? Yet, here I am getting looked at because I am now one size away from having to shop at obese stores and all you can look at me is like I AM FUCKED UP AND EAT TOO MUCH. News flash. I gained my weight from a dead metabolism. I actually don’t eat that much and struggle to move. Yet, I can’t scream it at the top of my lungs. I’d sound insane. And in public. I am a good southern girl. I smile as best I can and not be caught with the matches. However, do trust that I definitely have those matches. As the same friend mentioned through out this point does lovingly refer to me as being a bitchy cunt who is a horrible human being. Well, it was my joke in the first place. Can’t necessarily blame her for that.

Here’s the take away of all of this:

  1. I am still strangely optimistic; although, it has returned to be mixed with extreme apprehension.
  2. I forgot I have no classes on Thursday, so maybe I can catch up on sleep and go the gym. *snicker*
  3. I still desire a semicolon tattoo on the side of my wrist, because I am fucking idiot about trends when it comes to messages. Especially when they are ‘poetic’.
  4. Intj are actually the coldest people in the world and Intp are the warmest robots…. I am Intp.
  5. All hail Slytherin and HP rps.
  6. I have legitimately no real friends in Montreal and should probable commit on improving myself for once.
  7. Can you fail a paid community French class?
  8. If I get to Asia I will definitely feel worse about being fat. Partly because I’m American and that can be an annoying stereotype to be labeled with. I already have to fight hipster and weeboo, because of dumb people.
  9. I don’t know anything in life. Not really.

So, before I go to sleep I need to watch the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Because some article informed me Jewish women were wonderful representatives on female representation and anti-discrimination within Hollywood at the Golden Globes. I didn’t even see the award show. Although, I saw Natalie Portman’s quip. Fuck yea. Ani ohev et Israel. You kind of cause a lot of problems, but you gave the Jewish community Natalie Portman. By the way did you know the Jewish comedy lead actress isn’t Jewish? I mean, she sort of looks more Jewish than the Jewish actresses that get cast more often than stereotypical Jewish images, so I get it. You can be a MOT that brings the hammer at the Golden Globes.

I fucking love crude comedy,

I.L. Knight

P.s. I have listened to Joseph King of Dreams and The Prince of Egypt way too much today. I might have to re-compartmentalize my internal angst.

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Demons – Imagine Dragons

 

** The singer is my brother in Chronic Illness warrior training. Respect.**

What I’ve Figured Out About Beauty :

Here’s the thing I’ve noticed about having any invisible illness/problem when it comes to beauty. Products are either hella expensive, or even if they are recommended to you they still might not work. It’s like a whole broken system where everyone profits except the people who are actually dependent on them It’s not about the fancy label or ingredients you put into it. It’s about the fact that we literally can’t use the nice over the counter convince store products we used to half of the time.

Seriously, look at the math.

1) Supplements range from 11$-30$ on average. Let’s say you get the cheapest at 11$. The average amount of supplements I’ve seen so far for those with an invisible illness is around 4-5. If you need 4 supplements that’s an extra 44$ a month. And we aren’t even talking standard vitamins, tax or shipping fees.

2) Beauty products suddenly narrow down to a range of goods that can be 40$ – 200/300$ for one product. This includes even your sunscreen and hand lotion. Yea, sure you can cheat once or twice a week with some over the counter lotion with oat in it that only cost you 2$ at the dollar store. BUT if you use it too much you end up causing rashes on your skin that takes more expensive goods to fix. So the average amount of products people use I read is somewhere between 5-10 a day. Let’s take the median of 40 – 200, which is 120, and multiply that by 5 products you use in a month. That’s 600$ a month. 600$ on hand cream, sunscreen, a cleanser, a moisturizer, maybe an eye cream or foundation depending on your preference, and perhaps make up remover.

That means between just those two areas of purchases you make in a month you spend somewhere around 644$. It’s insane. No wonder we drive ourselves nuts to find cheaper everyday products that work. Because while we are up in here trying to afford a 644$ a month budget on goods we need to be actively groomed people in society we may or may not find a cheaper alternative. It all depends on what exactly your problem is and how your skin is reacting that month.

I am telling you. It is utter bullshit. Bullshit that makes life way more expensive on living. Bullshit that makes me want to declare for aid from my government, because HOW ELSE DO I AFFORD FUCKING SUNSCREEN AT 40$ A POP.

No one fucking cares about problems if you can’t fucking see it 1/2 an inch away from your own goddamn face.

There goes having semi nice school books for this semester, the few extra shirts I could of used to comfortably survive winter, or just maybe something that would of been a nice treat for myself. All gone.

I.L. Knight

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Harder Better Faster – Daft Punk

My Life Revolves Around Hummus :

I’m sorry I just find it soooo funny how as I am typing out an Rp reply what is scattered around me on top of my bed sheets is: a large container of hummus, container of raisins, container of prunes, container of craisins, container of prunes, container of almonds, container of sunflower seeds and a block of seasoned tofu.

I really am fighting a chronic illness, huh?

A goofy faced,

I.L. Knight

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Hummus : The Rap

A Look Back On My First Week Back In Canada :

I don’t really know how to describe all of this….Which is why I took a week to try and get there, or get to a place, where I can attempt it.

January 1:

  1. Tired. Excited. Bored my lovely cheap flight on Air Canada back to Montreal.
  2. Sit in completely the wrong seat.
  3. Have the gentleman who was supposed to sit in my seat thankfully understand and while smiling take mine.
  4. Have a nice conversation with my seat mates about my awful French and play with the toddler who was in the seat behind. Even get thanked by parents.
  5. Land. Find out it is apparently -30. Smile smugly at those around me that I lugged an actual winter coat on the plane. But then cry when I carry my over packed and over weight backpack through the airport to baggage.
  6. Wait for baggage while being disappointed about a lack of wifi. Finally get wifi and find out my dearest friend finally came out. Shed tears of joy at the airport.
  7. Realize that the Hasidic man is staring annoyed at the crowd swarming around the baggage claim. Remembering that there is a huge population of Hasidic Jews in Montreal. And how they are mean to even other Jews.
  8. Somehow zone out and easily get to my apartment. A nervous apprehension washing over me as I watch the light snowflakes fall down around me as I enter the city limits of Montreal.
  9. Relief for the first time that something comes easily. My apartment issues were fixed. A non issues. I swiftly get into my apartment and my left over boxes found.
  10. Realize nothing is open for dinner. So you walk to Jean Coutu to be shocked one block in the cold is actually a not nice journey into the wilderness of hunting for food: Pizza Bagels and Reese’s chocolate bar.
  11. SOMEHOW stay on track and finish completely unpacking an organized room before bed.

January 2 :

  1. Maintain my 9:00 pm bedtime and 4:30 am wake up.
  2. Somehow, do a full routine of functional training.
  3. Take a hot bath with some Epsom Salt I was clever enough to pack into my boxes.
  4. Get an email from my well loved Professor that he is happy that I am back, but is unsure if he would want me in his class. As he doesn’t know if I can handle it, physically, and if he can help me through the class the way he thinks I need.
  5. Feel the apprehension return.
  6. Cry a little…. Alot.
  7. Report the news to all concerned parties and deal with the mostly negative lash back about deciding to challenge myself and finding acceptance by returning to Montreal.
  8. Facetime my Aunt to show her my room. Gain surprising encouragement…
  9. Go down stairs and arrange the final details I need to for my apartment.
  10.  Do an insane amount of research on my computer about how to continue my business from abroad, how to get my mother to mail me up what I need in general, how to fix my phone issue and how I can find updates for shows I have not seen.
  11. Accomplish pretty much nothing.

January 3rd :

  1. Wake up at 8:30. Who knows when I went to bed. And only stretch lightly.
  2. The weather is super cold, so I promise myself to get organization of notes, and old books done perfectly to my standards.
  3. Watch way too many hours of different Real Housewives shows and basically accomplish nothing.
  4. Meet up with family friends/ family of the kids I babysit for a dinner. It was very expensive. They are extremely generous people. They even took us to a dessert place closer to me afterwards.
  5. Return home to take more hot baths with Epsom Salt.
  6. Come to terms with the fact I really need to go to the $$ store to pick up a new shower curtain, so I can shower. Get shampoo and definitely a shit ton of cleaning products so I can calm down.
  7. Call my mom.
  8. Ball up and cry a little more.
  9. Think I am stupid.
  10. Wonder what my life would be like if I perfectly dealt with all of these challenge, became a famous writer or entrepreneur and moved to Japan.
  11. Realize I don’t speak Japanese.
  12. Wonder if I would need to date to learn the language…. Figure out if I was to be creepily selective I would be like ‘yo. Taka. Hit me up. I like cats. You like cats. Let’s do this.”
  13. Fall asleep at 12:00 am for the first time in a month.

January 4th :

  1. Wake up at 8:00 am. Don’t stretch at all.
  2. Watch too much Housewives and Bravo Tv to try and wake up.
  3. Get a text about babysitting for a few hours.
  4. Rejoice at the excuse to not do my actual chores.
  5. Babysit. Have some struggles. But end it on a great note.
  6. Anxiety about being paid because you know. Not everything is about money. Sometimes you just help people out when they are in a town they don’t know, but you do. Take money anyways so they are comfortable.
  7. They go to a restaurant you recommended. Accidentally take the long way there. Feel crappy about it. Feel even crappier that the entire family professionally plays Pokemon GO even when walking to the restaurant and at the actual restaurant. Somehow get convinced to re-download Pokemon Go. Realize they are all Team Mystic. And you are #valor for life. Not because you want Moltres (Articuno baby~) BUT because the leader is so awesome and red is a great color.
  8. Eat more dessert in the form of a red velvet cake and a chocolate brownie warm melty creation.
  9. Try to walk home, but end up in there taxi.
  10. Collapse in your bed.

January 5th :

  1. Finally pay January’s rent.
  2. Walk to Tim Hortons for coffee. Good coffee. Basically, the best coffee.
  3. Grieve a little about the lack of Tim Hortons in your home town area. Because Dunkin Donuts is not a preferable establishment.
  4. Never leave the apartment for the rest of the day even though you have chores to do. It’s cold. There exists Bravo TV and old reunions you can watch. You can ‘attempt’ to do other chores.
  5. Somehow, don’t go to bed until 12:00pm.
  6. First day of slow buildup of sugar backlash/ generally enemy food for having an autoimmune disease.
  7. Oh. Spend a whopping 10 minutes at a get together that took you an hour to get too.

January 6th :

  1. Finally get my laundry card. Forget that you still need your mail key. You need to redirect your mail. You also need to tell them about the broken lamp in your room or else.
  2. Walk to Tim Hortons. Realize you were dying of cold, because somehow your zipper broke on route and your coat was completely open. Be embarrassed by not even noticing it for 5 blocks.
  3. Say you are going to be productive. So you generally are and finish organization of last bits.
  4. Get an email from you Guidance Counselor that she can’t see you during add/drop period anymore, because apparently they aren’t seeing anyone. Even though she knows you have serious health issues, were told by her to not sign up for any classes because she was going to help you choose the right classes for your major program and help you actually choose a minor…. Oh, but hey. I can get help from the program advisers within my faculty department even though they all hate me right now for being an awful student and leaving to take care of my health.
  5. Panic. Panic some more. GENERALLY BECOME CRIPPLED BY PANIC. Then cry. Then feel overwhelmed. Then become an intense recluse in a corner of your tiny one room apartment. Because you are a dumb failure who will never graduate or succeed. The disappointment. The generally just existing problem.
  6. Do not accomplish anything, but a psuedo confidence in yourself that you can do this. Earn back your faculty’s trust, fight through the obstacles with a determined attitude.
  7. Cry some more.
  8. Finally leave because a friend of yours, who you weren’t sure in the first place would be a healthy dependent for you at the moment, arrives and wants dinner.
  9. Struggle through the physical pain of the day to get to her place. Only to eat food you know you shouldn’t be eating. But hey you remembered to take your pills today. And had a good time watching the Good Place. I love you Kristin Bell.
  10. Be surprised you like her Chihuahua, because you generally hate them and they unnerve you.
  11. Get home at 11:07. Still be awake, even though you feel dead inside to attempt to write this blog post.
  12. Write this blog post.

 

 

I don’t know what I am doing. Am I chasing the fleeting remnants of my pride in some stubborn refusal to myself that I can’t yet be who I want to be, because I need to be in recovery? Am I running from my family again? Am I just trying to prove those who said bad things about me, about my struggles wrong? Live up to the belief of friends who have been there for me? Learn to love myself?

I am scared of this challenge. This necessity in my life. In the physical pain of the cold winter I used to love. Of the lack of support from the world around me. Of myself. Of failing….Of losing what is left of the pride and assurance I struggled to get back. Of failing.

It hurts. It hurts in my chest. In my bones. In my awkward crippled positions.

It is…

I.L. Knight

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Like A Monkey In A Zoo – Daniel Johnston

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On My Way Back :

So here I sit at the airport. Three hours early, just so I can avoid the potential issues of airport hell. Tiredly living in my beanie and over sized sweater. Glad I put on a face mask this morning, so at least my skin feels fresh and awake. And most of all feeling like some tired stereotype. I mean I am sitting at the one terminal cafe with a Snapple AND a hot tea. All while I blog about being at the airport. Come on. What am I even doing with my life?

Clearly, I have been checked out from everything the last few days from nerves. And today, I am just…. I don’t know? Numb and perpetuating the image of our generation everyone hates? Fuuuuuck.

I’m scared to be back in Canada. I’m unable to live in Florida. All my aspirations are painful. My actually life is painful. Fuuuuuck.

I don’t know what I am doing with my life.

Just waiting for the next step/milestone here,

I.L. Knight

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The Fear – Lily Allen

Sorry About The 2 Day Act :

I think it is hard to admit for anyone that sometimes life just gets a little too much for us. Even me, who often seems to be complaining about that very thing, holds back a lot. The thing is… I’ve always had pride. A ton of it. So much of it it became the backbone of my resistance through the bad. I was proud in what I could do and what I could be. Then I lost all of that pride. I lost it to my self. To a body that wouldn’t and couldn’t do what I always took pride in doing. Yea, it’s hard to admit that it destroyed me. And I’m still not able to say anything other then I am trying to get it back.

I don’t know how to explain to people who haven’t experienced an auto-immune issue how much it could affect people. There is the insanity that comes from just trying to reach a diagnosis. Then the phase where ‘you are a hypochondriac or a complainer’. Then there’s the diagnosis were you are in so much pain you don’t really care about the tittle. Except when it comes to hashtags. Because, hashtags will bring to you the support others around you just can’t give. Then there is the struggle to be like okay it will take a few years for me to return to normal. Okay, getting my required drugs are basically impossible. Okay, I now have to study over and over again, because my brain can’t retain information the same. Okay, you aren’t getting out of bed for a few hours. Okay, cardio comes from moving from upstairs to downstairs for the day…. Everything is just o-k-a-y. Life in a permanent feeling state of okay is the biggest hell you can wish on someone. When life is just okay the only thing you really feel is not even your pain, but an universal pain of only feeling the passing of time.

So, yea I need to admit clearly that I for the first time feel defeated. Defeated, because there is no solution or victory. There is just a goal to be slightly more than okay. It fucking sucks. Watching the world around me move so fast in so many colors and feeling like you are in a slow motion black and white. The only colors popping up from a panic attack about returning to school.

How could you not panic though? You are coming back from a medical leave. Your body is not quite up to par. Your mind is especially no longer up to par for a high pressured academic environment. It’s winter in Canada. You have no friends you are close to or who care about your struggles in almost the entire continent. Your professors are severely disappointed with you for not being more ‘communicative’ during your struggles over the past semester. Your parents wonder why they are even paying for University. You wonder if you can ever finish it and retain the semi ambitious nature you once had. You begin to feel trapped in the stress and fears of returning to such an environment that you spend some days shut down in a corner and other days so consumed in work to just try and prove to yourself you can still do this. When you have absolutely no belief that you can and that you are challenging yourself only to prove you won’t fail that bad. Oh, then there exists the constant struggle of you can basically only lose a pound a week, BUT HEY you can finally start taking off the weight your disease basically created. Oh yea. I need to be confident and proud in myself alright. Uber confident. Uber proud.

I mean. I just wish I could say fuck it all and be done with it, but I know I can’t. Life doesn’t work that way. It works with your body shutting down. Your family no longer having any faith in you. You making bad choices with the friends you have and you getting worked up over people who aren’t even your friends. Because the very sight of you doing bad is an act of joy for them. Even though even you wouldn’t wish this hell on someone else. Even people you once said you would enjoy sitting back with a cup of wine as you watched them burn in the flames of hell. You end up reevaluating your life a little bit. And you are basically an emotional mess with no idea how you can will yourself to change it.

I was trapped without being able to move the way I wanted, so I started a start up. It was great. It took my mind off of my pain and gave me something to focus on. Now, I have to do that and return to school. And for the first time in my life I can say, I no longer love school. I fear it. Something worse than a lions’ den is up there waiting for me. Something worse than the hell I feel like I am looping in everyday.

And I just fucking wish I wasn’t so lonely. Why can’t I not be lonely…..

I.L. Knight

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A Match Into Water – Pierce The Veil

Carolyn – Black Veil Brides

So Now We Got Butterflies… :

So a friend of mine decided to give me a sort of impromptu medicine reading. I guess that post workout would really help get me out of my all consuming panic attack. I think she severely underestimated my fear of butterflies.

That’s right. The first card I pulled was the butterfly. A card that apparently is all about transformation and change. Blegh. So to solve my falcon and wolf problem I need to embrace the changes that are happening in my life. Okay. I got the message. Next time can it come in another insect… A praying mantic, perhaps? I don’t want to fight my fear of change and my fear of butterflies.

Oh, the other card was Owl. Not surprising. I have always been drawn to owls and it has been assumed to be one of my totems. (deep menacing voice) “I am the great deceiver. Seer of the Truth. Seer of the Darkness.” (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧ Ah, that was fun for a moment.

I think the only thing I got out of it was laughter. A sort of confusion on why I have to think about such specific challenges like change, ambition, education and family. And I wonder if I am drawn to animals like crows then why is that not my totem, but another animal is…. I mean 5 seems like an oddly specific number.

I.L. Knight

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The Crow & The Butterfly – Shinedown

Soap

It’s funny. Here I am trotting along on my path to my own start up and a neighbor of mine turns out to be much later in the steps of his own. It’s quite the coinkydink if you ask me. Sure enough, I hadn’t realized I actually use his product. My mom was bringing it home to us every week. He makes soap. Now, now don’t laugh. If this was way back in the day he would be revered as a god of hygiene.

I will give him this though. It is special soap. Great soap. It’s called The CBD Skincare Co and they focus on soap that is actually good for people that have skin conditions. The owners have had issues with soap due to bad eczema and burned skin. When their daughter was going through a bad case of eczema they decided to try and make some soap that would help her. And they apparently did.

My mom switched my soap about 3 months ago and since then my skin has been pretty great. I do use a charcoal bar before I wash with it, because I am a clean freak. However, after the charcoal bar I wash down/scrub my body with their soap. It’s great that it doesn’t irritate my skin or cause any blotchy redness.

They asked me to comment on its effectiveness so they could see if it works for other skin conditions and how it would react to the CBD oil. For those of you who don’t know what that is it is an oil from hemp. Basically the part of a hemp plant that isn’t used for smoking. Which means you don’t need a medical marijuana card to use this soap. So far all you need is to want to take care of your skin.

That being said. If you are interested in trying a new soap that has been helpful for me, I suggest trying theirs. My whole family use it and we have a variety of skin issues. If you do try it hit me up on twitter or find another way to let me know. I want to make sure I tell them the truth about the product. Since it is made for those with skin problems before anything else. I can also help y’all possibly get a discount. (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

Please try it and let me know!

I.L. Knight

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Soap – Melanie Martinez