Star vs. The Forces of Evil :

So, Star Vs. The Forces of Evil is ending and I am so torn. SO TORN. The problem is I don’t know whether or not I am too upset to watch the end of season 3. This is going to sound like the nerdiest most sappy geek like thing ever, but: I AM REALLY ANNOYED WITH THAT STARCO MOMENT. I get we are probably going to have the cliche where the best friend male character is the predestined fated true love of the female protagonist (because we can never just have a great friend story) happen, but having Marco kiss Star right after Tom and her finally get the growth they should have and be super cute IS JUST PLAN AWFUL. That is a waster of having Tom and Star together or Kelly being interested in Marco. All of that awkwardness could of just waited till the next season. Don’t do it back to back like that.

And you want to know the worst part if you are a Tomstar shipper like me? All the Starco fan fiction children are so amazing. Like seriously amazing. Luna and Cressida and Sam are so great I would love an episode where a bunch of parallel world kids just pop out team up and save Mewni…..Why can’t someone make (specifically draw because I have no talent in that) cute kids for Tomstar? TOM DESERVES CUTE KIDS TOO.

Please, internet if I write bad fan fiction will you help me?

I.L. Knight

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Star’s Princess Song – Star Vs. The Forces Of Evil

Fan Fiction Update :

Just a quick introduction!

I have added Lost Girl Fan Fiction onto the site, because it was my old binge watch and inspiration hit. It is so much easier to add rather than finish existing works….

Please check it out:

Lost Girl Chapter 1

I.L. Knight

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Lost Girl Opening

Web Novel Updates :

Before I sit down in assignment hell and overload I just wanted to quickly update two of the chapters for a web novel I have been shopping around….As soon as I get out from under my assignment and life overload I will update more.

MOOOORRREEEE,

I.L. Knight

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All The Tired Horses – Bob Dylan

 

Temptation of Rps:

I’m really tempted to post on this site the Harry Potter Rps I have with a fellow writer that’s appeared on my site. The problem is, no matter how good they are, there is so much problems with posting and dealing with harry potter stuff that is a struggle bus I’m not 100% like want to have…. But still, this Slytherin love of mine.

I.L. Knight

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Slytherin Playlist

Am I Actually Upper Middle Class? :

I’ve been struggling to find a way to become independent from my family for the last year or two. I think it is the biggest step a person can take in moving past having family issues is to not rely on them in such an all demanding way. The problem is I’ve lived my life as a spoiled middle class girl that wasn’t supposed to work. You could say my savings and job related skills were minimal.

All of that aside, I was sitting with a friend one day going over what I now know about money and how I want to take steps towards separating financially from my family by the time I graduate undergrad and a comment was made about me owning stocks. It was made to connect the dots with being someone in the upper middle class economic bracket. And being told that got me thinking about being middle class. I mean first off, owning stocks doesn’t equal having actual money. I mean it is mostly used for continuous reinvestment that you don’t touch until future unless emergency. Plus, when shit goes bad in the market you lose the money. Yea, there is privilege about knowing about stocks, but it is definitely not a type of thing you can wake up and buy and then have a bunch of money.

And my grandparents, the one who provide for my family’s lifestyle? Well, my grandpa is his old age still gets up between 4 and 5 in the morning to prepare to work all day in the store. I kind of get why he is a crabby Republican. He was definitely someone who never got much from the government except the benefits of being in the army. However, it was the Vietnam era and so were benefits even worth that much if the risk was such more while serving? He thinks he achieved the American dream for his family of poor immigrants, but I’m not so certain. My grandmother on the other hand is completely pessimistic about the American dream. Hard work can only go so far for her. Yet, she works even harder than my grandfather.

My grandmother grew up in a wealthy family that had to spend the money to about every other person or vice in the family then her. She didn’t go to college and she didn’t have a chance to work much, because she married young and became a house wife. My grandparents didn’t have money in those days. My grandma’s family only helped my grandfather find a job and take them out for a weekend dinner. So she became the Queen of Couponing and making all your furniture. When she even got the nice house though there was still struggles. Where we were in the ‘middle class bracket’ would constantly go up and down. Sometimes, they could afford a second house. Other times they had to sell it. Sometimes I could afford private school. Other times my mom had to take a less paying job to work at the school for reduced tuition or I had to get a scholarship.

But you don’t see all of that, because being anywhere in the realm of middle class you are dressed up presentable. Comments can’t or shouldn’t be made because then you would be a snob, or undeserving of your luck. It doesn’t matter if you yourself don’t care about money, or if you are only trying to understand the worth of it. It seems to constantly be going, so up and down no matter where you started (unless you are super rich then you really don’t have that problem).

But even if I was still upper middle class, I got a lot of problems. A lack of money always seems to be a more physical problem. However, having money always seems to bring psychological ones. A shit ton of them. I mean the wealthy side has disowned and abandoned the middle class side. Eight to nine years later they still don’t talk. My mother expects a paycheck from me if I exceed in any manner of economic stability in the future….Well, I don’t think that one is such a bad thing. You know, tradition, family paying back what’s due or someone’s care. Although, my grandparents point that out as wrong. Ah…whatever this isn’t about my mother’s shallow future shoe or botox collection.

I think it just about with money you always get a struggle and you never seem to know your place. There is the broad sense of you are poor, so it doesn’t matter to the world technically how poor you are. There is the out of the realm sense where you are so rich it is painful to know how much, or else you will become a maniac. There’s the middle class where you are so overly critical that you are constantly filling out paperwork or questionnaire’s to know technically where exactly you stand.

But see. In any case you still have problems. And in my case, even if my family is middle class, they don’t just pull out a card and give me what I want. It’s always what they think I should want. I still had to work for my interests alone on my own dime… and not any dimes I earned from owning stocks.

I kind of hate money even if it important for society… It is always leaving a sticky imprint on everyone’s’ lives.

I can’t even afford rent on my own. Independence is a far away dream,

I.L. Knight

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She Works Hard For The Money – Donna Summer

It’s Sort Of Funny :

My entire life when it came to my appearance I always wanted one thing: to be thin and pale, the sort of heroine chic one would want to protect. Its funny how life turns out sometimes. It did hand me the sick look, just not the fashion … or weight that came with it. I went from hyper and healthy to sick and overweight. When that irony popped up in my head the other day I couldn’t help but laugh. I got everything I ever wanted…. wanted to be a writer? Could still half ass that? Wanted to own my own business and be successful young? I own something on paper? Wanted to be happy? I finally got half way there? Etc…

Yep. Life, G-d, karma gave me everything I wanted. It’s not a cliche unneeded thing it’s just… a joke. It feels like the things I struggled for are a cosmic joke.

I.L. knight

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Courage – Superchick

So I Can Put This Calmly Behind Me:

Normally, I would be caught up with anxiety and hyper thinking and inability to get back on track. However, I think this time I can not fall into that trap. Instead of being emotional and sad, I want to focus on the good news today. I got offered not one, but two summer scholarships in Japan (a country that has been my #1 one desired country to visit), and I got a nice purple hair dye. I’m going to focus on that.

I’m also, instead of a long rant, be simple and direct about my complaints:

(1) I asked my mom not to call me this week about our issues, because I have a very heavy workload from school and would be already stressed and anxious. She ignored this request to ask me a heavy loaded question.

(2) It is generally inappropriate, and even worse so at the the moment, to ask your daughter if she loves you because you are her mother and if you see her as a mother from over the phone. We already have issues and need these sort of conversations mediated.

(3) Insist at the pain of your answer, when you told her truthfully out of respect. I love my mother as an individual, because of choices she has made for me. I’m no longer a child who looks at the world as simple as, “A mother is someone you love, because she is your mother.” Whether I see my mother as my mother or not that is also complicated.  My mother by definition and logic I recognize as a mom. However, emotional context is different. It’s not a good or bad thing, or grandparents influences, there is just roles that have not been fulfilled. Don’t ask for a simplification of a complicated matter, so lightly and off the cuff.

There is the summary of the phone conversation. Now I am going to let go of it tonight and focus on my work. A couple minutes of deep breathing and calming down will do the trick, because I will not get in my way tonight.

I am capable of staying calming and achieving what I want to achieve,

I.L. Knight

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Daughters – John Mayer

Ruining My Happy Place:

Whelp, I moved houses. And this new house has been super great, it fits every box for a warm happy home that is conducive to living a new chronic life. An added bonus: it is next to the Japanese gardens in my town. It is a great place I love to just sit in silence and like find some time to myself and be around nature. It is a happy place for me in a town that has historically not been so happy for me.

AND THEY RUINED IT. THEY FUCKING RUINED IT. THEY RUINED IT FOR ME SO BADLY I CAN’T GO BACK FOR AT LEAST A YEAR, SO I CAN GET OVER HOW THEY FUCKING RUINED IT.

First, my grandmother went around the gardens complaining how the price of entrance and how it was a money trap. Which she emphasized when she saw the mini shrine statues where people were leaving change as offering for luck. When I tried to explain they are mimicking what is done in Shinto shrines SHE LAUGHED AT EVERYONE. I may make fun of a lot of people, but even I try to respect spirituality… It got even worse when she kept taking water from various water stations in the park only to constantly spit it out and insult it… THEN END THE TOUR BY SAYING LOCAL PARKS ARE FREE AND PRETTIER….

My Aunt decided to remark in her loud New York voice and persona at every single person who passed us and politely asked us to lower our voices. It is a majority silent garden where people come for peace. THERE WAS NOTHING RUDE OR OFFENSIVE FOR WHAT THEY WERE ASKING. I mean everyone in our family was quickly walking through the gardens anyways without looking. What was there for you to stop and talk about.

And there is my mom. My lovely, sweet All-American, blonde cherub of a mother. I WILL NEVER ALLOW YOU IN A PLACE THAT IS IMPORTANT TO ME AGAIN. Forget trying to share common interests, forget having a simple basic conversation with your daughter. Forget all of that! No matter how much you are frustrated with me, UNJUSTLY FOR A WEEK STRAIGHT OF TORMENT I MIGHT ADD, you don’t say stupid fucking cunty shit.

First, you call me dirty, disgusting and belonging in the woods in the morning, because I changed from washing my hair from everyday to every other day or every two days. A thing that I was doing, because I NEED TO FREAKING HEAL MY HAIR THAT IS DAMAGED. Oh no, you don’t stop the day there. You enter my peaceful refuge and in the middle of a crowd of plant appreciating people yell that I am fat. That my trainer, who by the way if you listened your daughter at all in any conversation is there for helping me regain atrophied muscle and mobility, is failing because I look like shit. OH AND LET US REMIND OURSELVES HOW I AM A BITCH, UNWORTHY, MONSTER, COLD, LAZY, STUPID, ETC…. person in front of this now gawking crowd of people. Then follow me off into a side path to scream at me for not meeting your ideals as the perfect fucking daughter.

And even after all of this. I still feel like crap, because you know what. I entered a state I haven’t been in years! I blacked out for a moment. I didn’t see anything or know what I did. I only know that I felt myself falter and try to regain my balance. But I could tell what I did, I gave you a light kick to the back of the leg to shut you up.

Something I can’t even take satisfaction in because, (1) it is wrong to lift your hand to anyone in that manner, (2) it occurred in a state I was not in control of and (3) YOU DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING SHUT UP. No, the only thing that happened is me self reflecting in the car ride home. Remembering the one and only ever time before this something like this has happened…

I was around thirteen. Our problems had been escalating the last year or two with your insanity getting worse and my general emergence into puberty… Bullying in school was getting worse and I myself was sinking deep into something I wouldn’t yet have a name for. I was in the kitchen making breakfast as I did every day for you, even if I knew you were going to not eat it and throw it out anyways. What the fight about I can’t remember. But I will always remember that feeling of blacking out and coming back into yourself only to see a surprising a result. A result that you instantly wish was satisfying, but has the complete opposite effect. At the park, it was kicking you. Back then, it was the sight of egg dripping down your face. I had cracked them on your head… A surprisingly creative thing though.

My favorite place was ruined for me though the moment I made that connection. It would be a place where I was brought back too one of my worst memories. A time when I was so out of control, because of my feelings, I literal lost myself. It made me realize it’s not just pain, hurt, guilt, sadness I have for my family. There is a large boiling cauldron of resentment that doesn’t want to just stay in the pot anymore.

I kind of wonder now… with another place leaving my list of safety zones where I can go to escape everything. Where can I go to calm my mind or get rid of a migraine…

I sort of wish Ukiyo was as true as the stories. I could bend down right by the edge of a pool of water and reach out towards a reflection…Where I went or what the place was didn’t really matter. It was just disconnected, separate, more realistic than a fantasy, but still yet a fantasy.

It would be a completely different world… wouldn’t it?

I.L. Knight

 

 

hotaru-no-hikari

Japanese Instrumental

 

 

*The picture has a cat in it o(≧∇≦o). This almost a perfect recreation of what I wish for my retirement.*

The Classic Bagel Joint :

Every Jewish girl, boy, appreciator has normally one constant in their lives: a good bagel place that knows them since they were children. So naturally, I do as well. A place that stockpiles the good tofu cream cheese and nova. Although, if we are being honest they need to improve their sturgeon game (seriously, it is so dry).

Today, though, in a place where everyone knows everyone, I was embarrassed. With my family it is always the same conversation. My grandfather tells me all the natural remedies and the power of Tumeric and says that will solve everything. It goes on for twenty minutes, as I get lectured on my dependency on medication and how I shouldn’t do my Humera paperwork, because it has so many side effects. I eventually get frustrated with him, because let’s face my entire family ‘cares’ a lot about my illness and has down all the research. You inability to even name what I have, or generally know my health concerns is a great example.

Still, the embarrassment wasn’t coming from me having to tell my grandfather, “Enough. It’s an auto-immune disease, dad. I don’t get to just take Turmeric every night and I will be cured. Besides, I already do take Turmeric every night!”, it came from walking over to my grandmother afterwards. Her words,” Stop it. That’s all you ever talk about. You and your list of problems. I’m tired, or I hurt. We know. You sound like no vaccine people. Natural cures do work sometimes…” You know why you guys can’t name what I have or my symptoms, MAYBE IT IS BECAUSE SINCE I FIRST STARTED HAVING HEALTH PROBLEMS YOU NEVER LET ME FINISH THE LIST OF ISSUES THAT NEEDED TO BE ADDRESSED BECAUSE THAT WAS CALLED COMPLAINING AND DEPRESSION TO YOU. The immediate answer every time can’t be a cut off, positive story, and now let me inspire motivation. Just acknowledge that waking up feeling like your body is on fire, SUCKS ASS. Acknowledge that I try so hard to keep with your beliefs and not be my mother and avoid relying on medication. I avoid pain killers, nerve-blockers, I even try to maintain sleep without sleeping pills, so I am succeeding on my own strength. Why you got to constantly embarrass me like that?

The woman at the cash register even felt like she needed to say something. Her sister has Lupus, so she said she sort of understood what I was going through. I thanked her, said her sister was brave and lucky to have her, got a free coffee, and a good luck from her. You see. Normal way to engage in conversation. Normal actions. No embarrassment.

I really hate that I write about this stuff so much lately. It’s like all the time my writing is about this and all I want to do is be writing about other things…But this is a part of my life now…a big part…a part I’m struggling with, because it affects everything around me and can change me so much. I can’t predict how I’ll be the next day. I can only hope my pre-planning works out. Fevers out of nowhere, forgetting things a lot one day, not being able to concentrate because your brain can literally not follow a sentence, and the constant check ins to monitor your medication or general health is my new life. It’s uncharted rough waters. You don’t know how to stop you from waking up one day and not being able to lift your knee up more than a few inches, or it being a day where you can’t leave your bed for awhile because you are stuck in a position you don’t remember laying in.

You are just in everyone else’s eyes weak and depressed. Even if you know you aren’t depressed, because of how you can see yourself struggling. I mean, I struggle to try and live through this chaotic ups and downs and even try to be strong, to be happy, to recognize I can’t carry the luggage from my past, and that I have to accept things because my body has no other option at this point. Still, I can’t argue it does make me mentally tired. Explaining these things over and over and not getting the results I want, because I myself can’t decide what I want to hear…I can’t even be a good friend sometimes, because I can’t handle another person.

It weighs heavily on my mind how when this all started I didn’t listen to my gut feelings about this all and got to the point I was at. How I can’t lose the weight I gained in any quick manner, because I can’t do the cardio that would burn those calories, and even if I did I need to dedicate time to body weight training sessions to maintain mobility and regain atrophied muscles… It eats away at me SO MUCH.

There’s a reason I am at a bagel place for my cheat day. I need to be able to eat a proper bagel more then every three to four months. I am a Jewish girl. OKAY. We live on this stuff. It is part of our culture. There is even a Yiddish saying about lacking bagels, “Lign in drerd un bakn beygl!” It directly means, May you lie in the ground and bake bagels… In other words, you should burn in hell and be depraved of bagels you are being forced to create. Bagels are serious man….

So can you at least not embarrass me at our bagel joint? Our last name even means bagel…..It should be sacred ground.

I.L. Knight

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Tradition – Fiddler On The Roof