  Thanks to Jennifer for sending me urlLink this link to some interesting images. The sexualizing of children troubles me, but in terms of art for arts sake, its a good bit of work.. My mind is lulled into repose this evening. Gave myself the right to tune out and turn up the music after the conclusion of my hardest class this term. And after submitting my resume to another two companies. One being SAIC, a company my dad works with (or used to work for, too - I forget). I told my mom about it tonight, in part to tell her what Im up to and also to boost my credibility as her unemployed and physically disabled youngest.
See? Im not resting on my laurels. My laurels are broken, so how could I? No, my laurels are few and far between. Thats the concern she has that Im wishing to prove in my favor. One job I had to skip over.
Because the last line in the description read: Security Clearance a plus. Me? A security clearance. Mom and I had a good laugh at that one. What have I done in my life that would owe itself to such a thing? Theres so no possibility of earning one, I wouldnt even accept a job knowing that they may ask me to apply for one sometime down the road.
Im not sure, but I think my relationship to my father would exclude me, aside from any indiscretions of my own. He had his revoked back in the day. Asshole, unjust government. Thats book #2. It was once pointed out to me that my sense of self is battered back and forth between arrogance and suicide. Maybe not in such extremes, but I agree with the assessment.
Its easy to get my foot in the door to things like jobs. But when it comes to the 4 oclock hour of the night and Im awake again and staring out 1,000 yards ahead of me, I can hardly see myself taking a shower the next day. Of course, theres reason for it. The weight of unreasonable expectations. It fuels both ends of the spectrum. It helps to get me where I want to go.
And truly, most of the time I have no trouble believing my over-confident self. I think its my propensity for unclothed honesty that brings me back to a more critical view. As in, accuracy of perception. I seem to forget about all the people I know who are successful, the ones who I could deconstruct to infants at first glance. They just dont show their cards with everything they do. Why do I feel the obligation?
Still holding myself hostage for the guilt past lives have given me? Yes, this is resting for me. Pealing back my skin is my long-loved pastime. Time to play, sing along 
