I'll need some ice for this burn

I'd like to take this opportunity to remind the world that the internet is an open forum. Nothing is ever deleted completely, nothing is ever entirely lost. Once you've put it online, that's it. Then end. No takebacks.

That goes for everything from your Facebook status to Tumblr reblogs to the MySpace you had when you were twelve.

That being said, I'm upset. I'm scrolling along my Tumblr dash, completely innocently, and I saw a text post from a friend of a friend. Nothing new. It was a beautiful comparison of love to a cigarette burn, and I thought it was lovely. So I reblogged it. Does any of this seem out of the ordinary? No? As I thought.

Next thing I know, the original poster is contacting me personally wanting me to remove the post from my blog because it was extremely personal and had no business being there. I responded, surprised, and asked what the problem was. It's the internet, right? Why post something if you didn't want it shared? Plus, I'm not even friends with this person! I reblogged it from a mutual connection!

Next thing I know I'm being reamed in text form for "trying to teach [them] a lesson instead of just deleting the post like [they] asked". I received this message directly AFTER I deleted the post, as I was asked.

Um. I'm as happy to be obliging as the next person, but I'm still confused. And now I'm hurt. If it was so extremely personal and you didn't want people seeing it, then why did you post it on the internet? And why was it so ridiculously offensive that I reblogged the post- that's what everyone does on Tumblr! Are you trying to make me feel bad for being normal and ordinary?

I deleted the post, per request. I'm not a complete jerk. But I'm still kind of upset about it because I don't feel the situation was fair to me. I hate that someone who doesn't know me from Eve was able to get under my skin and make me feel awful on the inside for something that logically was not my fault in any way.

Now I feel even worse, because I think that it may have been some kind of romantic connection or something, between my friend and the original poster. I'd hate to think that the original poster getting into a fight with me ruined my friend's chance at a relationship (regardless of how much I may now think that my friend deserves better than someone who can't even figure out the internet).

Oh well. There's nothing to be done but forget it. It's not like I'll ever have to deal with this person in reality. At least, I don't think so. At this point, I honestly hope not.

Because if this person, whoever they are, had no qualms about harshly burning a complete stranger on the internet for no reason, I'd hate to find out what they're capable of doing to their friends.

Angels and Demons

Have you ever woken up one morning and just wondered, What the ever-loving hell am I doing with my life?

I do. In fact, I did this morning. I’ve been doing it a lot lately.

Today, what I’m going to do is take two of my most recent posts and mash them together to try and sum up how I’ve been feeling for the past several months.

In high school, I was punk/goth. My playlists consisted of mostly Skillet, Evanescence, Within Temptation, Linkin Park, and Nickelback. I was a drama nerd- not popular, but I had enough friends to not feel alone. Better yet, I preferred my smallish circle of weird, nerdy friends to the popular people at my school. It was a niche, it was mine, and I liked it.

My friends and I had dreams. Me, I was going to be a Broadway star, or a film actress. Maybe a writer. Regardless, I was going to be some kind of glamorous. I woke up every morning and put on my black fishnet gloves as a way of saying, Yeah, I stick out. Look at me, I’m one of THEM, those artsy people. We were like the Children of the Revolution, the ones who really experienced the world in a way few others did. Whether we were right or (more likely) delusional was irrelevant. What mattered was how we felt about it. In our eyes, we were ruggedly beautiful. We weren’t normal, that would be boring. We were angels and demons, faeries and wolves. We saw raw energy in the world, and our only real desire was to reflect it like mirrors. Music, theater, poetry, prose- we used any medium we could.

I could have sat and listened for hours to Skillet’s “Comatose” album, or Within Temptation’s “Black Symphony” concert DVD. I could be Comatose, Frozen, Jillian, Lucy, Breaking the Habit or wanting to be a Rockstar. My dreams were a part of me. I used to think that they were my vision of the future, something I used to distract myself from what I was really like, but looking back, I think I may have been wrong. Those are the things I most remember about myself. I remember putting on black eyeliner and straightening my hair, wearing combat boots with miniskirts. I remember the drama of it all.

I miss the drama.

When people ask me what I’m going to do when I graduate, I almost want to say I’m going back to how I used to be. I’m starting to think that I may be happiest if I can work in a live event coverage scene. I want to film concerts. I want to use my passion for ‘the artsy stuff’ for more than just TV news. I want to create, and I want to showcase the things I find beautiful. I’m tired of getting up every day just to go through the motions again. Doubtless my high school days were just as mundane as today is, but this isn’t how I want to remember it.  If I need to start dressing in all black and studded leather again, I’ll do it.

I just want to feel and see the beautiful again. Maybe I’m just being overemotional today, but maybe not.

All I can say is this- If I get my way, I’ll be filming rock concerts before I’m thirty. Sound cocky? Good.