Rightio, guys! Welcome to my world! It's great in here, albeit the landscapes may appear a little cerebral and neurotic sometimes. I lead the fine young life of an Irish student. Yes, student life is... well, chaotic. Effective organisation is always precluded by the necessities of student life (i.e. sleeping erratic hours, inconsistently meeting inconsistent deadlines, and an all-round simultaneous lack of planning and spontaneity). I am doing what I love (that's binge-reading on metaphysics and critical theory and writing highfalutin essays on it all), and even if it doesn't make me happy, that's okay, because I'm doing the right thing with my life right now. Clarity helps.

Happiness (whatever it is) is a thoroughly overused term these days. Why on earth should I be happy just because I have everything and my life is pretty darn good?! 'Erm... perhaps because you have everything and your life is pretty darn good...?' This is called circular reasoning, a logical fallacy. In fact, the entire pursuit of happiness in itself is both illogical and pointless. For a fact, nothing makes me happy. Ought I be stricken now by an avalanche of guilt? Not really. It's okay to feel whatever you feel and it is absolutely ridiculous to feel what someone else (or society, in fact) tells you to feel, because that's even more absurd that not feeling good, when life's good. In fact, the pursuit of happiness makes people depressed, because it's cheating logic and breaking down the faculties we rely on to make clear distinctions between things!

I like my life. I don't like my depression. I live life with depression. I do not live a depressed life. When I am really depressed I am not living my life, but this has nothing to do with my life and everything to do with my depression. It is important when I am very depressed to never wish my depression to end, because this would mean ending my life. And I like my life. It is much more likable than my depression. It only makes sense to say, then, that I like my life more than I can ever dislike my depression, because depression requires life in order to exist and wishing my life to end because it will end my depression is completely absurd, because it denies the origin of depression, which is not life, but absurdity. Yes, depression is absurd, but life is not and in order to affirm what is true and meaningful (i.e. the fact that depression is absurd) we must affirm life.

Of course, it may appear to be problematic when philosophers say that life is absurd and melancholia is a natural reaction to the absurdity of life. This may be true (and if it is it becomes difficult to distinguish depression from life), but even these philosophers find a way of affirming life, even if only in spite. For Camus, absurdity must be affirmed because our lucidity is the basis of all that we have. According to him, we must continue to push the boulder up the hill knowing it will fall back down, because acknowledging the pointlessness of this task liberates us to accept it. For Kierkegaard, it is defiance: rejection of help or escape which gives us strength to be our own and endure. For Nietzsche, life, suffering and all the tragedy in the world must be relished in order to rise above the adversity of slavery and become masters of ourselves through strength and creativity.

I'm a teen and I have an Anxiety and Depression disorder, I'm not positive but I may also have mild OCD. I'm really new too this website and forums so sorry if I do this wrong . I have so much running through my mind right now that it's really hard to decide what to say, so sorry again if what I say doesn't make sense. My parents have always been the over-protective type, both of their childhoods sucked and apparently they were both bullied tons. Unlike them, I was never bullied at school or anything like that I quite liked it, but I hate it at home. My parents like to start a fight over basically everything, either if it's with me or with each other, but either way, it always ends up my fault. I have a younger sister too, she's currently the age of 10 and I'm pretty sure she stopped aging at 6. I mean she's always had it easy, and her attitude towards me has never changed. I was never allowed to watch TV other then Family channel or Disney until late Grade 6, but she started as soon as I did... Meaning she was only in grade 2. Meaning, my mum thinks that everything I can do or/have she can do or/have. Moving on, my mom always treats me like I am her when she was my age. She decided I was a Tom-boy, that I don't like "girly things" like clothes, make-up, dating, going to the mall, going to the spa or looking good. And she really had be convinced that I was that person for a while, but once I was a little older (around 10, but not the dating part tbh none of my friends have even dated before.) I noticed that all my friends liked those things now too. I was getting older, and I wanted to act more like my gender. That's normal isn't it? Well, after all my friends changed more "girly" then they were before, I thought I should too and not just because they were but because I felt like I wasn't being who I really was. But to be completely honest, I was scared to change. Strangers looked at me and saw the fun-crazy-weird kid, the one that didn't want to grow up. And apparently my parents thought that too, so when I did start looking at different clothing at the stores when me and my mom went shopping she would say things like; "Oh no, that's nothing like you." or "Don't you think thats a bit too fancy?". When really all I would be showing was casual clothes, clothes that my close friends wore. My anxiety would kick in and I would just shut-up, agreeing to whatever she bought me. What really confuses me about this is that she always complains about the terrible clothing her mom bought her when she was a kid/teenager, and I thought that would make her want to treat me better? But I'm a teen now and guess what, you will still only find pairs of jeans and leggings in my closet with basic tees and you will only find a pair of runners and a pair of gumboots on the shoe rack that belong too me. It's not fair that I'm not allowed to grow up, I'm not allowed to be a girl, that I have been stuck in the same hole for my whole life and it's only getting bigger. All my friends wear mascara, a bit of eyeliner, eye shadow, lipstick, and all that crap, but I can only wear concealer and a bit of foundation (whatever the difference is) to hide my acne. Note: My friends are good friends, my parents have no problems with them and I have known them my whole life. Even though I'm currently only talking about 2 of them, because technically the rest left me for some unknown reason. But I do have other friends, although they are all online . Onto another subject now, remember it may not seem like much so far but thats because it's all the little things that build up inside of me. My parents like to fight with me or each other ALL THE TIME, it's really bad. When its just the two of them fighting, and it's...

[ Continued ]

So, my step brother took the plea. What now? What happens next? I have been preparing for the worst, and now I'm suppose to be happy? I don't understand.

I have always heard that when being accused of something (that you aren't and haven't done,) it's more than likely because your accuser is guilty of such. I'm certain this doesn't apply to every situation, but realistically, how often does this actually happen to you?

Based upon my husband's past experiences with a wife that cheated, drank, and drugged herself into a stupor, I understand his skepticism. I however, do not do anything at all similar, don't look similar, don't act or speak similarly. We are not the same. I am his second wife.

For the past year, it has turned into him yelling, screaming "shut your f***ing mouth" "listen to me when i speak to you" "you will respect me," and things of that nature. He tells me not to talk over him, not interrupt him, and then when I ask for a moment of his time, he cuts me off and uses his hands as a "stop" gesture to end what I have to say. In all honesty, I do not feel as though my husband respects me, or cares at all about the things I say. I am a very brutally honest and blunt, and some would say pessimistic person. I believe I just know better how to prepare for situations, and expect others to disappoint me, so I work things our in such a way that I do not get disappointed. I look at life with a very real sense of what can and cannot be accomplished in a given amount of time. I am very time-oriented.
My husband tells me that I assume to much. An example:
I tell him one thing in the A.M., he forgets by lunch 5 days in a row, and tells me that he forgot every evening. I tell him the same message on the 6th day, he gets bent out of shape because "I assumed he would forget and now I am nagging." I personally do not find that nagging or assuming. It is using deductive reasoning or taking what was learned from first-hand experiences, and applying it to the situation. This is something that happens every week.

He accuses me of being childish, immature, and needing to grow the f*** up.
I do not raise my voice at him. I am the mother of his child. I keep the house running. I am overseer of all of the financials. I went to college. I make more money than him. I have two college degrees. I am a female in a predominately male professional trade, decisive, direct, and dedicated. I have more real-world experience than he does. I am literal. To the point. Callous, if you will. I do not mince words. I say exactly what the situation calls for, and I use the correct vernacular for emotions and feelings. I had to grow up fast, and by whatever means necessary, while he grew up in the same house all his life, was the youngest of three children with a stay at home mother, and overly religious upbringing, had no responsibilities, and never been told no. I do not play games. He says I do. He is the one that plays games, blatantly ignoring repeated phone calls and going out of his way to make me feel inadequate.

Really, that's just two examples..but just this morning we had the biggest blow-up of our relationship because I asked for clarification on what he meant by a statement, and it turned into very seriously hurtful words and screaming.

Any advice, folks?

----Every new day can change one's life; Every new experience can deepen the realm within ones world. These notions run parallel, to the story of Johnny and The Cupcake Girl----

(Character Background. If looking for eroticism, skip to next chapters.)

Prelude: Aromatic Cupcakes

The sun was beaming through the cracks of the curtains - Johnny woke up, always curious as to what the day would entail. Getting ready for work at the store was a very systematic process for him. Every slight movement, down to the way he dried off his vascular body after a steaming shower, was replicated with exact precision.

Coffee and cigarettes. The fix of the morning, yet today they seemed ever so weak. Bitter sensations on the tongue - Johnny needing something new.. Something sweet.

His inner world was intense. Always maneuvering, always watching - ever changing. Those simpletons who he sped by on the inter-state know no sensation similar to the ones concocted by Johnny's dis-inhibited mind.

Many are curious, but few truly venture. Today was the day, like so many before, that one curious, light-hearted being, would accept any contingencies within coffee shop: The Cupcake Girl. After all, what was life for the young girl without knowledge of the unknown? She was so full of life, full of energy, but being virgin to many experience which she knew exist, felt like a ghost on a winding path.. She was so confused about the world.. People and their intentions.. What she wanted.. What she stood for.. The Cupcake Girl needed something stable - Something definite. Something, to hold on to.

Unbeknownst to the depths of the labyrinth, The Cupcake Girl took the leap of faith that was so intrinsic to her nature, and necessary to develop her ever curious mind regarding that of which she had no experience.

Her name was Pricilla. And she smelled exactly like she looked.