These are characters that often remind me most of my life–not necessarily myself, but people who I have met that stay with you.
Like that old woman at the bus stop who tells you her life story and you’re no longer able to watch Forest Gump. Her story was so much better.
Today, Jasmine weighs heavily on my chest. Jasmine, with Blue eyes and a lost life, who had everything in order to get away only to loose it all. Oh, Jasmine, who has lost touch with reality around her.
Jasmine, who can’t put things behind her so easily.
She reminds me of so many women I’ve known and met in my life, whose identity is wrapped tightly around their men. Who unravel when they leave and thus begins the incessant ramblings about a life they once had to an audience that no longer listens. Blue Jasmine still is a cautionary tale for women across the modern ages: don’t trust men & don’t live in a fantasy for nothing good ever lasts. Not even love.
It is also the tip of a deep fear, the kind that lives so far under the sea, that even the mention of it sends you for the shores.
The fear that says even when happiness is in front of you, you’ll continue the same path of self destruction.
Who are you without a partner, anyways, little girl?
The unease of this trip that I first felt is no longer with me, instead a state of perpetual melancholy and sore legs have replaced it. It feels like home.
I have no problem being alone, I felt Guilt for experiencing something so great alone, and honestly what of my own moral compass has been compromised? Jesus Tori, you’re so damn dramatic. Oh yes, I have only glorified self sacrifice and denial my whole damn life.
This has been replaced, instead with exsistential dread.
Why am I here? Why are any of us here? What is my *purpose* in life, and honestly, why can’t I be Kierkegaardian in my approach to life. I wish I could just make a choice and stick with it, comfortable in my own decision. That would be my authenticity.
I should become religious and let myself succumb to a “higher” power. I’ve always been so entranced by those nuns and monks who got visions from God and worked their whole life fulfilling their divine purpose.
That is probably exactly why I love hallucinogens so much, I am just waiting for that right mushroom to get God to talk to me too.
Instead, I am, sigh, forced to inact my own will. Choose a path when I see a million possibilities in front of me. I’ll vibe with as many as a can when I can, while I’m here. This freedom is an imprisonment of its own, isn’t it? Free will has only left us riddled with self doubt and insecurity. Hannah Arendt would do nicely here. Wouldn’t she?
All those YouTube guru’s are fooling themselves into believing they’ve “hacked” the human mind and the human spirit—silly Silicon Valley girls and boys—you need to step away from the computer screen and get lost in the forest for a bit. Come back and tell me this is all a simulation.
And of course, the age old broken record: I can’t believe people are still having babies when there is global warming to worry about.
Kate bush plays in my head:
It’s a broken record for a reason. We are such dangerous creatures to the place we call home.
I got lost in the forest, you can read this as a metaphor, as I got *lost* in the forest, or you can take it at face value.
Both happened.
Sometimes, I forget how to read a sign and it happens: I get lost repeating the same steps and walking down familiar paths. It’s almost as if we don’t learn, but we do, the mistakes don’t hang on as long as they used to. We keep on keeping on.
For four hours I couldn’t figure out where the hell I was and found myself by the waterfall twice. Wasn’t I just here? I took a picture just to prove to myself that I was, indeed here. And it wasn’t that I disassociated. I literally took a wrong turn, and another, and another. And Omg. I swear I’ve seen that tree before, but this time it is mocking me.
Okay, I’ll laugh along too. My heart needs this.
I’m so lazy, I probably should walk up these death flights of stairs twice. What a better way to handle myself and my afternoon.
I should have worn sunblock.
When I finally found my car, thanking the lords of Cobalt, and peeing behind a bush, I rewarded myself with a delicious HUGE veggie lunch at some lush gardens, a big cup or two of tea, and a walk around.
My legs were like Jelly and my back was cursing at me for carrying such a heavy backpack for so long.
I took a quick nap when I returned to the hotel, a quick shower & soak, and drank a title too much beer and never enough whiskey and found myself watching terrible lesbian drama films on Netflix. Remember when the LGBTQ section on Netflix used to be good? Profound even? I’d find myself watching those films and those stories more often then their hetero counterparts. After awhile, don’t you get bored with the same love stories told?
Women ~are~ more interesting, anyhow.
I do. The human experience is too vast to want to watch the same story, in a different setting, over and over again.
If I’m going to watch a straight rom-com, I’ll stick to my favorite sub genre—old people. God damn, do I love an old person romance, staring our love and Queen of uptight & neurotic perfection: Diane Keaton. Sigh, I can’t wait to be old.
Or maybe I want to be a wealthy east coaster with a pad in Martha’s Vineyard? Who is Martha, how did that bitch get a vineyard?
Today I drove three hours to the cliffs of Moher. Have you driven the country roads in Ireland before? Jesus, Satan, Zeus, Vishnu, I have to call on them all to give me the strength to drive 100km through those tight corridors with a tour buss barreling its way towards me.
But the cliffs.
This is what I was most excited for on this trip, and damn did they NOT disappoint. I am so happy I got to see this tourists attractions, because honestly, totally worth the entire flight and road trip. I couldn’t imagine how packed they are during the summer because they were still pretty packed in December.
And this is the slow season ay? Okay, I’ll stick to the slow season.
I’m falling in love with this slow season. After all, it is my slow season too.
I’ve missed writing these types of posts so much, it’s honestly the best way I can understand and process everything going on in my head and the day to day experiences. I had someone once tell me, “There are two Toris the one that presents herself to us and the one that is in her blog.”
And I feel like Queen Elizabeth this way, my public persona, the one which interacts with others in the corporeal world and this one, the one that is the authentic version of myself. And they’re starting to merge into this beautiful creature that even I am falling in love with.
You don’t have to, but I can guarantee you’ll stay a while and have a cup fo tea with me.
I walked around for hours today and trekked a distance. I found myself at a fort on the outskirts of Kinsale. The physical barriers and beautiful vantage of the sea reminded me, oodly, of relationships, friendships, ones that come and go.
I began to grieve for those who were in my life and who are no longer present. I’m not talking about death. I’m talking about relationships that no longer feel right.
I’ve been used by many women, so called friends, in my life. And when I no longer have nothing else to offer, I was discarded on the wayside. Isn’t that interesting? How these friendships mirror exactly how adults had treated me in the past, using me for information and then leaving me on the wayside when I no longer was valuable to them. I don’t have to name names, but if the shoe fits.
Every step I took today sent me down memory lane, another memory flooding my mind until I no longer was in this time. Things said and feelings of unease and discomfort. I rarely stuck up for myself. I Let these people use me.
I was a maid of honor for one friend who no longer talks to me, and honestly it all boiled down to the fact that she never cared for me in the first place. That was a beautiful realization. I let it go, I let her go.
I’m incredibly giving, kind, full of love, really a great time, and I have no room in my life for people who want to take advantage of that or use me only when it is convienent. That’s not human connection. I am rising higher.
Today’s theme can be summed up with one word: gratitude.
I learned a valuable lesson, to accept and honor the experiences that have molded me into the woman I have become.
Let me tell you about my day.
I left my wonderful airbnb in Dublin at 900 in the morning. I was on the road by 9:30. Stinky mouthed flirting boy was there, this time he did his hair and looked like he showered. He was too excited to see me. I almost vomited when he opened his mouth.
Jesus take the wheel.
It is easier to drive on the left then everyone led me to believe. I’m a fantastic driver so I knew the switch would be easier for me.
I drove almost two hours to a place called Cashel Rock, which is a giant Cathedral/Castle/Ruins out in Cashel. Driving those narrow streets was insane. Between trying to figure out where I was going and following the GPS, I almost hit someone. First time in my life.
After Cashel I was incredibly exhausted and drove another two hours over to Kinsale, which is in county cork, it is a beautiful seaside town that is rather adorable. You know one of those poster card places you want to spend the rest of your life as a granny in? Yeah, it is one of those.
I still can’t believe that my hotel room is THIS nice. Booking through Discover Ireland was probably the best decision I have made on this trip so far. Honestly, Nothign makes me happier than a lush bathroom and comfortable bed with fluffy sheets and this one has it all.
I had a revelation between driving alone, walking around, alone, and letting my thoughts over take me.
I am unstoppable. I am magic. I’ve spent so much of my life being ashamed of so much, and really it was just voices in my head and voices of supposed family members in the pat who never made me feel good enough or loved.
I am a queen. I went from being a homeless teenager with my mother and brother in Florida to accomplishing so much in my life. And honestly, I give no fucks. I have nothing to apologize for, and EVERYTHING to celebrate. I am powerful. The universe has always looked out for me because I have an inner drive and belief in myself every since I was little.
You can’t fuck with me.
Sure, it has gotten muddled along the way, but the Truth has always been inside of me, guiding me.
I must embrace this powerful goddess and honor her, trust her instincts, voice and needs. This trip is all about being selfish and doing what I want. It is the greatest present to myself.
What can I begin to muster for this blog post? Isn’t it incredibly frustrating to have so many thoughts in your head only to be unable to write them down on a computer screen. It is as if the disconnect between the physical and material world is too much for my body to fight through right now.
I was spontaneous.
Gasp.
I did not plan a day and asked the front desk at the hostel to book me for a group tour to the Wicklow mountains, and I am so glad i was able to visit Glendalough.
I met fellow solo traveling ladies and we spent the day having intense conversations, crying together and laughing. Heartily. Fairies allowed us to see something on the way back that was previously hidden to us. We weren’t ready yet.
And then they decided: you are. You are ready.
So we left a wish, a passing and a blessing. I asked them to look over my Oma and Opa in heaven.
There were so many things that were left exposed and raw, moments that I wanted to speak my truth but I found it difficult to fully explain my story. Suddenly, I felt that I no longer needed to explain and instead I listened, listened and learned and observe. I passed no judgement and no judgement was passed onto me.
Ireland is INDEED a magical place, a place of learning. Silent welcoming to enter, stay for as long as you like. And to go on when you know & feel it is time to go.
Today, a different sort of magic happened.
A quick panic engulfed my morning due to a miscommunication with the booking agency, a hidden fee and tears of fear: I had miscalculated a cost and I was worried. Damn Dublin, why do you have to be expensive? And why are there are these extra fees to renting a car?
The guy who helped me had horrid breath. It made me nauseas. Please, for the love that is all that is good in this world get a damn tick tack. You work in customer service.
He said he’d see me tomorrow and I hoped to god he was kidding, or at least, remembered to bring a toothbrush with him in the morning.
He thought he was flirting. I thought I was dying.
Talk about miscommunication.
I took a taxi over to the National Botanical Gardens and spent an hour walking around kindred spirits, plants that reached out and begged to touch you and asked if you could touch them, gently, softly. I cried at their beauty and they whispered they loved me.
I believe it.
I met fellow photographers and lovers and took their pictures and everything aligned correctly. We made beautiful, delicate and intimate images that I hope they cherish forever. I know I will.
I hope they understood how incredible that moment was for me, how divinely important it was to create in an environment and situation in time that was unfamiliar, I think we all taught each other so much. I know I learned a hell of a lot from their kind and beautiful souls.
This evening was spent eating cup of noodles and drinking Guinness. I think I will find myself many evening doing exactly THIS on the trip. Quietly creating, writing and relaxing. Drink in hand and cheap food in the other, reflective and unapologetic of the events that presented itself like a tapestry of many colors.
Perhaps, I, like Dolly, will write a song about it. I have a feeling it’d be a little more melancholy though.
When we are honest on social media, people often point that you will have a good time, try do x, y, z. Social media often forces us, and in turn makes us only comfortable, with things that are often painted in a positive light.
This can be seen everywhere, how many times have you liked a picture of your friend with a baby, commented on it, or their adorable dog or travel adventure, but passed the friend who is hurting, or posting something that we deem as “negative.”
Honesty, vulnerability. These concepts make us uncomfortable. Although, we all claim to want honesty, vulnerability and GASP authenticity. But what if all those things, as a reader make you feel uncomfortable?
What if sharing them, as the writer, makes me feel uncomfortable too? The human experience is more than just a glossy picture book of your highlights. You can have an awful day and still have a good time. We are emotional centered creatures and sometimes, as I learned from a good friend today, you can’t rationalize away emotions. They are just that, emotions.
Has my experienced changed since my first post? Sure, but despite that I am leaning into the uncomfortable experience, it is still a less than ideal situation. And in that, you start to explore the inner psyche a little more.
I think this may be quicker than therapy. (I joke, I joke).
I’ve spent many evenings (except tonight, as I needed a break) going to a local pub called Ryan, named after a good friend. Drinking Guinness and enjoying the atmosphere. The place is a little more quiet and relaxed, and I like that. Also the bathrooms are really nice, which is always a plus. Seriously, nothing sucks more than drinking and having to use a shit bathroom.
This experience makes me laugh—I’ve dreamt of being a travel blogger, it often looks so wonderful and beautiful, full of positivity, exploration and spiritual change. What a load of horse maneur.
The nihilistic travel blogger. That would be my niche.
I’d throw a little glitter in.
Last night, at Ryan’s (as mentioned above), I had a delightful lengthy conversation with two Italian lovers and tourists. We talked about everything from travel to love to even *gasp* politics.
It was a joyous time and we drank heavily. Ate a shitty pizza and called it a night.
Today I awoke in a sour mood, my emotions heavy upon me, eyes heavy with tears. I took a two hour buss ride to an estate known as “Ardgillan Castle” (Hard G, d on’t make that mistake). It was gorgeous, the grounds were breathtaking and the gardens were such a great mix between efficiency, and design & the forest was a great mix between it being a food forest and one pleasant to the eye.
Basically goals.
As a child I watched “The Secret Garden” more times than I care to admit, and even now as an adult i find myself watching it at least once a year. It is such a joy.
Also, there was a dog friendly Cafe, so I got to pet a dog. That brightened my mood.
Tomorrow I am heading to Wicklow. I’ll update more then. I have to catch the bus at 9:15 am. not too early, but early enough to try and get some sleep. (Damn these pillows, damn them and my stiff neck #QueenProblems)
Please do not conclude that my misery is making this trip unbearable. If anything, it is opening my eyes to the shadows that hide in the light & the clarity they bring.
“Dancing with the devil, call it respect, call it fear. But we never allow the Devil to the party.”
Don’t worry he’s not coming home with me. He stays in Ireland.
Could it be possible to be this miserable to be on a solo trip? I wonder if my mood will continue to go down south or if today will prove to be an extraordinary adventure.
Perhaps this is what travel blogs do not tell you, the reality and how terrible it actually is to travel alone. I should have brought gloves my fingers are cold.
I booked myself at a hostel thinking that there would be a plethora of fellow travelers who want to expand their friend group. What i found was that there were a town of travelers, do not get me wrong, but they all seem to be engaged in their own group that came along with them. They have no willingness to add to it—that I can accept.
It is strange though, when I am with a group I feel like we pick up “strays” all the time. “Come join us!” Tends to be our motto. Maybe it is my resting bitch face, or maybe, it is how this particular hostel is set up. I’ve heard it is more commercialized, and I see that, it doesn’t seem to encourage, particularly, group activities or has centers really where individuals can meet together.
I guess I could go on the pub crawl.
I’ve been so nauseous on this trip, I couldn’t imagine adding more to that.
I booked myself a private airbnb starting Wednesday. Thanks God. If I am going to be alone, I would like to be in the solitude of my own space. Match my surroundings to my mood.
I know i probably sound ungrateful, but I really don’t care. I spend too much of my time and life glossing everything over in a positive framework. To make everything seem okay.
Spending this much time alone in the city was a mistake. I know all of this will change once I’m in the countryside. I don’t mind road tripping alone, and i love the country. .
Cities make me so damn uncomfortable. All the people, cars, I get lost starring at graffiti and so disgusted by all the spitting and trash everywhere.
Hey, at least now i can stop romanticizing solo traveling. *silver lining* And that is a learning lesson for sure. Everything is better in life with your best friend and lover by your side.
I honestly know so little about myself (INFJ problems) this is probably a good experience. Healing. At least that is what my girlfriend tells me and she’s one of the most intuitive and interesting people I know. So, I am going to go with her words of advice.
Today I am going to try and head out to Howth. It’s a little seaside town on the outskirts of Dublin. It should take like an hour to get there by train/bus (not sure, have to google it again). I think getting out of the city and just using this space as a hub will be good for me. Actually I don’t know what will be good for me, so I am going to go try it. Plus I got this pass card that I can use unlimited for 72 hours so I probably should take advantage of that.
Being a fangirl is tough work. It’s a full time job and one that I’ve been a professional at since I was 13. Fangirling takes dedication, commitment, obsession and creation. Fangirling is such a large part of my personality, I wonder how on the day-to-day I function as a normal adult. Wow! I paid the bills today? Amazing! I thought I had spent the last 8 hours thinking about the fanfiction I am writing!
I like to think of fangirling as the creative expression to counter passive consumption. I write fanfiction. I create photoshop works about my fandoms that I am part of. I create so that I don’t just consume. In a way, this gives me the feeling that I am in a dialectic relationship with those who create the piece (or person) I am a fangirl about and myself. I have more agency here and YES LADIES I AM HERE FOR IT..
Fanfiction, as of late, has been such a saving grace to disconnect from the world for a moment. It gives my brain the reset it needs to live in pure fantasy and to write something for fellow fans that we all enjoy and find pleasure in. When I think about fanfiction, I think of it’s political significance to the fan community. Fanfiction is the space in which people are able to express their deepest darkest fantasies, highlight and showcase Queer characters and LGTBQIA relationships that aren’t often portrayed or shown on television.
It is a space of indulgence, of celebration, a safe space to try new creative endeavors, fail and get back and try again. It is a space of pleasure, delicious, delicious pleasure.
For the last year I have been slowly writing a fanfiction for the Australian TV show Wentworth with my husband. It has been such a fun and new experience to create something like this with someone else and we’ve been having a BLAST. We are both FreakyTits shippers, meaning, we want Vera Bennett and Joan Ferguson to get together and just have babies already darn it! Our fanfiction is called Agnust Dei, we felt that Vera’s worship and Joan’s eventual downfall was fitting of such a sacrificial name. If you’re interested in reading about a dysfunctional relationship that is akin to Power-Over instead of Power-With, you can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8041387/chapters/18417355
Sometimes I find myself up late at night writing and rewriting scenes of Agnus Dei. At work, photographing a wedding, I’ll hear someone say something, or witness a moment and think “This would be great for my fanfiction.” It’s a full time love affair.
Here is a cute fanvideo AS Larie created that I am obsessed with. (Fun fact: I learned how to video edit due to making fanvideos like this one!)
It’s difficult to just talk about fanfiction when discussing fangirling. It’s all connected, fan videos, fan graphics, fanfiction, TUMBLR. Honestly, I’m inspired by all of this when I am writing my fanfiction so why not include it all?
Here’s my challenge to you all, if you’ve never read a fanfiction, go ahead and read one. Archive of Our Own is my favorite resource to find a multitude of fanfictions. (or you can always read mine , linked above). What fandoms are you part of? Let me know below!
When I was a child, I thought my prime in life would be 25. 25, I thought, would be the time when I would obviously be a millionaire, have a beautiful wolf dog, and probably be able to travel to the moon for breakfast because I wanted to. We would obviously be in self driving flying cars and a vacay to Saturn would be so common place that I’d be spending my holidays there. I mean who wouldn’t?
I’d be happy. So happy. Life would be limitless.
Flash forward to reality. Today, I’m 27. Self driving cars are just now a possibility with no actual average consumers utilizing them (Just you google map car, just you, you lucky bastard). Cars don’t fly and the cost of living in the US of A is more expensive than ever & wages haven’t really increased. Donald Trump is president, and I feel as if I am living in the twilight zone. Global Warming is the biggest threat to our health, environment and national security. But…you know. That’s just a consensus.
I’m not happy and honestly, I am not sure exactly what happiness means.
I think, part of this stage in life I’m going through some sort of mental puberty. And it reminds me of this excellent quote by the Goddess herself, Kate Bush. #ALLHAILKATEBUSH
This sums up the upper 20 year old condition so much. We are hitting this mental stage in our life that is akin to the physical torment of our teenager years. We’re no longer our selfish younger 20s. We realize the impact we have on the world around us, how every little action or inaction matters and mostly, how utterly boring life is.
Let’s reflect for a moment at the quintessential song that sums up the teenage existence:
Load up on guns
Bring your friends
It’s fun to lose and to pretend
She’s overboard, self assured
Oh no I know, a dirty word
Hello, hello, hello, how low
Hello, hello, hello
With the lights out, it’s less dangerous
Here we are now, entertain us
I feel stupid and contagious
Here we are now, entertain us
A mulatto, an Albino
A mosquito, my libido, yeah
There is this strange thing happening in 2016 if you’re in your upper 20s. Chances are you’re saddled with student loan debt beyond imagine. You’ve resigned your life away to paying back said debt until you’re at least 50. You have the desire to have deep mind buzzing conversations, but are surrounded by individuals who still really, really, really, like to get fucked up.
And don’t get me wrong, sometimes, I too still like to get really, really, really fucked up. But that feeling is starting to dwindle.
I can’t reiterate this enough, from 25 on up, sucks, emotionally, mentally.
You’re still trying to figure out our purpose in life, and often, mistake that for a career or job, or something shallow that you’ve come to realize now gives no meaning. And while you’d like to be the bohemian your soul craves, you’re coming to accept, begrudgingly, that you’re going to have to be a little bit of a capitalistic slut in order to have your cake and eat it too. (I mean, look at my ass it’s fabulous, don’t you want a piece of it?).
There is a lot of emotions and changing of thought processes that happen during this time. Every year I feel closer to something, something that is unknowable, and can not be named. I’m not sure what that is, but it’s a destination that keeps moving backwards as I get closer. Sometimes, I crash into that destination so suddenly and so briefly, that I wonder if I was ever there? I felt like I was, but now I’m back at sea again, cursing Poseidon, longing to be held in his arms, cradled like a child, and yet, want nothing to do with him. Because really, fuck him.
It’s this duality, continuous back and for that exhausts me. I’m still trying damn it, still trying to figure out so much and so incredibly impatient with this process that makes me feel lost, jumbled, and a child with adult responsibilities.
While all this emotional hurdles and mental anguish is happening within, I am still having some of the best times (so far) in my life. Isn’t that beautiful? It makes me wonder, perhaps I can not have beautiful moments without continuous self doubt, criticism, loathing and hatred. Perhaps, life is a mixture of both and sometimes they are both simultaneously.
Who fucking knows though, really. I’ll look back at this post when I’m 40 and think: How self absorb was I. Or maybe, I’ll be kinder to myself and realize I needed to be where I needed to be.
I’ve been trying to start a personal blog for awhile now as this used to be something I did a lot when I was younger, cataloguing my thoughts, feelings and day to day actions of my more youthful self. I enjoyed doing it so much, but somehow along the way, I stopped doing it.
So I’m back at it again.
With that being said I want to introduce you to this blog, Lady Hungerhurst. It will be a collection of personal posts, DIY tutorials for home nesters and photography tutorials. I hope you’ll find something useful here and we can learn a thing or two about each other.
Here are a couple of posts I am planning:
Christmas Cocktail Recipes
Shibori Dye techniques
Wreath Tutorials
Lightroom Presets
Photography Tutorials
Hiking Trail Reviews
Travel Pics!
Personal/Emotional/Angst Posts (expect may of these lol)
And much much more! MWAHAHA.
I hope to use this blog as a way to unleash my creativity, share it with the world and connect with new individuals.
Here is to a great rest of the year and an amazing 2017.
