Discontent

As of recent I have come to terms with myself in the realization that...I dont know who I am anymore and move from day to day wanting to end my life. I feel so useless and like everything I've been doing is all such a waste. There's a saying that says "ignorance is bliss" and I'm starting to feel the meaning of that because throughout this year of college and the classes I've been in I have learned possible more than I would ever want to know about the world I live in. In my mind right now everything around me seems corrupted and fake; people, government, the lands, everything... And I have no control over anything...not even the way my own body functions. I'm wondering if it's even remotely normal to feel like this everyday or if there is someone else out there feeling the same depression as me. If there is, I want to meet them and we can heal one another.

Another thing Ive realized is that I have an intensely difficult time crying. I feel like Im crying inside but I cant do it on the outside. I know its strange to want to cry, but I think it would be a great release of tension right now.

Everyday I wake up and repeat the word "hope" in my head over and over and over, so I can make it through just one more day...one more day...

I wonder who, if anyone at all, would notice if I disappeared.

How I Made Myself Free: the formal recapping of my outing experience.

Being a lesbian, I have faced hardships like prejudice, ridicule, and homophobia, but nothing stands out as much as my coming-out experience. Sure, there are arguments about whether we are born gay, if we choose it, or if we are affected by an experience causing us to find comfort in women rather than men; but regardless, gays and lesbians experience multitudes of grief whether they were born that way or not.

I grew up in the middle of Missouri in a tiny town smack dab in the flow of the Bible Belt. It was the perfect example of Conservative America with its Bible thumpers, Sunday-Wednesday-Sunday praisers, before and after breakfast, lunch, and dinner prayers; these things rang through and consumed my everyday view of life as a child.

The first installment of my coming-out was with my family in our living room while we watched an awards ceremony with Ellen DeGeneres as a host. Right away my Dad said something along the lines of “wow, since her outing she’s been all over the place” and at that time I didn’t know exactly what “outing” meant but I definitely knew she was gay so I promptly asked: “what would you do if I were gay?” Silence shortly followed, interrupted by my Dad saying they would love me regardless while my Mom nodded in agreement. I was eight years old.

I can remember from a very young age that I knew I was different. My friends were goo-goo for The Backstreet Boys and Aaron Carter and I was in love with Pink and The Spice Girls, but of course I never admitted that until later. It wasn’t until I was a freshman in high school that I accepted myself as a lesbian. At that time I had an intense need to let someone, anyone, know that I finally knew my true identity; I thought by wearing copious amounts of rainbows I could get the job done. There were days where I would go fully decked out in rainbow necklaces and bracelets and purses. At some point I actually dyed part of my hair rainbow…because I was too scared to fully come-out to the world, so physical representations seemed like the way to go. Then there were the nightly phone-calls with my sister Jennifer to whom I would voice my fear and concerns about being disowned. You see, Jennifer hasn’t exactly had the best luck with our parents either; She was and still is wholesomely attracted to African-American men and stood by her choices and it caused disaster throughout the household when she was a teen. This is why I went to her for advice; she had experience with testing the pressure points of our family. More often than not the conversations ended with me in tears and yet again pushing that fearfully fatal day further away. I knew who I was and I knew the direction my life would take me but I had no idea how to get there.

That seemingly fatal day popped up somewhere near the beginning of my junior year of high school. From what I can remember I spent at least a week trying to think of ways to present this earth-shaking information to my parents. It was a week full of anxiety attacks, crying myself to sleep, confiding in my friends in hopes that if I happened to be kicked out, I would have somewhere to go. Ultimately there was a surge of confidence within myself. The day that I actually came out I didn’t think of it at all. That night I was sitting on my bedroom floor working on some English homework and I couldn’t focus because this inner secret was nagging to get out. The build up towards the actual event was intense; I did some jumping jacks, and pumped myself up for the final destination but as soon as I got to the computer room door where my mom was waiting I literally burst into tears and lost all of the strength that I had built up those past few agonizing weeks. If you can imagine a water balloon filled to its potential and then being punctured with a needle…that is what I looked like. Completely flaccid, hopeless, scared, and exhausted. And then I stood up to her and said “Mom, I’m gay.” The look on her face could have murdered anyone. When I told her, she cried and told me it was unnatural. She feared that it was something she did, something she forgot to do as a parent in my growth that spurred this “activity” and at one point she even considered me a rebel, on my sisters level. “Rebellion” to which neither Jennifer or I understood, we were solely being ourselves. Nonetheless, being the Bible thumping Baptist she is it is almost in her job description to impose the Christian belief upon anyone wrecking havoc on it. In the end she would love me no matter what it came to.

My Dad was a different story all together. He grew up Catholic and went to a private Catholic school when he was younger but as soon as he was on his own never went to church again. My Mom forced me to tell him so that she wouldn’t have to keep that kind of “secret,” so there I was sitting in the same place as when I told my Mom and I cried again but I was stronger this time. Dad cried at the news as well but he told me that his only concern was my being accepted by everyone because the world isn’t always a fair or nice place. He later told me that he was afraid I would never have his grandchildren, and although recent circumstances have proved such impossible regardless of my sexuality, I still planned to adopt. He will love them just the same.

My decision to come-out in high school was based on two factors; my happiness and my sanity. Hiding in that deep, dark closet for at least 14 years truly tested both my happiness and sanity because “being in the closet” is like blatantly lying to everyone around you, including yourself. When I came-out I was in fact involved with someone, which in a way urged me even further to come out because I wanted to be able to share my excitement just like everyone else. I thought it would be better to come out while I was still at home so that my parents could get used to the idea of their daughter being gay…in hopes that it would help them get more comfortable with the facts. As opposed to waiting until I was away at college, coming-out at home it had its advantages because being at home we were forced to see one another day-in and day-out and it helped us get a lot off of our chests. If I were away at college, the news would have set and festered with them for weeks on end before I saw them again and I don’t know from personal experience but I’m sure that could get pretty ugly.

Since my outing I have come to realize that life as a lesbian will never be easy or well understood but with every person I let myself out to I feel that much stronger. Coming-out is also an eye opener to a lot of things within a family. A lot of gays and lesbians see coming-out as this incredibly terrible experience but in reality sometimes it might not be that bad. It has taught me to never underestimate acceptance from anyone, and this goes for everyone, heterosexual or homosexual. We live in a world of vast cultures and ethnic differences; acceptance will always be a building effort. Life for me will forever be a game of coming-out and fighting for acceptance and equality. But because I have accepted that I am a lesbian, a gay woman, another lady loving lady…I am that much stronger and I can do this, live life like this and grow tougher as I grow older.

Oh sweet Jesus...lesbians everywhere.

Its my first real day on campus at the University of North Texas and I love this freedom.

Ive moved all of my junk into my room [and by myself, I might add, woo pride] and it's all situated the way I want it; now all thats left to do is move Claudia in.

Since Ive been here I have:

-applied to be a model

-applied to work wedding receptions

-applied to work at a scrub shop

-moved 5 bags, 2 boxes, 3 pillows, a comforter and a broom into my room

-taken the stairs instead of the elevator 3 times "]

and

-eaten in the cafeteria downstairs.

On the To-Do list:

-check out the rec center

-sleep

-sleep

-do my weight sets

-eat dinner

-possibly run

-meet people

Today, I kissed a girl for the first time. I am a girl and it felt right. MMT

Today, I interviewed a woman who is terminally ill. "So," I tried to delicately ask, "What is it like to wake up every morning and know that you are dying?" "Well," she responded, "What is it like to wake up every morning and pretend that you are not?" MMT

My aunt always used to say that I was a "worry wart" because I was always scared all the time when I was younger. I think maybe some people are born scared. Maybe my mom was scared when she was pregnant with me and her fear became my fear.

I always worry about when my dad will leave us for the greater God, how my mom will handle it; or when my grandmother passes, how my mom will deal with it. She doesnt seem very strong...and it scares me. My mom is the most important person in my life, she always has been and I think Im worried about losing her the most.

When will the components of selfishness and selflessness become equal entities within me?

My Daily Rations: The Pills That Keep Me Alive.

Pristiq: (desvenlafaxine)

This is the anti-depressant I am taking to treat dually the pain from my endometriosis as well as the depression caused by the onset of constant chronic pain. I like the shape of the pill, for some reason it makes taking 6+ pills daily a little better.

Fish Oil/Omega-3:

This is good for mood swings and overall cheerfulness, I guess is a good way to say it. I take it as a suppliment to Pristiq because its more of a homeopathic approach to treating depression and Im all for herbal medicine.

Magnesium:

Also a suppliment to Pristiq. Its also good for helping me maintain strong bones and somewhat alleviates the symptoms of menopause.

Calcium:

Keeps my bones strong while Im in "medical menopause", preventing osteoporosis and osteoarthritis. (I still have bad arthritis, but its caused by some accidents Ive had in the past).

Iron:

Good for heart and blood health. I need both of these seeing as I have a heart murmur and anemia. Its my favorite because its a cute little red pill. (...hey, I have to make this fun in some way)

Potassium:

For my muscle elasticity and my blood health. Being a runner and a newly christened ballerina I need all the potassium I can get to keep my muscles and joints supple and healthy. I take suppliments because Im allergic to bananas and was having a hard time getting all of the potassim I needed.

Well there you have it. The torture Im put through day-to-day. HA.

Ways to stay happy.

• sing with all your might
• eat that brownie you've been craving for a week
• go running because you WANT to, not to lose weight
• smile even if your world is falling apart
• wake up and put on clothes that make you feel put together, even if you're staying in all day
• lay out in the grass and watch the clouds float by
• spend hours upon hours at the library
• watch the sun rise
• dream
• dance like no one's watching
• write letters to family members and friends reminding them of how much you love them
• play with makeup
• paint
• imagine the world with fluorescent colors
• paint your nails
• do something out of your comfort zone
• learn a funny, new word
• dont step on that scale
• rearrange a room
• make a collage
• to be continued...

A lesson in protein consumption.

So up until an hour ago all I have eaten the entire day was a pancake with peanut butter and lite syrup, some multigrain chips and some strawberries and Im sitting here wondering why I feel like crap.

I HADNT GOTTEN ANY PROTEIN!

Protein is vital.

I have no witty title for this one, my apologies.

Im starting to feel sad again :/ With school getting closer the nerves are starting to set in and my inner pessimist is starting to give me doubts about making friends, staying organized, etc...

It will also be my first time really away from my parents, which could be both a blessing and a rude awakening. This summer Ive tried to seperate myself from them as best I could. Im not really sure how well I really did though.

School also means the potential end to my new-found love for ballet. Ive convinced my parents to let me try combining ballet and school for the first month at least to see if I can handle them well, but Im afraid my mom will win the battle with her "school is more important than fun" argument.

Today I went to my high school to get a renewed transcript and decided to visit my old art teachers. I walked in and just sat my stuff down, popped up onto a table top, sat indian style and Cobb, Baker and I started gabbing about our summers and the upcoming school year. They dropped everything they were doing to talk to me. They even said my arrival really didnt surprise them because they've grow to be used to my constant presense [positively] in the art room; it warmed my heart. It also brought down another wave of sadness, Ill never walk those halls again or make a quick detour to my beloved art room to get away from something ailing me...it was my safe haven for so long and now it's in my past. Cobb and Baker said they would tweet me [LOL] with constant updates about their idiotic classes as well as their great ones because they know Im not ready to just be thrown out into the world. All my little baby friends are seniors now and although they'll be fighting off senioritis each and every day of this upcoming year I know they'll look back and admire their art teachers.

After I left Wakeland I made a quick stop [more like 2 hours detour] to the local public library to find something to distract me from my worried thoughts. While I was there I ran into a classmate that works at the coffee shop inside the library, turns out they need baristas and I just lost my barista job due to them closing...I may just have a job for 2 weeks before school! I need all the money I can get. While I was there I picked up a book called Are There Closets in Heaven? A Catholic Father and Lesbian Daughter Share Their Story and Astonishing Splashes of Colour. I was inspired to get the first book by a girl Ive come to be great friends with this past year. Although we've never met in person I am strangely attracted to her personality and all that she's about. She's Catholic and finds love in women, she doesnt necessarily define herself as a lesbian but she doesnt deny her love for a girl either. Im reading it, hoping it'll present something inspirational that maybe will encourage this girl to be true to herself, before others.

The second book just looked interesting :P

Now.

Tomorrow brings on busy-ness and exhaustion.

I have to call Mrs. Duston [orchestra/private lesson teacher who's become more like a sister/best friend to me now that Ive graduated] just to chat, because she wants to, I find it funny :]]

AND my stable's owner to make sure the arena is dry

...then ab work and ballet stretches

and THEN if the arena is dry I have at LEAST 3 riding lessons to give later in the evening

...and then when I get home I have strength training and 3 miles to run.

oh yes...bring it on.

Gearing Up.

College is right around the corner and I dont know how to even begin mentally preparing myself for it. Right now Im enrolled to major in photography, but at semester, if I still really want to, Im changing my major to pre-med with a minor in photography; what I want to do in life is be an OB/GYN with a side business as a photographer for expecting mothers, newborns and their families.

Either way, I want to work with pregnant women and their babies :D

Moving on, my roommate is my best friend, who has a serious attitude/self-absorption problem, that I hope clears up really fucking soon. My school is only 45 minutes from my house and 15 from my horse. Our dorm is the oldest on campus...ALTHOUGH it was just renovated and has all new hardwood floors, mattresses, sinks and desks. They have a realllllly nice rec center on campus...eh.

Ive been a really bad blogger lately, but then again I dont really have many followers :/ I need to talk about more interesting things.

Last night i had a dream about kd lang...

Songs of My Past.

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In respond to my ex-girlfriends latest blog post I will write about the effects of her mix CD on me the week after our breakup.

My junior year of high school and her sophomore year encompassed the grueling 8-month long relationship we held. At the time I was dating a girl, with no considerable amount of class whatsoever, whom I now officially regret dating...but hey it taught me a lesson; Lauren opened a door for a better life when I couldnt find one myself. We met at our school's homecoming dance that year and we hit it off rather quickly after that which soon spiraled into nights of secret conversations where we divulged our passion for one another and regrettable...wasted a lot of the time we could have spent together...while I tried to figure out how to get out of the relationship I had currently been stuck in.

May 7th, 2008...I finally found that day to leave the abusive relationship I was in and I was finally free to be Lauren's. That weekend was full of Senior Directed Showcases, which Lauren and I were both a big part of so we put on our fancy blacks and jumped into the rush of stage production and finished every night with huge smiles on our faces. That weekend we became one; an official couple.

Two weeks, shortly after that amazing weekend I was in a terrible horse accident [which I have blogged about prior...] and being stuck in an ER for 6+ hours while in a neck brace and straped to a hospital bed made it impossible to text or call my darling girlfriend to inform her about my condition. So she gets pissed and when I show up to school the next day without her knowing Id be there she gets even more pissed and calls it quits. We [she and I] have both agreed that she is irrational by nature.

And thus comes...Songs About Bek: the mix CD of songs that supposedly reminded her of me, that she gave to me for my birthday the week after the breakup. The songs were:

• For What Its Worth [the cardigans]
• You're the Storm [the cardigans]
• I Will Follow You Into The Dark [death cab for cutie]
• This Land Is Mine [dido]
• White Flag [dido]
• A Song For You [donny hathaway]
• Better Days [goo goo dolls]
• Minuet [idina menzel]
• Morning Lullabies [ingrid michaelson]
• The Way I Am [ingrid michaelson]
• Far Away [ingrid michaelson]
• The Hat [ingrid michaelson]
• Suitcase [joe purdy]
• Mary May [joe purdy]
• Somewhere Only We Know [keane]
• Take On Me [sara bareilles]
• Between The Lines [sara bareilles]
• Love Me Slow [shoshana bean]
• Home [shoshana bean]

I used to listen to these songs out of pity for myself and for the longest time used them as a means of punishment for myself because I let her go so easily and lost what I thought at the time was the best thing to happen in my life [in reality she probably still is one of the better things to happen to me]. Then there came a time when I finally let go one string at a time of her attachment to my heart and let the songs become a sort of celebration for something good I did have at one time. I would listen to them when I was feeling out of sorts, lost, lonely and even when I thought I would never find another lover...and Im still waiting for the day when I can blog about a new love in my life...someday. Now, the songs have been stowed away as happy, sad, melodramatic and unbearingly true memories of my past. It may sound weird but I can listen to the songs as single elements...but when any of them are played in succession it still brings back few tears beause in reality...one can never forget their first true love or the songs that wound that love together.

Underwear makes a difference.

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As of late I have felt terrible about my body image, causing me to go into great binges and bad dieting methods.

Well today I realized that what you wear helps create a better body image, that is...if you like what you're wearing. Today, after a specifically hard workout I jumped in the shower to freshen up before my third immunotherapy treatment this afternoon [since I kind of have the hots for my gynecologist, might as well be presentable, even if she is married with 3 dog children]. I decided that after my shower I would indulge in actually putting on lotion properly. So I get out of my shower, dry off and dig through the unmentionables drawer and decide to wear some sexy black lace Victoria's Secret underwear, just cause [they are comfortable]. And low and behold! I instantly feel better about myself because the underwear make me look good by themselves...or maybe its the confidence that comes with sexy underwear...who knows but either way it worked.

Victoria's Secret Lace Undies

And these are what I had been wearing before, they are cute, but not very sexy:
No Boundaries Stretch Cotton Bikini

The price is quite a difference I know, but being on the mailing list for Victoria's Secret I get free undies monthly :] so it's really no biggie to me.

Happy Thursday.

Keep your coins, we want change.

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Yesterday marked the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots. In 1969 violent demonstrations took place in the Stonewall Inn, where gays and lesbians sat in a protest for equality. They are frequently know as the first occurance in American history where people in the homosexual community fought back against a government-sponsored system that persecuted sexual minorities, and they have become the defining event that marked the start of the gay rights movement in the United States and around the world.

Walking in that rally made me realize how proud I am to be amongst so many other LGBTQA Americans. We all share the same passion for equal rights and no heat, no amount of sweat and certainly no amount of hate can stop us from fighting for what we believe to be right. Yesterday the temperature in North Texas ranked in to be 103 at its peak, also the time that we were marching. Lauren [ex-girl], Jennifer [sister], Tarryn [niece], Devona [family friend], and I all marched the .7 mile path laid out for our landmark rally. Mind you, we were in a very gayborhood and we got loads of supportive honks and wooping from the blocked traffic. People living in the surrounding apartments came out on there high rise balconies and started chanting with us, in every store window or door a rainbow or bi-pride flag could be found; like the video says, this is the best and the worst time for my generation and its gay people, because even as I felt such a strong sense of pride as I walked that almost-mile I also felt deeply saddened when I looked around and noticed that myself, Lauren, Tarryn and Devona were the only teenagers in the whole crowd...why arent more people our age feeling proud of themselves, to find comfort in the gay community or with oneself it is abundently necessary to interact.

^Lauren, myself, and Tarryn.




^Tarryn and Lauren chanting. the sign Tarryn is holding says, "With our love, we can change the world. If they only knew." -a classic lyric from a Beatles song.










I learned from MGM this: whenever there is a massive gay gathering or event, there are bound to be just as many dogs as there are human beings.


This sign was held by a straight couple who were holding hands. I thought it was an especially endearing visual as they both seemed to have come by themselves [with no gay counterparts] simply to protest an injustice. It made me really proud to know that there are people like that out there.


^ Lauren and I walking through the blistering sun to register with the Stonewall Democrats, yes, I registered as a Democratic voter with my ex girlfriend. And we had a fucking blast...which comes as a shock to me because we fought for a whole year to get over one another [maybe I fought more than she did, however we have come this far and its looking pretty good to me]. We also went to target before the march and I helped her pick out sunglasses and she let me pick out gum [that we shared during the whole day]. It meant alot to me that she valued my opinion and considered my tastes for things. Also, sharing a whole pack of gum between ex-girlfriends? -->seems a bit touchy to me "P

Yeap.

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So I smell like my best friend, Im talking to my ex girlfriend planning our March for Equality this Sunday as well as our L Word marathon/pizza/sign making souree tomorrow, Ive just eaten a whole 8-pack of Butterfingers, I can stop sneezing, I miss the girl I love, I have a bitchin' cankersore on my bottom lip, my face is a disaster area, my room's a mess, gotta pee, watching August Rush, thinking about running my usual 3 miles in the AM...and Im still really damn happy right now.

This Evening's Conversation.

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This was the conversation my Aunt and I had while painting my toenails:

Me: I wonder what being in menopause this young will do to me in the future...
Missie: Hmm, I dont know.
[time to ponder]
Missie: ...grow hair on your chest.
[hysterical laughter]
Me: Oh yeah, the ladie's will love that.
Missie: Oh my... [busts out in laughter, crying from laughter]
Me: Oh wowwwwww, mmmm yeah, hair oh yeah.
[Missie slaps me and tells me to quit]
Missie: Stop so I can finish this toenail and not paint the toe!

My life is golden right now.

Blogging from School...again.

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I still find it amazing that they block everything...but blogger.

my beef Katie J!!
and I, skipping through the Wakeland Hallways on one of my last days in high school.
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Ive been doing alot of combined blogs, sorry about that; Im too busy with the end of the year stuff to write all of my thoughts every night.
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Last Thursday my orchestra had our last concert of the year, and we did basically...BADASS, we got 3 standing ovations. Afterwards during the reception I started having this really deep conversation with my recital pianist and she made me realize that there are people that genuinely care about others success and egocentrism. We were talking about how I always play so...unconfidently in my recitals, when during the rehearsals I play amazingly. To keep the story short; I can play for myself when Im thinking about one subject to aim my passion during my playing for but not when I have 30 or so people staring at me. My pianist's name is Oksana Ajowuerhnva [something Ukranian :D] and she and my orchestra director/life mentor are two of the most inspirational people I have ever come to know; they both moved from Russia by themselves to build a life in America both at around the age of 20, shortly after finishing University. They both taught themselves English and became well known performers in the States by the time they were 25 and now they both take on the job as educators for young teen musicians. Shortly before our conversation ended I said "the next time we play together I will try to do my best and not get nervous again" and Oksana replies back with "no Rebekah, you wont try, you will do, just play, play with all of your heart and everything you've ever put into that music will come pouring out and anyone listening will feel what you feel; and Rebekah...remember, you are the best. you, yourself, will always be the best and no one can change that", she then winked, hugged me and walked away. I cried. Ive never had anyone care so much about my success in ANYTHING as much as both of my teachers have this year. Liudmila and Oksana, thank you so much.
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I turned 18 last Saturday :]] and I had the best birthday of my life so far. My parents bought me a 1950's style cruiser bike and went way out of their way to find the perfect one. My sister's gift to me is taking me to get my first tattoo, and the way she showed it at my actual party was by wrapping A&D ointment which was really comical because my parents didnt get it at first. My time to type this is almost over, seeing as how Im at school, in my art lab trying to waste time before I take my one and only exam left of my high school career. Im nervous even though I know Ill pass. I dont even need the credit but I would still like to do well. [sigh]

On Terms of Endearment...

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Today I decided to doodle a tattoo on my friends wrist in our psychology class and we're pretty tight so it wasnt weird or anything, usually Im shaky if I have to touch anyone I dont really know. But when I had to hold the skin tight on the ball of her hand I could feel her heart beat and it was so different than mine, that it actually turned me on. Maybe just because it was so different, intricate, delicate, I guess...if you will. Im used to my off-kilter murmured heart beating and here I am introduced to a normal, healthy heartbeat that felt so beautiful under my fingertips. I didnt know what to do with myself, I was entranced, didnt want to let go; I felt what normal felt like for a few solitary minutes. Ill probably never feel that for myself, in my own body. So, I guess I wasnt turned on in a sexual way, I just loved the feeling of something so wonderful, happy, healthy, beautiful under my own touch, like it was something Id never experienced before [because well, its not]. BUT on the sexual side of the situation, the heffer knows I have a hand fetish and decides to grind her fingernails up the inside of my hand while Im drawing. She got a glare from me and she just gave me  an over exaggerated wink and air-kiss. [ON A SIDE NOTE:] this friend isnt ordinary though, haha. shes been with her boyfriend for over a year but shes very open to any relationship, being what shes in, meaning she wouldnt care if she were dating a girl if it felt right with that girl. so we've gotten pretty close and its like we have our own little friend dates like we're lovers but we're not, it doesnt make sense to describe it...I guess its like the feeling of belonging with a best friend, like you know things cant and wont ever be awkward so anything can happen. so we have our little sexual remarks that COULD mean something and COULD be acted on but dont really NEED to be acted on. I think finding comfort with people is one of the greatest feelings to experience. 

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MEDICAL UPDATE:

Started taking Pristiq, which is used for depression, but in my case it's being used to combat the pain associated with my endometriosis. If this medication doesnt work I have to go to pain management/a pain specialist to figure out what to do. I am very scared to take any antidepressant. 

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ALSO: my government and art teachers are amazing. simply amazing. Ill write more later.