I was invited to join a game of tag by Sailor and Angel. I thought I’d answer Angel’s questions.

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1) What is the one insect you absolutely can’t stand?

Cockroaches! I can’t stand roaches. I’m cockroach-a-phobic. I’ll tell you, one night when I was a kid, maybe nine or so, I felt something tickling my cheek. When I woke up, I saw two antennas wiggling over my eye. There was a HUGE roach on my face! I slapped that sucker off of me–a survival instinct I didn’t know I possessed. The ugly fucker flung out and started flying! Ugggh. To this day, I flinch if I feel something on my cheek or neck.

2) Which fictional world(s) do you wish were real?

I’m tempted to say “Middle Earth” from The Lord of the Rings, but I’m gonna go with one from a book I started reading a little over a year ago and had to put down when the stress of graduation loomed. It’s a planet called Winter and the most fascinating thing about it is that the humanoids living in it can choose and change their gender, so gender isn’t a big issue there. It’s from The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Leguin. It’s a very psychological sci-fi that Monkey Man L had recommended I read.

3) Who is your favorite President/Prime Minister/Monarch/Whoever Has Been in Charge of Your Country in history?

I don’t have one. I’m a bit of a cynic and a critic and a rebel. I do have a thing for FDR though. Besides, he battled polio and knows what it’s like being in a wheelchair. I also have a thing for Lincoln. And I like Jimmy Carter. I like that he didn’t run again to play the games.

4) If you were forced to be on a reality show, which one would you go on, and why?

I was actually asked to be on one in an email from YouTube, although I doubt its legitimacy. It was for a pilot on CBS about disabled “midgets,” no lie. haha. I obviously changed the wording, but that was the sum of the email. I didn’t reply, though for a second, I thought of asking more questions. Oh yeah, ummm, back when I was younger and actually watched MTV, I wanted to be on that show Road Rules, you know the one that came on after The Real World.

5) What is the one feature that your dream house must possess?

An Olympic-size pool! (or just any pool) And I’d definitely have to have an awesome office with lots of techie stuff for film editing and a theater room for film viewing. I think I want to live in a very urban area though. And I find I’m modest when it comes to certain things so I don’t dream of anything big really.

6) What is your guilty musical pleasure?

Gloria Trevi. She’s a former Mexican pop-rock icon from the late 1980s and early 1990s. Her music was controversial and politically charged. She had a four-year stint in prison after her ex-husband and music producer/manager was arrested on charges of currupting minors (mainly the molestation of several young girls). I don’t know what Trevi was formally charged with but her charges were dropped for lack of evidence in involvement. There’s some Spanish gossipy news National Enquirer-style for ya.

Anyway, this is a song from her early glory days. It’s about a wild, uncontrollable girl that is sent to see psychiatrist. In the song she basically tells the psychiatrist to fuck off: “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy. I’m just desperate! Don’t tell me anymore idiotic lies; I just wanna live my own life… I won’t listen… And I won’t pay your bill… And quit looking! Quit looking! Quit looking at my legs! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! I’m not crazy, I’m just desperate” and so on.

I mean it’s got synths!

Without further adieu, here’s the amazing Gloria Trevi performing “Dr. Psiquiatra”. Yes, my guilty musical pleasure (you got it out of me Angel!) and I’m out in the open about it now ok. OK!? I love this song… no, I love a lot of Trevi’s songs, and I’m no longer ashamed to admit it dammit!

I also find it hilarious that the crowd is so disparate!

7) What do you think is the most disgusting food?

Pork skins and pork intestines (we make them with rice in Colombia). After I became a vegetarian, I couldn’t stand the thought of eating them. But I think I’d rather eat that than roaches!

8) Do you smile with or without showing your teeth?

You can’t see my teeth when I smile, especially not after the second Bell’s Palsy hit. 😦

I don’t like to smile in photographs anymore. Ok. Ok. Maybe a faint smile. 😉

9) Do you believe that there are aliens in the universe?

If I remember correctly from class, there are roughly 100 billion stars in our galaxy. If one-third of them are Sun-like, and 1/100th of those house inhabitable planets, I don’t see why not. I mean that’s just in OUR galaxy. If we account for the rest, which is infinite, then yes, I definitely think that, if not within our own galaxy, then surely some other galaxy contains life–hell maybe even non-carbon based life!

10) Choose your own adventure books–yay or nay?

Yay!

(Guess what gave me my wonderful idea.)

11) What is the funniest thing that has happened to you today?

Nothing interesting has happened today, but yesterday morning I went swimming at the gym and something very scary and somewhat funny happened with my tampon. Also, I met my brother’s girlfriend’s family. We were out in the backyard and they’d gone swimming but I didn’t know so I didn’t have a bathing suite on me. I just sate soaking my feet and got tore up by mosquitoes. I told my brother and he asked for bug spray. Well, my brother decided to spray down his girlfriend with bug spray (though I was the only one getting bit). The entire cloud of that venomous gas wafted my way and nearly killed me since I had nowhere to run and my wheelchair was out of reach. True story.

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As in the previous set, I’m going to have to opt out of tagging anyone (dealing with too much anxiety and jaw pain). But I am going to ask anyone who wants to answer a question:

Do you think it’s too late to contact that reporter lady from the Houston Chronicle? (See addendum of previous post)

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Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) and substance use disorders (SUDS aka drug abuse and addiction) have high co-occurrences.

Like many of those diagnosed with BPD, I’ve had an issue with drugs, both illicit and prescribed. The first drug I got hooked on was alcohol when I was fifteen. Later on, there were others. I’ve never been addicted hardcore. I’ve always had a level of restraint despite my low impulse control, but mostly, I’ve just always had a lack of access. So I was always able to maintain a strong will with an air of sobriety and a high functioning persona, but the looming pitfalls awaited throughout the years.

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So drugs.

Isn’t this nation (U.S. of A) over-medicated? I think so. I’m currently rethinking and outweighing the pros and cons of going inpatient because of this urge to take the rest of the painkillers I have left and that just mean I’m afraid I’ll OD again. I think I’ll have to call New Male Therapist because I still haven’t heard back from that DBT group I was supposed to get screened to get into and the other three waiting lists I’m on. I’m hanging on though, barely, but I am. I’m really tired of the nonstop crying bouts, these random highs and lows, this susceptibility to triggers everywhere. It’s exhausting. I feel like fainting every morning. Ha. I just got a picture of a damsel in distress fainting and then a flutter of birds swooping in from the window to pick me up like a Disney-style Cinderella in her opening shower scene.

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Well, this “borderline girl” P feels a tad over-medicated sometimes. I feel like the drugs given to me by my psychiatrist are gonna kill me, sometimes, like now, I hope they do. Other times, like yesterday, I worry they will. I worry I won’t make it to thirty.

And why do they call illicit drugs “controlled substances” when prescribed drugs are substances just as, or more “controlled”?

And aren’t we just mere chemicals bouncing around? You know, quantum physics and shit.

We are the essence of substances which contain energy, more or less. That’s why I love to bounce to this beat, because it’s so energetic, maybe. It’s called none other than “Drugs” by the wonderful Ratatat.

Yeah, I have nothing else of interest to write since my “Good List” went to shit after I’d only written half of it and then I got another one of my mini breakdowns this weekend and on Monday, so I figured I’d just throw in another “Bordeline Girl Song of the Week” for filler… until I get my head on straight.

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By the way, our human bodies… I’m probably saying “human bodies” because I started watching Battlestar Galactica for the first time on Sunday to cope. Guys, I know, I have to get nerd/geek points for this or something–anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, human bodies. Our bodies produce a tad bit of DMT, one of THE MOST powerful psychotropic chemical compounds in the history of our existence. It is a naturally occurring substance that is also seen in plants like ayahuasca which is found in places like the Amazons.

The Amazonian shamans use ayahuasca it to get “into the spiritual” realm. You know, religious rituals and such. Well, I’m from Colombia, and I sometimes wonder if I ever get my legal/immigration and financial situation fixed, I’ll travel to my birthplace and after visiting family I’ve never met, I’ll go down to the Amazons and ask those shamans for a little hit of ayahuasca and give god/universe a high five, a kiss or a cursing scream (depends on my mood guys).

Then, I’ll say, “Drugs no more”.  Except love, ’cause love is also a drug.

Oh, and now I know what this song reminds me of. Ahhh, yes, it reminds me of Jaques Cousteau Escargot. (It’s French spelling guys  because he had a French name though he was adopted, so that’s what we’ll call him for now.)

Anyway, he’s the boy that broke my heart back in late 2007 (I was drinking and druggin’ every night by then). He’s the boy that triggered my Monumental Mental Meltdown in 2008. And that meltdown was what led me to see my first psychiatrist ever.

Thank you Jaques Cousteau Escargot! Thank you alcohol! Thanks to you two and my “borderline”self- destructive ways and my depressive susceptibility, I am now in a merry-go-round with the mental health system. You’ve led me to a revelation, though I happen to think I’m no better seeing it–not at the moment at least.

Drugs. Love em. Hate em. Nuf’ said.

addendum: Dear Dotty says Venus is going to fly over the Sun today! TRANSIT OF VENUS GUYS! I have not seen the news due to my current Battlestar Galactica addiction on my brother’s Netflix account and the fact that I don’t have antenae for HD conversion, so I don’t know what time it’ll be in your part of the world, but it seems like trippy stuff and you don’t have to take any drugs for the trip. Just look up at the sky (wear protective eye gear and punch a hole in a paper if you don’t have any special equipment).

A Monologue (But Not A Vagina Monologue) 

All sentient beings brought by that omnipotent, omnipresent
God/Universe deserve to live in this green, blue and brown
Earth which is why I decided not to kill you.
You sit there all thin, black and brittle with your
little tentacles, all wet.

The fly was already dead.
I’m beginning to think you’re dumb, deaf and mute
as you inch closer to my drain, little ink splotch, scoot!
I flick and stomp so’s to shoo you but you just jump closer ‘n closer
when I’m trying to cleanse by inner being with the fresh
little fall of water. Clean my ears ‘n eyes out see if the crying spells
will finally drain out of me and let me dry!

Nothing like a shower
to pet the nerves, ’till they lie asleep–sweet lullaby.
But you  ruined it; killed my tranquil moment.
You want a shower too? A broom ‘n a shoe’s what I should give you.
I should’ve let you drown, yeah should’ve stomped you down.
Why are you still coming at me? What I do to you? You gonna
stab me with your stinger?  Don’t you see my burrowed
brows and frown; don’t you see how scared I am?

Oh no, now you’re just rubbing
your ugly, spotted thing for a head down with your front furry
eight sticks for hands, eek, while I’m here scrubbing
my dirty thoughts out all the while looking back at you.
The perfect, omnipotent,
omnipresent must’vemade a mistake;
yeah, erred while constructing you
and the roaches.

Oh god, the roaches!

© Paz

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The prompt for day nine was to do a monologue. Meh. It needs revision. I’m just having poetic diarrhea guys. It’ll pass.