Official 'THROW-DOWN' Rules

I didn't think it this was needed since Throw-Down isn't that serious, but just so that everyone is on the same page as how to play, here are the rules: 

-anyone may participate in any Throw-Down at any time
-"likes" count as votes
- the object is to make witty jokes based on whatever type of Throw-Down is taking place and get as many "likes" as possible on any number of comments you post
- you CANNOT "like" you our comment
- ALL Throw-Downs end at midnight, unless stated otherwise prior to the start of said Throw-Down
- any comments or 'likes" submitted AFTER midnight will NOT be tallied
- you are HIGHLY encouraged to be supportive to your opponents and "like" whichever comments you find to be funny and/or clever
- you are encouraged to invite friends from Facebook or Twitter to join in the Throw-Down (it is not necessary for them to be friends w/ Mini Lee to leave a comment to play........send them this link: http://www.facebook.com/ShezMini and direct them to which status to post their comments on) 
- please avoid repeating someone else's comment
- searching for jokes is CHEATING!!!
- if caught cheating, a penalty of -10 will effect your total tally of "likes"
-if you're caught cheating but you publicly admit to it, a lighter penalty will be issued
- be kind to each other; this is just a game for fun, laughs, and cheesy prizes. NO FIGHTING!
- you are not obligated to post a comment if you simply want to "like" other players comments

a link to the Official Throw-Down Rules will be posted before and during every game. Throw-Downs will be held every Thursday evening (between 5pm-9pm) until midnight. any suggestions or requests for certain Throw-Down topics can be sent to Mini Lee via a Facebook private message. 

have fun guys ^_^♥

perfectly unperfect

i second guess myself constantly
i walk with my head held high
i am always tense, even when i feel comfortable & relaxed
i can talk to almost anyone i pass by
i cry for almost no reason
i smile to myself in the mirror
i love my life
i hate myself
i am very open
i have many secrets
i want to be loved
i am scared to love
i can climb mountains
i can't leave my house
i am tough as nails
i am super sensitive
i am very hyper
i can sleep for days and days

does this mean i'm bi-polar or simply misunderstood?

want love like

i like you like a perfect breeze
the feeling of sand in between your toes
the smell of a baby's hair
the mistakes in a painting

i want you like the desert wants a drink
the beggar wants a meal
the beats wants a melody
the children want to play

i love you like the moth loves the flame
the sky loves the sea

the air loves the clouds

the tree loves the sun

i want love like lyrics in a love song
and every word is spoken with passion
and every kiss lingers like it could be the last
and every touch feels like the first time

i want love like the stroke of an artist's brush
moving , synchronized as one
creating something beautiful together
mistakes falling into place, perfectly

i want love like a thunderstorm
electrically exciting and natural
awe-sounding  and remarkable
resilient and memorable

letter to a monster

My dear Self-Injury,

It feels good to finally write, as I know I often avoid talking to (though I have no problem gossiping about) you.  I just thought I would get this off my chest.

Six years ago, when we first met in 9th grade, I admit to inviting you into my room.  You sat there so casually - just staring at me, not saying a word.  My friends had tried to warn me about you.  They said you were "bad news."  But aren't we all a bit of a rebel?

You persuaded me to think you could help. You told me you could make me feel better.  You said I needed you, and I believed it.  Then I fell in love with you.  You gave me everything you promised.  You held my hand through school, through the low times.  I remember crying in the bathroom one day and you walked in.  You picked me up.  Told me I could go back out there.  You kissed me, and sent me on my way.  At night, you called out to me and I always answered.  I didn't mind.  Sometimes I even called out to you and you were more than willing to help.

But Self-Injury, you have another face.  I swear I didn't know.  After some time our relationship changed.  Your gifts to me never lasted.  They were cheap quality.  You mocked me and left me to sit alone.  You made me change my clothes so that I would look like you.  You told me how to act, when to sleep, where to cry.  You raised me up to abandon me time after time.  You told my friends what to think of me.  You made me be with you when I needed to study.  You made me lie to protect you.

Yet after everything you did to me, I never let go of you.  You still offered your gifts to me.  Being desperate, I took them... sometimes even still.  Self-Injury, you have kept me from the college of my dreams.  You continue to make me live a secret life.  You sneak into my room and into my mind.  You steal my happy feelings, and grip tight to the leash you have me on.  How can I get away?

But you should know that you are not the only one in my life.  I have friends who support me!  I have family who loves me, despite our relationship.  One day I will break away and I will run so far from you that you will not be able to get a hold of me again.  I will tell the world about you.  I'll scream it if I have to!  And you will not be able to hide from the spotlight.

For now though, I want to thank you for getting me through the hard times.  It's because of you I'm still here and you've meant a lot in my life.

Be prepared.  One day you will be behind me, and I look forward to that time.

All the best,
Sasha

Insomnia Sucks

{I haven’t slept in 19 hours and I’m under a lot of emotional stress but I need to get these thoughts and feeling out of me so I can fully calm down. Maybe my spelling or grammar is off or maybe I’m rambling too much and not making much sense. It’s not important because I can edit this later. What is important is that express this right now before I explode into a panic attack}

I’ve always had a super hard time going to sleep. Most times, listening to music or watching a slow paced or complicated movie helps silence my mind long enough for me to slip under into unconsciousness. Today was no different than any other. So when I looked for something to watch, I noticed a title that a friend had mentioned to me once.

I Am Sam. The story of an autistic, mentally challenged single father fighting the court for the right to raise his 7-year-old daughter, regardless of the fact that she’s so much smarter than him. I’m not one to get emotional easily. But this movie had so many touching moments and so many heartbreaking scenes; I was uncontrollably forced to shed a few tears. Towards the end of the movie, like a hard blow in the stomach, I felt something I’ve always known but tried to not think about and forget.

I had to turn over in my bed, pull the sheets over my head, and scream the tears into my pillow as it sank into my heart. An epiphany that no daughter should ever come to know.

My.

Father.

Doesn’t.

Love.

Me.

I’ve always known this feeling, even as a young child. Always ignored, put the side, and never in consideration. I only got a few birthdays and Christmas presents from him. Only a small number received by hand. He’s never seen me graduate. Not from kindergarten, middle school, or high school. And we were living in the same house since I was in the 10^th grade. He never cared or fake interest in anything that I was doing or try to know the person that I have, so far, become. And whether that’s from me not being born male or his distaste for my mother or him simply not ready for parenthood, I just don’t think it was fair. It ‘s not fair that I spent 20 years without a real father figure to look up to. It’s not fair that I grew up missing out. I missed out on everything a father could ever had done for his child. It’s not fair that he could just run away from me and I never get a say in anything. I looked through his wallet one day and found a picture of my father and myself, posing in one of those Sears family portrait photo-shoots. He barely smiled or hugged me; meanwhile I have my arms wrapped around him and the biggest grin. In the photo, I was ten. I as nineteen as I held his wallet. We never been in any pictures together since then, and he hasn’t added any recent picture of me in his wallet since then. I can go on forever about how I never felt love or affection from my father, but what’s the point? 
He’s not going to read this.

He’s not come to me and suddenly try to talk (REALLY TALK) to me.

He’s not going to change.

He will never come close to being a father like Sam, the character in the movie. I know it was a fictional story, portrayed my actors with written lines and training to make emotions to look real. It was all fake. But the message was real. A father’s love knows no boundaries.

What do I need to do?

Do I need to beg and plead for my father to love me?

Am I asking for too much?

in bed with another guy

before you jump to conclusions from the title, it's not what you think!
i slept with him, not slept with him.
maybe for 3 or 4 hours, but it felt nice
aside from me rolling around looking for a cozy way to lay down, itching all over from mosquito bites, him laying diagonally across his bed, and my snoring, it was really nice.
haven't slept with anyone like that in a while. and i LOVE to sleep with someone to cuddle with.
he even confessed that i giggled in my sleep when he gave me belly kisses ♥
i only wished that we had more time to just lay there and hold each other while watching a movie or something, but there'll definitely be other times to do that
it's also really refreshing to have this kind of physical closeness with someone before becoming romantically somatic with them.
it's kind of like our bodies are getting acquainted with each other before they "make-out"
does that make any sense?
whatever.
it was a really nice day ^_^

Inception" and some other weirdness

In a nutshell, this is my personal opinion of the movie Inception (exactly as I posted it on my Facebook):

Inception.Was.Phenomenal. gripping all the way to the very end. if this doesn't get an Oscar for ANY category, there is no justice in the world. casting=perfect. plot=perfect. action=perfect. dialogue=perfect. special effects=(you saw the trailers)....need i go on? this is THE film you do NOT want to miss! i'm first in line for the Director's cut DVD ♥^_^♥ {mini-spoiler: the ending will make you think}


I added the "mini-spoiler" just so i can wait until a good amount of my friends have seen the movie to ask them what they think happened. I won't go into further detail at the moment because I can't be sure that whoever (if anyone at all) reads this has seen the film for his/her self yet. In two weeks time I'll post my questions to see how others interpreted the film, the ending in particular. 


Now on the second portion of this blog post...........the "other weirdness".
This is going COMPLETELY off topic of the movie but I feel like it's something I should share anyway. I don't care if you believe in the supernatural or the occurrence of paranormal events being real. This is just me talking from what I've seen, felt, and experienced in my own life. With that said, I think that I may (this is a very key word) have seen a ghost or a projection of something that wasn't real. 


I took the train back to Brooklyn and noticed that the stop where my bus home would have normally been was under construction. I asked the polite workers if the bus would still be making that stop. They weren't too certain on the answer so I decided to walk to the next stop, in the direction where I live. Got to the stop with no bus in sight, so I walked on. As it turns out, and not too much to my surprise, no bus ever came so I ended up walking the whole way home (I'm complaining, it was nice to get the exercise and there were almost no cars or people occupying the streets at that hour). Here's where things got a bit strange. 
I got that all too familiar feeling of being watched so I quickened my pace a bit and took longer strides in my steps. Then the other paranoid feeling of being followed started to make it's way into my mind. I wasn't alarmed because, for the most part, I knew I was completely alone. But just to help my mind at ease any way, I turned my head and took a quick glance over my shoulder. 
I saw a man, maybe about 4 or 6 inches taller than me with grey shorts and a grey t-shirt on, with a white fitted cap and white sneakers walking maybe a few yards behind me and a woman in black loose fitting dress maybe a few yards behind him. Of course I didn't stare, but I also didn't get much of a good look of his face or any other specific feature about him other than his clothes. 
Having only taken a few steps (and still on the same block with nothing but brownstones) I turned to get another look at him. This time only seeing the woman, the same distance where I first saw her, but now seeing  the color of her hair, the fact that she was walking slightly slower and me and even some detail in the features of her face.
Where did that guy go?
I looked across the street and around the stoops of the nearby brownstones and saw no one. No lights were on in ANY of the buildings of my surroundings. Confused, I turned back around and kept a steady pace down the street. I slowed my pace a bit still wondering if my mind was playing tricks on me because I was sleepy or what I thought I saw was real. I finally just thought "to hell with it" and turned to walk towards the woman who was still trailing behind me, just by a few feet now. I asked her is at any time was there a white guy with a grey shirt and white hat walking in the distance between us. 
A sharp rush of an electric chill went through my entire body when she said "Its just us two on this street.....Were you with someone?". I told her no, thanked her for answering me and walked even faster to my building. I tried to come up with a logical explanation as to how he managed to disappear so quickly, why the woman wasn't able to see him walking right in front of her, and (the most eerie thing) why I was able to see her in my first peep of my surrounding rather easily but I couldn't identify a single distinguishable element of his face. That's usually the very first thing one notices when they look at others, right?
I have no annotation to justify the brief ordeal other than to assume that there wasn't a man there to begin with and that through exhaustion, my mind had imagined his existence. But there's a strong conviction in my gut that, for even that brief moment in time, he was real. Or at least real enough to be seen. Which brings me to raise the question: Why was I the only person able to see him?


Any thoughts?

quick rant from a "grammar Nazi"

I've noticed lately that people have been mixing up the words "then" and "than" all over the internet. Especially on Facebook. Call me a grammar Nazi all you want, but that crap gets me so IRATE!!!! I know its not super important to use proper English on sites like these, and sometimes, we all just slip up, but I can't help to wonder if some people even know the difference between the two words. Maybe this can help clear it up for some people who may not know.

THEN:

adverb- 

1. at that time: Prices were lower then.

2. immediately or soon afterward: The rain stopped and then started again.

3. next in order of time: We ate, then we started home.

4. at the same time: At first the water seemed blue, then gray.

5. next in order of place: Standing beside Charlie is my uncle, then my cousin, then my brother.

6. in addition; besides; also: I love my job, and then it pays so well.

7. in that case; as a consequence; in those circumstances: If you're sick, then you should stay in bed.

8. since that is so; as it appears; therefore: You have, then, found the mistake? ou are leaving tonight then.

adjective-

9. being; being such; existing or being at the time indicated: The then, Prime Minister.

noun-

10. that time: We have not been back since then. Till then, farewell.

idioms-

11. but then; but on the other hand: I found their conversation very dull, but then I have different tastes.

12. then and there; at the precise time and place; at once; on the spot: It started to pack my things right then and there.

THAN:

conjunction- 

1. (used, as after comparative adjectives and adverbs; to introduce the second member of an unequal comparison): She's taller than I am.

2. (used after some adverbs and adjective expressing choice or diversity, such as other, otherwise, else, anywhere, or different; to introduce an alternative or denote a difference in kind, place, style, identity, etc.): I had no other choice other than that. You won't find such freedom anywhere else than n this country.

3. (used to introduce the rejected choice in expressions of preference): I'd rather walk than drive there.

4. except; other than: We had no choice than to return home.

exposition-

5. in relation to; by comparison with (usually followed by a pronoun in the objective case): He is a person than whom I can imagine no one more courteous.

Do we get the idea now? I don't mean to sound rude or obnoxious about this, but I just think that it's important for people to know how to type and speak properly. Just know that I did this out of love. ♥

i.am.not.dead.........

Although, sometimes I wish I was.

Because maybe then I wouldn't have to feel anything anymore. No more pain, sadness, or loneliness. 

I am writing this because...........I don't really have any way else to get it out. Crying only makes my head hurt and my face feels hot. And we ran out of the good tissues that don't scrape my nose. 

So here I am.

Again.

Did you miss me? 


..................................................................................................



I missed me. Or who I thought I was becoming at least.

I thought I was happy, but my eyes were closed
I thought I had friends, but they're just coworkers.....I never see them outside of the restaurant
I thought I had family, but they have no idea who I am

Who the fuck am I?
I don't think I was ever able to answer that question directly. 

I walked passed one of the mirrors in my house. I stopped and really looked at myself. Then I cried. My house was dead silent. And I heard the sound a tear makes when it hits a tiled floor. You would think it would be lonely or depressing. It’s actually profoundly pathetic. And that's exactly how I feel.

I feel pathetic because I don't feel like I grew out of the "awkward stage" they say all adolescents go through before they blossom into beautiful and happy people.

Pathetic because with all the "friends" that I have, I can't think of a single soul that I can talk to and who would do absolutely nothing other than just listen. 

Pathetic because every time I think I’m ready to show someone my heart, I feel like they look at it in disgust and turn the other way.

And I don't blame them.

I’m disgusted with me too. 

I hate being weird
And alone
Ugly
Useless
Frightened
Unwanted
And unloved

You’d think that someone who feels this way would want to keep it hidden and pray that it was all just a bad dream.
Well I tried that. 
And so far, I still haven't been able to wake up.
So I’m stuck here in a nightmare. 

Stuck under this skin that no one loves. 
Stuck under the pressure of reaching for things I already know I will never reach.
Stuck under this cliché of this melodramatic blog entry so close to Valentine's Day.

And I can assure you; this can't be any more unrelated to the fucked up greeting card holiday. 

This is just me no giving a damn anymore and just letting all out. 

What’s the worst that can happen? 

People already judge me. I’ve heard damn near every rumor about me. I’ve already been hurt. Been betrayed. And exposed. 

So what's the difference now? 

Because I’m doing to myself?

Maybe I should give others the satisfaction of airing out my dirty laundry for me. 

But I don't think anyone can do it justice the way I can.

Because no one else knows exactly what goes on in my mind......................except for yours truly, of course.

So I’ll just jump right into it.

I don't feel like a proper human being. Plain and simple.

I 'm not tall, I don't feel smart, I can't say I have many friends, I have more contacts in my cell than other people with my number in their cell phones, I don't think I’m pretty, I haven't had sex in months, I’m fat, I’m not going very far in life........so in short, I’m a sorry excuse of an individual. 

I am not a person.

Just a sack of flesh, bones, and emotions. 

No soul.

No character. 

Which is why I’ll forever be weird, alone, ugly, useless, frightened, unwanted and, of course, unloved. 


Here's how I've worked it out in my dark and twisted mind.....

No one understands how I think and why I behave the way to do. 
(I don't get it either) Which is why no one would want to be around me
(and I don't blame them) so in turn I am unattractive (but that's its good to have me around for comparison....your 5 face just went to an 8) no one can grow or gain anything from me (other than the explanation I just gave above) so I am terrified of people seeing my true colors (so I wear a constant mask..........many, many masks) I turn into a shadow that one sees (you can see a shadow, but who truly acknowledges one and tries to understand it?)

Need I explain the last one?

I can't even look in the mirror and understand what I’m looking at.
have you ever really looked?
and analyzed the barely living creature in front of your eyes?
what do you see when you look at me?

Do you see my fears?

Can you tell that I’ve cried today?

Does the pain of daily life still linger in my eyes?

Have you ever noticed the scars on my arm?

Or my nervous twitch?

Ever heard my stutter?

Have you ever listened me mutter to myself when I think no one is around to hear me?

Or watched how sometimes, my mouth moves like it wants to say something other than what ends up coming out?

Because it does.


I think it wants to say “please, love me for me. and don’t ever leave me.”
But I won’t let it.
Because I’m scared.
I’m scared that you’ll see me for what and who I am and turn away.
I’m afraid that you’ll be afraid of me.
Because I’m afraid of me.
And it hate it.
I hate having to hide and pretend.
I hate all of my masks.
I hate living in my own skin, despite anything I have ever said or done.




I am,  


without a doubt, 


my worst enemy.




(originally created on 2/13/10)

hope(?)

i won't say too much

mainly because i know he'll be reading this one day soon

but then again, who else am i talking to on here?

its not like anyone else is reading this crap

anyways, i kind of met someone

is it love?

psh! maybe not

but he's sweet

charming

thoughtful

creative

cute

and funny

and even though we have different opinions about a lot of things, i respect his assessment on the topics we've discussed

 i'm not one to gush over a guy right away

but its weird how he finds his way into conversations i have with people

i won't sit here and think of all the ways to paint a pitcure of how much of a wonderful guy he is

we're still learning about each other

what i can say is that i like him........just not too sure how much yet

which, for me..........is a very good thing