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explosivemoogle

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Princess Diana by explosivemoogle, literature

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Artist // Hobbyist // Literature
My Bio
Currently without a camera, (spare my webcam) so no photography for a while.

Favourite TV Shows
Girls, Game of Thrones, House, crappy reality tv shows, etc
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
Awolnation, Daughter, The Hush Sound, Aqualung, etc
Favourite Books
The Boleyn Inheritance is one of my favorites.
Favourite Games
Final Fantasy series, Dishonored, Skyrim, Fallout, WoW
Favourite Gaming Platform
Playstation. Preferably Ps3.
Other Interests
Medical terminology, literature and vocabulary, tasting all kinds of different food, my dog.
Washington has been a major trip. I’ve lived here now for 2 months on the dot, and my oh my how things are flying. My new job has been okay aside from major management disarray. The shop is owned by an older couple who are fiercely independent to a fault. Overbooking themselves, getting stressed out, snapping at each other in front of me, even snapping at me. The other day I received a lecture about my posture, and a lesson on how to ‘sit in a way that is more attractive.’ I sit Indian style in my chair. I always have. That lesson will fall on deaf ears because I am who I am and I’m not offering my beauty. Im offering my excellent office management skills. Take it or leave it, but if you leave it you’re fucked. The place is chaos. The female owner is nice at times, needlessly cruel at others, rough around the edges and very flighty. It’s hard to nail her down to get anything done so I have to remind her frequently. I don’t mind doing that, but if I’m made to feel like a bother because I’m trying to keep things running, that’s where I begin to disconnect. I’ve begun simply writing out daily lists of things I’ve reminded her of 3x or more. I won’t chase her. She looks at me like I’m stupid when I hand her these lists, and that’s fine. That’s how I will operate in that regard. That’s all I’m going to say about that specifically, and we shall keep moving: The dogs are thriving. Mugsy has a little bit of a cough, so I’ve been calling around trying to find a new vet for him so I can get him in this week. Mostly every reputable vet is booked out for a few weeks, so I’ve just left messages with other vets and am hoping for the best. Yuna is doing well as ever. She will be 12 in the fall. My heart hurts when I see how she has slowed down, can’t jump like she used to, and has very few teeth left. She was never down with having her teeth brushed. I suppose that’s on me for not trying harder. Extractions to come very soon. I felt in my soul that something was up with my teeth after getting my braces off. My bite was off, I was very slightly chopping teeth eating soft foods, and I couldn’t get my mouth in a comfortable position to sleep at night. So, I researched the most reputable orthodontist in town and went in for a consultation. Turns out my former orthodontist completely screwed me. He, in the words of this new orthodontist, gave me the ‘cosmetic fix lite.’ He straightened my very front teeth enough to look pretty and all, but failed to address functional problems. They took a series of photos of my teeth and sat me down. They explained, while showing proof and examples of similar cases, everything present that should NOT be present after almost three years of braces. For example, my top right tooth, the one to the right of my right top front tooth? Gods, I do not know the name for it. Hope you got a visual from that awful description. That was always shorter than the others. My former orthodontist told me that this tooth was impossible to move, and that it was chipped which was why it was shorter than the others. Even after braces it had the appearance of a snaggle tooth. I wasn’t happy with it, but I felt prettier and my teeth were straighter, so I was happy enough to ignore it. My bite is off, multiple teeth are far off from where they’re supposed to be located. My top teeth were not pulled down to where they’re supposed to be. It’s all a mess. Even my overbite is still present! So, I have braces again as of a few weeks ago. I’d be more angry than I am if that top right snaggle tooth hadn’t already come all the way down into position where it is supposed to be. Almost three years of treatment previously, and that man didn’t give enough of a fuck to do what this orthodontist has done in mere weeks. My teeth are already night and day straighter. They gave me 20% off because they felt so bad about what my former orthodontist did to me. They told me how sorry they are that I trusted a medical professional with my mouth and he took advantage of my ignorance. That man knew that I was raised very poor, and that I was so happy to get the opportunity to do this for myself. He was always too busy to take more than a few minutes with me, but he seemed so genuine. He really connected with me at times. I had started my first treatment with a deposit and made monthly payments. I had it paid off within a year or so. I will say, I did notice that once I made the final payment, my time in the waiting room was substantially longer and they did not spend nearly as much time with me, or communicating with me. It was confusing, simply because I was naive. I’m sad about the fact that I was so naive and trusting and received a dagger in the back for it, but I’m also excited and hopeful already seeing results from a man who had the balls to sit me down and say “your teeth do not look good, they do not function well, and I’m sorry, but if we don’t fix this, you will chip all of them.” The honesty was what hit me the most. I will admit, I cried during that conversation. I think it was the part of me that is so scared to be vulnerable and trusting, the one who has been hurt so many times. She was crying because she couldn’t believe that it happened again. She was crying because now she was in the position of having to trust once again. And I did it. My teeth look beautiful already, and I’m glad I did it. I’ll have these for two years. At the end of this treatment the grand total of years I’ve spent in braces will be 5. Being raised the way I was, I’d see other kids in braces, brand name clothing, nice backpacks and lunch boxes. I never really felt like I needed those things, but I was always extremely aware of the difference between our families as far as pay grade and status. Other kids got braces. I did not. I went a long time being so utterly sad about my teeth. Older people in Florida would make comments. I was always very aware of how crooked and ugly they were. But ultimately I brushed it aside because teeth are teeth, nothing more. We chew with them and use them to speak. But once I was in the position to do it, I addressed it. I think it was some sort of method of taking my power back. My parents didn’t prioritize those things, but my father bought thousands in music gear. He took out a loan on our paid off house to buy more music gear. That is the reason it was foreclosed on when he got sick. Because of the impulsive spending. I didn’t learn this until my mid twenties. And it made me angry. I still struggle with how conflicted it makes me feel. How could he look at my smile everyday and buy this extravagant music gear without thinking, hey, I could probably skip this guitar and change her life by taking care of those teeth. When I got braces the first time, it felt like I was doing for myself what nobody else ever wanted to do. Independence. Taking care of me. It felt powerful. It still does. I could cry All day about things that weren’t fair in my early life and I’d be wasting my time. What’s done is done, and my father is dead. I love him so and I cherish his memory, but I feel resentment as well and that is okay to express sometimes too. All that to say that I’m a braceface again, my old ortho fucked me over, and I found a new one that is superb. I’m happy with that. I’m going to ignore the reason why I’m having to do this because dwelling on it further than writing this post does me no good. In addition to that, I’ve been driving a lot in Washington. Getting behind the wheel for the first time since 2016 was very hard. The person who taught me to drive was my father, two months before he died. It’s almost like a traumatic little emotional bandaid that I had to rip off. Driving came back to me immediately, like riding a bike. I’m looking at cars and hope to secure one in the next two weeks. I’m looking into degree programs that I can utilize online so I can balance it with my job. I don’t want to be someone’s bitch forever. I tire of being the one keeping the circus going, yet only getting noticed or spoken to when something goes awry or I have a human moment. I want to find my talent, and I want to run with it. I’m working on my first poetry book, which I will try to get published when I feel more secure in my writing and with the finished product. Writing poems, revising poems, over analyzing poems… I love it. It’s my life’s breath. If I can make that a residual form of income, I’d be happy as a clam. I pour so much of my heart, my past, and my own shortcomings into these poems. I hope they reach someone the way writing them out reached me. There’s probably more that I’m forgetting, but I’ll end this for now in favor of not being one of those people who says too much. (I always say too much. I have the gift of the gab. Thanks, dad.) I hope you’re all doing well, and I apologize for my absence. There has been quite a lot going on over here. Have a great week.
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Hello from the state of Washington where I now reside, just outside of Portland. I traveled here for Christmas, got stuck in Vegas for days due to flight cancellations, got stuck in Denver, made it here and had a wonderful Christmas. Then three flights back home got cancelled in a row, leading me to say fuck it entirely and just stay. The airline lost my suitcase so I’m out tons of clothes and other things. Taking it as it comes. I’m rebuilding my life here. Reconnecting with who I am, what I want, and what I truly care about. I will try my hardest to no longer stress the small things. I start my new job next week and frankly, the thought of it makes me want to heave. Everything has happened so fast that I’m left picking up the pieces while sweating profusely. I’ve moved thousands of miles in the last two weeks and boy, while it’s terrifying it is also sort of exhilarating. I’ve gone AWOL for a while as I’ve been trying to formulate my plans and adjust to all the changes. I’m someone who goes AWOL a LOT. I was always left to comfort myself as a child and I think that spills into adulthood. I isolate and think, act, make preparations. I thrive on this time spent alone because it allows me the opportunity to think about what I want and need, instead of worrying about what anyone else thinks. It’s healthy to be selfish sometimes. I’m ridding myself of anything unnecessary, refusing to chase anyone or anything that runs from me, and I’m actively focusing on my own future. I think that all of us, every single one of us, have faced traumas. Some unspeakable. Processing and defeating those traumas is our responsibility. Tending to our mental health is our responsibility. We all have shit. I write about mine in an effort to cope and persevere, but you’d never know that because outwardly I am so confident. I have my woes, too. The IRL world just rarely sees them. I kinda prefer it that way. I’m going through hell to get my prescriptions in order, and I’m missing my dogs something fierce because they will not be with me for a couple of weeks. But yet here I am still putting one foot in front of the other. We all have our shit. We all deal with said shit in different ways. We all need to respect that someone else’s journey or coping mechanisms are not up to us to decide or take offense to. Sure we can judge them, but what’s the point in wasting time being so concerned about their life? Ultimately, it isn’t all about us. There is so much beyond the surface that we don’t know. I’m feeling so hopeful and ready to take my life by storm again. To really live. Florida had me beaten to a pulp and it was time to move on. That same sentiment is relevant to a lot of things. My poetry is so incredibly important to me, because it allows me to spill the inner contents of my heart. The trauma I don’t speak on. The things I keep silent even when they’re trying to scream. I will continue to write whenever I need to, because each time I finish a poem I feel 20x lighter. Last but not least: judgmental nature. It’s in all of us to look at someone and pick them apart, pick apart what they share with the world, decide with the committee of we, ourselves and us what they’re guilty of being. Too much, dramatic, a victim, selfish. What have you. But what we should really do is make sure that our side of the street is squeaky clean before we pass judgment or label them something unkind. Before we make up our mind about x, y, z. At the end of the day, we all face shit and it’s very likely that the shit we face is something our friends have never faced. Who are we to say that they’re too much? Who are we to throw labels on them? Unless they lay down and die, they’re still in the ring and that is something to behold. Whatever coping mechanisms they use to continue marching is none of our goddamn concern or business, really, unless it’s harming someone else. That being said, another major goal of mine this year is to mind my fucking business and not let the actions of others influence me enough to have a huge opinion on them. You wanna do or say something weird or crazy? You wanna write a dramatic poem because it helps you process your thoughts in a healthy way? You wanna eat three cheeseburgers because you’re kinda sad? You wanna dye your hair purple just cuz? You do you. What other people think of us is none of our business, and that’s a fact. But I think that quote really leaves a lot of room for people to harshly judge others without being provoked in the slightest. Why don’t we all take some time to focus on ourselves a little more, and less on what others are doing that annoys us? There are so many millions of people on this planet, and we all have one short life. Am I going to spend mine worrying about what someone else is doing? Absolutely not. At the end of this life I’ll either be dust, or I’ll be laying in a coffin. Either way, I’ll have no clue what anyone is doing with their life at that point. So why don’t we all just start living like that now? Good god, what a world this would be if more people looked to their neighbor with kindness, empathy, and understanding, instead of with judgment in their heart. Or even just looked at them with nothing in their heart instead of being holier than thou and picking them apart. If I’m not fucking you, working for you, or closely related to you, you do you and I’ll do me. Your life is your concern. End of story. Happy New Year! :)
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Changes.

7 min read
I feel like, to a certain extent, we all need structure and routine. I personally thrive on such. Up until early September, my routine was carved into stone. I knew exactly how I’d spend every single day of my week, I was financially stable, and I was pretty okay with the day to day. Unfortunately, the entire rent soaring situation had other plans. My rent was raised $500 and because of that, I had to temporarily move into someone’s house and accept their kindness as I formulated my plan. I’m not one for relying on others, because I prefer to always be in control of what happens to me. I like to be prepared. That being said, this temporary situation opened up the portal to hell. First, I planned to move to Asheville, NC. Started planning for that. I applied for hundreds of jobs and interviewed for a handful. Nothing panned out. I went into a deep depression. Struggled there on and off. got my heart broken by rejections from jobs time and time again. This latest is a remote job with what I thought was a fantastic company. They asked me for an interview for a job back in August. I interviewed three times before being rejected in favor of a “more qualified candidate”. Sad, but it happens. About a month ago they reached out to me on LinkedIn and told me that there is a position that just opened up which perfectly matches my qualifications. They asked me to hastily apply. I applied, and an interview was scheduled that same day. It went great, and they scheduled another interview. That went swimmingly as well, and at the end of last week they reached out and asked me to please stay patient, as I was being considered still. Come Monday I received an insultingly canned rejection email. So not only did they reject me the first time, but they invited me back, said I was a perfect fit, and rejected me again. I felt this fire in my core. Before I could stop myself I replied and basically said I’m unsure of what has happened, that I was told multiple times I’m a perfect candidate, that this is the second time and I need some help to understand what this is all about. They replied back that both times I was rejected it was due to a referral… the first time it was an internal candidate who “already knew the culture” and the second time it what someone who was “referred by a current employee.” They said not to worry, that they will keep working at finding me a position! Do they really think I’m going to agree to this song and dance a third time? They’ve wasted weeks of my time, I’ve stressed out doing my entire face and makeup for 6 different interviews, I’ve given 100% of what I have to offer on each occasion. I’ve kept my heart open and hopeful, only for typical corporation politics to work against me. If you already have a candidate you’ve been interviewing, one you’ve endlessly complimented and have strung along, one who is eager for the position and who has a resume that proves she is a perfect match, WHY do you throw them aside willy nilly because a current employee knows someone? I don’t understand. The recruitment process is cold and heartless and I will not interview with this company again unless they find a position making miraculously more. Either way, scratch all that because there has been a major development. I have been approached about a MAJOR job opportunity in Portland, Oregon. One that could change my entire life. My relocation would be very easy and I would receive a lot of assistance to get myself there. I have a phone call to make sometime this week to iron out the details, but… I’ve decided to do it. I want to go. I’m moving to the complete opposite side of the country. There have been so many moments in my life where I’ve said “well dammit, if only someone would give me a chance” and I’d be an idiot not to take this one. You don’t grow unless you replant yourself when your pot gets too small. Maybe my pot has been too small for a long time, and maybe that’s why I’m struggling. A change of scenery is vital. I got my first winter jacket in 6 years last night for Portland! I think that sometimes we get so attached to the idea of being completely in control. We have a period of time where we truly are and maybe start to think that we can be all the time. I’m learning that this is not the case. I’m learning to let go of my need to call all the shots in my life. I’ve been clinging to that since my dad died and I moved to Florida. Clinging so hard to it my knuckles are white. Also, something that I don’t really want to go into but wanted to add: I’ve been in Kentucky with my mother for a week or so. The place I was staying became very toxic very quickly and I needed to pack a suitcase and get out of there. I return to Florida on Saturday, at which time I will take a couple of days to recoup and then I’m off to Portland for a week for Christmas. When I return to Florida in late December I will be going through all of my belongings and making tough decisions. I’m extremely sentimental and hold onto things I shouldn’t. Example A, I read a book my first love sent to me years ago on the plane ride here. It’s called Heart Beats. Wonderful book with a wonderful message written so beautifully, but why do I still have it? That person doesn’t exist anymore because he wanted it so. If he were dead right now, I wouldn’t even know it. Sad, but true. I cling to memories of my past because it reminds me of all the things that ever made my heart feel alive, happy, secure… I will have to decide which things are worth taking along into the next chapter, and which things will have to be thrown out or donated so someone else can find meaning in them, or so they can go wherever they belong. I’m exhausted by being tied down by grief of my past, or negative emotions. I will blink and be 50 before I know it, I cannot allow myself to be defined by the best people and moments of my life thus far. That is such a small part of the life I’ll have lived by the time I die. Time to make new memories. I’ll always love my little core group of friends from childhood and young adulthood, and will always be here for them if needed and if possible (my life has been nuts lately…) but all the rest needs to go. Time to learn to love what loves me, search for what’s searching for me, and jump outside this box I’ve effectively taped myself to for years now. To bigger and more beautiful things. To freedom. To working hard and earning good money. To whatever my adorable studio apartment will look like in Portland. 😍
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Profile Comments 67

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Great page and photos. You are beautiful 👍

Thanks so much for the diamond!

Thank you for the fave!

BONJOUR TU ES UNE FILLE SEXY ET ATTIRANTE

KISS

LE DOMINATEUR

Wonderful girl.

I would like to practice some figure drawing from some of your photos if you allow me

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