Bi-phobia

I’m a little bit fired up. It was spurred on by gay marriage, but isn’t about it for once. It’s about bisexuality and how we cop it from both sides. I hate that in basically everything, there is ‘with us or against us’. There’ve been some rallies in my area for LGT rights, but I’m kind of worried about going to them because of my sexuality. Cause, in case you didn’t know, there’s a chunk of homosexuals who don’t like bis. They see us as having it both ways (which we kinda do, hence the ‘bi’). And they see it as being a traitor. They think we’re taking the easy way out, submitting to social pressure and ‘pretending’ or ‘choosing’ to be straight. But that just isn’t it. And it bugs me.

Hetros call me confused, homos call me a fence sitter and both call me a whore. How is this fair? Straight supporters can be at rallies and it is great. Have somebody who is a mix between the two and it’s insulting. What the asscrack?

Gender doesn’t matter. If I’m going to want you, I’m going to want you. Regardless of what is between your legs. If your personality and appearance enthrals me and makes me love you, then I’ll love you. The gender doesn’t matter when it comes to love. All it effects is: do I lick or do I suck? Do I buy condoms or do I buy extra tampons? Relationship wise, emotional connection and love wise, gender is a non-issue. Do straight and gay people fall in love with somebody based on their genitalia? … Ok, well, there are possibly some that do. But it isn’t the deciding factor for most.

Ok. I’m settled now. Just needed to…Regurgitate all the grumpy whizzing around in my head. It was stopping me from concentrating.

Well it has been ages (once again) a really long time since I posted last. So here we go. I’m doing this cause I started getting bored with how I looked again. So I decided to do something nuts. I dyed half of my hair black. I’ve wanted half black half whatever coloured hair for a long time, but only sort of in a pipedream way. I’ve seen a few people with ‘Cruella’ style hair before, and recently saw some girl on youtube get red and black. Since my hair is already red and I’d only need to dye one half black to get a similar result, I decided “Screw it, if she can have it, I can have it.”. Soo, I did. And it looks great. I’m so stoked. I was terrified it would look bad and I did it at 3-4 in the morning, but my red hair is now 50% black, straight down the middle. Now I feel so much more versatile. I always liked having my earring or makeup different on both sides, now I have incentive do it so much more.

Anyway. Feeling all nice and fresh and interesting. So I thought I’d update as I change my looks. Photos below :)

Right side (black)

Left side (red)

Both together with a weird face because I didn't reel like smiling normally.

Change is good. Now I need to update my banner at the top. I want something better anyway.

~Raven

Regrets

Well, I’m back after my rather long absence. Though I doubt anyone noticed. But university and a severe lack of internet prevented me from getting all these horrible little thoughts out of my head.

Anyway. I return. A year older and none the wiser, though growingly bitter. It was my birthday on the 26^th of June. My 21^st actually. And though this birthday is usually monumental for most, for me it was yet another disappointment. The day passed like virtually any day my family gets together. We saw a movie, had some food and my family screamed at each other while I wished I was somewhere else and wondered why I thought being with them was a good idea. Honestly, the highlight of my day was when I returned home with Matt and he held me in bed and let me cry it all out. I don’t cry often, so doing it when I had spent all day holding it in felt really good. But this day of shit has filled me with a particular vigour now.

My family, love them as I do, are a mess and in no position to advise me. It is my life, my body, and being the youngest, I need to suffer the consequences of my older siblings actions. My brother’s alcoholism, for instance. Their children for another. Not that I don’t love my nephews and niece, I do. But when they are screaming and angry and making a scene, that’s suffering to me. So I figure, if I need to put up with their consequences, they can put up with those of me getting as many tattoos as I want. It isn’t really any of their business, but if they choose to make it theirs, that’s on them.

My sister wants me to think every single one through before I get it because she doesn’t want me to regret them. Well I figure, fuck that. I don’t believe in the ‘no regrets’. Every life, no matter how good, will have regrets. I already have massive regrets that I’ll die with. So I think a few spur of the moment tattoos aren’t going to really concern me that much. And if they do, they will be my concerns, nobody else’s.

I know what I want to do with my life and I’m set on it. If that changes, it’ll only be to something else I want to do. If I choose to do that with tattoos covering me, so be it.

I’m not sure what brought this on tonight. But I’m feeling good and fired up and wanting more tattoos. Tattoos I plan to get without consulting my family. They can get over it. So there will be more blogs with photos of my ink soon. Very soon.

Regrets

Well, I’m back after my rather long absence. Though I doubt anyone noticed. But university and a severe lack of internet prevented me from getting all these horrible little thoughts out of my head.

Anyway. I return. A year older and none the wiser, though growingly bitter. It was my birthday on the 26^th of June. My 21^st actually. And though this birthday is usually monumental for most, for me it was yet another disappointment. The day passed like virtually any day my family gets together. We saw a movie, had some food and my family screamed at each other while I wished I was somewhere else and wondered why I thought being with them was a good idea. Honestly, the highlight of my day was when I returned home with Matt and he held me in bed and let me cry it all out. I don’t cry often, so doing it when I had spent all day holding it in felt really good. But this day of shit has filled me with a particular vigour now.

My family, love them as I do, are a mess and in no position to advise me. It is my life, my body, and being the youngest, I need to suffer the consequences of my older siblings actions. My brother’s alcoholism, for instance. Their children for another. Not that I don’t love my nephews and niece, I do. But when they are screaming and angry and making a scene, that’s suffering to me. So I figure, if I need to put up with their consequences, they can put up with those of me getting as many tattoos as I want. It isn’t really any of their business, but if they choose to make it theirs, that’s on them.

My sister wants me to think every single one through before I get it because she doesn’t want me to regret them. Well I figure, fuck that. I don’t believe in the ‘no regrets’. Every life, no matter how good, will have regrets. I already have massive regrets that I’ll die with. So I think a few spur of the moment tattoos aren’t going to really concern me that much. And if they do, they will be my concerns, nobody else’s.

I know what I want to do with my life and I’m set on it. If that changes, it’ll only be to something else I want to do. If I choose to do that with tattoos covering me, so be it.

I’m not sure what brought this on tonight. But I’m feeling good and fired up and wanting more tattoos. Tattoos I plan to get without consulting my family. They can get over it. So there will be more blogs with photos of my ink soon. Very soon.

Self-Love

I love not being normal. I love that I like dark make-up, chunky heals, black lace, heavy silver jewlery, tattoos, piercings, long nails, hairdye, fake fangs, contacts. I love that it makes me a freak and I get disapproving stares by people. Because I like being different. Because I'm different. And to me, that's just perfect.


Also, I. Fucking. LOVE. These. Shoes.

Don't be afraid to love yourself. No matter how freaky you are.

~Raven~

Second Ink -Outline-

Well, a day later and I'm finally ready to blog about my new tattoo. It took forever to finally get it started because my tattooist that day was running late on his other tattoos (was meant to be at 3.00, but didn't get to start talking about the design till 4.20. Good thing I'm patient.), so by the time we got started my adrenaline was running low, so I couldn't go another half hour for the shading. Just the outline. Anyway, here are the photos of my tattoo.

Virigin leg. Well, not inked yet at least.

The only clear photo of us I could get

I ended up waiting a total of and hour and twenty minutes for my tattoo. Trying to keep myself entertained, I started taking photos of my lovely friend, Hellen, who came to keep me company. Ended up with this happy snap, which is the only clear one and the only one where we weren't grinning like morons.

 We finally got going. I forgot to take photos during, so this is a pretty gritty still from the video I recorded. God damn it hurt on the ankle. I tried it more to the back of my leg, but it didn't look good. It was also twice as big as I inteded, but once I saw the design, I couldn't go any smaller or I'd lose the detail, of which there was a lot.

 

 Trying to look relaxed while in PAIN.

Owch. But worth it.

 A couple hours old and a bit swollen (though you can't tell from this), but here is my newest tatt. I'm unbelieveably happy and still quite sore at this point. But worth it. All the fine lines were painful, but worth it. And it'll look even better with shading, which will be in a few weeks.


The morning after, I'm still pretty tender (didn't help that the other half kept bumping it in our sleep), but it looks amazing. And matches with my first. I'm so very stoked and looking forward to seeing it completley finished.

The next morning, less swollen and a whole bunch prettier. They look damn good together if you ask me.

Yasmin the Raider. From Fallout New Vegas.

 

 This is totally seperate from the tattoo, but it's an exaple of what I want my ear to look like one day. Yes, I also draw. I like to model myself off a character I've had for a long time. Most people model characters off themselves, I do it the other way around.

Tattoo day!

Well, getting the next tattoo in a few hours. I'm all excited and bouncing around.It's 11.30 and I'm booked for 3.00. The waiting is gonna hurt me more than the tattoo itself. I love this feeling of anticipation and a little bit of fear. I'm not really that scared, cause I know what to expect, but it'll hurt more than the last, so there's a little bit of fear in there. But mostly I'm stoked. And I still have to shave my legs, clean the place for my visitor, do my hair, find something to wear, have some food so I don't pass out....And instead, here I am writing this thing. I'm off!

-Raven