Ugh

If there's one thing I love more than Japanese in my blog titles it's Latin. People with Japanese in their titles are douches, people with Latin in their titles are pretentious douches.
Here we are: Veritas: Exposed.
What does that mean? "Truth: Exposed" Veritas is the Roman goddess of truth, borrowed (kind of) from the Greek personification of truth Aletheia.
First entry "My life has done a total 180" which has always been kind of an odd turn of phrase to me. "Total 180"? As opposed to what, a partial 180? Wouldn't that be a range of degrees from 1-179? Well, whatever.

Within the last week, my life has completely turned around. I went from hardly speaking to my friends to having dinner and movie dates out the ass. I went from hating myself to being... well, okay.

So there you have it. The "total 180" of "hate" is "okay".

I went from thinking no one liked me, that no one could ever think about me romantically, to hearing (FROM A BOY) that I am lovely, that my conversation is much enjoyed and that someone looks forward to talking to me.

Ha, ha seeking validation through the approval of others. Methought I espied a fragile spirit in yon thicket of ye Internete.

I hope lovely's not too far a cry from "wonderful" or "beautiful".

"Lovely" means, of course, "lovable" whereas wonderful is quite literal: full of wonder, and beautiful is likewise self-explanatory. You don't need any of these things to be lovable, so I wouldn't press your luck.

I feel like writing about all the people I'm jealous of and why.

Oh boy I love envy. It's such an ugly emotion.

Nobody seems interested in actually listening to me when I want to talk about this (and for good reason) so I have to settle for writing it down here.

Ah, I see. Sort of a "hiding it in plain sight" tactic.

Aubrey Galusha - she has a boyfriend who deeply cares for her and who lets her be her own person; she works as a scientist for Corning Incorporated and makes more money per year than my mother; she has the ability to budget; she has expertly managed her time between school, work and all else; she succeeds at everything she does;

Covetous and envious. I'll just break this down into two categories: she coverts peoples' relationships and wealth and she is envious of any skill they have that she doesn't have.
I'd have a suggestion here but frankly this entire entry is so stupid I can't even think of what to say outside of "don't be a cunt".

I guess it comes from that long line of Americans I am descended from... you know, the ones in the 17th century who were slaves to the motherland England.

What? I'm going to assume you're talking about the Puritans (who were English). They weren't slaves. They just weren't welcome in England because of the touchy political climate and them being zealous, unlikable douche bags.

I love England and I really love America but damn it, I don't want to be engineered for servitude.

Ha, ha, what? What, did the English send their specially engineered slaves to be slaves to the Native Americans? Yeah, I seem to recall that chapter in American history. Worked out for the Indians to be sure.

No matter how shitty a day/night I seem to have, work always fixes it. Bizarre. I hate servitude and yet it makes me happy.

"The loyal slave learns to love the lash" as they say.

Is this just more proof that I hate being happy and therefore, by implication, love being miserable?

Logical fallacy. Hatred of happiness is not implicit desire for misery.

(I should say manfriend as I don't think a quintegenarian qualifies for the term 'boy' and hasn't for at least three decades).

>Quintegenarian
The word you were looking for is "quinquagenarian" you pretentious prick.
A person between the ages of 50 and 59. Personally I'd just say "someone in their fifties" but then again I don't like to show off my ENORMOUS VOCAB (that's no existent in your case, way to be pretentious and wrong in the same sentence).

but I'm still so incredibly worried that I am going to essentially wander around alone... if not in physical person than in mind and spirit, perhaps even heart.

Well I guess an outing of friends is all about you, huh?

Oh, and I have a heathenistic desire to talk and dance around an obscenely large fire...

Hedonistic, you mean? The idea you seem to be trying to describe (trying being the operative word) is, indeed, "heathen" in which case... The word is heathen.

I'm restless and an idiot. My best friend just told me she's going to Massachusetts next weekend to see Plymouth Rock and Salem and other stuff with her boyfriend. And I'm jealous. Really jealous. Extremely jealous.

No, stop! You, jealous?

Am I damaged? Am I inherently evil? Or am I just plain stupid?

Since we seem to be referencing the Puritans a lot I'll use them as a point of reference: they'd argue all people are inherently evil, but personally I think you're just extremely selfish and stupid. Worse, in many ways, than plain evil.

I find it ridiculous that I'm only 20 and I'm trying to make myself be an adult. I am barely out of my teens! I should be running off with my friends to God-knows-where in the middle of the night and drinking myself silly around a bonfire all summer! I shouldn't have to commit myself to a job, a rent payment, a phone bill, an electric deposit, an adult life just yet.

You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun

I should get a few more years to raise hell and do what I want. Instead... I'm offering myself up to the Gods of Adulthood.

Gods of Adulthood, hrm. Who might they be?

I shouldn't be sitting around like an old spinster, relying solely on work and school to give me some semblance of a life.

So, what, you get trashed every weekend and suck some dicks in the back seat of some Honda Civic and those are the good memories?

I should be young and fast and hot and heavy and random and adventurous.

The transgressions of youth become the regrets of adulthood or something.

I should be partying in Dublin or dining in London, like I was three months ago.

Uh-huh.

People fucking suck. They're arrogant and ignorant and they never once bother to stop and ask how I am today, if I'm feeling all right, if I want to talk, if I'm sure.

Ohhhh maybe they're thinking the same thing about you. Ever think of that?
Also I'm getting the creeps now, I'm sure I've read this exact sentence before in another blog. Am I somehow reviewing the same blog again?

I just want to say that I would rather die of gangrene than get one of my limbs amputated.

'kay.

It really bothers me that I've so broken the mold as to what a girl, a woman, should be that no one would have the slightest interest in getting to know me, or eventually daring to love me.

Oh boy, so many things wrong with this thinking. Where to begin? First, just because you perceive yourself as being different does not mean you actually are. Second, just because you're different from the "woman" mold (not even getting into that logical mess) what makes you a likable person? From what I've seen you're wholly unlikable, and any alterations you've made to the stereotypical "woman" pattern (pretending something like this exists, or even makes sense) are generally for the worse.
In fact, if I had on my cynical face (and I do, as it never comes off) I'd say anything stereotypically bad about women is, in fact, exactly what you embody: you're petty, covetous, emotionally clingy and prone to hysteria.
Further, just because you're special doesn't mean you're useful.

I put myself in the friend zone and I don't know how to stop doing that.

Fuck isn't that what loser guys whine about all the time? Getting friend zoned? Guys don't have a friend zone, honey. And yeah I just called you honey because it's demeaning go get fucked.

They expect us to keep our heads down, our mouths shut and to not complain... ever.

Sounds like sensible management to me. You're being paid to work, not to fraternize.

I don't know... maybe I should feel bad about myself.

Finally something sensible from this blog. On this victorious note I'm going to do something else.