Tuesday, July 27, 2004
A brand new post.... coming soon!!!
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Sunday, June 13th, 2004
God... this year, I'm going to be 20! I have NOTHING to show for it. Everything I've accomplished is emotional, not physical. A car isn't an accomplishment.... ugh. I dunno. I'll tell you though. Thus far, the best time in my life has been now, at the age of 19. I got all my shit together for the most part, I'm much more responsible, I've become a person that I can deal with. I don't want to get older. I don't want things to move forward anymore. I want to stay 19 forever. There's a lot that I hate about being 19, but I think that this was one of the best years of my life. One of those years that I'll look back on and cry about because I want it to come back. Like the way I look back on some portions of my life now. The biggest thing about this year that really made it great was the fact that I got a car. THAT made this year one of the best, I was given freedom. I just don't want to grow up. It's not fair. Why was I given life when I can't truly enjoy it without guilt? It just sucks. I guess I should just lower my expectations of myself, as well as life. That's probably the only way to be truly happy. UGH! I need this fucking video camera ASAP... I need to make money! People say money doesn't buy happiness... but that is incomplete. I guarantee you, if I had money, I'd be fucking happy as hell. Money is the root of all evil, but, if I had money, I could be happy. My parents could retire. That's the only TRULY shitty part about my life... not having money. that's it. Well, and being fat, but if I had money, I could hire a personal trainer. See, it would all come together. I just need to stop putting things on the back burner. UGH! I had so many goals, I get started on them, and then I get bored with it, so I think up a new project. UGH!! Why can't I stay focused?
Well, I finally cleaned the nasty dishes that have been sitting in my trunk... it was disgusting. I never knew such disgusting odors existed. OMG. It was horrible! I discovered that chicken noodle soup left in a bowl to bake in the sun in a trunk of a car for 2 months creates a very very very unpleasent smell. (woah, run on sentence) Same thing goes for left over salad with ranch dressing. Very nasty. YUCK! I ended up throwing out the bowl with the old chicken noodle soup because I kept throwing up and it became a bit of a challenge, so I said 'fuck it' and threw it out. My mom hasn't noticed thus far that it's been missing. So I should be okay. I feel soo nasty. I washed my hands exactly 5 times, and they still feel dirty. UGH!! You cannot imagine how disgusting that fucking soup was man... it was... oh god, just terrible. It looked the way it smelled, I can tell you that. Ugh! I gotta go wash my hands again. Peace in the East.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!! I want to shoot myself in the head right now. I am so... omg, I am just so ashamed of myself. My fat ass just broke a very expensive chair at my job. The boss is TOTALLY going to know that it was me! I just wrote BROKE and put an arrow pointing to where it broke. There is a HUGE crack! I feel so fucking fat right now, omg. I know I didn't gain any weight in the past couple days because all I've been eating is jello and fucking equate shakes. Oh my god dude! I had to write that stupid note because if my boss sits in it, he'll end up making an ass of himself because he'll fall right to the gound. OMG dude! I am soo fucking mortified!! THAT'S fucking it. I am getting rid of fat Angel. This was the last straw. I don't know what to make up for an excuse! I don't know what to tell him happened!! After work, I'm going to go and get a truck load of that equate shit. THAT'S fucking it man! I am mortified!! I HATE myself sooo much right now. I am ashamed of myself. I should force myself to walk to Mila's work for punishment. That'd probably make my humilation worse though because people will be able to see me. That's it! Only one meal a week for me... NO MORE!! UGH! I feel so suicidal right now. Why couldn't that chair break on the boss?? Why me? Ok, I'm done bugging right now. After I get out of work, I am so going to walk somewhere. UGH!! I want to shoot myself!!
Saturday, June 19th, 2004
SLEEP!! AHHH. I am being deprived of my sweet sleep. The scitzophrenic dude has yet to arrive. he's going to be about another hour or so late. Thankfully, I have lots to say up until then. I wrote down stuff through out the day that I wanted to write about. I have to copy all of my blog to a disk of some sort because I don't want my memories to be erased. I'm so anal about journals and anything I write. Anyway, to my topics.... OMG! There is this chick at work that's like 45 or so, and she is without a doubt one of the most annoying adults I have EVER met!! She is soo fucking immature. Every time she talks, she talks in baby talk to be cute or something. She'll be like "i'm hungry" in this annoying little baby talk way. She's a fat chick, and I know she's not married, and she doesn't have kids, and I highly doubt she has a boyfriend. She probably hasn't been on a date with a man in like 10 years. She just pisses me off because she tries to be cute... I don't think she quite understands that those 'cute' days are over. The only person that can be even remotely attracted to her baby talk would be either a 5 year old boy, or an 84 year old man.... she is just annoying. God, if I become anything like her, I pray that someone shows me the error of my ways and bitch slaps me into reality. (I just felt the need to vent about that. It is however, impossible to convey this annoying quality about her through writing... Molly, expect a phone call) My job just really pisses me off! The people here are so fucking superficial and annoying. (I secretly think that I am just jealous of them, and so I hate them... some of them at least) Oh God, the wheelchair lady (nice name huh? I don't know her real name sadly) fucking HATES me because of my terrible first impression. Ugh. I feel bad about it, but whatever. She can let go of the past. Why do crippled people have to be so fucking difficult! They expect us to know what they want. Some 'crips' (I'm going to hell by the way) will yell at you for opening the doors for them because they need to learn to be independant. Some will yell at you if you let them be independant... either way, i could be wrong! Why don't they just come out and say "hey, can you just hold this door open for me?"... noooo, instead, no matter how they feel about the situation, even if they don't want your help, they expect it, and if you don't give it to them you are automatically deemed as a bad cold, heart less being. Well, thank you very much. Here's some positive news. There is this guy that works here, he's Asian (not like that should make any difference in anything... like I stated earlier, I will be confined to the firey depths of hell) and... I dunno, he like, is coming on to me. At first, I was a bitch about it because I have issues with things, but now, I kind of like the kid. We talk for at least an hour a day, and he offered to buy me cigarettes just to walk outside with him. It's odd. He's a real sweet heart, but his family sucks. I hate them. They say shit about me, in front of me, and even though I don't know Chinese (I asked, and that is indeed the language... A++ Molly) I can tell they are talking about me by their hand gestures, and just the things they do. It pisses me off. I dunno... it's just all very weird to me. He's not like ugly or anything either, he's attractive, but, I dunno, I just have issues goddamnit!! We'll see how things go next week. He asked me to come visit him on Monday (my day off)... I'll be there. I'm a loser. I guess I'm just looking for something... something more than what I already have. I want to be in a relationship... those were the best days of my life. I pick up stray people off the road because they offer a temporary relief to my pain. I dunno. They bring me happiness. In their eyes I am not fat ass Angel, I am some fat ass saint. I dunno. There's just something there. UGH! I am so fucking tired that I cannot see straight. Things are blurring together. I'll write more later, after I've had plenty of sleep. It's currently 1:00 am... I've been up for an official 18 hours, running on 9 hours of sleep in 3 days... I feel fucking super. Oh man. I gotta get gas as soon as I leave this shit hole. I sell cigarettes to my 'friend' Mila for a buck a piece, but today, I jacked the price up 25 cents... I swear, I've made like 50 bucks off her in cigarette money... God she is so stupid. Instead of saving that money to just BUY her own pack she buys a cig at a time. What an idiot. I gotta go now. It's getting kind of hard for me to see... lol. Peace
Sunday, July 4th, 2004
Well, as usual it is a holiday, and I am... AT WORK! Yay! There are a lot of people here working and they are all pissed. I guess the system was down on the weekday, so about 100 people got forced to come in today. The thing is, I don't mind working the 4th, it's not a huge holiday in my eyes, my issue is that I know people are our there having fun, and I'm not. That's what depresses me. Nothing depresses me more than working on Christmas though. That is such a depressing thing for me. Yet I continue to do it, only because in my job, we don't have sick days or anything else like that, so therefore I am forced to work, otherwise it'll get taken out of my paycheck, and I can't afford it. I am in such debt right now. Man, I've never let myself get in a hole before, in the past 5 years that I've been working. Back then I didn't have a car either, and I was covered under my parents insurance. Now, I am just... stuck. My phone is probably going to get shut off soon, I owe a decent buck for that. My fucking car needs reapirs, but I don't have the money. I owe $500 in fucking hospital bills because my insurance fucking blows. I am being shoved into things. It's like, sometimes, I feel like I just need help asap, but I know that I can't afford help, so I just suffer, and let it eat at me. I'm forced to suffer because I can't afford otherwise. Been out of the hospital now for about 2 years (that's a fucking record for me). I was always in hospitals, one after the other, before this current record, I was out for a year (a year to the month... how odd is that?) and before that the record was about 4 months. i just kept going back. A lot of people HATE hospitals, but I don't. I mean, I do when I'm in there because hospitals kind of drag me down even more so, but in the same way, it's like an escape. The thing that sucks about hospitals is you never get to go outside, just look at it. Everything is being viewed behind a glass window with wire going across it. You are isolated for the world, and about 90% of your day is spent in your room. That's the crappy side. For me, the positive is that the world can't hurt me, nobody can, and I can be free. I don't have to worry about being someone I'm not because it doesn;t matter. There are no "coolness" ranks. I dunno. I suppose it's a bit of a double standard. I dunno. My life consists of conflict... but mainly with myself. I never know what I want. I only know 2 things for sure; I want to be skinny (it'll never happen though, I don't have the motivation) and I don't want to feel so alone. That's a big problem. I can be surrounded by people, but still feel so alone inside. I hate that feeling. It just eats at me. That's the feeling that I makes me want to kill myself. I buy people. I mean, I'll do anything for the chance to not be alone. Well, almost anything so long as it doesn't conflict with my emotional issues. For example, I pick up starngers off the street, at first, I thought I did it to be nice, because I know how much it blows to have to walk somewhere... espically if it's cold, late at night, or really hot. Anyway, that's what I thought my reasons were, but after I picked up my first couple of people, I realized that it filled the void inside of me. Most of the time, once the people left, I kind of missed them. I wanted them to ask me to be their friends, I wanted them to invite me to hang out. That only happened once, but it was with an old guy that was drunk and ugly, and he just wanted to get laid. LoL. I dunno, I'm just an ass, and I want people to stay in my life. I cling to people, and I can't help it. I hate it when people leave me. I don't think I've ever left someone in my life, but each time someone's left me, I went into a hospital. The only one I suppose you can say I left was Paul, but then I went back to him, and he left me. It still hurts... a lot, but I'm trying to block it out. Anyway (have to off this subject before I get really depressed). So, in reality, I've never left anyone. Never, I've thought about it, and I've tried to leave people, but I can't. I need them. When Uncle Frank died, I went into the hospital. When Jen Hotaling left me, I went into a hospital. When Vicki Tagg left... hospital. Dan Koonz... hospital. That's why I know that I'm going to kill myself when my parents die, when Patches dies, I'll probably just spiral into a deep deep depression, start cutting myself. It'll be bad. I can almost see it. God, why did you have to create my like this? I hope I never get another pet again. I probably will, but I just don't know if I could make it. I am way to close to my cat. He fills my void, in my eyes, he is like my child. I imagine that the way I feel about my cat would be the way I feel about my child. I just love my cat beyond belief, and I know how gay it is, but I don't care. He's not just a cat to me, he is my life. He is my baby. He is my reason... well, one of my reasons. I dunno. Anyway, I just have issues about love. I'm going to take my GED in Sept. hopefully I'll have the balls to get there early, and even if there is a lot of people there, just walk in and take the fucking test. Why can't there be some private place for me to take it? Somewhere I don't have to squeeze my fat ass into those fucking one piece desks! I HATE THOSE FUCKING DESKS!!!! I wish I could go in there looking like somebody else, put a bag over my head so this way no one can see my face. When I went to go and get my driving test I freaked out... there were so many people. Ugh! I think my issues with being around a lot of people comes from my issues with my fatness. Thanks to school, I just feel like people are starrring at me,and the worst part is, they probably are. UGH!! WHY GOD, WHY?? My conclusion is... there probably is no God, or an evil evil God. I duunno. I gotta go, my relief will soon be here. Damnit, there are a lot of typos, of fucking well. Peace
God... this year, I'm going to be 20! I have NOTHING to show for it. Everything I've accomplished is emotional, not physical. A car isn't an accomplishment.... ugh. I dunno. I'll tell you though. Thus far, the best time in my life has been now, at the age of 19. I got all my shit together for the most part, I'm much more responsible, I've become a person that I can deal with. I don't want to get older. I don't want things to move forward anymore. I want to stay 19 forever. There's a lot that I hate about being 19, but I think that this was one of the best years of my life. One of those years that I'll look back on and cry about because I want it to come back. Like the way I look back on some portions of my life now. The biggest thing about this year that really made it great was the fact that I got a car. THAT made this year one of the best, I was given freedom. I just don't want to grow up. It's not fair. Why was I given life when I can't truly enjoy it without guilt? It just sucks. I guess I should just lower my expectations of myself, as well as life. That's probably the only way to be truly happy. UGH! I need this fucking video camera ASAP... I need to make money! People say money doesn't buy happiness... but that is incomplete. I guarantee you, if I had money, I'd be fucking happy as hell. Money is the root of all evil, but, if I had money, I could be happy. My parents could retire. That's the only TRULY shitty part about my life... not having money. that's it. Well, and being fat, but if I had money, I could hire a personal trainer. See, it would all come together. I just need to stop putting things on the back burner. UGH! I had so many goals, I get started on them, and then I get bored with it, so I think up a new project. UGH!! Why can't I stay focused?
Well, I finally cleaned the nasty dishes that have been sitting in my trunk... it was disgusting. I never knew such disgusting odors existed. OMG. It was horrible! I discovered that chicken noodle soup left in a bowl to bake in the sun in a trunk of a car for 2 months creates a very very very unpleasent smell. (woah, run on sentence) Same thing goes for left over salad with ranch dressing. Very nasty. YUCK! I ended up throwing out the bowl with the old chicken noodle soup because I kept throwing up and it became a bit of a challenge, so I said 'fuck it' and threw it out. My mom hasn't noticed thus far that it's been missing. So I should be okay. I feel soo nasty. I washed my hands exactly 5 times, and they still feel dirty. UGH!! You cannot imagine how disgusting that fucking soup was man... it was... oh god, just terrible. It looked the way it smelled, I can tell you that. Ugh! I gotta go wash my hands again. Peace in the East.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!! I want to shoot myself in the head right now. I am so... omg, I am just so ashamed of myself. My fat ass just broke a very expensive chair at my job. The boss is TOTALLY going to know that it was me! I just wrote BROKE and put an arrow pointing to where it broke. There is a HUGE crack! I feel so fucking fat right now, omg. I know I didn't gain any weight in the past couple days because all I've been eating is jello and fucking equate shakes. Oh my god dude! I had to write that stupid note because if my boss sits in it, he'll end up making an ass of himself because he'll fall right to the gound. OMG dude! I am soo fucking mortified!! THAT'S fucking it. I am getting rid of fat Angel. This was the last straw. I don't know what to make up for an excuse! I don't know what to tell him happened!! After work, I'm going to go and get a truck load of that equate shit. THAT'S fucking it man! I am mortified!! I HATE myself sooo much right now. I am ashamed of myself. I should force myself to walk to Mila's work for punishment. That'd probably make my humilation worse though because people will be able to see me. That's it! Only one meal a week for me... NO MORE!! UGH! I feel so suicidal right now. Why couldn't that chair break on the boss?? Why me? Ok, I'm done bugging right now. After I get out of work, I am so going to walk somewhere. UGH!! I want to shoot myself!!
Saturday, June 19th, 2004
SLEEP!! AHHH. I am being deprived of my sweet sleep. The scitzophrenic dude has yet to arrive. he's going to be about another hour or so late. Thankfully, I have lots to say up until then. I wrote down stuff through out the day that I wanted to write about. I have to copy all of my blog to a disk of some sort because I don't want my memories to be erased. I'm so anal about journals and anything I write. Anyway, to my topics.... OMG! There is this chick at work that's like 45 or so, and she is without a doubt one of the most annoying adults I have EVER met!! She is soo fucking immature. Every time she talks, she talks in baby talk to be cute or something. She'll be like "i'm hungry" in this annoying little baby talk way. She's a fat chick, and I know she's not married, and she doesn't have kids, and I highly doubt she has a boyfriend. She probably hasn't been on a date with a man in like 10 years. She just pisses me off because she tries to be cute... I don't think she quite understands that those 'cute' days are over. The only person that can be even remotely attracted to her baby talk would be either a 5 year old boy, or an 84 year old man.... she is just annoying. God, if I become anything like her, I pray that someone shows me the error of my ways and bitch slaps me into reality. (I just felt the need to vent about that. It is however, impossible to convey this annoying quality about her through writing... Molly, expect a phone call) My job just really pisses me off! The people here are so fucking superficial and annoying. (I secretly think that I am just jealous of them, and so I hate them... some of them at least) Oh God, the wheelchair lady (nice name huh? I don't know her real name sadly) fucking HATES me because of my terrible first impression. Ugh. I feel bad about it, but whatever. She can let go of the past. Why do crippled people have to be so fucking difficult! They expect us to know what they want. Some 'crips' (I'm going to hell by the way) will yell at you for opening the doors for them because they need to learn to be independant. Some will yell at you if you let them be independant... either way, i could be wrong! Why don't they just come out and say "hey, can you just hold this door open for me?"... noooo, instead, no matter how they feel about the situation, even if they don't want your help, they expect it, and if you don't give it to them you are automatically deemed as a bad cold, heart less being. Well, thank you very much. Here's some positive news. There is this guy that works here, he's Asian (not like that should make any difference in anything... like I stated earlier, I will be confined to the firey depths of hell) and... I dunno, he like, is coming on to me. At first, I was a bitch about it because I have issues with things, but now, I kind of like the kid. We talk for at least an hour a day, and he offered to buy me cigarettes just to walk outside with him. It's odd. He's a real sweet heart, but his family sucks. I hate them. They say shit about me, in front of me, and even though I don't know Chinese (I asked, and that is indeed the language... A++ Molly) I can tell they are talking about me by their hand gestures, and just the things they do. It pisses me off. I dunno... it's just all very weird to me. He's not like ugly or anything either, he's attractive, but, I dunno, I just have issues goddamnit!! We'll see how things go next week. He asked me to come visit him on Monday (my day off)... I'll be there. I'm a loser. I guess I'm just looking for something... something more than what I already have. I want to be in a relationship... those were the best days of my life. I pick up stray people off the road because they offer a temporary relief to my pain. I dunno. They bring me happiness. In their eyes I am not fat ass Angel, I am some fat ass saint. I dunno. There's just something there. UGH! I am so fucking tired that I cannot see straight. Things are blurring together. I'll write more later, after I've had plenty of sleep. It's currently 1:00 am... I've been up for an official 18 hours, running on 9 hours of sleep in 3 days... I feel fucking super. Oh man. I gotta get gas as soon as I leave this shit hole. I sell cigarettes to my 'friend' Mila for a buck a piece, but today, I jacked the price up 25 cents... I swear, I've made like 50 bucks off her in cigarette money... God she is so stupid. Instead of saving that money to just BUY her own pack she buys a cig at a time. What an idiot. I gotta go now. It's getting kind of hard for me to see... lol. Peace
Sunday, July 4th, 2004
Well, as usual it is a holiday, and I am... AT WORK! Yay! There are a lot of people here working and they are all pissed. I guess the system was down on the weekday, so about 100 people got forced to come in today. The thing is, I don't mind working the 4th, it's not a huge holiday in my eyes, my issue is that I know people are our there having fun, and I'm not. That's what depresses me. Nothing depresses me more than working on Christmas though. That is such a depressing thing for me. Yet I continue to do it, only because in my job, we don't have sick days or anything else like that, so therefore I am forced to work, otherwise it'll get taken out of my paycheck, and I can't afford it. I am in such debt right now. Man, I've never let myself get in a hole before, in the past 5 years that I've been working. Back then I didn't have a car either, and I was covered under my parents insurance. Now, I am just... stuck. My phone is probably going to get shut off soon, I owe a decent buck for that. My fucking car needs reapirs, but I don't have the money. I owe $500 in fucking hospital bills because my insurance fucking blows. I am being shoved into things. It's like, sometimes, I feel like I just need help asap, but I know that I can't afford help, so I just suffer, and let it eat at me. I'm forced to suffer because I can't afford otherwise. Been out of the hospital now for about 2 years (that's a fucking record for me). I was always in hospitals, one after the other, before this current record, I was out for a year (a year to the month... how odd is that?) and before that the record was about 4 months. i just kept going back. A lot of people HATE hospitals, but I don't. I mean, I do when I'm in there because hospitals kind of drag me down even more so, but in the same way, it's like an escape. The thing that sucks about hospitals is you never get to go outside, just look at it. Everything is being viewed behind a glass window with wire going across it. You are isolated for the world, and about 90% of your day is spent in your room. That's the crappy side. For me, the positive is that the world can't hurt me, nobody can, and I can be free. I don't have to worry about being someone I'm not because it doesn;t matter. There are no "coolness" ranks. I dunno. I suppose it's a bit of a double standard. I dunno. My life consists of conflict... but mainly with myself. I never know what I want. I only know 2 things for sure; I want to be skinny (it'll never happen though, I don't have the motivation) and I don't want to feel so alone. That's a big problem. I can be surrounded by people, but still feel so alone inside. I hate that feeling. It just eats at me. That's the feeling that I makes me want to kill myself. I buy people. I mean, I'll do anything for the chance to not be alone. Well, almost anything so long as it doesn't conflict with my emotional issues. For example, I pick up starngers off the street, at first, I thought I did it to be nice, because I know how much it blows to have to walk somewhere... espically if it's cold, late at night, or really hot. Anyway, that's what I thought my reasons were, but after I picked up my first couple of people, I realized that it filled the void inside of me. Most of the time, once the people left, I kind of missed them. I wanted them to ask me to be their friends, I wanted them to invite me to hang out. That only happened once, but it was with an old guy that was drunk and ugly, and he just wanted to get laid. LoL. I dunno, I'm just an ass, and I want people to stay in my life. I cling to people, and I can't help it. I hate it when people leave me. I don't think I've ever left someone in my life, but each time someone's left me, I went into a hospital. The only one I suppose you can say I left was Paul, but then I went back to him, and he left me. It still hurts... a lot, but I'm trying to block it out. Anyway (have to off this subject before I get really depressed). So, in reality, I've never left anyone. Never, I've thought about it, and I've tried to leave people, but I can't. I need them. When Uncle Frank died, I went into the hospital. When Jen Hotaling left me, I went into a hospital. When Vicki Tagg left... hospital. Dan Koonz... hospital. That's why I know that I'm going to kill myself when my parents die, when Patches dies, I'll probably just spiral into a deep deep depression, start cutting myself. It'll be bad. I can almost see it. God, why did you have to create my like this? I hope I never get another pet again. I probably will, but I just don't know if I could make it. I am way to close to my cat. He fills my void, in my eyes, he is like my child. I imagine that the way I feel about my cat would be the way I feel about my child. I just love my cat beyond belief, and I know how gay it is, but I don't care. He's not just a cat to me, he is my life. He is my baby. He is my reason... well, one of my reasons. I dunno. Anyway, I just have issues about love. I'm going to take my GED in Sept. hopefully I'll have the balls to get there early, and even if there is a lot of people there, just walk in and take the fucking test. Why can't there be some private place for me to take it? Somewhere I don't have to squeeze my fat ass into those fucking one piece desks! I HATE THOSE FUCKING DESKS!!!! I wish I could go in there looking like somebody else, put a bag over my head so this way no one can see my face. When I went to go and get my driving test I freaked out... there were so many people. Ugh! I think my issues with being around a lot of people comes from my issues with my fatness. Thanks to school, I just feel like people are starrring at me,and the worst part is, they probably are. UGH!! WHY GOD, WHY?? My conclusion is... there probably is no God, or an evil evil God. I duunno. I gotta go, my relief will soon be here. Damnit, there are a lot of typos, of fucking well. Peace
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
Friday, May 28th, 2004
I am for some reason riding along a trail of luck. My parents were going to kick me out of the house because I plan on getting my tongue pierced, but somehow... I got lucky. They are going to let me stay! WTF? I feel lucky. OK, I need to talk about a recent.. creepy, weird conversation I recently had with this guy. OMG... can you say weird?? By the end of our conversation, he requested that when we meet I use a strap on .... on him!! WTF?? That is a little weird for me there buddy. That wasn't the part that gets to me though... he was jerking off, and I guess he had this thing in his... um ass, and I heard his kid talking after he came, and when he went to get his dirty toy. How the fuck can you do that?!?! I feel like he's probably a child molester... even though I have nothing to really confirm that. It just freaks me out that he shares a room with his 3 year old son, and ... you know, fucks himself... does that get him off or something? God I fucking hope not. That is suck a disturbing thought for me... way more upsetting than the queer dildo in the ass thing. I dunno. Here's the issue I'm having... the whole kid thing, not the fact that he has a kid, but the fact that he sleep in the same room with his self proclaimed "homophobe" father. Creepy. However, there is an odd element of excitement involved in this. This is so queer, and I feel retarded saying this on my blog, but thank god nobody reads this thing. Anyway, I've never let anyone do anything more than have missionary sex with me... that's it. I mean I've given head, but I've never done it doggy style, or the pile driver... none of it.. never been eaten out (I'm weirded out by that thought... it seems nasty)... but that's in part because I'm disgusted with myself... I hate myself, and I imagine that the other person hates what they see too. I dunno. Not that anyone really wants to hear about my sexual life. So, anyway, I know that more than likely if I hooked up with this insane perv. my horizons would expand in terms of my own personal sexual encounter. The whole kid thing though really, really, really bugs me... I just don't feel okay about that, even though I have no real proof of what I think is going on in that household, the whole situation feels wrong. Thank God he hasn't called me since that day... yay!! I told a few of my friends about this insane man, and they all agree that I should never see him or talk to him again. I was telling my friend John about how I wanted to confront this sicko and tell him I suspect something foul between him and his son, but John feels that would be a very very bad move. He thinks this guy would go after me to elminate the threat to his family. The thing is though, I don't think that would happen. I think he would just deny it and try to pass it off to me that he's not like that, but... I just get a bad feeling about that family... things are certainly twisted. Speaking of twisted, I had my first therapy session with a schizophrenic. It was horrible, and scary... I'm seriously going to reconsider my decision to become a psychologist. Here's the deal. Last night, I had to train somebody at my job site, so they came 2 hours early, and it was just he and I. He said he will soon be turning 55 (just so you know the age). His body... was weird. Perhaps he has some sort of disease because things were just misproportioned... his legs and arms were much longer than they should be for someone of his height. He has messed up teeth, they were just messed up, and his smile reminded me of smething... when he smiled, I felt scared, and weird. I dunno. He also had a lot of odd looking wounds that he was picking at during our terribly long conversation. They were all over his arms, and they were huge circles... I dunno. I'm just scared of him, his appearance is bad, but once he opens his mouth to speak, it gets worse. Much, much worse. Here is our conversation, I'll cut out the boring stuff, and after I certain point in our conversation, I decided to stop paying attention(something I never do, I always stay focused on the person and there story). His name by the way is Bob... B for short.
Me- Hi, have you been here before?
B- No, nice building though... weird things have been happening to me.
Me- (A little weirded out... not something you usually say when your meeting someone for the first time) Oh, um, ok. So, let me tell you about what you'll be doing, what your job is while your here etc.
B- Ok, sure.(Then I spend a small amount of time showing him where to sign in, and the smoking rules)
B- So many weird things are happening.
Me- (At this point, he had said that twice, meaning to me that he wanted to talk about these "weird" things... so I decided to venture into his weirdness) What weird things?
B- He comes to me, takes me away, and talks.
Me- (I think that I am pretty good at being like a psycologist, I have helped many people, and I take pride in that piece of myself. However, I do not know enough about certain illnesses to help people. I probably should not have egged him on, because it's too much for someone that doesn't really know what they are dealing with. I was stupid, but curious). Who is talking to you, and are they talking to you now B?
B- He talks to me, and takes the body, makes me do things I don't remember, but nobody ever tells me[what happened].
Me- What does he say? Do you know him?
B- He tells me to get out. He is not God or an angel, or a relative... he is Satan
Me- (At this point, I know I have jumped into trying to help this guy too fast... I am not quailfied to help him, nor do I care to. It scared me, but I kept asking questions). What does he sound like, what is he telling you to do? Is he talking to you now? (I was plowing him with a lot of questions at the same time, but I felt nervous, and I wanted to know about the man sitting in front of me.)
B- His voice is unlike ours. You cannot really hear him, but he is there. Slow... like time was going slow... warped. He has given me a gift... I have a gift. He tells me to get out, and he shows me dreams of things before they happen. They do happen, maybe it takes awhile, but they always happen. He is not talking now.
Me- What has he told you in the past?
B- To get out... his words were "get off now" i remember them... I'll never forget.
Me- "get off now".. what as he talking about?
B- He told me to jump off my motorcycle.
Me- Did you?
B- Yes. Not at first though, he hit me, 3 times. He was so strong. The first time he hit me, it was hard, but I held on, the second time, it was harder, but I still held on... the third time, I couldn't hold on, and he hit me really hard, I fell off.
Me- When did this happen?
B- Um... 1994 I think. You want to know the weirdest part though?
Me- What's that?
B- A man pulled over on the highway and watched it, he never helped me, but he was there.. I think he did it.
Me- (Oh my fucking god... I want to go home, I was scared, but I wanted to know more... so I kept going with my questions) So, you think he was Satan?
B- No, Satan wasn't there that day. I don't know who he was, but he had powers too.
Me- (Motherfucked told me Satan was there) You told me Satan was there that day. Who said "Get off now"?
B- I don't know, it was just a voice, clear as day... but that man did it to me.
Me- Tell me about Satan, what happens when you hear Satan? (I wanted to get off the bike accident because he was starting to trail into some stuff about the minor injuries.)
B- Well, when I heard him, he took over my body, was making me say things weird, and I was driving a truck... my partner didn't tell me about this. I was sitting in the back seat and the entity was taking over.
Me- Your partner never said anything? He didn't ask you about what you were saying?
B- No
Me- So, what happened while the entity was driving?
B- I don't know, but we made it, I don't know how, and neither does my partner, I had a dream about this many nights for 3 years.
Me- (This is becoming too much for me, and I feel sorry for this tortured man... I can't help him, but we keep talking.) Made it? What did you make?
B- IN the dream, I was trying to pass a truck, and someone gets hit... we almost did, i think, I don't know, but it came true, I just don't remember. I had a dream that my roomate and I would get into a fight in the kitchen and one would go out the window.. I didn't know who though.
Me- Has the dream come true?
B- Yes
Me- Who went out the window?
B- We fought on the steps, things happend about 5 seconds faster, otherwise it would have been in the kitchen... the dimension was different.
Me- (OMG... now I'm just really listening... I got really freaked out, and decided that I was going to just nodd and agree with whatever he was feeling)
He claims that he has been to the differnent dimensions, and that he almost left his body, but he couldn't do it alone, so he searched for energy, but only found negative energy. So he as he said "failed, but it almost happened, almost". I noticed that almost all of the time that these weird things happened to him, he had claimed he was under the influence of something... drugs or alcohol. He claimed that during each time he was just feeling "good" not completely intoxicated by whatever the drug was. He also claims that he has a very high tolerance for both drugs and alcohol, so he never worried about drinking too much because he never really got drunk. However, he later slipped by saying that he was "just barely illegally drunk" durning his motocycle accident. I suppose that he was close to being considered too drunk to drive. I dunno. He mainly sees and hears odd things. He recently saw an old woman walking in the road on his way home from a site, it wasd about 2am and he was having "car troubles" and out of nowhere, and little old woman came out and asked if he needed help... it was raining too. He smiled when he told me that, and told me no more. I do not know if this woman helped him, or anything else... I have no idea, and he didn't bother to tell me.. he skipped on to another time in his life... then he told me about his 26 yr. old roommate (the kid probably takes advantage of him, he's an old sick man) and told me about how horrible his roommate is, and just a whole bunch of stuff about his family. The people that killed themselves (there were 3) the mentally ill cousin, brother and mother.... schizophrenic by the way. I don't know what he suffers with. Is his living in his own world? Did the bike thing really happen? I believe that he hears the voices, but if the bike thing didn't even happen at all, that means that he's creating this alternate life for himself... is that still schzophrenia? I don't really know if he has that or not. I donn't know.... but he scared me, and it's creepy to be around someone who talks about the "entity" often, and claims that they hear Satan, and go to "parallel universes".... I decided that I absolutly WILL NOT even try further to help this man. In fact, I'm going to tell me boss that this man needs to have an evaluation... ASAP. He needs medication, no amount of talking to him will do anything. If anything, he will feel open to exposing me further to his world. He may even act out, feeling that it's okay because I understand (something I kept saying when I decided to stop asking questions). He may feel some sort of "connection" between us that could lead to something very unhealthy. Wow, I just thought about something... I used to tell myself that if I don't kill myself, my death will either be like a car accident, or something, or someone I tried to help will kill me becuase I got in over my head... what if this is that case? I know I got in over my head, does this man have the potential to be dangerous? He seems benign, trapped inside himself... but what if by talking to him I opened something. Oh God, I don't know. Here's something odd. This man is 55 years old (an looks the part might I add) and when I came into work this afternoon, the guy I was relieving said "did you write this?" on the calender that we all use it said "J.G. sucks!" It didn't actually say J.G. it said the full name, but JG is the client, he has the power to keep us on this site or get rid of us... I never told him JG was our client.. I never even mentioned the name. JG has his buisness cards around the desk, so maybe he saw one.Also, the exclaimation point was an open circle with a smiley face inside. The point is, he's 55 years old... children do that. I know that the guy that I relieved, the guy that showed me that writing is going to show the client, he already told me. I think though that I'm going to call the client first and tell him that this man should not be removed from this site... but not because of the "JG sucks!" at least. If he plans on removing him, it should be because he is mentally ill, and needs help. B also asked about cameras in the building (there are none, I know this for a fact), and he he insisted that they are "always watching me, so, I know they are here" and pointed to many places in the building that was hiding a camera...it was crazy. So, I'm not sure if I'll be logging this as a personal defeat on my behalf. I think that I'm still going to someday go to college and become a psycologist... speaking of that... my mother came home today and said that my little cousin said "thank you", i asked for what, and my mom was like " she says thank you for being her inspiration, her motivation... she wants to be a psycologist"... ugh.... fuck you. How am I a motivator? How did I inspire you? By dropping out and never making that dream a reality? Oh, I motivated you not to be like me. Please, don't try being nice. I know who i am, I know what I have done, and I know that you will make it before I do... do not try to downplay your future success against me by proclaiming me as your "inspiration"... get real. Oh, and you want to hang out too? I will, but only to prove to you that I am not who you think I am. I am still a sucess... I am still something... just becuase I will not make the money you'll make doesn't mean that I am a complete failure... I know have have nothing to show for it... but that was my decision. I chose this life, and I am happy with it. Am I jealous of you? Yes, and I always have been. Your so pretty, perfect blond hair, blue eyes, perfect body, brains... perfect perfect... even though inside you are not perfect, nobody is. Due to that knowledge, i feel bad for hating you sometimes. I guess I'm just jealous that your better than me. I just wish things were different. I know that you will be more than I will ever be, in every aspect of your life... so I should be happy for you. I'm not dead yet though. i may as well be because you are the apple in the family eye. Please, don't put me aboard your sympathy train. Don't put me in any position that is beside you. I am not your inspiration nor am I your motivation (if anything, I motivate you to stay in school, stay away from drugs, and be anybody you want, but nothing like me)... please, don't try doing me any favors, don't pity me. Go ahead, you may as well take my dreams from me... they will never be a reality to me. I will never make it... so you might as well take it for your own. I shall go on the back burner... where I belong, and where my hope lies.
Sunday, May 30th, 2004
If somebody ever asked me who my hero is/was... I would without a doubt say my father. My father, in my eyes, is a warrior... the unbreakable... God-like. I don't know why he was given the life he lived... I often wish I could wipe away his past. I recently watched the movie Hamburger Hill... it's about Vietnam, a war my father was apart of. A war that still haunts my father, a war that will never leave him. If my father does not make it through the pearly gates of Heaven, than Heaven is not a place I would want to be to begin with. I came home this morning and told my father about the movie (he does not want to see it, and I cannot blame him, he is still tortured with the real memories) I had a few questions about some of the thing that happened... and then, he told me about the real side of it. When my father speaks of Vietnam, you can see the pain. His eyes glaze over... and you know that he still sees it inside. I asked him if he still dreams about it, and he said "No, knock on wood"... when he talks about Vietnam, you can see the pain. He is no longer the father I know, he is someone that once was. Someone that he tries to hide. He endured so much, and yet, he managed to still be a great man. There are many things he will not talk about... he doesn't want to. I told him years ago he should write a book about his experience and he said "I want to keep these things with me"... the look when he said that was the look of a tired, haunted, scarred man. I wish that I could know everything that happened to him in that war. Who he was then. My father is still bitter... can you blame him? He would tell his tales of terror...( I won't type them in a blog becuase they are his... not mine.) almost as if this was a recent thing. When Paul and I were "together", Paul came home from Iraq, and my father wanted to be there for Paul so he could deal with the war terrors. Paul, the biggest scumbag in my eyes, would always try to make things worse than they actually were. Paul has only been in the military for a year, and in Iraq for I think 3 months or so, give or take. Anyway, during his stay in Iraq, he watched movies, goofed off etc. Not my father... he was in a real war. What's going on in Iraq now is a lot calmer than what it was, so I have close to no sympathy for him. Anyway, when Paulette came home, he told my father about how he told the new recruits what to do, and because they didn't listen to him, he ended up putting them in body bags. He made himself out to be some sort of God, espically now that he was in "war" which isn't really a war anymore... more of a battle if anything. Anyway, he kept saying "I was there I knew how it was, but those guys didn't listen" as if to say he was the almighty military man. One thing you don't do around my father is fabricate things to make yourself look like some heroic soldier. He told my dad about how he saw some guy in the store wearing his military uniform, and he told him "If I ever see you dressed like this again I'll beat your ass"... oh please Paul. Paul had/has a sorry life, and to make up for it he comes up with lies to make himself someone new. I've always had that problem. I'm actually kind of happy he's out of my life now. He's no good. Anyway, back to my hero, my father had said to me that he was a little bit angry because when Paul came home, there was a celebration, and people treated him good. He was a hero in the eyes of the people, for being "brave" etc. My father did not get that loving welcome, he was spit on as soon as he got off the airplane. He was loved only by those that really knew him. Ugh, God, I hate Paul right now for being such a jerk. Anyway, I wish that my father could be happy. I hope to make something of myself before it's too late. I want the end of his years to be peaceful and happy. I want to ease his suffering, if even only for a bit. My father deserves something good. I wish life wasn't so unfair. He has suffered so much, and I know there is even more to it. And so, in conclusion, my father is my biggest hero. I couldn't have gotten luckier in the parent department. I just hope that someday, somehow things work out for all of us, me, you, the people in Iraq, Spain.... everywhere. The world.
I am for some reason riding along a trail of luck. My parents were going to kick me out of the house because I plan on getting my tongue pierced, but somehow... I got lucky. They are going to let me stay! WTF? I feel lucky. OK, I need to talk about a recent.. creepy, weird conversation I recently had with this guy. OMG... can you say weird?? By the end of our conversation, he requested that when we meet I use a strap on .... on him!! WTF?? That is a little weird for me there buddy. That wasn't the part that gets to me though... he was jerking off, and I guess he had this thing in his... um ass, and I heard his kid talking after he came, and when he went to get his dirty toy. How the fuck can you do that?!?! I feel like he's probably a child molester... even though I have nothing to really confirm that. It just freaks me out that he shares a room with his 3 year old son, and ... you know, fucks himself... does that get him off or something? God I fucking hope not. That is suck a disturbing thought for me... way more upsetting than the queer dildo in the ass thing. I dunno. Here's the issue I'm having... the whole kid thing, not the fact that he has a kid, but the fact that he sleep in the same room with his self proclaimed "homophobe" father. Creepy. However, there is an odd element of excitement involved in this. This is so queer, and I feel retarded saying this on my blog, but thank god nobody reads this thing. Anyway, I've never let anyone do anything more than have missionary sex with me... that's it. I mean I've given head, but I've never done it doggy style, or the pile driver... none of it.. never been eaten out (I'm weirded out by that thought... it seems nasty)... but that's in part because I'm disgusted with myself... I hate myself, and I imagine that the other person hates what they see too. I dunno. Not that anyone really wants to hear about my sexual life. So, anyway, I know that more than likely if I hooked up with this insane perv. my horizons would expand in terms of my own personal sexual encounter. The whole kid thing though really, really, really bugs me... I just don't feel okay about that, even though I have no real proof of what I think is going on in that household, the whole situation feels wrong. Thank God he hasn't called me since that day... yay!! I told a few of my friends about this insane man, and they all agree that I should never see him or talk to him again. I was telling my friend John about how I wanted to confront this sicko and tell him I suspect something foul between him and his son, but John feels that would be a very very bad move. He thinks this guy would go after me to elminate the threat to his family. The thing is though, I don't think that would happen. I think he would just deny it and try to pass it off to me that he's not like that, but... I just get a bad feeling about that family... things are certainly twisted. Speaking of twisted, I had my first therapy session with a schizophrenic. It was horrible, and scary... I'm seriously going to reconsider my decision to become a psychologist. Here's the deal. Last night, I had to train somebody at my job site, so they came 2 hours early, and it was just he and I. He said he will soon be turning 55 (just so you know the age). His body... was weird. Perhaps he has some sort of disease because things were just misproportioned... his legs and arms were much longer than they should be for someone of his height. He has messed up teeth, they were just messed up, and his smile reminded me of smething... when he smiled, I felt scared, and weird. I dunno. He also had a lot of odd looking wounds that he was picking at during our terribly long conversation. They were all over his arms, and they were huge circles... I dunno. I'm just scared of him, his appearance is bad, but once he opens his mouth to speak, it gets worse. Much, much worse. Here is our conversation, I'll cut out the boring stuff, and after I certain point in our conversation, I decided to stop paying attention(something I never do, I always stay focused on the person and there story). His name by the way is Bob... B for short.
Me- Hi, have you been here before?
B- No, nice building though... weird things have been happening to me.
Me- (A little weirded out... not something you usually say when your meeting someone for the first time) Oh, um, ok. So, let me tell you about what you'll be doing, what your job is while your here etc.
B- Ok, sure.(Then I spend a small amount of time showing him where to sign in, and the smoking rules)
B- So many weird things are happening.
Me- (At this point, he had said that twice, meaning to me that he wanted to talk about these "weird" things... so I decided to venture into his weirdness) What weird things?
B- He comes to me, takes me away, and talks.
Me- (I think that I am pretty good at being like a psycologist, I have helped many people, and I take pride in that piece of myself. However, I do not know enough about certain illnesses to help people. I probably should not have egged him on, because it's too much for someone that doesn't really know what they are dealing with. I was stupid, but curious). Who is talking to you, and are they talking to you now B?
B- He talks to me, and takes the body, makes me do things I don't remember, but nobody ever tells me[what happened].
Me- What does he say? Do you know him?
B- He tells me to get out. He is not God or an angel, or a relative... he is Satan
Me- (At this point, I know I have jumped into trying to help this guy too fast... I am not quailfied to help him, nor do I care to. It scared me, but I kept asking questions). What does he sound like, what is he telling you to do? Is he talking to you now? (I was plowing him with a lot of questions at the same time, but I felt nervous, and I wanted to know about the man sitting in front of me.)
B- His voice is unlike ours. You cannot really hear him, but he is there. Slow... like time was going slow... warped. He has given me a gift... I have a gift. He tells me to get out, and he shows me dreams of things before they happen. They do happen, maybe it takes awhile, but they always happen. He is not talking now.
Me- What has he told you in the past?
B- To get out... his words were "get off now" i remember them... I'll never forget.
Me- "get off now".. what as he talking about?
B- He told me to jump off my motorcycle.
Me- Did you?
B- Yes. Not at first though, he hit me, 3 times. He was so strong. The first time he hit me, it was hard, but I held on, the second time, it was harder, but I still held on... the third time, I couldn't hold on, and he hit me really hard, I fell off.
Me- When did this happen?
B- Um... 1994 I think. You want to know the weirdest part though?
Me- What's that?
B- A man pulled over on the highway and watched it, he never helped me, but he was there.. I think he did it.
Me- (Oh my fucking god... I want to go home, I was scared, but I wanted to know more... so I kept going with my questions) So, you think he was Satan?
B- No, Satan wasn't there that day. I don't know who he was, but he had powers too.
Me- (Motherfucked told me Satan was there) You told me Satan was there that day. Who said "Get off now"?
B- I don't know, it was just a voice, clear as day... but that man did it to me.
Me- Tell me about Satan, what happens when you hear Satan? (I wanted to get off the bike accident because he was starting to trail into some stuff about the minor injuries.)
B- Well, when I heard him, he took over my body, was making me say things weird, and I was driving a truck... my partner didn't tell me about this. I was sitting in the back seat and the entity was taking over.
Me- Your partner never said anything? He didn't ask you about what you were saying?
B- No
Me- So, what happened while the entity was driving?
B- I don't know, but we made it, I don't know how, and neither does my partner, I had a dream about this many nights for 3 years.
Me- (This is becoming too much for me, and I feel sorry for this tortured man... I can't help him, but we keep talking.) Made it? What did you make?
B- IN the dream, I was trying to pass a truck, and someone gets hit... we almost did, i think, I don't know, but it came true, I just don't remember. I had a dream that my roomate and I would get into a fight in the kitchen and one would go out the window.. I didn't know who though.
Me- Has the dream come true?
B- Yes
Me- Who went out the window?
B- We fought on the steps, things happend about 5 seconds faster, otherwise it would have been in the kitchen... the dimension was different.
Me- (OMG... now I'm just really listening... I got really freaked out, and decided that I was going to just nodd and agree with whatever he was feeling)
He claims that he has been to the differnent dimensions, and that he almost left his body, but he couldn't do it alone, so he searched for energy, but only found negative energy. So he as he said "failed, but it almost happened, almost". I noticed that almost all of the time that these weird things happened to him, he had claimed he was under the influence of something... drugs or alcohol. He claimed that during each time he was just feeling "good" not completely intoxicated by whatever the drug was. He also claims that he has a very high tolerance for both drugs and alcohol, so he never worried about drinking too much because he never really got drunk. However, he later slipped by saying that he was "just barely illegally drunk" durning his motocycle accident. I suppose that he was close to being considered too drunk to drive. I dunno. He mainly sees and hears odd things. He recently saw an old woman walking in the road on his way home from a site, it wasd about 2am and he was having "car troubles" and out of nowhere, and little old woman came out and asked if he needed help... it was raining too. He smiled when he told me that, and told me no more. I do not know if this woman helped him, or anything else... I have no idea, and he didn't bother to tell me.. he skipped on to another time in his life... then he told me about his 26 yr. old roommate (the kid probably takes advantage of him, he's an old sick man) and told me about how horrible his roommate is, and just a whole bunch of stuff about his family. The people that killed themselves (there were 3) the mentally ill cousin, brother and mother.... schizophrenic by the way. I don't know what he suffers with. Is his living in his own world? Did the bike thing really happen? I believe that he hears the voices, but if the bike thing didn't even happen at all, that means that he's creating this alternate life for himself... is that still schzophrenia? I don't really know if he has that or not. I donn't know.... but he scared me, and it's creepy to be around someone who talks about the "entity" often, and claims that they hear Satan, and go to "parallel universes".... I decided that I absolutly WILL NOT even try further to help this man. In fact, I'm going to tell me boss that this man needs to have an evaluation... ASAP. He needs medication, no amount of talking to him will do anything. If anything, he will feel open to exposing me further to his world. He may even act out, feeling that it's okay because I understand (something I kept saying when I decided to stop asking questions). He may feel some sort of "connection" between us that could lead to something very unhealthy. Wow, I just thought about something... I used to tell myself that if I don't kill myself, my death will either be like a car accident, or something, or someone I tried to help will kill me becuase I got in over my head... what if this is that case? I know I got in over my head, does this man have the potential to be dangerous? He seems benign, trapped inside himself... but what if by talking to him I opened something. Oh God, I don't know. Here's something odd. This man is 55 years old (an looks the part might I add) and when I came into work this afternoon, the guy I was relieving said "did you write this?" on the calender that we all use it said "J.G. sucks!" It didn't actually say J.G. it said the full name, but JG is the client, he has the power to keep us on this site or get rid of us... I never told him JG was our client.. I never even mentioned the name. JG has his buisness cards around the desk, so maybe he saw one.Also, the exclaimation point was an open circle with a smiley face inside. The point is, he's 55 years old... children do that. I know that the guy that I relieved, the guy that showed me that writing is going to show the client, he already told me. I think though that I'm going to call the client first and tell him that this man should not be removed from this site... but not because of the "JG sucks!" at least. If he plans on removing him, it should be because he is mentally ill, and needs help. B also asked about cameras in the building (there are none, I know this for a fact), and he he insisted that they are "always watching me, so, I know they are here" and pointed to many places in the building that was hiding a camera...it was crazy. So, I'm not sure if I'll be logging this as a personal defeat on my behalf. I think that I'm still going to someday go to college and become a psycologist... speaking of that... my mother came home today and said that my little cousin said "thank you", i asked for what, and my mom was like " she says thank you for being her inspiration, her motivation... she wants to be a psycologist"... ugh.... fuck you. How am I a motivator? How did I inspire you? By dropping out and never making that dream a reality? Oh, I motivated you not to be like me. Please, don't try being nice. I know who i am, I know what I have done, and I know that you will make it before I do... do not try to downplay your future success against me by proclaiming me as your "inspiration"... get real. Oh, and you want to hang out too? I will, but only to prove to you that I am not who you think I am. I am still a sucess... I am still something... just becuase I will not make the money you'll make doesn't mean that I am a complete failure... I know have have nothing to show for it... but that was my decision. I chose this life, and I am happy with it. Am I jealous of you? Yes, and I always have been. Your so pretty, perfect blond hair, blue eyes, perfect body, brains... perfect perfect... even though inside you are not perfect, nobody is. Due to that knowledge, i feel bad for hating you sometimes. I guess I'm just jealous that your better than me. I just wish things were different. I know that you will be more than I will ever be, in every aspect of your life... so I should be happy for you. I'm not dead yet though. i may as well be because you are the apple in the family eye. Please, don't put me aboard your sympathy train. Don't put me in any position that is beside you. I am not your inspiration nor am I your motivation (if anything, I motivate you to stay in school, stay away from drugs, and be anybody you want, but nothing like me)... please, don't try doing me any favors, don't pity me. Go ahead, you may as well take my dreams from me... they will never be a reality to me. I will never make it... so you might as well take it for your own. I shall go on the back burner... where I belong, and where my hope lies.
Sunday, May 30th, 2004
If somebody ever asked me who my hero is/was... I would without a doubt say my father. My father, in my eyes, is a warrior... the unbreakable... God-like. I don't know why he was given the life he lived... I often wish I could wipe away his past. I recently watched the movie Hamburger Hill... it's about Vietnam, a war my father was apart of. A war that still haunts my father, a war that will never leave him. If my father does not make it through the pearly gates of Heaven, than Heaven is not a place I would want to be to begin with. I came home this morning and told my father about the movie (he does not want to see it, and I cannot blame him, he is still tortured with the real memories) I had a few questions about some of the thing that happened... and then, he told me about the real side of it. When my father speaks of Vietnam, you can see the pain. His eyes glaze over... and you know that he still sees it inside. I asked him if he still dreams about it, and he said "No, knock on wood"... when he talks about Vietnam, you can see the pain. He is no longer the father I know, he is someone that once was. Someone that he tries to hide. He endured so much, and yet, he managed to still be a great man. There are many things he will not talk about... he doesn't want to. I told him years ago he should write a book about his experience and he said "I want to keep these things with me"... the look when he said that was the look of a tired, haunted, scarred man. I wish that I could know everything that happened to him in that war. Who he was then. My father is still bitter... can you blame him? He would tell his tales of terror...( I won't type them in a blog becuase they are his... not mine.) almost as if this was a recent thing. When Paul and I were "together", Paul came home from Iraq, and my father wanted to be there for Paul so he could deal with the war terrors. Paul, the biggest scumbag in my eyes, would always try to make things worse than they actually were. Paul has only been in the military for a year, and in Iraq for I think 3 months or so, give or take. Anyway, during his stay in Iraq, he watched movies, goofed off etc. Not my father... he was in a real war. What's going on in Iraq now is a lot calmer than what it was, so I have close to no sympathy for him. Anyway, when Paulette came home, he told my father about how he told the new recruits what to do, and because they didn't listen to him, he ended up putting them in body bags. He made himself out to be some sort of God, espically now that he was in "war" which isn't really a war anymore... more of a battle if anything. Anyway, he kept saying "I was there I knew how it was, but those guys didn't listen" as if to say he was the almighty military man. One thing you don't do around my father is fabricate things to make yourself look like some heroic soldier. He told my dad about how he saw some guy in the store wearing his military uniform, and he told him "If I ever see you dressed like this again I'll beat your ass"... oh please Paul. Paul had/has a sorry life, and to make up for it he comes up with lies to make himself someone new. I've always had that problem. I'm actually kind of happy he's out of my life now. He's no good. Anyway, back to my hero, my father had said to me that he was a little bit angry because when Paul came home, there was a celebration, and people treated him good. He was a hero in the eyes of the people, for being "brave" etc. My father did not get that loving welcome, he was spit on as soon as he got off the airplane. He was loved only by those that really knew him. Ugh, God, I hate Paul right now for being such a jerk. Anyway, I wish that my father could be happy. I hope to make something of myself before it's too late. I want the end of his years to be peaceful and happy. I want to ease his suffering, if even only for a bit. My father deserves something good. I wish life wasn't so unfair. He has suffered so much, and I know there is even more to it. And so, in conclusion, my father is my biggest hero. I couldn't have gotten luckier in the parent department. I just hope that someday, somehow things work out for all of us, me, you, the people in Iraq, Spain.... everywhere. The world.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
Saturday, May 01, 2004
God, I am so fucking depressed today. I just feel so thin, as though I am butter that has been spead across too much bread (yes, I know, LOTR- Bilbo said it when he was talking about his old age at his b-day party, yes, I know, I'm a loser). What is my problem? I have become mildly obsessed with LOTR. Not really the story line, but the things the characters say... some of that stuff is really good advice, good phrases. You know? The LOTR movie was good but I'm not relly a huge fan... I'm just in love with the costumes and characters and the way they talk... nnot the story line though, I swear. OMG, I'M A FREAK!! I HATE liking LOTR's!!!! I guess I associate liking that movie with certain types of people. I WILL NEVER go to some sort of convention.
Saturday, May 15th, 2004
Well, it's been 2 weeks since I've had anything else to say, and I noticed that things haven't gotten much better. God how depressing. I am, so depressed. I feel like I am on the brink of a complete relapse. It's almost been 2 years since I've been hospitalized, my longest time out yet. The reason why is because now, I have more responsibility. I am no longer under my parents insurance. If I ever need help, I have to take care of it myself. When I feel trapped, with no way out... then I have to find a new way out, I no longer can take refuge in a hospital. I wish I was then who I am now. I wish that my life could be different. I know that it is up to me to change, but I just cannot. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. I'm sick of living here, on this god forsaken earth. I'm sick of it all. I so badly want to give up and allow the darkness to engolf me. I am so misunderstood. I am so alone. Relapse screams in my ear... I know that it is soon to come. I am so tired of being alone. I want to have a relationship. I want to feel alive again. There is nothing in this world that can revive my broken soul except for love. I'm tired of losing people and being hurt, I'm tired of being me. I realize that when I say I want to leave, I don't mean just this town, I mean this world. I want to be free and happy. Some of the happiest days of my life were created by being apart of the worst. For example... drugs. When I was doing drugs, I was so happy, granted it was my money that bought me happiness... but I don't care. I've always needed those connections. I need to be needed. I so badly want it to end. I want my misery to stop, and I want the people that have turned their back on me to be sad, and empty... but what if I never had any impact on those people to begin with? I guess I'm not worth fighting for... that's something I've been learning a lot about lately. If I truly loved someone, and I knew there was even a chance, a flicker of hope, I'd fight. Love is worth fighting for. Maybe the people that left me never loved me to begin with. They never put up a fight. I even opened the door for them. I suppose it's true, you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot force it to drink.... I just hate being so goddamn alone. It's like living under a cloud of despair. Happiness is just beyond my grasp... perhaps I should lower my expectations. I'm sick of being hurt. I realize that I'm not worth the battles... but why?? What about me is... what makes me nothing? What makes me disposible? Is it becuase of the outside or inside of me. I'm just so hurt. Paul tore through me like a knife though butter. I am just an open bleeding wound that has no desire to heal itself. I feel like I am giving up on the great battle of life. I am rolling over and praying that soon my pain will end. I'm sick of fighting... there is nothing to fight for. I feel a breakdown... Paul.... the pain.... how could he leave me like that?? First he openly hurts me... but then he makes it worse by just leaving me there, a bloody mess... nothing. I am nothing. Nobody cares, and that truth has become painfully obvious.... I thought that I was someone, I was wrong, and that hurts. I feel something though. I cannot yet tell if it is good or bad, something is coming. Something will be different soon. I feel it. I think that maybe we are coming close to the end... something I have been anticipating for a long time now. I just feel like my task is almost over. I have been through so much battle, and soon I will be home. I kind of feel like I've hit rock bottom inside... I just wish that I was given more to fight for, then maybe I wouldn't give up so easily. I want to be rescued. I want someone to take me away... someone, something... anything. I just want to escape. I notice more often i long to hurt myself more (a very good sign to me that things are getting bad again). I think a lot about getting into a car accidents... taking my life by swerving into the other lane. WHY CAN'T MY PAST EVER LEAVE ME?!?!? I don't want to suffer anymore!! What must I do? I've done hospitals, therapy, meds.... EVERYTHING!! I even changed my life around.... WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME??? What is the solution??? Where can I be free? Why am I tortured by myself? I'd rather physical pain.. because with the physical pain, I can see it, medicate it, and heal. That's one of the reasons that cutting became a love for me... like a secret lover. When I hurt, I would cut, watch the blood drip from my cut (I cut deep when i was really in pain) then imagine it taking the pain away. I used to call the blood that left my body during that time "bad blood"... and then after the blood would begin to dry, I'd clean it and take whatever steps needed to be taken to heal it, and I'd be okay. My mind would be clear, and I would be okay. I long to feel that again. I feel that maybe too much "bad blood" has built up, and it is poisoning me. I need to bleed. Remind myself that soon I will be rescued, I must be patient. Physical pain is so unlike that of emotional pain. Physical pain can only last for so long, and there is almost always some form of treatment. Mental pain is torture... it sometimes never ends, it attacks you with slyness of a fox... it is not something you can pinpoint. You cannot say it hurts here, or here... all you know is that it hurts... it's a throbbing pain that advil cannot cure. All the drugs in the world are still unable to save people from themselves. Some of us were meant to hurt... I think I am one of them. I feel so poisoned inside... I just feel vile... foul... dirty. Useless, hopeless, alone, lost.... everything is spinning around me. I feel that soon I will regress. Today is one of the worst days ever. This goddamn job of mine is so fucked. I can't be alone... locked up... I need to be out. When I'm with friends I feel great, most of the time... but here, alone... I am fighting my demons, over and over again. I think of how easy it would be... to end it. I see it. I see myself going to the janitors closet, getting a few garbage bags, putting a hole it them, using rubber bands to secure it to my exhaust pipe, and around my neck. Laying down, inhailing... allowing death to take me away. Then I see the horror on the face of the unlucky man that comes in first every weekend.... I see the hectic life ahead for my family. Then homicide comes to mind, but I could never, EVER hurt my family more than I already have, they are too dear to me. I wish I could leave at my own free will... just check out, but I can't I have to wait. I must be patient... I soon will bleed. I need to feel alive again. I am contaminated.
Sunday, May 23rd, 2004
For some reason, I am okay with the fact that something bad is going to happen to me later this week. In fact, I'm not worried at all, I'm excited at the chance to overcome the challenge. Something huge is probably going to happen, but I am prepared. I know that the future ahead could be either good or bad, depending. I hope that things will be okay. I'll find a way... at least I feel like I will. Things may not go my way, and they probably won't (something I'm slowly getting used to) but I still feel positive, I still feel like this is a minor bump in the road, when it's kind of huge. Maybe I'm getting healthy or something. LoL. I dunno, but I'm ready to accept the consequences of all my actions, and I'm ready to face the challenge head on. Like I said, i'm kind of excited. At first, when this challenge was talked about I would cringe because that was not a fate I could accept.. but now, I look at it, and it was recently brought up again. I was angry and hurt and scared at first, but then I played with the idea, and I discovered, to my surprise, that it wouldn't be that bad. It would be so more more than I had expected. I think I can do this. I feel confident that if and when this old terror raises it's head, I will be able to look it in the eye, understand, forgive, accept, and move on... I can do this, I HAVE to do this.
God, I am so fucking depressed today. I just feel so thin, as though I am butter that has been spead across too much bread (yes, I know, LOTR- Bilbo said it when he was talking about his old age at his b-day party, yes, I know, I'm a loser). What is my problem? I have become mildly obsessed with LOTR. Not really the story line, but the things the characters say... some of that stuff is really good advice, good phrases. You know? The LOTR movie was good but I'm not relly a huge fan... I'm just in love with the costumes and characters and the way they talk... nnot the story line though, I swear. OMG, I'M A FREAK!! I HATE liking LOTR's!!!! I guess I associate liking that movie with certain types of people. I WILL NEVER go to some sort of convention.
Saturday, May 15th, 2004
Well, it's been 2 weeks since I've had anything else to say, and I noticed that things haven't gotten much better. God how depressing. I am, so depressed. I feel like I am on the brink of a complete relapse. It's almost been 2 years since I've been hospitalized, my longest time out yet. The reason why is because now, I have more responsibility. I am no longer under my parents insurance. If I ever need help, I have to take care of it myself. When I feel trapped, with no way out... then I have to find a new way out, I no longer can take refuge in a hospital. I wish I was then who I am now. I wish that my life could be different. I know that it is up to me to change, but I just cannot. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough. I'm sick of living here, on this god forsaken earth. I'm sick of it all. I so badly want to give up and allow the darkness to engolf me. I am so misunderstood. I am so alone. Relapse screams in my ear... I know that it is soon to come. I am so tired of being alone. I want to have a relationship. I want to feel alive again. There is nothing in this world that can revive my broken soul except for love. I'm tired of losing people and being hurt, I'm tired of being me. I realize that when I say I want to leave, I don't mean just this town, I mean this world. I want to be free and happy. Some of the happiest days of my life were created by being apart of the worst. For example... drugs. When I was doing drugs, I was so happy, granted it was my money that bought me happiness... but I don't care. I've always needed those connections. I need to be needed. I so badly want it to end. I want my misery to stop, and I want the people that have turned their back on me to be sad, and empty... but what if I never had any impact on those people to begin with? I guess I'm not worth fighting for... that's something I've been learning a lot about lately. If I truly loved someone, and I knew there was even a chance, a flicker of hope, I'd fight. Love is worth fighting for. Maybe the people that left me never loved me to begin with. They never put up a fight. I even opened the door for them. I suppose it's true, you can lead a horse to water, but you cannot force it to drink.... I just hate being so goddamn alone. It's like living under a cloud of despair. Happiness is just beyond my grasp... perhaps I should lower my expectations. I'm sick of being hurt. I realize that I'm not worth the battles... but why?? What about me is... what makes me nothing? What makes me disposible? Is it becuase of the outside or inside of me. I'm just so hurt. Paul tore through me like a knife though butter. I am just an open bleeding wound that has no desire to heal itself. I feel like I am giving up on the great battle of life. I am rolling over and praying that soon my pain will end. I'm sick of fighting... there is nothing to fight for. I feel a breakdown... Paul.... the pain.... how could he leave me like that?? First he openly hurts me... but then he makes it worse by just leaving me there, a bloody mess... nothing. I am nothing. Nobody cares, and that truth has become painfully obvious.... I thought that I was someone, I was wrong, and that hurts. I feel something though. I cannot yet tell if it is good or bad, something is coming. Something will be different soon. I feel it. I think that maybe we are coming close to the end... something I have been anticipating for a long time now. I just feel like my task is almost over. I have been through so much battle, and soon I will be home. I kind of feel like I've hit rock bottom inside... I just wish that I was given more to fight for, then maybe I wouldn't give up so easily. I want to be rescued. I want someone to take me away... someone, something... anything. I just want to escape. I notice more often i long to hurt myself more (a very good sign to me that things are getting bad again). I think a lot about getting into a car accidents... taking my life by swerving into the other lane. WHY CAN'T MY PAST EVER LEAVE ME?!?!? I don't want to suffer anymore!! What must I do? I've done hospitals, therapy, meds.... EVERYTHING!! I even changed my life around.... WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME??? What is the solution??? Where can I be free? Why am I tortured by myself? I'd rather physical pain.. because with the physical pain, I can see it, medicate it, and heal. That's one of the reasons that cutting became a love for me... like a secret lover. When I hurt, I would cut, watch the blood drip from my cut (I cut deep when i was really in pain) then imagine it taking the pain away. I used to call the blood that left my body during that time "bad blood"... and then after the blood would begin to dry, I'd clean it and take whatever steps needed to be taken to heal it, and I'd be okay. My mind would be clear, and I would be okay. I long to feel that again. I feel that maybe too much "bad blood" has built up, and it is poisoning me. I need to bleed. Remind myself that soon I will be rescued, I must be patient. Physical pain is so unlike that of emotional pain. Physical pain can only last for so long, and there is almost always some form of treatment. Mental pain is torture... it sometimes never ends, it attacks you with slyness of a fox... it is not something you can pinpoint. You cannot say it hurts here, or here... all you know is that it hurts... it's a throbbing pain that advil cannot cure. All the drugs in the world are still unable to save people from themselves. Some of us were meant to hurt... I think I am one of them. I feel so poisoned inside... I just feel vile... foul... dirty. Useless, hopeless, alone, lost.... everything is spinning around me. I feel that soon I will regress. Today is one of the worst days ever. This goddamn job of mine is so fucked. I can't be alone... locked up... I need to be out. When I'm with friends I feel great, most of the time... but here, alone... I am fighting my demons, over and over again. I think of how easy it would be... to end it. I see it. I see myself going to the janitors closet, getting a few garbage bags, putting a hole it them, using rubber bands to secure it to my exhaust pipe, and around my neck. Laying down, inhailing... allowing death to take me away. Then I see the horror on the face of the unlucky man that comes in first every weekend.... I see the hectic life ahead for my family. Then homicide comes to mind, but I could never, EVER hurt my family more than I already have, they are too dear to me. I wish I could leave at my own free will... just check out, but I can't I have to wait. I must be patient... I soon will bleed. I need to feel alive again. I am contaminated.
Sunday, May 23rd, 2004
For some reason, I am okay with the fact that something bad is going to happen to me later this week. In fact, I'm not worried at all, I'm excited at the chance to overcome the challenge. Something huge is probably going to happen, but I am prepared. I know that the future ahead could be either good or bad, depending. I hope that things will be okay. I'll find a way... at least I feel like I will. Things may not go my way, and they probably won't (something I'm slowly getting used to) but I still feel positive, I still feel like this is a minor bump in the road, when it's kind of huge. Maybe I'm getting healthy or something. LoL. I dunno, but I'm ready to accept the consequences of all my actions, and I'm ready to face the challenge head on. Like I said, i'm kind of excited. At first, when this challenge was talked about I would cringe because that was not a fate I could accept.. but now, I look at it, and it was recently brought up again. I was angry and hurt and scared at first, but then I played with the idea, and I discovered, to my surprise, that it wouldn't be that bad. It would be so more more than I had expected. I think I can do this. I feel confident that if and when this old terror raises it's head, I will be able to look it in the eye, understand, forgive, accept, and move on... I can do this, I HAVE to do this.
Wednesday, May 05, 2004
I'M SOOO HAPPY RIGHT NOW!! I'M GONNA FUCK A HOTT HOTT HOTT KID. OMG, MOLLY, WAIT TILL YOU SEE THE PICTURES!!! OMG!!! Omg!! I feel... omg, LUCKY!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'M SO HAPPY!!
Monday, April 26, 2004
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Sunday, April 25th, 2003
I am so depressed. i'm not sure if it's because I'm tired or because I'm actually depressed. Everytime I watch the MTV series Viva la Bam I get depressed. You know why? Because they are this tight click of friends that are always doing something fun. They are always having fun, even when there's nothing to do. They have scavenger hunts, and they just have fun together.... I WANT that! I WANT that tight click. I want to feel like I belong to something... feel like I am somebody. I hate myself for being me. I dunno. I'm just so depressed. I 'lost' 2 people in my life recently. I am silently glad to be rid of one of them. So, here's the deal. Mila and I got drunk on 420 because neither of us do drugs, so we did some drinking. She wanted to um... you know... do stuff with me. I let her, I dunno why, I was just in that type of queer (no pun intended) mood. So, since that little night, we haven't talked. I'm kind of okay with that though. I feel like I had taken my 'relationship' with her to the level I wanted. I feel closure. I have serious closure issues, and I feel like somehow everything worked out. I don't know how. It's odd. I'm just not very upset about her not talking to me anymore... in fact, I'm not so sure I care at all. I just feel like that 'chapter' of my life is over. There have been sooo many people that have come and gone and I think that this is her time to leave... it just feels... right. I dunno. So, that's 1 lost. Then the other person, Paul... he fucked up... bad. Here's what happened, I was hanging out with him and we went to go pick up another one of his friends. We were all standing outside and 2 more people joined us, another chick and her b/f. This girl was talking about how she was 'fat' and Paul looked at her, then at me and said "No... this is FAT".... then I broke apart inside... but I said to Paul "you know, I KNOW what I look like, I don't need you to point it out to people" and he said "Your right, you don't need to point it out, it's obvious, it's not like we can miss you". Does anyone know the pain I felt??? 1. I didn't expect that from HIM, I never thought HE of all people would do that to me... he has no reason to talk, he's not fat, but he has some obvious 'issues' that I could point out. 2. I felt like I was back in school. Getting picked on in front of the pretty girls and their boyfriends... no one to back me up. Completely helpless. I cannot even describe how much that hurt me. It just makes me think along the lines of " I should never walk outside again, even the people I thought loved me think I'm to fat"... I'm crying right now, i'm such a pussy. I just feel so hurt. It's been 3 days, and it still burns like it was today. It's like... imagine someone you love, and you think they love you, and you proclaim your love for them in front of everyone, but they just look at you and say "I don't love you now, I never did, I never will, and neither will anyone else".... I just feel like I am not good enough. What am I to think when someone I love... (and I thought loved me) can't even accept me?? If you can't except me than I have no reason to be. I feel so alone now. I hate myself, and if I had balls I would do more than just cry about it. I can't though... NOBODY gets it!! I WAS HAPPY WITH MYSELF!!! ALL MY FUCKING LIFE I'VE BEEN TOLD "be happy with yourself, accept yourself, how you feel about yourself is all that matters"... well, I WAS HAPPY!! THEN PEOPLE WANTED ME TO CHANGE.... I FUCKING HATE YOU ALL. I HATE MYSELF, I HATE EVERYTHING. I am so alone in this battle, as with every other one. It just hurts. So much. Paul did more to me than he knows. I hate being fat... people act that I don't want to change, I do want to change, but not for myself, I want to change so all of you MOTHERFUCKERS can accept me. I was happy, but I can't be happy alone. I'll never be able to fit in, I'll never lose any weight, and I'll never be able to accept it. It just.... hurts. A lot. I don't want to talk about this anymore, I'm at work, and people will be coming in soon and I'm crying like a baby. Later. One more thing I'd like to add, Paul said that shit in front of 3 complete strangers!! He knew them, but I didn't.... when he said that, they just said "that's not nice".... one of the girls there is "chunky" I wouldn't say fat, but she isn't skinny either... she's weighs more than an "average" girl her age and height... but he certainly didn't say anything to her. All that I wish for... I wish Paul could read this. He'd never be able to feel the pain I feel, but maybe he'd understand a little bit. I can't allow things between him and I to go back to normal... he crossed the lines, now I find myself questioning everything... did he ever care?? SHIT, I'm sobbing again. I'm just so alone, depressed, and suicidal. I want to die. Living hurts to much. peace
Thursday, April 22, 2004
UGH!!! I am filled with hate, pain, anger...etc. Why do people have to suck so fucking bad? Next post will be filled with ranting and raving... the usual.
