Monday, March 28, 2011

Moral: Bored & Unhappy

I keep opening different folders on my computer. And new tabs in Firefox. But I can't come up with anything to do. I look at all the games I could be playing and all the things I could be reading and even all the pictures I could be looking at and I get bored .2 seconds into it.

Then I think about all the things I want to be doing and wonder why I'm not even though it's incredibly obvious why I'm not doing those things: drinking heavily, snorting cocaine (although I've never done this, so I don't know if I really want to but it sounds fun), punching walls, crying into a pillow, crying in a corner, crying in my car, ramming my car into a tree repeatedly, watching movies about people who lose loved ones, cutting my eyeballs slowly with razors, acquiring an addiction to something like soft-core porn or cutting, watching music videos about suicide, or anything equally as depressing as all the aforementioned things.

What I really want to be doing is talking to someone. Not anyone, but a specific someone. But I can't because I would feel guilty and shitty about it. So I'll wait for her to come to me and tell me that it's ok to talk. It's like an airplane landing; you have to wait for the go ahead. That's all I'm waiting for...

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Now playing: The Postal Service - Sleeping In
via FoxyTunes

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Thursday, March 24, 2011

Another Nightmare

I just woke up, breathing heavily, because I had ANOTHER nightmare this week.

I had moved into a house with Mandy and some kitties and we were about to take a little nap upstairs in the bed together, when I heard the mailman. So I went downstairs to get it, and while the door was open, I could hear the neighbor beating his wife. He came out of the house and we made eye contact so I panicked and quickly shut the door. I locked it, the screen door, and then the door to get up the stairs. I ran back upstairs and told Mandy, but she was almost asleep and sort of ignored me.

The TV was on in the background and it was some show about a family of fishermen, who were expecting a new baby and the other kids were all on edge. The doorbell rang once, and I told her to ignore it because it was probably the wife beater. Anyway, I finally fell asleep but I was awakened by a strange noise. I tried to wake Mandy, but she didn't hear it, so we both went back to sleep. And the kitties were just hanging out, sleeping with us on the bed. And then I heard a creak, woke up, and the wife beater was standing over me with a knife. And before I could scream, he slammed the knife down into me. That's when I woke up.

I remember that our house was a minty green. Very distinctly. And he was wearing a leather jacket and had red hair.

Sunday, March 20, 2011

I Think Too Much

I drove to my elementary school and sat in the parking lot. As the tears rolled down my cheeks I remembered the old days, when the only things you had to worry about were catching cooties from the boys and who you would end up marrying in the game of MASH. I thought about the day my principal jumped off the swing-set and broke his arm, the day I won the hula hoop contest, the straight As, my Beauty & The Beast book-bag, the hour long bus rides...The list goes on; with every new memory comes at least two more.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

no title necessary

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
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FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK
FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

Friday, March 11, 2011

Remember that time I had to make a list of all the shit that was wrong in my life, stressing me to no end? It was last month, granted, but I keep thinking about it.

I'll start with #11: I have so many medical issues that I can't afford to take care of.

*I have this strange little lump on my leg that I have had for quite some time now, and until recently it was completely fine and unobtrusive in my life. The other day, it was itching quite annoyingly, so I itched it. It started bleeding. A lot. Like, four tissues worth of blood poured out of my leg. Since then, I have had to keep it covered with a band-aid, and this keeps catching on my pants. It then peels off the layer of clotting and then it bleeds some more. It's purple and gross and itchy and I think it may be some sort of blood clot or tumor.
*I have a strange skin rash on my chest and no matter how many times I get it to go away, it comes back. It itches and is very red and very bothersome.
*Sometimes I have my period twice a month. Sometimes it skips 2 or 3...I don't think this needs anymore explanation.
*I am so incredibly depressed and everyone keeps making jokes about it when I mention it. I don't know how to make people understand that I'm not joking. Ugh.

Saturday, March 05, 2011

Delta Dawn, What's That Flower You Have On?

I opened up to someone today and it freaked me out. She just said "What's wrong?" and I said, "I hate my life." At first I think she thought I was joking. But I assume the look I gave her when she laughed it off made her realize that I was not joking. She was trying to get me to explain, and I didn't really want to, so when she got called away to do something else I was happy. Then she came back, smiling and said "You know I'm just gonna keep asking you questions, right?" I was both relieved and scared. She tried to tell me how to start fixing my life. Now I'm just worried that she'll tell someone. She doesn't strike me as the kind of person who would, but still that kind of fear lingers.

I don't want to get hurt. Please don't hurt me secret friend.

PS: I wish I could sleep. For more than like 3 hours. It would be great. Or maybe I could be hungry. I made tacos, but I only ate 2 because I felt like if I didn't eat anything today except 2 sour patch kids, I would get sick.