You would just wait down town, if you would just wait downtown, I'll be there. No one tells a story like I do. Like I do. Like I do. Like I do with you. Obsession, or an idee fixe is a preoccupation of mind held so firmly as to resist any attempt to modify it, a fixation. No, no you can't be late. What will they say tomorrow. This bed, these pills are painting. They make me feel like leaving. I am not a nice person. Manipulative? yes. Nice? no.

I want to lie on my bed and stare down the folds of translucent sheeting that sweeps across my ceiling. The light trickled through it like a bride's face through her veil. Perfection and bliss come together like a beacon of hope that I might one day not have to stare in her face.

Tell me something new, something good, and something to convince me that I don't need you. People have this way of knowing everything. They take one short look and then move on. Don't.

I Will End Up an Old Hag

This is pretty awkward to mention on here, but whatever I guess I write about whatever I want, no matter the consequences. Everyone knows what I am like ... perfectly content for two weeks and then there are those few days where I want to blow my fucking brains out. Yes, I understand most people have medication for that, but I, instead, write down what I am thinking and somehow it makes me feel a minuscule bit better; as if writing is better than doing.
Lately I have been becoming skinnier and for some reason my eyes have turned into this permanent emerald color the less I eat. Now, I know I am not anorexic, as anorexic as this sounds, that I like not eating, that I could do with out it most of the time. The downsides to this situation I have started creating for myself is that my energy is crazy low so I sleep more. More importantly I am very happy during the day and then depressed at night. I cannot love myself more than ever. I always have this general liking toward myself, but most of the time I don't enjoy my own company. I am afraid of what this means. I cannot be told that I am beautiful without brushing it off a few minutes later. The initial shock is thrilling, but then it wears off. Even by someone I love. How can you love someone else if you don't love yourself? Something I am constantly battling.
The saddest part about this situation is that even though it is more extreme I have always been like this. Even when anyone would ever show interest in me I would avoid them as much as possible, knowing that they would probably not like me as a person anyways, so why bother? So I just end up sitting here crying about how right I am.

Peacefully Chomping Poem Philosophy

I have decided that Tennyson really did know a thing or two. His poem "The Lotos-Eaters" oddly connects me to his philosophies. It describes a boatload of mariners singing a song whilst high. They go on to sing that life is smelly, to rough on their back, and their significant others and sons are getting old and don't even appreciate their hard work. They realize being high is the only way, because all they want is peace. Me too.

Welp, I just got back from Wal-Mart and my credit card was declined...FUCKING AGAIN. I swear to God that I am going to kill the bank of america woman and kill her grandmother. This was not my fault. So I am sure Laura is pissed that she had to cover the bill again. I will pay her tomorrow though so all is not lost, but it probly didn't help her grouch mood.

School starts soon, which is amazing but I don't want to see my crazy ex-hous

e mates around campus. It would be uncomfortable and they are psycho, so I have no idea what they would do if they saw me. I wanna wear Kelly's pants and write on them, "Kelly is a slut face", which all in all is inaccurate. She wanted to be, but it didn't work out. However, I mean it in the sense that she is a butt face but it is less

9 year mentality and moves right into the 14 year old mentality...only 7 years to catch up to! Whoo! You say Tomato and I say... Fuck you.

I know you can be busy, but seriously, I feel like I am doing everything with this apart

ment and everything I don't do I have to really push Laura to do. I miss living in a dorm complex thing and I miss the college life and the drinking slash partying. This is minorly real life. And real life...really sucks.

Let's watch some Bones and forget that this blows and hope that I have enough mula for the tattoo guy. Yikes.

Farting Failures.

I am nervous as all hell. I want to stop worrying about everything.

Why do we worry about anything? Is it from the fear of failure and judgement from our peers? Why is failing so bad? Does it disrupt some sort of pattern in our society if everything does not align together? When did we as a race become so ept to being an assembly line?

We are programmed at school that failure is bad. We are punished with poor grades, detentions, social stigma and so on. This system is designed to train us all to be happy little workers. To be trained to confirm, do what we are told and like it. If you are failing at something then you are learning. If you stop learning you might as well give up on life.

If I fail anything I keep it to myself, I don't want to engage in a pity party. If I need some tips on how to pass next time then I will ask for those instead.

For example, if you fail your exam you have learned about your weak areas. Better in the exam than on live network. You have learned that your hands on speed needs work. You have learned about stress and anxiety and that you need to learn some relaxation techniques; which is something i obviously need.The Japanese have a saying 'Fall down seven times, stand up eight.' If you keep going towards your goals then you are successful. If you quit then you are a failure.

The motto we should be holding for each other is farting failures. In that failing are like little farts that aren't smelly but are embarrassingly loud. Get over it and carry on with your life. It should be so much simpler to get over failure, but maybe this is not the case because we need the embarrassment of failing to have the enthusiasm to do better the next time? I hope not.

Are YOU happy?

I can't help thinking how absurdly worthless I am. What am I doing? What am I worth? I am a little bitch. If I wasn't such a pussy shit, I would annihilate my throat with some sort of computer cord. The problem is there is nothing after death. Nothing. No satisfaction, knowing that I did what would release me from my "insanity". I want nothing more, to be released. Just leave, never come back. Let me go, knowing that I have been successfully too much for you to handle, for anyone to handle. I am too scared to be by myself. I am so worthless, it is ridiculous. If I had created anything of worth I would die of shock and that would be good enough for anyone. I don't want a funeral, I don't want anything. If I had sort of means I would run. I would run away, at least that is the easiest sort of death. Kind of like the wind sweeping up the urban trash. It is kind of beautiful actually. Someone passing cringes at the crumpled buts of newspaper that once held so much possibility and entertainment the morning before. There are so many ways to commit suicide. Bleeding, drowning, suffocation, electrocution, firearms, vehicular impact, poisoning, jumping, drug overdose, pesticide overdose, carbon oxide poisoning, explosion, and let us not forget starvation and dehydration, which is one of my favorites. I want my whining to stop somehow, but for now I don't have the energy to think about it at all. Abandonment for now is all I can think about. As long as you are happy that is all that matters.

Let It Be.

His head was full of love, love, love. When Jesus Christ was nailed to his tree he said O' Daddio I can see how it also could be. He said I came to shed a little light on this startling scene, instead I fear I spilled the blood of my children all around. Searching for love, love, love, love. Father up above, why all this hatred do you fill me up with love, love, love.

I am so done with this. I can't stop thinking about how much I am done with this. I am constantly being used. That is all I am good for. I can"t think of anyone, but my parents, that spend time with me because they really want to. I feel so alone. It doesn't seem to make sense that I continue, but I do anyways, for my parents sake. That is all. I am sitting here wearing my friend's shirt, because it smells like him and it makes me feel less lonely, but still sad none the less.

Here I am once again, by myself. As long as I am here for someone else's use, then it is fine I guess. I feel like there is much worse, but the dilemma lies in that when no one has any use for me, where does that leave me; by myself? It makes me look at the rafters in my living room and wonder how cold I would be hanging from them, and would it be less cold than what I feel now. Or it makes me look outside while it pours and it makes me realize lying in the rain would make me look crazy but would it wash away all my tears and that is something I look forward to; because right now I don't have any way of doing that. I can wipe it on Sam's shirt but that would still be me, wiping my own tears. I am so afraid, of everything, but especially of myself. That is something that is hard to live with.

Fucking Broads Mannnn

I received a text from psycho yesterday. It is official. Kelly is unstable. I almost laughed out loud when I got her text about how even though she told me to "never fucking talk to her again" that some how I was at fault for moving out without telling her. Yikes. This going to sound terrible but the only thing I can compare her to at this point is a cold sore, some sort of viral infection that no one wants, that you try to get off at any cost, but it takes weeks to go away. You don't want it but sometimes it just plagues your life in the most unexpected and unacceptable way. I feel sorry for any guy attached to her. Especially when she, if she ever decides to have children, because her pregnancy mood swings are going to be pure institutional chaos.

This whole ordeal made me think about how I can not live with chicks. Chicks are crazy. They lie, cheat, and do anything to feel like they are better than another chick. It is very strange. Actually speaking of not living with chicks it erks me that my other house mate told me that she still wants to be friends and still wanted to live with me next year but couldn't admit that to Kelly because it would ruin their relationship...that doesn't make sense for multiple reasons: 1.) being that what kind of friendship would be ruined by admitting how you actually feel to each other no matter what it is, the only reason to not be honest is fear, fear of a psychotic girl? maybe. 2.) being that if there was a reason that Kelly was upset with me, there could be an excuse to not want to bring up anything to do with the subject, but when some as crazy as she is just randomly lashes out on whatever is moving then why would you want to be friends with that. 3.) being how could I eve understand that you want to be friends with me but you admit that you cannot stand up for me when you admitted she was in the wrong? Like I said man, chicks.

For now I am going to bed because there is no way I can reason with someone who is has multiple personalities and can never take responsibility for their own life. If being a fucking institutionalized broad to whoever you can dig up some pathetic excuse to be mad at, then there is no point in arguing and there is certainly no point in trying to talk to someone like that.

I want to be on the beach. In the sun. Not here. But for now...I will survive with just a little sun.

Shattered.

I have hurt myself and the worst part is that there is no one but me to blame. I can try, but unfortunately eventually everything comes crashing back to the realization that I have hurt myself again. Yes, I think that I might break. I am so depressed and I feel like the people that I live with, first, don't give a fuck that I am dying inside and number two don't realize that they are partially responsible. It is a lack of perspective. I have it, I hate that I have perspective but I have it and I use it every which way and so for me it is hard to not be exceedingly frustrated when others can't bother to stop being so god damn selfish for one minute and try to understand anyone other than themselves.

Does blow help you forget about someone who can only dish out hatred? The answer is no. I had no idea that materialistically speaking someone so seemingly nice can be so nasty:

"Kelly I am sorry for breaking your candle holder, I am depressed and didn't mean to knock it off the table."

"No, seriously Jo, the meaning of sorry is I won't do it again and you have and it's ridiculous. Stop touching my stuff and talking to me. Honestly I don't even want to talk to you anymore. You're fucked up Joe."

Thank you oh so much for that perspective, if it wasn't for you I would have forgotten that I am deeply depressed and you never gave a shit about your supposed friend. Actually, I would have appreciated and actual knife in the back opposed to this cowardly selfish monologue that dips into the explanation of your own insecurities and obvious immaturities. Nice.

For now all I can do is figure out how much I am worth. Or if I feel like I worth any sort of saving. I have been through this before, I have been flipped out on and been the one people vent their frustrations and whatever is bothering them through coming up with absurd reason to hate someone. It is ridiculous. Some people need the attention, some people are genuinely confused, and some are so afraid of being in the wrong that it is easier to to hate me then to accept any sort of guilt. Oh well. All I can do now is sigh quietly to myself and try to the self hate and the hurt consume me, because for right now, in this moment, it is consuming me.

1-800-IAM-CUPID

Do I seep out some sort of smell that lets people know that they can tell me their secrets or that I want to be told any secrets at all? I am consumed by people's secrets. I have secrets too, you know. I have things that I need to remember to keep from people, and how can I do that when my head is filling up with other people's junk. I have so much on my mind.

I don't want to be with anyone ever again, i am being consumed right now. It is like a pack of wolves is devouring my brain. It is frustrating.

First off when was it okay to leave the country and then come back with a girlfriend? When he left I thought everything would be back together, he said he missed me, he said everything to lead me to believe we would be back the way we were. Instead he came back with a girlfriend. Which would have been fine, if he had the fucking courtesy to pick up the fucking phone and let me know that he moved on or was in process of moving on. Instead i heard silence. That is all I hear lately. Silence. So not only does he not inform me that he moved on but after a week of silence he thinks it is okay to let me know he does have a girlfriend and that even though he is with her, he is not over me. Well, fucking great. Now I used to have an enormous amount of feeling for *James, but now, well now I just do not know. How can I be with someone who thinks of me as their "weekend whore" or someone who is the greener grass on the other side of the pasture, but when we are together can not wait to get away from me. I was the biggest vice in his life, or so he put on, and now he is with someone else, but cannot stop thinking of me? That is hard to believe. Is it a lie?

Now I am no stranger to this, " I am with a girl but you are actually the love of my life" scenario, in fact I am all too familiar with it. In fact almost every guy that I have really wanted in my life has had this sort of rebound back to someone he previously went out with. I am cupid for those bastards. Jesus Christ, i have just had this realization that I am fucking cupid. So if anyone wants to find their true love just sleep with me and you will find them in no time. The question is where does that leave me? Is this my eventual fate?

I want to scream but I feel like when I do I choke on the realization that it is my fault. Is it wrong of me to want to find someone who can make me smile, because that is all I am doing. That is all I want. I don't want kids, marriage, the great fucking job, or anything unless I am happy. But when it comes down to it, I am afraid that my life is going to be full of James', guys that I think will make me happy, but in reality are the death of me. Thanks James, for fucking me over.

12:40. Everything went down. On Friday. No one heard a sound. I am falling down, in starlight.The sound of songs, now fading. This bed, these pills, they're painting. What will they say tomorrow? You know you can't be late. Wait downtown, and I'll be there. We don't need a story. No one needs a story like I do, with you. With you. I am slipping back. I wish it was tomorrow. Let it be tomorrow.

Waste. It is the only word suitable for what happened. Not that I am surprised, even though I put it on like I am. I knew it was over before it happened. It is like that song by the Cranberries, No Need to Argue. "I gave all I could but it left me so sore. And the thing that makes me mad, is the one thing that I had, I knew, I knew, I'd lose you. You'll always be special to me. And I remember all the thing we once shared. Watching TV, movies on the living room arm chair. But they say it will work out fine. Was it always dark times, cause I knew I would lose you. Will I forget in time, you said iI was on your mind. There is no need to argue anymore." I feel like I found someone I am somehow meant to be with. Of course there are inconsistencies with what we had to the 'dream' whatever that is, but now I am heart broken. He doesn't know how hurt I am. I was slightly disposable to him, or I assumed so. I tear up just thinking about it. What a waste.

I just had an eventful weekend. I never thought I would be a part of a group that needed the support of other people. Actively I am not a part of an such group, just figuratively. Which in a sense is even worse. I can never attribute to why I feel the need to do some of the extreme things I do. I always have had theories, such as loneliness, want, greediness, or even just straight depression. However, my own sister, through a conversion we had recently, explained her analysis of why I always acted out in a somewhat irrational way. She attributed my behavior to not feeling like I am enough. I realized this is my biggest fear in life. This is the very thing that has in turn stopped from completely things and in other forms has made me act out in a self destructive way, like binge drinking.
I have four older sisters and they, being so much older than I, seemingly set the stage for me not being as successful as they are. Ever since I was little, my older sisters would be in Calculus and such examples and I would be in elementary math, being that I was in elementary school, and if I was afraid that if I didn't completely succeed I would be seen as worthless, because they were in the higher math and I wasn't. Even though I couldn't help that. Isn't that a bit ridiculous. however this behavior not only escalated but it escalated at alarming rates. I am afraid how to handle this. I t is scary thinking about this, because the question ultimately is not whether or not this is my problem, it is how will I be comfortable with who I am. For so long I have been avoiding that very question, and now after the past week events, I am forced to stare at it head on. To be honest I am terrified. I almost just want to abandon it and drink some more, take some shots. I mean how can I even think about some thing so scary when I feel this hole in my being because I am not drunk. I would rather philosophize on acid and high than being completely sober and have to admit that I have to look at this alone, without any substance and without any help from anyone. How do you do that? What kind of courage does that take?

I am in Alfred visiting and I am sitting behind Eric while he is playing Call of Duty and it started me thinking, how much time do we spend playing these games and watching them, and why is it sooo worth it? It is almost like Second Life, the online computer game in which you can make a different life . You can be anyone you want to be. You can have affairs and courts are actually taking them seriously which is the stranger thing. I love the games because I like working to especially good at something. I even play Mafia Wars like a maniac, just to be the best. Which is kind of obscure since I should be applying that need to real life, like school. However I wonder what makes me not care, but then on the other hand care so much about something so useless? Isn't it weird how I work?

Shaaa la la la la la live for today annnddd don't worry about tommorrowww.

I read for a few hours today at Starry Nights and drank coffee like I was drinking water in the desert. The combination of the caffeine and the characters in my Ayn Rand book made me hyper and very smiley. Although it helps to have a great happy day when the day before was such shit. The day before the characters frustrated me to the point where I would snap at people. It is interesting how emotionally invested I get when I read novels like Rands'. I almost cried at Starry Nights today when Rearden deeply insulted the women that is his other half, telling her she would never be anything but a whore to him. Maybe it was cause it was out of the blue but I think it was because I feel like when a character does that, they are talking to me. In any case being so invested in a book is better than being high. The clarity of the world and of the importance if the problems you thought you had disintegrate like vapor. I left the cafe and the stars were out and instead of watching where I step through the uneven snowy sidewalks, I was looking at their grandness and the grandeur of the buildings that have been there forever but this clarity gave me a reminder of love I have for them. Not only do I appreciate everything better, but I have love for everything and everyone. I just want to kiss everyone in sight. I want to hug every stranger, books warm my heart and give me such a natural high, it is almost ridiculous. Which is why I will never be able to understand why people don't like books or to read.

Tomorrow I leave for Potsdam with Gerlinde and Sammy doos. I think the reason I love Gerlinde so much, or one of the many reason is that she will tell people what she thinks. I have an undying respect for people that do that. I hate when someone has a problem with another person and instead of carefully explaining to them what it is, they avoid the whole situation. However they don't forget it, they hold on to it and I do not have patience for those people. I am not saying I have that problem now, but it is something I have learned to be a virtue among my friends if they have it. It seems like such a waste of time to keep some huge agitation on your own shoulders. A waste of life and energy.

I am so excited for Jacks and Kell move in. :)

Old Bitch Warrior

Night Drive by all american is heading up the competition for my boarding playlist. I am so hung over right now. I feel like i want o puke up my stomach and intestines. New Years! It is so lucky that my sister is also my best friend. I love going out and in the middle of weaving through endless bar crowds, suddenly people part, just in time for you to drop your jaw and realize that a good friend of your that you never expected to see out that night is right in front of you. Of course that is when you both topple over after tripping on each other in a big drunken hug. Yikes. There is this moving night club in Praguecalled the Tramix and it is a train type street car with 3 bars and it just roams around with music blasting! Its like this bad ass shoulder radio. There is no better way to get pumped about going out and partying the night away. I wish we had somethign like that in Rochester.

I am home from school and I feel so mellow, and I hope this does not sound too ridiculous, but I don't have to worry about anything right now. Which feels insane. I don't have to pay for housing, food, school, no work to do. I can do whatever I want. It is amazing. I just wanna lounge and read Ayn Rand and do nothing with my time. Bar hopping at night and snowboarding and Starbucks during the day. this is what i would do if

I won the lottery. It could also be the fact that I don't have my phone right now... big surprise. However, the better side of this carelessness is that I can not be reached. It is less to worry about in a way, so I haven't completely decided if it is a good thing or not, I am going with not.

I feel kind of left though. It seems like everyone is leaving and it is not that I am lonely as much as disheveled. I like continuity when it comes to relationships and having people in and out of your life feels wrong. I mean when your friend comes to visit or your family member it is great, but when it is 5 of your closest friends and some other people running in and out, its disheartening. Maybe it is lately I keep meaning

well but when I try to fix things I make bad decisions. Very stupid decisions and in the end I am completely unreliable. I will wander off thinking it is an excellent idea and then I will be lost and wonder why everyone left me. Stupid decisions. I miss not doing anything and never feeling like this, but I am positive I always have, which makes my missing pointless and stupid. Stupid decisions.

Can you keep yourself from doing the same thing you promised you would never do, but at the same time you know your the same person? Maybe you haven't reached that point, the point when the person you are judging them is at. It is hard to admit that you are not as experienced as someone else, which is why an age is such an issue. I am not sure why, maybe it is because if you are not as old as someone else it is automatically assumed that you do not know as much as that person which makes you stupid in comparison? That's stupid in itself. This causes separation and is a part of our generations increasing selfishness, that we learned from the irresponsible nature of our parents decade. Stupid decisions.