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.