It's Ezzie bedtime!

And a quote from Danny as I got ready to crash out, that I just found funny.

Halloween cat says "Fuck the sun."

With regard to our new, nocturnal habits. I think he likes them. As do I.

G'nite internets.

Arrogance

People in their arrogance, irritate me.

So I went on a raid last night, and I was really, really pleased with how well it went. Now, don't get me wrong, I was one of the lowest level players on the raid, I'm level 73. Virtually everyone else was level 80, with a couple of 75's, and two other 73's. There were altogether 40 people. So figure thirty five level 80's, and two 75's, and three 73's. We went in to do a PvP style raid, to take out city bosses, and I had what amounted to my own level 80 priest targeted on me. He was healing a grip of other people, but he had me specifically targeted for heals, to keep me alive. Which was awesome, because, well, I was one of the smallest people there. And I knew it.

Now, I was and am rather pleased, because the fact that I walked out of that raid, after nailing four major city bosses, without dying *once* means two things for me. A: it means that I'm now big enough and reasonably skilled enough to keep up with higher level players, when I have that priest with me. And B: *YAY*, I got the achievement I went in for in the first place.

But I was talking about it with someone later, and he essentially mocked me, when I pointed out that I'm now big enough to run with them. Maybe mocking isn't the correct word. That isn't it. It was more that he claimed that while I had the level 80 priest with me, his time would have been better spent keeping the *other* level 80's alive, and I'm useless and not a worthwhile contributor to such a raid.

I disagree, and my personal opinion is that since I come in a pair with that particular level 80 priest, who would not otherwise *be* running in the raid in the first place, I am very much contributing. Because they always need a skilled enough healer, who *can* keep well-geared level 80's alive. The fact that he's there to keep *me* alive, doesn't make me a liability. It simply contributes a really good healer to the raid. I'm not a detriment to the party, because no one has to keep an eye on me, except him, and he's a massive bonus to the group, because he wouldn't *be there* without me.

And it pissed me off. I rarely go along on the raids, and have declined to run, because of the fact that I'm so much lower than everyone else, and didn't *want* to be a liability. I didn't want to accidentally pull aggro on bosses, or screw up someone's plans. Now that I'm big enough *not* to? And now that I have someone running tandem to heal with me? Who makes me no longer a liability at all? Pissed me off completely.

I am thoroughly sick of the entire attitude of him, and people like him, who imply that they are better than everyone else. They play better. I'm not completely geared out, and am not at max level in the game, and thus am worthless. It's just stupid, and that's why I didn't bother to join his guild in the first place. There's no *point* in joining a guild that has that attitude. And I knew it.

I did, finally, join a PvP guild. Because that's what I enjoy, the basic idea of. But the whole attitude of "you're not worthwhile" seriously pissed me off.

I played for years with people who told me that, and who ended up with their noses rubbed in it every time they finally pushed my buttons off enough to go toe-to-toe with me. Because I don't actually suck at the game. Any game. When I bother playing at such games, I play well, and with skill. Just because I don't play them at the pace every *man* expects, doesn't negate my skill level. It simply means I don't feel a need to sit in front of the machine 23 hours a day, with the other hour being to piss and smoke, and then grind out more levels, so I can prove how "cool" I am.

I already know how cool I am.

Go suck something, ya jerks.

ARGH - my gmail account

FYI, I can't log into my gmail account at the moment. I don't know why, and I'm using a secondary account whilst I wait for the nice folks at google to get back to me. They're resetting my passwords to fix things. Apologies to all and sundry if you're trying to get in touch with me.

Thanks.

--Edit--
10:55 p.m.
All is well, slight harm, slight foul. Apologies to those affected. Back to your regularly scheduled programming.

Christmas, Christmas time is here...

Yeah, Merry Christmas. Holidays are officially over today, thanks be to whatever deity you want to pray to.

So, I ate stuffed manicotti, and it was tasty. Put together a chicken casserole that I'll be baking up later this afternoon, when I wake up, which pleases me, and am giving some consideration to actually making a loaf of bread by hand, because I'm that desperate for actual bread instead of the store-bought fluff I've been forced to eat since I've been without a bread machine. Fortunately, this peasant will have a new machine next week, which will make me a happy bird indeed. I've gotten spoiled on having fresh bread at my fingertips, and have missed it badly.

I have *most* of my books ready to roll for January, with the exception of two, and I'll be picking those up next week as well, when I go to sell back my others. Grades are officially up and posted, and I did indeed pull down outstanding grades across the board. Please, hold your applause for the appropriate time, I can only handle so many accolades :P

Yes, I'm a smartass, sorry about that. But yeah, I'm kind of proud of how well I did, for the first semester of college. I was very scared, and I've proven to myself now, that I can do it, even when I'm terrified. Now it's simply a matter of decided what "it" is, that I want to be when I grow up.

I have some serious thoughts in mind, which I'll be discussing at length with my counselor, because now that I have actually proven it, I need to figure out where I want to go from here. (Cue theme song for...not sure what, but I'm sure I'll come up with some sort of conquering hero theme song).

I borrowed the Wii from Danny and Mona for a couple of weeks, and have decided that I most decidedly do enjoy the ever loving hell out of it, and will want to get one for myself. I like the aspect of not sitting on one's ass, while playing. I enjoy Wii Sports, it's great fun. Yay for playing tennis in the living room. w00t.

For the basic updates here: Ezzie and I are doing fine, we're just chillin' for the day. I'll be eating that casserole, and he'll be eating kitty treats, and we'll probably watch a movie, and be slackers together on the couch for the evening. Then I'll probably run Nexus, and get myself a Red Winter Hat, and call it a day. Overall, that's my plan at any rate, to have a nice quiet day. And I'm good with that.

So, Merry Christmas, Happy Yule, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays to anyone and everyone. Be happy, be healthy, be safe. Take care.

It's the end of the world as I know it...

It's the end of the world as I know it...and while I don't feel fine, I can't keep doing it anymore. Any of it. I'm by no means shutting down my blogs, or deleting my MySpace or Facebook, or any other such drastic measures, because that's akin to giving in to an addiction, and declaring I haven't the strength to fight such a thing, and the truth is, that I do have the strength. I've chosen not to.

I'm not choosing to keep embracing the pain anymore. And that pain is encompassing a lot of things. The things that hurt me are myriad, it isn't just one person, one source of injury. I don't need to keep looking at the things that hurt me. Happy Saturnalian indeed. Because the only person who truly got that reference was me, and I know it. There aren't a lot of people versed enough in the history to have caught it, that would also have seen the page. And I won't keep doing it to myself. There's no point. I won't keep looking at the page, or checking back to see what might or might not be anyplace else. I won't say that I no longer care, because that would be a flat-out lie, and I won't lie to myself. But will I beat my head against a wall anymore? No. And while the peasants will most likely gather round and rejoice, it won't do them any good, because while I made my choices to do with it, it makes no difference now to anyone except me. Had I been left alone, and not constantly smacked in the face about it, it might have been different. I didn't need to be chastised like a child because of my feelings.

And the people who can't figure out why it is that they're hurting me, it's also a lost cause. They all know why and what they're doing, but it's simply more convenient for them to ignore it, because to acknowledge what they do, would mean changing something, and it's easier for me to be the sounding board, for me to be the friend who they can pour their problems on, and be the person they can be hypocritical to, and it's always all right, as long as it's "only their problems" that make a difference, when it hurts me.

Except that it's not.

I was thinking about companionship, and what to do when it seems to have no point anymore to a positive friendship. When all it does is bring me down. Just to have friends? Is it really worth it for that? I'm beginning to think that, no, it's not. That being alone isn't so bad, in the long run.

Evidently, everyone views truth just a little bit differently. Variations on the same thing, all seen through a different scope. That's how police can tell when people are lying, at the scene of a crime. No two people ever tell a story exactly the same way, unless they have had time to corroborate their stories. Cop 101. Quantum physics tells us that reality is a series of possibilities existing side-by-side in any given moment, that it's our choices that create our version of reality.

In my reality, I'm tired of being hurt. Tired of having to explain my actions to everyone, over and over, and having things thrown into public arenas that should never be brought up there. Because that's how my "friends" seem to think is the best way to deal with me. And that tells me that at the end of the day, those aren't my friends. The other half of my "friends", operate under the assumption that my feelings are on a sliding scale basis, and are only bruiseable when it's someone else doing the injuring. Gods help the person who hurts me...conveniently excusing themselves if they punch me by their own words or actions. Sometimes intentionally, sometimes not, but the end result is the same. But no tolerance is extended for someone *else* who has ever hurt me, and I can be given no leeway for my actions if I want to wallow in self-pity.

I am not permitted such. Because for me to do such a thing means that I'm unavailable to handle the problems of all of my "friends", and that is inconvenient to them, across the board. They grow weary of me having difficulties of my own, that cut into their "me" time.

And truth be told, that's unfortunate, unfair, and unacceptable. Which means that things need to change. And it's the end of something, and I need to make new decisions on how things have to be for me, which is a very practical thing. I tried one approach, and that failed. Now, I'm going to try a new approach.

I obviously don't really need people around me that are sucking the life out of me, or who are going to hit me with a constant flow of things that I don't need to hear. There's nothing that I don't already know about the decisions I'm making, and sometimes I'm simply venting, and generally say that. I ask when I need advice, I'm very good about asking if my reasoning is flawed, or if I'm unsure about my motives. Because I know that sometimes I'm not as stable in my reasons as I can or should be, and so I ask. I have enough things hurting me, to not have my "friends" hurt me too.

Assaulting the stupid, during this, our holiday time:

First, acquire a Christmas tree (for extra scratch damage). Next, attach a menorah to the top, securely fastened, and with blessed candles inserted (for extra heavy bashing power). Third, stick a Festivus pole up the trunk of the Christmas tree (to serve as added support). Fourth, light the entire tree on fire to turn it into a Yule log (for good flame damage). And finally, add in mistletoe for that decorative holiday spirit, to encompass the idea of good cheer whilst bashing the ever-living-crap out of whatever moronic idiot richly deserves it.

Brought to you by: An Equal Opportunity Holiday Elf.

Conversations

Or perhaps it was a rant. I'm not even sure anymore. I was talking to Danny about it, while I was driving back from somewhere, a couple of days ago. And I asked him if I was being fair. Today is the 21st of December. So far, this year, I haven't had anything even vaguely be sunshine and roses for me. And I wanted to know why I didn't get to have things go my way, just a couple of times a year?

That seemed like a reasonable request to me. I wasn't looking to have everything handed to me on a silver platter. I wasn't looking for happiness and joy on a day to day basis, or have sunny days every freaking day. But a couple of times a year, I should get to be happy. That seemed fair to me.

I figured that every now and then, I should get to have things work out for *me*, instead of getting to see everyone else be happy, and everyone else have things go right-side-up, while I get more and more unhappy.

And I asked him why it was, that this year, *absolutely nothing* has just gone right, with sunshine for me. And being that there are less than two weeks left, before the end of the year? When is it my turn? How come I don't get to have one this year?

Starting with New Year's Eve last year, pretty much I've had one colossal failure after another, of misery or unhappiness in one capacity or another. And I don't quite understand why the karmic gods decided to beat me over the head this year.

And so I asked Danny if I was asking too much, or if perhaps this was just how it was meant to be. Everyone else gets a turn, except me? Everyone else gets to have someone love them. Everyone else gets to have it easy, at least once in a while, except for me.

And I know he didn't have any answers, and that it isn't even a fair question, but that's how it feels. Everybody else except me, got to have at least a couple of times this year, where things went right for them. That just naturally fell the right way, and things were good.

And while I had a couple of good days this year? They were days I had to *work* for. They weren't just "good things fell for me". I did really well for school, but I busted my ass for it. I managed to keep the apartment, but I jumped through hoops left and right to make it happen. There was no easy, no simple, no sunshine and roses solution. Every single step of it was 'hold your breath and hope like hell' kind of stuff. Right to the wire, it was impossible and nerve-wracking, and things I had to fight for.

*Nothing* went right for me, right from the beginning. And so I sit, looking at the calendar, and wondering...when do I get a turn? Why does everyone else except me get to have a turn to have a happy this year? What did I do so bad, that I had to have an entire year of unhappiness? And is that what I have to look forward to, next year?

Because I'm not sure I want to bother anymore, if next year is going to be a repeat of this one.

Thank you, and please drive through.

To the Gods, I beseech: Care for what I love, while I cannot.

I can't always take care of what I love. I sometimes am not given that choice. In those situations, all I'm left with is shooting my oft unanswered plea to whoever is listening, that they'll be watched over, and hoping for the best. That's all I can do, and it leaves me frustrated and powerless.

I am so tired, and so afraid, and have no way to rectify any of it. No way to know what's going on, and no way to figure anything out. So, instead I'll fill my days trying out cooking new recipes, reading various books, and playing silly video games, trying desperately to distract myself. Sometimes, it works. Most often, it doesn't.

It does, for short stretches of time. But not for all the empty hours. Such is life. Right now. I'm going to go and peel parsnips and carrots, to drop into the crockpot, to roast as winter vegetables, for something to do. Then I'll go back to researching tamale filling, because that will be my project for tomorrow, most likely.

I'm told it's an almost all-day project, just putting the assembly of them together. I'm thinking about renewing my Netflix subscription, simply because it will give me something to do, watching mindless films. School will start again in January, which is good, and will fill yet more time, and that will help. This stretch of time off is difficult, because I hadn't realized how much of my spare time school ate up, and gave me a way to focus. Hours upon hours of time, with nothing to do, and no goal is very difficult for me now.

I am having a very difficult time of a lot of things, handling them. I was much better focusing on people other than myself. I guess social work really was a good choice for a major. So would law be, if I do decide to go that route. Either one, would give me the ideal way to focus my energy completely on people other than me.

Coincidences, and stuff

It's waking up to a Monster, and plotting how best to decorate gingerbread men, and Gunbound, and giggling. It's Fettucine alfredo dishes, and kitteh kisses, and meows.

It's tasty Me'n'Eds pizza with Stewie, while we laugh and play Need for Speed, and make fun of each other. It's setting up Ubuntu on the linux box, and figuring out how to make it go, and discussing the mechanics of getting a switch to run both boxes from one monitor, until I have two.

And at the end of the day, it's a long hot shower, with my hair all clean and blown dry, and warm clean footie pajamas fresh out of the dryer. A big mug of hot cocoa, with freshly baked rolls, and iTunes playing softly in the background, with a blanket wrapped around me, and my Ezzie on my lap, while I play silly games, and slaughter big bad monsters until my eyes pop out of my head.

April 30, 2008

I hate you right now. I hate you so much that I can't even see straight. Every single solitary thing inside of me is either completely broken, or well on its way to getting there. There's a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my mind is just circling round and round with "you knew this was going to happen."

And I did. I did know. I knew I should have just fucking sent you away in the first place. Because I knew damned well that when it came right down to it, I don't matter to you. There will always be someone who can tell you "just leave, walk away from her", and you'll either do it, or you'll have to sit and make some heart-wrenching decision, and somewhere it'll be my fault that you gave them up for me.

And you know what? That you have to sit and contemplate it at all is killing me. Because there shouldn't be any thought for this. You have sworn to me for months that this wasn't even a fucking possibility. And when I told you you were wrong? You got all offended that I would accuse you of such a thing. You threw things like "You really have a low opinion of me, don't you" and such nonsense at me. You were so wounded that I would think such a thing of you. Because you would *never* do that to me! And here we are. You're royally pissed at me, again, because once again I was right, and you're doing precisely what I'd said would happen...and you hate that, because it means two things. You aren't who I thought you were. And that what you said was a lie to me. Again. All that wounded bullshit, where you tried to make me feel bad for doubting you, ended up with me being correct in the end.

Do you know how many people I've told to go piss off because of you? That I wasn't willing to listen to people's bullshit about you? And when people tried to get me to choose a "him or us" kind of choice, I very easily, without the moral debate or having to "think things over" told them to go fuck themselves, because I wasn't willing to give up someone I cared about and drop you. I chose to keep you in my life, and if they didn't like it, *they* were welcome to leave. I was quite willing to stop speaking to and seeing *them*, but not you.

And you know what? That included my mom, when she was being oh so disapproving. I told her if she didn't like my choices, she was welcome to simply not speak to me. I would speak with Dana and Mark, and my dad. But I wasn't willing to have my choice of friends dictated by someone else.

So your girlfriend is going to dictate who you can and can't see or be friends with, talk to and spend time with? That's fucking bullshit. And that you're willing to let her, after all your big talk about "no woman is going to tell me who I can be friends with." And that I was much too important and valuable a friend to you for you to simply throw away? I no longer believe you. Your words and your actions just don't match.

I'm sure that what you'll end up telling me in the end is that you've decided for yourself that she is simply so important to you that you'll do anything to keep her. But what that means in reality is that you've caved to a completely unreasonable demand, and that you lied to me. Because you made a promise to me, and I have been nothing to you. And you've proven to me that I was correct all along, and that I should have trusted my instincts and operated under the assumption that you would indeed vanish, because I didn't matter to you, just as I always believed.

The fact that you would sit and need to "think about what to do", instead of just telling her that you refuse to just abandon someone who you claim is a good and valuable and cared for friend, simply because she tells you to...that tells me a lot of things. None of them good.

And that you don't seem to realize that I have feelings, and you have once again completely disregarded them and not noticed that I'm broken and bleeding, and hurt beyond measure. You care that you hurt her. But you never for a second cared how badly what you said might have hurt me. You were simply pissed because I wouldn't sit down, shut up, and leave you be to make your decision. It didn't matter that I was hurt.

May 26, 2008

Wow. It's been twenty six days, and I never actually got around to writing another entry. I'm kind of surprised at myself.

I'm still angry. And as far as the last entry that I wrote, the one where I "predicted" he was going to ditch me? I was right. Because I have a habit of being right in such situations. He didn't give a damn, and did exactly what he was told to do by her.

He treated me like the neighborhood slut. Suck my cock, and don't tell anyone you're doing it. It's the best thing I've ever had done, and I love having it done, as long as no one knows. But as soon as someone finds out, it's over, and don't call me, I'll call you. Because I'm ashamed to be seen with you.

And he's gone. He hasn't called, emailed, gotten in touch in any way. And at the end of the day, possibly a baby. Still don't know. Although as I'm cramping and spotting now, that might not be. I don't know. I go in to have a good ultrasound done by a competent tech on Friday morning. And I honestly still don't know how I feel about the whole thing.

I know for damn sure that if I *am* pregnant, there are no circumstances at all in which I want him as a part of my life, if she's a part of his. At all. I'm not sure I want him in my life even if she's gone, but I know for certain I don't want him anywhere near me if she's in contact with him, in any way, for any reason. Not as a text on his phone, not as a random email wondering how he's doing. No phone calls, no cute little messages. Nothing, for any reason. I have been through enough, and I won't have it. Maybe that makes me a bitch, or a raving cunt.

I just don't care anymore. In the last six months, I have been through hell because of her. I have been treated like less than dirt, I have been cheated on, and left to pick up the pieces of his broken heart by her *after* I was cheated on, because he ended up suicidal. And I was kicked around and left broken. All because of her. Because every time she so much as sneezes in his general direction, he drops everything to do exactly what she tells him to do, because he wants her so fucking badly. And at this point? I won't have anything to do with him if she's in any way involved in his life. Essentially, what was done to me? Has to be done to her. And unlike her, I know him. I know he'll sneak around. He'll lie, and he'll squirm and he'll attempt to get back into some kind of contact with her, because he *loooves* her. And I don't give a damn. The very first time it happens, he'll never see me, or his baby again. Ever. Because I have had it. I have been broken and bleeding and destroyed completely too much.

There's nothing left. The only thing left for him now is because there's a possibility of a baby, I baby I still want, and I don't want that child left without a father the way Dana was. That would be my only reason alone for allowing him back near me. But if it would be as a package deal with his precious girlfriend, then it's a no-go for me. Because I won't be trying to deal with someone else pulling his strings, and the stress of him walking out on us. And I won't be dealing with the bullshit agan.

The love that I felt for him is gone now. It was shattered by a callous email that was unnecessarily cruel. Shattered by a lack of concern for a friend, by a friend. Shattered by lies and broken promises.

All that's left is the possibility of a child, one that I thought I wanted. I'm still not even sure about that. But I know that I won't punish his child for his father's sins. Neither will I tolerate being walked out on twice, because of his father's inability to make his own decisions. And I won't allow his father to do to a child what was done to me. I wouldn't allow Kevin the chance to do that to Dana, and I won't allow him the chance to do it to this baby.

And the empty feeling in the pit of my stomach gets less with each passing day, as I wake up and grow used to his absence. And the loneliness each night when I go to sleep also gets less. I sleep now, without him. And I dream about things other than the email that broke my heart.

This will pass.

June 28th, 2008

Maybe that's what it was. I loved everything about being with you, being tangled up in you. I felt overwhelmed, all the time, looking at you, being around you. I felt completed and safe and I wanted that feeling to stay. I didn't want to have to go back to the way it was, me being alone.

And so when you walked away, all I feel is empty, and it's making me so angry I can't see straight. And I keep going back and forth between anger and despair and wanting revenge.

And none of it is healthy for me, and I know it. Maybe that's what they mean by stages of grief? And perhaps that's what I'll have to go through. Because somewhere inside, I guess I still keep expecting for you to come back. And make it all be okay again. Which isn't a good thing, because I know you'll just do this to me again.

You'll come back and it won't be because you care about me, it will be because it's easy for you. Because I made things easy for you, and you can get laid, and I take care of you. And you'll stay, as long as I do what I'm supposed to do, and don't make any noises about what you did that was wrong, and mean, and don't make you uncomfortable. And you'll stay until something better catches your eye, and you feel "in love" again. And then the merry-go-round will start again.

And I'll be the one who gets hurt again. You'll never be able to look at me, and just say you love or want me. You're not strong enough for that. The person that you want to be, the person that you are? They aren't the same. The person who wants to be strong and loyal and honest, he isn't you. I thought he was, but he's not.

I wanted it badly. I really believed that in the end, you'd stand up and say that you cared enough about me, at least about our friendship, to tell them to leave us alone. But you can't. You'd rather walk away than deal with conflict when it comes to me. You'll let everyone in the world tell you how you feel about me, because it means you don't have to fight for me.

And you shouldn't feel bad about it. It's how it is for everyone with regard to me. Nobody has ever been willing to fight for me. Most of the time, not even me myself.

But I need to learn to fight for myself, and staying with a man who both can't and won't stand up for me, in any way? Has damaged me beyond any means I can express. And the stages of grief are harder than I remembered.

TV and movies give a distorted view of reality, damnit!

Yes, yes, they do! Stupid TV. Where, under the seven suns, do real people only have one half-full basket of laundry, at the end of the week? Hmmm? Because that's how it's portrayed on the freaking television shows. I know, I watched Friends!

So I'm in the process of doing laundry. And even though it's now just me doing laundry, so I can't really complain as much as I used to, because the sheer volume really has gone down considerably, there is by *no* means, a cute little half-full basket of laundry.

And I actually don't do the "change clothes twice a day because I work a full-time job, and then go home, and want to wear a different set of clothes to lounge around the house" thing. So, I ask my dear readers, where does this mock portrayal of the half-full basket of dirty clothes originate from?

These busy television people are certainly not running to the laundromat every day, to wash their dirty linens. So how do they pull this fantastical feat off?

Because, man, looking at my piles of freaking clothes, I want some of those ninja skills.

Dream Theater

Raise the Knife By Dream Theater

Have I thanked you for your time?
Or will your life go unrewarded
Again?
Never asking for a dime
You just gave all of yourself
Until I turned my back on you
My friend

The powers that be made you a martyr
Conspiracy led you to slaughter
I tried to control it but as soon as I showed it
I was shot down again

Once again outnumbered
Appreciation slumbered
You can ask yourself why
But that look in your eye
Doesn't pass the test
You've been laid to rest my friend
Again

Tortured artist bares his soul
Seems the pressure took its toll
Lived a life so punishing
Now he keeps the publishing

Spilling your guts out to a pad and pen
Communication to your silent friend

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
Raise the knife
Cut through

I remember once you were the quiet type
Content to sit and watch the motions of your life
With false sensitivity
You cut yourself open so people would adore you

They all bought into your contrived sincerity
And how you wore your heart and soul right on your sleeve
Laughing sarcastically
You turned your back on the people who adored you

Self-absorbed exhaustion
Self-esteem distortion
Self-infused extortion
Self-serving abortion

I'll take the blame for these things that I say
'Cause I had the heart and the will and the courage to stay
Every day
I won't walk away

Reading through all the digests you show me
I notice the way that you think you control me
Doubting my future, you don't even know me
But I never walked out on you

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
Raise the knife
Cut through

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
(I once knew)
There comes a time
Compromising my life
(Just won't do)
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
(To reach you)
I just can't fight
Raise the knife
And live my life
Without you

Raising the knife
To a picture of a life
There comes a time
Compromising my life
I cannot lie
I can't try anymore
I just can't fight
Raise the knife

**

Solitary Shell By Dream Theater

He seemed no different from the rest
Just a healthy normal boy
His mama always did her best
And he was daddy's pride and joy

He learned to walk and talk on time
But never cared much to be held
And steadily he would decline
Into his solitary shell

As a boy he was considered somewhat odd
Kept to himself most of the time
He would daydream in and out of his own world
But in every other way he was fine

He's a Monday morning lunatic
Disturbed from time to time
Lost within himself
In his solitary shell

A temporary catatonic
Madman on occasion
When will he break out
Of his solitary shell

He struggled to get through his day
He was helplessly behind
He poured himself onto the page
Writing for hours at a time

As a man he was a danger to himself
Fearful and sad most of the time
He was drifting in and out of sanity
But in every other way he was fine

He's a Monday morning lunatic
Disturbed from time to time
Lost within himself
In his solitary shell

A momentary maniac
With casual delusions
When will he be let out
Of his solitary shell


**

I Walk Beside You By Dream Theater

There's story in your eyes
I can see the hurt behind your smile
For every sign I recognize
Another one escapes me

Let me know what plagues your mind
Let me be the one to know you best
Be the one to hold you up
When you feel like you re sinking

Tell me once again
What's beneath the pain you're feeling
Don't abandon me
Or think you can't be saved

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Summon up your ghost from me
Rest your tired thoughts upon my hands
Step inside this sacred place
When all your dreams seem broken

Resonate inside this temple
Let me be the one who understands
Be the one to carry you
When you can walk no further

Tell me once again
What's below the surface bleeding
If you've lost your way,
I will take you there

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Ooo, where everything is wrong
Ooo, where hopelessness surrounds you
Ooo, the sun will rise again
The tide you swim against
Will carry you back home
So don't give up
Don't give in

I walk beside you
Wherever you are
Whatever it takes
No matter how far
Through all that may come
And all that may go
I walk beside you
I walk beside you

Conundrums

So this is essentially how the last three or so weeks have gone for me, in a nutshell. (holding steady) Gearing up for finals, and Thanksgiving week was approaching. My medications were also being tweaked with, which was unpleasant at best. (holding steady) Decided to change my mind, because it was exceedingly important to Sissy that I go to Bakersfield, for holiday crap, so I went, but had panic attacks, due to the change in medication increase, and my old meds going bonkers with the doseage situation. (holding steady) Got back into town, to discover that my apartment's been broken into, and I'm more than a little rattled, but handled what needed to be handled, and moved on with things. (holding steady) Dealing with a difficult professor who can't be reached and had to contact the Dean to help alleviate the situation. (holding steady) Coping with studying for finals, and all that entails. (holding steady) Medication tweaks are making me sick and over-exhausted, and still trying to function around that, and not crash in and out of depression. (holding steady) Massive uproar and fight with Jeremiah due to douchebagness, and resolution, because it made Sissy happy. (holding steady) Different set of fighting, without resolution this time with the Bakersfield crowd, and not sure where that'll end up. (holding steady) Pulled down finals, and grades are in, tagged high enough GPA to make honors, which I was proud of. (holding steady)

Through ALL OF THIS CRAP, I managed to keep my shit together. And it was a fair amount of not-blogged-about, I'm simply scanning through the highlights here, stuff. I actually have coped fairly well, and managed to keep myself together.

I'm not particularly holding it together now. Didn't take much, to knock me over, which is kind of sad, in retrospect. I shouldn't have been all that surprised, to find that when poked at by that particular stick, it would slide through like a hot knife through butter. I don't have a defense against it. I wasn't even looking for it, I was looking at something else entirely. And being caught completely off-guard simply made it hurt that much worse.

So now, I'm sitting here, alone, staring blankly at the wall about half the time, feeling like I've been punched. Because it fucking hurts. Because I *didn't* do anything wrong, and I still feel like I'm being punished, for what I've lost, and it fucking sucks. And I want to be angry. I want to sit and scream and be furious. And all I am is depressed, and lonely and hurt.

Facts are stubborn things; and whatever may be our wishes, our inclinations, or the dictates of our passion, they cannot alter the state of facts and evidence. -- John Adams


I really hate that. But it's true.

Apparently, absolutely anyone but me will do. You wanted to make sure I'm all the way broken?

Evidently, absolutely anyone else but me, will do. Thanks, if that was the point trying to be made, mission accomplished. You wanted to make sure I couldn't miss it? I got it. You wanted to make sure I was completely broken? Mission accomplished there too. It doesn't matter who, but you'll accept anyone else but me, as a friend, as a lover, as an acquaintance. I get it. I'm simply not worthwhile. I got it. You could have picked someone who wasn't quite so vile, or such a worthless piece of humanity though.

Adolf Hitler and Aryan Nation

There's been a fair amount in the news recently, about three-year-old Adolf Hitler Campbell, who just had a birthday. The grocery store ShopRite refused to put Happy Birthday Adolf Hitler on his cake, for, well, all the obvious reasons, and his idiotic parents are protesting long and loud about the unfairness of it all. Well, in my reading I stumbled upon this article in an interview with the parents of darling Adolf Hitler and his sister Aryan Nation, that covers a fair amount of in-depth ground.

I agree with the sentiments of the journalist who wrote it, and the psychologist who says that the parents are crazy. Those poor kids. I can't even imagine what's going to happen when those kids hit school age, and...just, ugh.

People really should require licenses to breed.

Trying this again, without the bloody kool-aid.

I've been intending, for several days, probably nearer to a week now, to put up a blog post about hypocrisy. I read some one's blog rant, and she was carrying on about being a good parent, and not using drugs, and education, among other rants. During the entire course of that post, the whole thing was misspelled atrociously. Not the generalized typos, but really truly horribly misspelled. And she pointed fingers at people and their parenting, and how they treat their children, without ever having had any of her own, it was just a big long piss-fest, essentially. And I rolled my eyes at it, and snarked something to the effect of "pot-kettle-black", and relegated it to the back of my mind.

Something spurned me to again, want to post on hypocrisy. I'm a target, a lot of the time, a very handy target, for anyone who wants to be pissed off at someone. And I allow that a fair amount of the time, because I make a good sounding board, and am usually willing to let things sit, without having a problem with it.

The end result of that being that I know a lot of what is going on in most of my acquaintances lives, at any given time, from all sides. Because everyone under the sun feels the need to have a sounding board, and I tend to keep my mouth shut, unless there's a really good reason *not* to. And this is common knowledge.

The trouble with that is, while everyone I know, knows and accepts this about me. And as a general rule, they're all very happy with this arrangement...*as it applies to other people*. Because I don't go letting out their secrets. I don't tell the entire world what's going through any one's head, and that's a good thing.

Larry told Angela, that Sally wants to bash in Larry's head, because he wants to buy a giraffe for Melanie for Valentine's day, instead of just going to have a picnic!

Or whatever. Because I don't particularly tell anyone anything, because why the hell would I? Unless it's something that's going to hurt someone else, something that effects more than just bruised feelings, I'll just sit and listen. Or unless I've been specifically asked to throw in my two cents to whatever happens to be going on. I listen, I give advice, I move on.

And that's fabulous. Yay. And everyone is good with that. Except that everyone also knows that if it's going to hurt people? I'm not going to sit quietly and allow that. And more often than not, everyone is good with that. *EXCEPT* when it applies *to them*. It suddenly stops being okay then.

Which makes it hypocritical. My fair play and set of rules are great, and everyone likes everybody else, and everyone wants to have me as a sounding board, and wants to be able to use me for advice, and the ability to vent about life...but only as my fair play rules don't apply to them?

No, I don't think so. Because I'm not a hypocrite. And I'm tired of getting slammed for being me, and doing what I do, because great big fucking sticks get shoved up asses, when I've done nothing more than what I always do, which is try to make sure no one ends up not hurt. Or at least to minimize damage when there's no way to avoid it.

Even when it was *my own fucking life*, I tried to minimize all the god damned damage possible, as Danny can well attest to. Because I don't like being a hypocrite, and I'm not a big fan of collateral damage when it comes to the people I care about.

But I am everlastingly sick of getting attacked for being me. I haven't changed my basic personality. I still am going to make the decisions I'm going to make. I didn't step across lines, and I didn't violate anyone. I didn't sit down and ponder how best I could fuck anyone over. I rarely bother doing such things, and I *never* bother doing that to someone I love.

Fuck, I didn't do that anyone I care about. And when they got hurt, and badly, it wasn't out of malice or spite. When someone was incredibly damaged, it wasn't because I was trying to hurt him. And in that particularly scenario, I got massively damaged as well, because I was *trying* to play fair. There was so much collateral damage in that fallout, I thought the whole damned sky had fallen in, and it wasn't just on me. But it wasn't, any of it, because I was trying to hurt *anyone*.

It was because my sense of fair play wouldn't allow for there to be that much hidden sneaking around, and miscommunication, and bullshit. I don't like being caught in the middle of everyone talks to me, and no one talks to the people they *should* be telling the truth to. That's stupid, it's pointless, and it's wrong.

And then deciding I'm public enemy number one, because I don't want to see anyone getting hurt, and blow the whistle? Is equally shitty, on everyone.

And I'm sick of it. Sick of being blamed for being the person who tells the truth, and gets caught in the shitstorm. I cannot understand for the life of me, why it is so difficult to communicate with people. I know why I personally have trouble communicating verbally, but that's a speech thing, not a communication thing. So I write my stuff down, and continue on.

But for the rest of you? What the fuck is your excuse?

New

I have a new entertainment center. And it's beautiful. Yep.

That's all. Thanks to Stew and Jeannie and Matt for moving it in for me. I love it!

How I used to be...

It's five o'clock in the morning. And no, it's not that I have risen early this morning, before my alarm, and thus am blogging because I woke up a bit early. I am writing this as I sit here, preparing to go and lie down, in the hope that perhaps I will be able to sleep. And I will, probably, once I take something to insure the sleep. And there will be nightmares, because there are almost always nightmares, filling my head, and my dreams, which is why I don't like to sleep anymore.

So it's five a.m., and I'm not just waking up, I'm still awake. Which happens more and more these days. The turbulent ricocheting thoughts inside of my mind that never give me peace, the way it used to be once before, when I couldn't get calm enough, to make the staccato beats in my head stop.

How I used to be. For a while, it stopped. There was peace inside my head and I slept, and I was calm, and things were okay. They weren't great. I wasn't dancing on clouds, and my life was not filled with sunshine or roses. It wasn't perfect. But I could sleep, and I was doing well enough, that things were...tolerable, at least.

And I miss that, honestly. Because this? This is somewhere approaching intolerable, sometimes. This frustration of intrusion inside of my head, inside of mind, where I cannot make it quiet, and I can't seem to make anything calm for myself. I want it back, the way I was. This internal turmoil that's become "me", I do not like it. I want it to cease, I want *me* back again. The stability and structure that I had, and that I'd adjusted to.

It's difficult to admit how easily I'd fallen into that structure, and taken it for granted. And it's difficult to cope, with the chaos that I can't seem to control. My obsessive compulsive disorder runs rampant, trying to make up for the lack of any kind of order, inside of me. Because there is no order inside of me, I'm trying to compensate by making things around me orderly, and that's failing too. Which only compounds the problem.

And I don't know how to fix any of it. And, before anyone bothers asking, yes I'm already getting help. What I can do, I have done. There's only so much that I can do.

So I attempt, at the urging of someone with credentials to back his suggestions, to distract myself. To chronicle my thoughts with some type of order. To journal what goes on inside my mind. I work through, on a day to day basis a great many things, and I attempt, as best I can, ways to handle all of the chaos inside of my mind. And when that fails, and it fails often, I take the next best out. And I medicate myself to sleep, when I can't get to sleep any other way.

And sometimes I even make it through a stretch of time, without raging nightmares, that make me wake up in a cold sweat, remembering things I would rather forget. Sometimes I can get through a normal sleep cycle, without crying, or simply not even bothering with attempting that sleep cycle at all, and just staying awake.

There are no easy answers, I know this. But I can't be blamed for wishing, as difficult as it is right now, for the simplicity that came from when there was even a vague semblance of happiness. When there was easy sleep, feeling safe and comfortable, and not questioning every single decision and thought process that went through my mind, and then questioning myself again.

To just wake up one morning, and be how I used to be...

Secret word of the week

The word of the week:

Wii

Indeed.

pain. finals. headaches.

Incoming weather either swing or rain, can't tell. Too many drugs in my systems to be accurate for prediction. Take that however you like.

Finals? Suck.

And I have a headache. Still.

And? I wish you didn't matter. Go 'way.

I am.

I am not who you think I am. I don't do what you think I do, and I don't think what you believe I think. And unless you man up, and actually ask me what's going on inside my head and my heart, and have the courage to face yourself, and me?

You'll never know. Do what you like. But don't think for a second that *I* am what prevents you from facing me.

Yes, I noticed

Yes, I see that it's gone. If that was the point, point taken.

Melancholy and mood swings

I have curtains now. My mom hung up the curtain rods for me, while she was here this week, and I now have curtains in the front room, and she taught me how to hang the rods, so I can put up the others in the bedrooms. I'll be hanging up the others shortly. I like them, and they make me smile when I look at them.

The increased dose on my meds is working, and it's making my moods more stable. I had to reverse the order on them, so I stop being awake all night, and asleep all day, but other than that, it's helping. Thank the gods, or I'd be even further over the edge than I currently am, and that's saying something for the few people who actually do come into contact with me.

If anyone actually views my Project Playlist arrangements, as promised, the choices are reflective of my moods, and those moods are melancholy, and I know it. There are reasons for that, and the holidays aren't particularly helping.

I have "My Immortal" playing right now, and I miss Kenny. I can't help but think of him first, whenever this plays. Kenny, laughing, and joking while we all played together. It makes me remember good times, with Brandon, with Danny, while we were all still happy. And then when he was gone, when everything seemed to kind of all go to shit.

And thinking of Kenny, and how long it's been, realistically, that he's been gone now, and I cry. And how wasted it was, and how much he was loved. Nothing will ever bring him back, and it's completely stupid. And that's enough of that, because all I am is angry at the loss of him.

Miss you Ssken. :( You were loved, you are remembered. You are *still* loved. By all of us.

But thinking of him, and that loss, makes me worry for others I know, and love, who have or had similar problems, and run those same risks when stress hits them. And I worry. And I am just as fucking powerless in their lives as I was in Kenny's, and all I can do is sit here, and wonder where they are now, and what they're doing, and it makes me quietly crazy, to think that it might be my fault, whatever might happen to them. And I'd never know, if something happened to them.

Kenny died, because of drugs he was using. I never realized in time, that he was using them again. And then he was gone, and I didn't save him. And he thought no one loved him enough. And I've always believed somehow we might have saved him, if we'd known, or if I could have helped more. Or *something*. And it eats at me, it always did.

I can't escape that, I've never been able to run away from it. So when I read Phil's blog, in July, I had an absolute panic attack, because it was like being hit in the stomach with a baseball bat, and watching someone else fall into that kind of pit. And even now, if he did something stupid, I still wouldn't know. Couldn't help. And it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference.

I hate the fucking holidays. It's been a pile of clusterfuck since the beginning of October. People dying left and right. Everyone is sick, or going broke. People in danger of losing their homes, or their jobs, or just one catastrophe or another. And things going wrong, and how much can anyone take, until they break?

And so at this point, I've gotten more and more quiet, and more and more withdrawn. I know it. Everyone has commented on it. I have no answers anymore. I have nothing productive to contribute. No good answer. I do what I'm supposed to do, to get through, one day at a time.

I gave up the fight. I did what was expected of me. I couldn't do anything else. But...now what?

As it was in the beginning, is now until the end...woman draws her life from man, and gives it back again...and there is love...