8.11.09

So I just stepped in chocolate somehow, which melted all over my bare foot without my knowledge. I tracked it all around my kitchen, my hallway, and into my room until I sat down and saw a gooey brown substance smeared all over my foot. Now, my apartment also smells faintly of cat excrement from my roommate’s boyfriend’s cat that has been staying here, so when I looked down, chocolate wasn’t the first thing I thought of. Also, I haven’t eaten chocolate for a while. So there I am in that weird place where you have to decide how to handle the situation. I mean, I could put my nose to it and judge what it is from the smell… but then if it isn’t chocolate that’s really gross. It ended up being chocolate.

I also displayed some relatively evil behavior today. A friend told me that he wasn’t doing so well because a friend of his died about a month ago in a motorcycle accident. They had a memorial ride for him this past weekend and during it, one of his friends crashed his bike and died. Now, thank god this was told to me on facebook because I immediately started laughing. For one thing, that is just an insane story. Also, yesterday I was looking up beginner classes to learn how to ride a motorcycle. So I tell another friend about this story and as him if my response makes me evil. It does. But then he proceeds to say “Its like that Alanis Morisette song. ‘its like your friend diiiieeeinggg in your motorcycle wake’” which had me laughing most of the afternoon.

Today is about 3 weeks of smoking and about a week off meat. Changing your whole life is a slow process I think. Especially when its trying to better your life.

Hatred of the day: the word ‘Hearty’. Its disgusting and it really shouldn’t be used to describe food. It makes me gag.

Love of the day: the smell of the dirty t - shirt I accidentally stole from my ex. It smells exactly like him. Soooo good.

8/5/09

If new years solutions are supposed to be a way of starting over, with a new year, then shouldn’t we make them on our birthdays? Isn’t that when our new year starts?

Waiting for someone to call you is one of the most excruciating things. Especially when you know you’ve already messed something up… those first 15 minutes that they still haven’t called are absolutely brutal. And now its been 16. You cant call them seeing as you already harassed them last night about it… and maybe they haven’t called yet because they’re busy, something came up that’s preventing them from picking up their phone and pressing send. But then there’s the other possibility, that they just don’t want to call you, they just don’t want you. And how do you deal with that? Its certainly not easier than waiting for their call…

One last thought of the day: I am not creeped out by my unhealthy obsession with vampires. And no, I didn’t jump on that bandwagon when twilight came out (although I fucking LOVE everything twilight). I had a profile on a vampire forum way back in 2004. And even before that, I watched buffy the tv series religiously. I don’t care if its some weird sexual thing, along with my love of snakes. Who the fuck cares? Doesn’t everyone like sex anyway? Deal with it. I also am insanely fascinated by serial killers. Especially the really successful ones. Not so much the twisted ones that dressed up as clowns or whatever, but the ones who seemed really normal, like ted bundy. Those guys are fucking interesting. Don’t get me wrong, im not one of those twisted women that falls in love with fucked up guys on death row. I just find their psychology interesting. Sociopaths are just this weird exxageration of the darkest parts of humanity and I think that’s worth being interested in. I suppose vampires are just like serial killers of the fantasy world. Although im sure there are many people who would beg to differ, like all you freaks who think you ARE vampires. Get a life…. Or come and bite me and show me youre real. I wouldn’t mind being immortal.

8/4/09

I want a world that doesn’t exist. At least not for me. I want all my mistakes to not have been made. I want the people ive loved to love me and those that I didn’t love to not love me. Then again, I only want what I cant have. I only love who doesn’t love me. And this is why I will probably never be completely happy. Sure, I’m happy sometimes, fleeting moments in which im smiling and my heart makes that little aching feeling that tricks me into thinking this is it. But those moments are usually followed up by regret, or loss, or shame. Those feelings don’t usually lead anywhere good in the long run.

So what is it then? Why am I doomed to be self destructive? Why to I systematically ruin everything that starts out with me smiling? Well for one thing I already explained what that smile leads to. But other than that I don’t know. Sometimes I catch myself living my life through movies and tv shows. Its like the people in them are capable of feeling things and experiencing things I would never know unless they had been written in a script and filmed. The saddest part is that the movies and the tv shows probably show me happier things than anything I could ever experience on my own. Sure ive felt the love of someone that I loved. I mean from the random memories I let myself keep I remember feeling things I cant recreate for myself. Like when he would hold me under his arm and look down at me like I was some puzzle that he was trying to figure out and then kiss me. His kisses were so rare, especially the ones that he really meant. Maybe that’s what im holding out for, trying to get him to kiss me like he means it.

If the right song hits me, I can feel all full of hope, like theres nothing in the world I want more than just to be with him for the rest of my life. Make my life with him, how could I even imagine anything else? And the truth is that I cant. And I don’t want to. Even when I remember what it was really like in those past few months. Even when I look down at my thighs and remember how inferior I feel to all of my competition. But that’s just what I do. I set myself up to be crushed and dragged about in this fiery little pit that I call my life. I really don’t even see the point of living sometimes. Not that I would ever off myself. Suicide is so selfish and messy. But I just don’t have that survival instinct when it comes to having a broken heart for almost a year. It really has been a year since the I love yous got less frequent, when I ripped my phone into pieces, when everything got so bad I knew it wouldn’t get better but I stayed anyway. If only I were 20 again, that little skinny thing that had fun all the time, hated herself just as much, but hadn’t destroyed the love of her life.

So here I am. Writing like I said I should, and would. All of this time ive been spending alone lately, it only makes sense, might as well put my thoughts into some sort of concrete thing I can pull back out of my hard drive. At least this way I might remember something that’s happened to me. Ive forgotten so many things I cant even hate myself as much as I should!

So this is how it begins. I need a hobby, one that nobody in their right mind would pay attention to, and one that I don’t have to tell anybody. I don’t have to lie because theres nobody to lie to. I don’t have to censor because I don’t have to say who I am. Not that I would anyway. So here goes my open babble of my unwinding life. Maybe it will make me feel less crazy to get this shit out of my head for a minute, or maybe just more lonely because nobody will read it except for me. In the end do I really care? I cant live life without trying what pops into my head as a good idea.