twenty eight days later - you realised you've wasted a good 8$
so for the past two weeks, for all intents and purposes, I've been dead.
everything seemed to not make sense to me - and if you were to ask anyone who was around me : i didnt make sense.
but who cares for making sense anyway?
I'll tell you a couple of things I know for absolutely sure : Nothing is for absolutely sure. You may think that you've got a grasp on things or that you know whats going on or who someone is or what will happen next and so on and so forth and blah blah blah - this almost sounds like Im going to make a song to a really terrible background music and constantly remind you to wear sunscreen. I'll let you in on a little secret - you dont need sunscreen when you don't go outside. So my song would more likely be something along the lines of this :
" Stock up on caffinated soda so that you can stay up for prolonged periods of time playing games on your computer. Keep the blinds closed. Hate your siblings, they'll hate you. Listen to your parents only when you figure that they'll give you money. Dont work at a box factory. Smile sometimes. Dont forget to breathe. Remember to eat. Know when to give up. Ask for help when you need it. Give help when it is needed. Know who is respectable and who is dependable. When something is rotten, throw it away. Clean your room sometimes. Stop masturbating. You dont have to talk so much. Remember to breathe. Risk everything. "
see. I can see it already. Wait, didnt Baz Luhrman do that song? Fuck. I hate that man even more now. And if he didnt, I still hate him. I could give a good long winded spiel about things I hate. Boy do I hate a lot of things. I dont necissarily know why. Does anyone know where to go to get your head looked at? Im seriously coming to the conclusion that I need psychiatric drugs. No, not to make it to where I am more bareable to you people - but to where I am more bareable to myself. I find myself doing things that I dont want to do, and feeling things that there are no rational reason to feel. I find myself in constant struggle with not myself but my own self - ah, that wont make sense to you. Not " who I am " but rather getting " who I am " to do " what I want " - and to have " what I want " coincide with " what makes me happy. " Im guessing most people, ie: you, dont have these sorts of problems. And I'm guessing that is a determining factor as to what makes me so loopy. What makes me eccentric. What makes me such an asshole, and difficult to deal with on certain subjects and occasions.
What would you think, I ask of the board members. What if I did get on drugs, and the ever-misanthropic pessmistic ball-of-hate and eccentric behavior that not even myself can quite pin down becomes nothing more than Joe Average and I cut my hair and get a job and get a girlfriend and start. being. normal. ... happy. nice.
Do you think thats right? Do you think thats even possible?
Fuck I don't even know where to begin. I dont know who to go to, or how to get there. I have no help from my family because quite frankly mental disease or disorder " doesnt exist " with my family. Years of growing up with my father yelling at the television whenever someone on welfare complained or a court decision went with a murderer because he was " abused and raised incorrectly " have even desensitized me to such things. I also inherited a very strong sense of pride. I'd run myself into the ground before I'd admit defeat - and that I got from my father as well. My father is disabled because of the army and could get plenty of money from them had he only applied for assistance. But no. He is deaf and he is struggling on his own. He wont say " I need help " - he'll just deal with it.
Funny how time works.
Funny how the longer I find myself living the more I seem to be a clone of my father.
I've tried to stay away from the board for a long time now. As you can see this ... post is more like a journal entry than anything. Next I'll be writing encrypted poetry to bore and annoy the hell out of the whole lot of you. Ha ha ha. I actually, a bit ago, thought about shutting the slugs-board down. I hated each and every single one of you. I didnt want to bother with associating or knowing any of you anymore. Dont worry, the board is still here - and you're reading this. Maybe one day when you come to the board and it just. isnt. here anymore - you'll know why. Actually - this is costing me 25$ a month. So when push comes to shove, this might have to go.
Im going away now.
Here comes a poem.