And today is

Ah, life...

Its amzing how bad it can be and STILL have brutally obvious solutions. I sit around and feel physically sick after i make any sort of significant change in my life, and then after enough time, no matter how terrible a choice i had made, i can harden right back up. This morning i was so distraught i couldn't speak, and now i'm typing another typical blog post...

Ever wonder why the hell you do it? You know... care about things. Why?

I go to work.

Why?

to make money.

Why?

So i can pay back my dad and my brother.

Why?

Because if i don't, they'll bother me and make my life miserable

Why?

because they want thier money.

And after that?

I save money for a car

Why?

...

so i can perpetuate my pointless life all over the state instead of right here in this chair.



And school. well, i'm not going to be going there anymore. I can still get into bradley with a GED, so why bother? The effort is wasted and the stress is not needed. Besides, i need more time to work and make that money i mentioned earlier.


So...

Why?

I dunno. who does. do you? can you leave a comment and let me know why? And i don't ned any stereotypical, life is worth living because of blah blah blah crap, gimme a reason.



My art is dead
My love is dead
My spirit is dead
My motivation is dead
My ideals are dead
My purpose is dead

so why aren't i dead yet?


because i need a car.

and after that, i'll need an apartment

and shortly thereafter

i'll need a gravestone



What else... what else to say... hrmmm...

I think i'm going to have to get used to not having a female ompanion; nobody around here can A. put up with me, B. take enough interest in me, or C., manage to do both for any length of time.


I need a tattoo on my forehead:

LOST CAUSE - PLEASE
DO NOT FEED THE SICK YOUNG MAN
DO NOT JOIN PITY PARTY
DO NOT ENCOURAGE DISDAIN
DO NOT PASS GO
DO NOT COLLECT $200


It'd be alot for one foreheadal tattoo, but i'm sure some determined tattoo artist could make it fit and be visible from the edge of my 10'x10'x5' cage.

And trust me, one day there'll be a cage.


or a white room.

ok i'm done.




no, wait, i almost forgot:

FUCK


need the obscenity.

TEST.



(yes i'm still here, new post soon)

Ok, time for a good post.

Don't have a heart attack.

I got the doom 3 poster! woo! ANd i might have the display too, i just have to show up at the right time.


Uh.... i got a random AA on 1998. That was funny. Jen flipped out.

Uh... i make alot of money this week... then i give it to other people. Blah. I just need my $400 for the trip and then i'm set.

Uh... what else...


I guess nothing. Who knows, maybe i'll be artistic tonight...

doubtful.


...

fuck


sorry, i hadn't a single vulgar word in that. had to balance.

Lonliness and depression go hand in hand. They're like two halfs of the same clock, and each half serves its own unique purpose. On the one side, you have the time spent wallowing in self pity and darkness, and on the other side you have the time spent empty and alone.

Even with a million friends, even with a few close ones, alone still follows me. No one has what i need... or no one is capable of meeting my astronomical expecations. Maybe i demand too much. Maybe i just can't be helped, period.


So you're reading this and saying... "What? another post about how miserable he is? You've got to be kidding me! What ever happened to angry, entertaining stuff?"


Fuckoff, homeboy. This is my god damn blog and i'll post whatever the fuck i want. I want to feel sorry for myself and rant about poor, discontented shit? Then sobeit! I will sit here and type about my brilliantly fucked up state of mind until my hands start to bleed.


I have to be up at 5am every day this week for work. 5am.

fuck them.


the money i make is not mine, it all goes somewhere else.

fuck them.



I'm sick of the shit floating around here. its ridiculous. All sorts of pointless melodrama and just... just absolutely stupid blind people. Everyone needs some big shit to keep going, something stupid to shoot off at the mouth about. Everyone should get a nice blog and shit thier pants off in it like i do instead of blowing off outside in the real world where i have to hear it.

Granted, as of late i've been spewing forth my fountain of feces into the real world as well, but fuck, how much nothing can i take before someone is going to hear about it?


There is a difference between being alone and being lonely.


I'm alone.

How do i know? What is alone? Whats the difference?

Well, ask youself this... and i mean every god damn person who reads this...


Where the fuck have you been when i needed someone?



Do i have to ask people for help before i'll get it? Do i need a sign? A big, giant, neon fucking sign? Or am i just too far gone for your frame of expertise? Who the FUCK out there has ANYTHING they can FUCKING say to me that will make me feel ANY FUCKING BETTER THAN I DO RIGHT FUCKING NOW.


Angry at me yet? Mad? Pissed off? "I help joe plenty! I'm his friend, what the fuck is he talking about? That selfish bastard, he fucking thinks everyone is just going to spin around and bend over backwards to make his pathetic life better? Fuck him! He doesn't do shit for me and i'm not going to bust my ass doing shit for him. He creates his own god damn problems and he can fix his own fucking problems too. He's just too god damn lazy. Fuck him."




HEY ANYONE!!! WELCOME TO MY BLOG!!! WELCOME TO MY ANGRY SHIT LOADED POST! WELCOME TO BLAH DEE BLAH DEE BLAH FUCKING DOO!!!



Jesus christ...


fuck it all...


know what? Don't come back. don't read this shit anymore. Sure, i'll have some shit here that will entertain you from time to time, but don't fucking come here looking for me, i'm not here.

What you see here is not me. What you see here are the remains of a shell i wore until i posted. These posts are husks of the emotion i've felt all day. These posts mean you've missed your opportunity to see these things in me, and now i'm smearing them all over this blog. Once they're here, they're gone. I pack them away and i'm finished until i have to explode all over this fucking blog again. Tomorrow, you'll ask me if i'm ok, and i'll say absolutely. I found someone who helped me out, his name is Me, and he was so kind as to borrow all my problems for a few minutes so i could breathe.

So i could be peacefull for a time...


But he'll have to give them back soon.