In times of trial, I often find myself with a great desire to escape or ignore the problems I face. Although, I know this is not the best course of action, I usually feel no need to fight this desire because in the past, I have had great success with this method. In many cases, I have ignored my problems and they have resolved themselves or someone else found a solution without me even seeking help. I know my luck in this area is bound to run out eventually, but I feel like I want to test it. I want to see just how lucky I can get by ignoring even life’s greatest challenges. It seems crazy, psychotic even. But I need to know. When my luck runs out, perhaps I will begin to regard my issues in a more attentive way but until then, we shall see.
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thoughts about everything and nothing
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After a long hiatus, I am back again. Quite a lot has happened in the months that I've been away. Things I never thought would happen to me but did anyway.
I am still working at McDonald's. But a lot has changed there too. A lot of our valuable and experienced crew have left and the place has quite frankly gone to hell. I have been trying to leave as well but haven't had any luck. I had one interview at another kitchen job but it went south pretty quickly. The interviewer asked me if I was autistic because he said I seemed like I might be. So I was worried about that for the rest of the interview. Needless to say, I didn't get the job.
Several months ago, I did a stupid thing and wound up in a bit of trouble with the authorities. It was an accident and not violent or anything but I won't go into details here for personal reasons. The stress and anxiety during this time was enough to cause me to fall into a depression worse than I've ever had before. I found myself contemplating suicide many times during the following weeks. I ended up being fined so rather than pay it off little by little and having it weighing on me for even longer, I sold my computer and paid it all off the next day. This is why I haven't been on the site for awhile. I don't like using phone browsers and that was all I've had until now.
A couple of months after all of that, I went to dinner with my cousin and his fiancee. She was treating her cousin to dinner for her birthday. Well I must have made quite the impression because we all went out again the next week and a few days after that, I had a girlfriend. We continued with these double date things for a few more weeks and then the trouble started when she told her dad about me and I was coming over to meet him. He instantly rejected me so I've been trying to find a way to change his mind about me for months now, to no avail. We are still together though, so I have successfully broken my record. She's a great girl and I'm truly happy when we're together, but it's just so hard dealing with her family's constant berating and rejection. Adding to that the fact that we hardly get to see each other because neither of us have our own vehicles and the aforementioned cousin is fighting with her too so that's not an option. It makes the relationship very difficult at times. But I am determined to make it work as long as she wants it to work.
So anyway, now I am still looking for another job, trying to keep a relationship together and still battling with my own self-criticism everyday. And none of it is going well. But at least I have a computer again so now I can focus on my true calling which is writing. And now I can type out a resume and actually try to make it sound good this time. Hopefully I can persuade myself to actually do these things instead of just saying that I'm going to do them. I am considering going to college somehow too. Or becoming a manager at McDonald's. I'm not sure what I want to do though. I'm never sure of anything really.
I am also considering leaving the country because of what it seems to be becoming.
As I lay on my couch, waiting for my paycheck to be deposited, I am left to wonder: how did my life get this way? A life where every simple task becomes a very expensive and elongated problem. A life where almost no one is willing to offer their assistance in matters where it is required. It seems like everyone I know has had some form of help from their families and/or friends. Be it, teaching them how to drive or helping them get their first job, whereas I have never received any such help from anyone. The most I got was some dishes and towels and a 'good luck' or two. But it's okay. I made it just fine for about a year until the bedbugs attacked. Now I am back to square one. My future hangs in limbo and I have no idea which way it will go. My bet is the wrong way but that's just me being pessimistic which should come as no surprise to those of you who have read any of my previous blogs.
Anyway, regardless of where I will be living next month, today I am purchasing a new cell phone because the one I have is a piece of absolute garbage. First of all, it doesn't even belong to me, it's built to be durable but the screen is cracked, since they focused on hardware when building it, the software is crap, Android 4.1 so it can't run Pokémon Go (which I've been waiting for and longing to play since I heard it was being developed), and the contract expires in a couple days with the option to upgrade but I am choosing not to because I don't like contract phones, they are way too overpriced. So I am buying a cheap-ish phone from Amazon as soon as the money hits my bank account. I am hoping and wishing that the phone arrives before Sunday (or even ships at all since the last time I tried this, the phone never shipped).
I've been a Pokémon fan since I was about 6 years old and I used to pray to God to make Pokémon real and well, this augmented reality smartphone game is probably the closest I'm ever going to get to that prayer being answered. At least until the virtual reality version. So to have it surprisingly released when I was not prepared was not cool. And now I've had to listen to almost all of my coworkers talk about it, I've had to read about it virtually everywhere on the internet and it seems I'm the only person in the country who really wants to play it but can't. Thousands of people who thought Pokémon was childish and stupid a month ago are playing it and loving every minute of it, even if they don't know what a Chansey is. Well I know all 151 Pokémon in the game and all 570+ of the rest of them. To say I'm a bit jealous is an understatement.
So, I am disregarding bills and even food to buy a phone that is up to par with my standards and I don't give a flying Rattata's ass what anyone thinks about it.
About a month ago, I was being tortured by these tiny annoying insects know simply as bedbugs. A creature I did not know actually existed before this. Well, I am here to tell you that they do exist; they are very, very real and composed entirely of evil.
These little fu--sorry, language filter... these bassturds (really, language filter?) are vampires. Except for the fact that you can choose not to invite a vampire into your home. Bedbugs will get in any way possible. They are tiny so you never really notice them until they're sucking out your life's blood every day. My little friends probably came from a used mattress that my roommate acquired. Although it's impossible to know because he didn't have symptoms like I did. He did get rid of the mattress for some reason. Then he moved out and decided not to take the bed, leaving it in my possession. I had been sleeping on a couch for the past few months so I was happy to finally have a bed. He knew about the bugs, I knew about the bugs. I figured if he can handle it, so can I. So whoopie! I'm sleeping on a bed tonight! So bedtime comes. I grab my blanket and pillow and jump into bed. I get all snuggly and warm and withing minutes, I am asleep.
An hour or two passes and I wake up, itching in several spots, tossing and turning. But every time I got comfortable, a new itch would present itself. So after a few minutes of this, I gave up and got out of the bed. I flipped on the light and saw nothing. But I knew exactly what it was. So driven by a madness, I take off my bedding and lift up the mattress trying to just see one of the a--holes and know that I wasn't just insane. Well, I found one, killed it and came to terms with the fact that I wasn't going to be sleeping tonight.
My friend who was staying over was sleeping on my couch so I went into my closet, searching all of my boxes of stuff that I never unpacked; looking for signs of bugs but I found nothing and got sidetracked looking at things, reveling in nostalgia. Finally my friend woke up and left. So this is where I screwed up. I grabbed my blanket and pillows off the bed and headed to my couch, where I finally got some sleep. Unknowingly bringing some of the s--tfu-k-rs with me.
The next day, I decide to find out how bad the problem really is so I grab a screwdriver and a knife (to kill them) and head into the bedroom. I lift up the mattress and inspect every side of it, lifting up the little corner flap things and killing every bug I see. There are about ten all around the mattress but by now I'm sweating with nervousness and because it's kind of hot in the room. So I get to the box spring which is standing on its side by the wall. I start lifting up the fabric from the wood and killing bugs. There is one or two for every inch along the edge of the box spring and some on the metal frame. At this point, I say f--- this and decide that it is not a job I can do alone.
So I resign myself to sleeping on the couch and for the next few days I am keeping an eye out for my apartment manager to tell her about the problem but she's never around. And by this time, I can't even sleep on the couch because I had brought them in there. Even after killing 12 or so of the f93$%rs in the couch and drowning their hidey hole in alcohol, they kept coming back. So I had been sleeping on the floor in the kitchen, washed and dried my bedding and hadn't been bothered at night for a few days. During the day, they would still bite me as I sat on the couch watching TV or whatever. But it wasn't so bad during the day because I wasn't trying to sleep and I found if I moved enough, they would leave me alone.
So finally I get a chance to talk to my managers and they understand how despicable the bugs are so one of them is all over the problem from the beginning. The other one kind of stays out of the whole mess, she is just there to collect rent. Anyway, the other one comes in the apartment to survey the situation and I tell her everything. She says she will contact their exterminator and get it taken care of asap. Good, right? Nope, because she comes back and tells me that she spoke with the landlords and I am going to have to pay for everything and also have to get rid of the bed and couch before they will even start. If I don't, they will evict me. Okay, I will do everything I can. She also says I will have to bag all of my clothes, take them to an off-site laundromat and put everything in a dryer for 45 minutes or so, then place everything in new sealed bags. I was completely willing to cooperate, even after she switched exterminators the next day and said they would create a payment plan for me, just add 20 bucks to rent every week. I was fine with this, I was excited to get the problem taken care of. But I was having problems finding someone with a truck who would haul the furniture for me. I finally found someone who was coming the next day.
The next day, I started on the bagging things when the manager came to my door and said they decided to just kick me out. Said I had five days to vacate because I "let" the problem go on too long. So then, I was very angry. I cranked up some Cradle of Filth (a metal band that I listen to when I'm feeling angry and want to annoy the neighbors) and started packing everything into boxes. I texted the truck person and cancelled that, then called my cousin who I lived with before, told her that I got kicked out and I have nowhere else to go so I'm moving back in. So, I moved out and left the bed, the couch and a bunch of junk that my roommates left and other junk that I didn't want.
Since moving out, I've seen and killed one bedbug and haven't felt or seen any since. So I'm hoping that problem is done and over because now I have a new and bigger problem to worry about. Anyway, so the lesson here is if you think you may have bedbugs, find out for sure and then get rid of the f----ers. It's not easy and it will probably cost you a lot of money, unless your landlords aren't douchebags. But it will save you from going insane and sleeping on kitchen floors.
Okay, first of all: Yes, this is another of the same type of blog but I really liked the writing of this one so I wanted to post it. It's a bit more light hearted and less complainy, more motivational or something I don't know. Also 1000 words is really not all that much. I think I am going to make that my daily goal.
If I could change anything about my life, I would change everything. Oh to once again experience the joys of simply being. Of knowing what I want to do and then doing it. To be free from the constraints of adulthood and the expectations of a flawed society. If I could go back in time, I’m afraid I would never stop. I would just keep going back, righting wrongs, correcting all of the mistakes I’ve made, all of the wrong decisions until my right decisions cause the later decisions to never have happened. I sometimes think if I had just done or said this one thing differently, the rest of my life could be completely changed. I could be married with children in another timeline. I could be alone and happy in another. And in yet another timeline, I could be dead.
But still, I think perhaps the timeline I have made for myself is most likely the worst one and most definitely the only one. Because I don’t think time travel will ever be a possibility. It’s just too complicated and more akin to magic than science. Even if someone did discover the secret and invent a fully functional time machine, why, I would never get to use it. ME, a lower class and by then probably elderly man? Ha! They would laugh right in my holographic face. I guess there is naught for me to do but accept the fate I’ve been given. Or maybe attempt to change it and fail miserably.
I do try to change it sometimes. Just recently I sent an email to a girl who I let slip away without revealing to her my affections. I hope she gets it before it’s too late. And maybe that’s all she needed from me to know that I returned her feelings. Perhaps she’ll break up with that boyfriend of hers and come running to me and jump in my arms like in all the fairy tale movies and romantic comedy novels. One can only dream. I still think about her. It’s been nearly two months now and still I can’t get her out of my mind. Not that I’m actually trying. I like having her in there. It’s comforting in a world that is very uncomfortable to me.
Everything about my life upsets me now. From work to “home”, even the things I used to enjoy, like reading and watching television. It’s all a chore, it’s all necessary. It’s all things I have to do and not what I want to do. It’s infuriating. And I think it’s starting to show. I am angry a lot lately. It doesn’t take much to just completely p*** me off. Then I’m slamming things around, spouting obscenities. Co-workers go silent. Probably simultaneously thinking “Whoa, he can talk!” and “Holy cow, he is maaaaad.” Then I realize what I’m doing and I get all embarrassed and nervous and that p***es me off more. And then when work is over I get to go home. Free and comfortable, right? WRONG.
Home, in some ways is worse than work. All because of a certain little pain. This pain is something I unfortunately have to live with strictly for financial reasons, you understand. The pain lives with me because of a symbiotic relationship with my cousin and best friend. So it’s kind of weird for me. How can something I loathe so passionately be that close to someone who means so much to me? It baffles me to no end. The worst part is, he loves this pain. I can not understand how. Probably because it’s the first one that ever loved him. But hey, whatever. I’m not about to try and break up a relationship, especially when it’s my best friend. Anyway, this pain of his, has invaded my space and transformed my entire living area into a den of unfamiliarity. Also, its items have completely taken over all of the space on the shelves and cabinets, to the point where there is next to no space for my items. It rearranges things almost compulsively to the point where I never know for sure where anything is. It cooks sometimes but when it does, it cooks some authentic stuff from its homeland which I’ve come to find out, is basically all the same, just prepared differently. It gets annoying. And on top of all that, the thing pretends I am not even here. It never speaks to me, even when I try to be friendly and greet it, make a joke or something, it doesn’t even acknowledge my presence. So I have decided to return the favor and treat it like it treats me.
Hopefully soon, and I mean in the next couple of months soon, I will have a new job, some objects paid off and finally be able to afford to move out of this pit of hell, I have somehow ended up in. Then, I bet my entire demeanor and personality will change for the better. And If I can make a habit out of this writing thing and get in shape. Maybe by the time, all of that happens, that girl will check that message and maybe her eyes will light up when she sees my name. Maybe she’ll reply and agree to meet up and talk. Maybe I will be able to tell her how I feel. Maybe she will feel the same, maybe she will lose the guy she’s with somehow. And maybe, just maybe she’ll be with me. And perhaps that is how the rest of my life will go. I will have a career and a wonderful woman, enough money to support a family and maybe just maybe I will be happy.
All I have to do is not just think about this. Not just say it out loud, not just write it down or type it out. I need to actually go out and do it. And it starts tomorrow. Tomorrow, I say!
Well, I figure it's about time for another one of these. I can't bloody sleep anyway so here goes.
Things are pretty much the same as they were in the last couple of blog entries. I have developed the ability to speak more comfortably to people although still not quite at the level I wish to achieve. Same job, just less friends now. Some have left for bigger and better things, some have been fired. I'm working on making more friends; going is slow but it is going.
I am glad to say, I have rediscovered the joys of writing now that I have a good keyboard attached to a pretty decent laptop. Now I just need to rediscover the joys of privacy. That might happen if I can ever afford to move out of the apartment I'm sharing with my cousin and his fiance. Money is not falling off of trees at the moment so that might take a while.
I still have many problems, I still generally hate myself but I am trying to improve, for real this time. I've begun exercising and eating less and more nutritiously. I have random moments of what is probably depression but I don't want to jump to conclusions without being diagnosed by a professional. But they usually don't last very long. I am trying to just roll with the punches and look on the bright side of things but it is hard sometimes.
Sleep, I believe, is my only escape from this world of torment. But lately sleep has not been a good enough refuge for me. I haven't been getting enough hours of sleep and as a result do not remember my dreams and it seems as though I haven't slept at all most nights.
You know how people talk about "the one that got away"? Well, I finally know exactly what they mean. There was a girl at work. A beautiful, intelligent, amazing girl. But I waited too long to tell her how I felt. And now, I will probably never see her again. It still hurts when I think about her. And I still think about her all the time. I just hope she's okay out there. For her sake, I hope she doesn't feel what I feel for her because I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.
I know I need to move on. I know I need to move. I know I need to get a better job. I know I need to get a more positive attitude. I know all of these things and yet, I don't feel the urgency to do them. They don't seem necessary to me at this time. But someday and probably someday soon, I will wish I had taken care of these things sooner. But that's a thought for another day.
Before you read this, understand I am not looking for pity or doctor recommendations. I just needed to get some thoughts out. Maybe some advice from someone who has been through this type of thing. I apologize in advance.
Lately, I've been feeling depressed. By lately, I mean for a few years now. It has gotten to the point where I want to see a therapist or something to find out if I really have depression or I'm just like everyone else at my age. But then I remember that I don't have much spending money and that doesn't help my feelings.
As corny as it may sound, it really feels like the world is out to get me. Every thing I do, every plan I make, they all get screwed up somehow. And it's not just complicated things like moving, even trivial things like doing laundry become overly complicated. It's frustrating and I'm growing exhausted from having to deal with all of this constant conflict. Just once, I want something to be easy. I want to move out of this stupid apartment so I can actually use my money again. I want to go apply for a job somewhere else because I'm sick of McDonald's. I want to finally learn how to drive. I want to get a haircut without waiting for an hour. Some of these can be chalked up to laziness and the fear of change or actually trying to talk to people, but one of the reasons I am reluctant to attempt them is because I know somehow, someway every one of these things I want will not happen. At least not how or when I want them to.
It seems like everyone else just knows exactly what to do, who to talk to about this stuff and how to do it. It seems like they all have connections in every aspect of life and they can actually afford vehicles and college, and they somehow keep a job while going to school, their mom gives them free haircuts and they learned how to drive before they graduated high school, got their first car on their sixteenth birthday because they were lucky and had parents who could afford it. They don't have the fear or the anxiety that I do. And their plans always work out. They know exactly what they want and exactly how to get it so they go out and do it.
But my life decided to take an entirely different path. The one where all the bullies hang out but it's your only way home so you have to pass them every day, hoping that they won't see you and if they do, they will just ignore you. But they never do. No, they get there early so they can sit there and wait for you to come by. Then when they finally see you, they let you walk past them, staring at you all the while. And when you think you're in the clear and everything's going to be okay, the bullies attack. They punch you and kick you and take all your money, your pride, your dignity, your hopes and dreams, they take it all and they divide the spoils amongst themselves and the things they don't want, they just burn. So you get up, dust yourself off and hobble home where you can sit and think about how your life is so screwed up that the only way you can even release your true feelings is by blogging to anonymous strangers on the internet.
I need change. I want change but I don't want to be the one to make it happen. Because I don't know how. I don't know anything. But I do know that this life is killing me, and if it wasn't for my little brother, I would probably not be writing this right now. I do have hope that things will get better. But everything I've ever hoped for has disappointed me either because it never happened or it wasn't as good as I thought it would be.
As far as writing goes, I don't even know if I want to keep trying anymore. When I think about all the writers I know, they all started fairly young, wrote like crazy for years. They never took five month breaks in between paragraphs. Not because or writer's block but because you just don't want to write anymore. It feels like an impossible dream to me. And because I dared to dream, I know it will never come true. Because my dreams never do.
Life is a tumultuous series of seemingly random occurences. Or at least, in my experience it is. Most of the time absolutely nothing interesting at all happens but every once in a while, an event so completely unexpected happens and it disrupts the rut I have buried myself in. One such event happened to me about six months ago. I got a job. Ever since then, it seems I have done nothing but work. I still watch a lot of TV but since I have very limited channels now and no DVR (due to the ridiculous apartment policy) I have to watch things as they air or sometimes not at all. This is my life now. Work, television, sleep. It's all I do. Sometimes skipping one or the other. I've called in sick once because I needed a break, it was pouring down rain, I was only scheduled for four hours that day and I was actually feeling a bit sick. I immediately regretted it because I need the money. My cousin and I are moving again because his roomate is getting married and he wouldn't be able to afford a new place on his own. My roomate should be fine alone since he gets paid more than me. Although it's hard to notice sometimes.
Working at McDonald's has been interesting to say the least. It's neat to see what goes on behind the scenes in a fast food restaurant. Some of it I wish I hadn't seen. It's not as bad as people say, if food falls on the floor, we throw it away. Sometimes I feel like the employees and even the managers are a little too laid back though. People can get away with a lot is what I'm saying. And when the bosses drop by, everyone steps up their game and starts strictly following guidelines again. It can be a little confusing when you're told how to do something and then someone else comes in and tells you to do it a different way.
In these past six months, I've learned that I don't handle stress well. I think too hard about everything, I worry too much and I don't know how to release stress effectively. My hair is already turning gray and falling out and I'm only 22. I'm not sure if that's normal but I'm pretty sure it isn't. My legs are always tired, I cough way too much for someone who isn't sick and most nights, I don't get a lot of sleep. I've been thinking more and more about leaving and taking a bus somewhere. Getting on a plane and never looking back. But when I think about leaving my family behind, I realize I can't do it. I care about them too much to just leave them. My brother has saved my life more times than I can count and he doesn't even know it. I think my outlook on things will change when I leave Mickey D's and go work at Walmart. More hours, higher pay, less stressful. I think I'll be just fine assuming I can even get hired.
The only downside to leaving McDonald's I can think of is a girl I've got my eye on. We've just recently started talking but she's been working since before I got hired. Now you must understand that I don't talk to anyone that doesn't ask me a question. If I don't have to say anything, I don't. But with her, I just feel like I need to talk to her. And the more we talk, the more I learn about her and the more I learn about her, the more I want to know and the more I know, the more I like her. It's been a long time since this has happened to me and it's going to suck when I find out that she's got her eye on someone else (which a recent conversation has led me to believe). But that's not going to make me stop talking to her. Even if she does end up with someone else, at least I will have a great new friend. That's what I keep telling myself anyway. The truth is it will probably kill me and what little self esteem I have and I will fall into a chasm of despair and Netflix.
I have begun to look at a writing career more seriously, even going so far as to think about taking college classes. The motivation being that I hate working and I want more time to write so I can eventually accidenally write something people like and become a best-selling author and never have to work again. The way I see it, if I write a few successful novels or maybe a young adult series, I can sell the movie, tv and/or distribution rights. Then if the films or shows become hugely popular, I'll have it made. I can sit at home or go out and enjoy the world, as long as I write a couple hours per day, enough to meet contractual obligations and all that. That's the kind of life I want. And I won't stop until I get it.
Hello everyone, it has been a while, hasn't it? I wish I could say I've been doing something productive during all that time but I have not. I've been focusing all of my time on working and not working. And until recently, I did not have a comfortable means in which to write but now I do so I might be writing some more in the coming weeks.
Let's see...job's going good. Some days are better than others. I've had pretty long hours since I started because we were short staffed and the minimum wage increased a little right before I started working so I've been making some decent paychecks. That's all about to change though because they are hiring a lot of people again. So shorter hours but less money for me in the future. I've been under a lot of stress lately because of work and trying to figure out how I'm going to go to college and still have time to write books. I don't want to work at McDonald's forever so I have to start pursuing some other careers and unfortunately that involves college. Also there are a few people at work whose existences I do not enjoy. And the people whose existences I do enjoy quite a lot often work at different times than me so I never see them. Then I get to my apartment after a crappy day at work and find there is more work to be done. Then I have to watch four different TV shows each day and by the time I'm done with all of that, I have no time for anything else but sleeping.
There are tons of things I could complain about but no one wants to listen to that so I will skip to the positive things.
...hmm, I'm sure there's something...come on....gah! Why can't I think of anything? You know what, I'll get back to you on this whenever I can.
Thursday 8, 2015. This is the day I start my first official job. After four and a half years of dealing with an illness and watching all of my friends and family move on with their own lives leaving me behind, I finally have a job. It's not a very fancy job and I won't be making much money but the way I see it, it's a start. It's a hell of a lot better than nothing and I'm excited, nervous and scared to death.
I am determined to do my absolute best however and that will require some big changes to my personality. Such as my inability to speak clearly and loud enough for people to understand what I'm saying. This will probably be my biggest problem since there are multiple people there; coworkers, managers and most of all, customers who will expect to be able to understand what I'm saying. So I've devised a simple solution to this conundrum. All I have to do is create an alternate personality who can talk like a normal person while I'm working and once I'm off work, revert to my real personality. The only problem is, I don't know how to do this. If it's even possible to do without some kind of psychological trauma...
Maybe I'll be able to just adapt my original personality to fit in with societal standards, that would probably be much easier. I'll give it a shot.
Meanwhile, I have plenty of other problems still to complain about in later blogs so look backward to that.
Good mornoonightvening, everyone. I recently posted a status update which reads like this: "I'm leaving for a while soon, so what should my last blog be about?" Today, I would like to address some very important topics that people suggested in the comments. Now without further ado, the first topic:
Oxo1 suggested the topic, "Why you're leaving us." Well it's really very simple, Oxo1. You see, I am moving away to a land far far away (about 16 miles (25.7 km)) from the one I'm currently in. That's not a very good reason, you might say. But that's because I'm not finished explaining. You see, I have been borrowing a computer from my cousin who lives with me and when I move, I can not take the aforementioned computer, leaving me without a computer of my own. Just buy your own computer then, you might say, but that's because I am still not finished explaining (please stop interrupting). The reason I cannot purchase my own computer is because I am still unemployed. I have tried to get a job but things keep getting in my way, like stupid interview questions, but this time it is Christmas. You see, in my part of the world, people will get temporary jobs during the holidays so they can buy their family presents and then quit as soon as the holidays are over. That's stupid, you might say and you would be right but please for the love of all that is holy, STOP INTERRUPTING ME! *ahem*.... Now, once the year changes to 2015, I will resume my job hunt and hopefully promptly be hired and eventually buy a computer, then I will make my triumphant return to Unexplained Mysteries.
acute asked me to talk about "Teak vs rosewood." Now, I must admit, this was a topic I was not familiar with so I did some research, learned it was not a court case and my amateur opinion is that the better wood is dependant on the intended use and the aesthetic preferences of the consumer. Teak has more benefits it seems due to it's resistance of termites, mold and fungi; it's high oil content and tensile strength however it is not quickly renewable as the best teak wood must be around fifty years of age. Also it is difficult to work with. Some might even be put off by it's yellowish-brown color, preferring instead the color of a nice rosewood. Rosewood has most of the same attributes as teak, excepting the resistance to pests and mold, however it is long lasting and looks better in my opinion. So if you're looking for something outdoors and extremely durable, teak is better but if you want something that looks better indoors and strong, I would suggest rosewood.
quiXilver proposed the topic "free will vs responsive conditioning..." This is an interesting suggestion to me. I've never given it much thought although my first instint would be to say free will is definitely the better of the two. But what if the subject in question is a pet? Many people want their pets to be able to obey orders and commands given to them, especially owners of dogs and fish. Responsive conditioning is an excellent way of communicating with animals. Such as ringing a bell when the dog is being fed. The dog will learn that the ringing bell is indicative of its food bowl being refilled. However I find conditioned responses to be unfair to humans. Many phobias stem from traumatic events that trigger conditioned responses in the brain, such as the fear of heights. If someone was pushed out an airplane without a parachute, that person may suffer from a fear of heights for the rest of their life. Now without that conditioned response, that person could become a skydiver or a pilot and their phobia stripped all of their dreams away from them. I find that to be very uncool.
StarMountainKid says "How to just watch, amused, at whatever comes." This is a very good one. In fact my day to day life is usually made up of doing just that, watching amused at whatever comes. I mean, what else am I gonna do right? I got nowhere to go, no job, no girlfriend, no friends in my town, no money. What's a guy to do? I generally sit in front of one of the many screens in my room (TV, computer, PSP, GBASP, NDS, 3DS) and stare at the screen until my eyes hurt and I get a headache. Then I might go for a walk, read a book, or sometimes even sleep. Meanwhile I float along in the river of life, watching everyone elses lives move on ahead of me. I see my friends getting married and making money, while I am sitting emotionless, jobless, and loveless. I try to stay positive throughout all the depressing thoughts inside my head though. I avoid negative things, which is why I don't watch the news, I listen to music that makes me happy, I watch shows and movies that entertain me and make me feel good, I read books that inspire me to make an adventure out of life and write my own books. All the time, I watch the people around me living their lives which seem more important than mine, and inside there is always a burning desire in my heart to make something of myself, to publish my novels, to have a family, to go on an adventure. And some part of me knows that I can have all of that, everything I ever wanted if I just try and never give up.
I am not leaving you, I am evolving. Like the mighty teak, I am going to resist all the negative things that just want to destroy me. My will is free and my conditioner, unresponsive as well as my shampoo. I will watch, amused, at whatever comes my way and knock down all the barriers that keep me from reaching my goals. This move and consequential break from Unexplained Mysteries is just the first step on my road to the rest of my life.
This is to inform anyone that actually cares, that I will be deleting my stories from the internet. I have been informed through various sources that posting one's work through blogs and the like is considered publishing. Many real publishers will not accept work that has already been published elsewhere so that is why I am deleting mine. To prove I am serious about this business and improve my chances of fulfilling my dream, I will no longer be posting my stories on unexplained-mysteries or anywhere else. I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.
If for some reason, you wish to read my work, I can send it through a private message or something. Thank you everyone who has read my stories, everyone who left a comment or feedback, they did not go unnoticed. I appreciate your interest and I hope that you will look forward to reading the finished products when they are published in the future.
I will continue to post blogs occasionally since I do not plan on having those published. Unless I get super famous and they become valuable.
Well, I am happy to say it looks like things are finally starting to change for the better. Nothing is quite set in stone yet, but there's a good chance I will be moving soon. Out of the s***hole with no jobs I live in now, to a bigger place with a lot more opportunities. It is not without help but at least this will give me a chance to become independent soon. Now that my curse has been healed, I am looking for a job. I have basically settled on a few options I think I have the best shot at but if they don't work out I have options B through S to fall back on. I am also learning to drive. I've read the book and even found a few practice quizzes online that I've been using. My friends say it's easy and it seems like it will be but if any of the questions involving numbers are on there, I'm done for. Numbers are not my thing. I forget my own age sometimes.
While I am very happy and excited that all of these things are finally happening in my life after four years of waiting and suffering, I will say that it all terrifies me. I don't know the first thing about adulthood and its responsibilities. My father never told me anything about this kind of stuff because we hardly saw each other. When we did, he couldn't fit the life lessons between the beer, cigarettes, cursing and insults. My mother wasn't much help either because as far as I know, she has never had a job or a car and has always got by on social security, child support and food stamps. As awesome a parent and chef she is, I'm afraid she isn't much of a teacher. And none of my other family has ever offered to help and I have never asked because I have problems with approaching people and talking to them. This is why, I think schools should be required to teach things that people actually have to know when they get out of school. Geometry and PE has not helped me one bit.
I know it won't take me long to learn things but the whole concept of being on my own still kinda scares me. Part of me is more than ready to get out there and be free but another part is terrified and feels like I'm still not ready. They are equal and opposing forces and I'm stuck in the middle with no idea which one to listen to. Do I just jump out of the nest and try to fly, without even knowing how to spread my wings? Or do I stay a little while longer to prepare myself and practice flapping? The one I'm leaning towards is jumping out. I feel that if I don't do it now, I'll never be ready. I just have to take the chance and hope I can fly.
Meanwhile, I haven't been writing lately. I'm not entirely sure why, I guess I just don't feel like it much lately. I've been too busy trying to work on the problems in my real life to think about my characters. It kinda sucks because I stopped in the middle of some chapters, half-finished ideas just waiting to be written. As soon as all the dust has settled, I will come back to my stories and continue my work. Hopefully I can start writing regularly soon and finally get one of the longer stories finished. Then I will submit my manuscripts to some publishers and try to start the career I really want. I still dream of the day I am sitting in a modest, but nice house in a small, quiet town, my amazing and lovely wife beside me and our children playing in the floor, opening Christmas presents or running around getting in trouble. That is the moment I will truly soar.
WARNING: More whining and complaining ahead.
The last few weeks have been strange for me. I've been in a weird place emotionally, spiritually, mentally. I feel like I've just lost control of everything, if I ever had any control to begin with. I'm trying to find a job without enlisting the help of anyone else and it's proven very difficult. I may have to start asking for some favors from friends which would require me to move. I am perfectly fine with moving, I just wasn't wanting to do it so soon. Now, however, sooner is looking so much sweeter.
Some other family just moved in, bringing our small household back up from 4 to 6. The transition has been less than comfortable for me, because I am not particularly fond of these people. They complicate things. I liked the place as it was with four of us. It was quiet. Everybody stayed out of everybody's business. These two love to be in people's business and change things around to fit their liking. This usually doesn't effect me much but when it starts messing with my lifestyle, I begin to get aggravated.
Lately, it seems like something is trying to force me to leave, or start making noise. Everything that made my happy little existence comfortable is being taken away, one piece at a time. Most of these things were just borrowed anyway, but some of it, isn't even going to be used. It's just going to be out of my reach. And I can't really do anything about it, since it isn't mine and I don't pay the bills. I've been getting more and more upset and irritable every day over nothing. What I need is some way to unwind and relax for a few days, but I can't even do that. I've started taking walks again. Mostly to say I exercise a little bit but also to clear my head or think about stuff. I've been sleeping at random hours every day, trying to settle in to some routine but it hasn't been very successful. I think I may have it now, but I'll have to wait and see what happens for a few days.
I feel like I'm losing myself. It's like I'm sinking into some dark pit that I won't be able to get out of. I've been drowning out my thoughts with television, trying to catch up on things before I get a job and don't feel like doing anything else. All it does is help me procrastinate a little bit more. Give me a bullsht excuse to not try to get a job or a driver's license. I haven't been writing either. Even though I know, if I have a chance to make something of my life, it's going to be with my stories. I know it's a long shot but every other shot I have is longer.
I want out. I want to leave this stupid hole in the ground and be something. I want to travel the world and see everything that I've only seen in history or geography books. Then, I want to settle down somewhere, get married and have kids. I want a family. Then I'll travel the world again and bring my family with me. I am aware of the amount of money those trips would cost and that's why I want to be successful in something. I'll never be able to do it if I get stuck in some dead-end job in the middle of Nowhere, Arkansas. But that's probably exactly what is going to happen.
Sometimes, I think it's all pointless. There is no reason to try. My plans never work out. Nothing ever goes my way, so why would the biggest plan I've ever made work? That's when I'm faced with the reality that it won't work. It will never work. The only people that have that kind of money are either extremely lucky and/or talented, born into it or create billion dollar companies where they scam people out of their money with pointless products and devices that people think they need. I am none of those things. I have no luck, no talent, no fortune to inherit, and not enough intelligence, patience or money to create a business. I have no job skills and no experience. I am horribly awkward in social situations. I'm overweight, short, ugly and all of my senses are failing. I'm already losing hair, I don't eat right, rarely exercise and I have more minor health issues than I can even remember. Not to mention the major ones I probably have but have never been checked for.
Yes, I think the only way I am ever getting out of this is if my writing doesn't suck as much as I think it does or I get extremely lucky somehow and find a sack full of money somewhere. Until then, I will probably be asking my friends who live in a bigger town with more job oppurtunities to help me get a job in their town. Then, I will probably be moving in with them. I'm sure they will probably help me learn to drive. Then, I will get a car. And who knows after that? All the while, pretending to be a writer in the hopes that some publisher will finally publish my stuff. But we all know that's never going to happen. I'll probably meet someone at work, buy a place in town somewhere, and if I'm lucky, we'll get married and I might get that family I wanted and live in a decent neighborhood. And if I'm really lucky, we'll grow old, watching our children grow up and live their own lives until we die. But, you know what? I think I'm okay with that.
I am at a pivotal moment in my life story. It's the moment when all ties to relatives and friends become disconnected and one realizes that one must go out into the dark, scary place that we call "the world". With my pilonidal cyst finally [hopefully] all cleared up and gone for good [now], I am finally able to move on and into the unknown. It's going to be tough, it's going ot be scary, but it's a necessary experience and I know one day, I'll land on my feet and notice that I am living quite comfortably without any help. That moment of realisation is one that I have been longing for because it means that I will finally be my own person, with my own place in the world. The next few weeks will be a challenging time for me. I will have to overcome many of my fears as I learn how to drive, find a job and eventually move out on my own (probably not in that order). After being sidelined for four years, I think I am ready to start living.
So yesterday, my cousin and best friend, who I lived with for four years and knew for many more, has moved out. We were living together with two other cousins, in his mother's house, and he finally decided to leave the nest. An oppurtunity was presented to him and he took it. I am happy for him but there's also a sadness. Because, I know our friendship will change after being seperated for a while. It's been only one day and already the pangs of loneliness are setting upon me. Even though, there are other people in the house, I can not speak to them as openly and comfortably and understandably as I could with him. I am no stranger to loneliness though; I was in virtually the same position before I moved to this place. I had no one I could really talk to. I imagine he feels quite the same way, in fact, he told me so the night before he left. So, I guess we're both in the same boat. Although it's probably worse for him, being in a new place and all.
Anyway, I guess the whole point of this is to reassure myself that, changes happen and sometimes it's good. There may be dark spots, where you feel like you just want to give up and you think you'll never make it, but somewhere there's a light, and holding that light is the hand of fate or salvation or something...I don't know.
Also, I have resumed work on my stories. I was previously on an unintended hiatus, not from writer's block or anything, just laziness I guess. But now I have continued. And the next chapter of Lockdown (temporary title) will be published soon. This chapter is different as it tells all about the mysterious Dr. Haxon. It's sort of a background story of his character. I think I will do these special background chapters every now and then, throughout the story. With other bits fit into the regular chapters. I'm trying to make the story a novel, but I don't think it's going to end up being long enough. So I'm going to try and delve into the backgrounds of the characters more. I already have short versions typed out somewhere so it won't be hard to just expand them a little. As for the other stories, I'm not sure what exactly is going to happen next yet. Perhaps, I'll just start writing and see where the words take me. Yes, that seems like a good idea.
Good mornightvening, everybody. As you probably don't know, I had surgery a few days ago. Don't worry, it wasn't for anything life-threatening. Just a huge infected area of my posterior region. Now that the affected area is gone and sealed up, things have become difficult for me. I am bound to my bed more than I was before and I can't do my yoga exercises anymore (yeah, right, like I do yoga (shut up, other me!)) because I could end up ripping my sutures out. That's not that bad, I can deal with that.
The thing that is bothering me the most is this stupid thing they have attached to my area. It's a tube that drains out the fluid buildup inside the wound with a little container at the end. This thing, which I have begun referring to as my tail, usually just lays beside me in bed. But when I get up, to use the facilities or escape from fire-breathing tornadoes, I have to be especially mindful that I don't rip the stupid thing out! This thing is actually the cause of the most pain I have had from this.
Accompanying all of this, is a pain that shouldn't even be happening. Completely unrelated to the surgery (I hope), after a short time of lying on one side, my legs begin to hurt and not just a little. It's almost excruciating. It gets so bad that I have to move them and hope that I don't move them too much and damage my bottom. Also, (I'm not sure if this is related but it probably is) I am having a hard time moving and lifting my legs, to the point where I have started thinking of them as cars. Because that's how much they seem to weigh.
Although it does suck, a lot, the pain is not as bad as I was expecting so that's a good thing I guess. Another good thing is, when this is all over, I can finally, at long last, move on with my life.
With an upcoming surgery coming up on the 21st, which will put me in serious pain for a while, causing me to be mostly immobile, I've been trying to enjoy my last few days of relative painlessness doing things I might not be able to do comfortably (or so I tell myself. Truthfully, I don't do much when it comes to moving). It is during this time, that I have noticed, more than usual, that most of my time is wasted doing things that are pointless and sometimes stupid.
First of all, I do not exercise, and although I have a good reason not to now, I almost never did before my cyst flared up either. I fully intend to start exercising as soon as I am physically able to do so, but if I actually stick to it is where the problem is. I have a tendency to quit things quickly if I notice they are not going anywhere. When I was exercising semi-regularly, I never saw any improvements. I probably wasn't trying hard enough, though. I know losing weight is hard but I've seen it happen and I know it's possible to do it with a little bit of work, a good diet and a lot of determination.
Instead of exercising, I watch TV. A lot of TV. I have a problem when it comes to television. If I hear about a show that is pretty popular among my age group, and doesn't seem completely stupid, I watch it. And since my tastes in art and media are very broad, I usually like the show. It annoys me sometimes. I really wish I was more picky when it came to the things I like. It would allow me so much more free time and memory space on my DVR and computer.
When I'm not doing that, I'm playing video games. Mostly video games I have had for years because I can't afford to buy new ones. The only way I am able to play some new games is if my cousin buys them or borrows them from someone. Most of my games are handheld also, which significantly lowers the fun level. Which brings me to my point; I don't even enjoy playing the games. It all seems like a chore to me. Some of my games are boring because I have already played them multiple times and got everything out of them. Others are too freaking hard and I get stuck easily on something which p***es me off so I quit playing it for months and try one of my others. I don't enjoy them but, I play them anyway, probably because I have nothing else to do when I'm bored and I don't have the laptop.
Which brings me to my next topic. When I'm not doing that stuff, I am on the internet. Checking my email for a new message, scrolling down on facebook, checking for Pokémon or wrestling news, boring crap like that. I do it three or four times a day at least. The rest of the time is spent watching Netflix or anime or the WWE Network, Googling random things that pop into my head, and the one productive thing I do on the internet: learning Spanish. I'm slowly learning how to speak Spanish on a pretty neat site called Duolingo. When I actually remember to do it. It often gets on my nerves too, when it decides that I need to refresh my memory of a certain lesson or the translation it shows for something is wrong when the word is used a certain way and they don't tell me about it. The only reason I'm even doing it is because knowing how to speak Spanish can be very helpful in getting a job where I live. But, I digress.
The other thing I waste a lot of time doing is something I'm not going to go into too much detail about.But I'm sure you can guess what it is. It's something a lot of people my age waste time doing, but I think I waste a little bit more time than is normal. I spend hours and hours sometimes, browsing the internet looking for something specific until I finally find it two or three hours later (or sometimes not at all). Then, when I realize how much time I've wasted, I feel completely stupid and tell myself I should have spent the time writing or something and then do the same exact thing the next day. This problem also tends to evolve into a much greater problem. A problem that I will go into even less detail about because it's something I'd much rather not tell anyone. Just know, that it's not good. And I know that it's not good, yet I still search for it, pointlessly, because I've learned that it's impossible to find, which I suppose is a good thing. I have tried to stop countless times and every time has resulted in failure. I end up disgusted at myself and questioning my own sanity, praying that, what will probably happen if I continue this fruitless search, never happens. And yet, I go back to it almost every day, fully aware of the risk and the contempt I have for myself. With the first problem, all I really need to do is learn how to reduce the amount of time wasted. But the second problem, which stems from the first problem, I have no idea how to fix without spending money I don't have on a therapist. I wish it would just go away, as fast as it appeared and stop trying to ruin my life.
The rest of my days consist of staring blankly at the wall or the computer screen, talking to my cousin, eating, the opposite of eating, personal hygiene activities and occasionally doing some household chore. Very seldom do I read or write, which is why my new chapters take so long to be published. I'm not sure why I don't read or write very much, I love doing them. But for some reason, they both are on the very bottom of my priorities when they should be near the top. I am hoping that when I am fully recovered and I get a job, all of this will change. I will have to work everyday which will significantly reduce the amount of free time I have, forcing me to have to cut back on everything. I hope then I can focus more on writing since I will probably have more inspiration and ideas. Although, I will probably come home and just watch TV, eat and then go to bed.
Well, he's finally gone. The man who terrorized my childhood, my arch enemy, the person who made my life a living hell, my father...is dead.
Do I feel happy? Relieved? Unburdened? No. But I'm not sad either. My feelings are weighing pretty heavily on me and there are far more burdens in life that I still have to worry about. The news came as a shock. I knew he was in bad health but, I didn't even know he was in the hospital, and then I hear the news filtered through who knows how many other people before it finally got to me, the man's son. The people in charge of his affairs aren't giving him a funeral or even a memorial and it bothers me for some reason. It just feels disrespectful. Even for a man who never gave anyone a reason to respect him, it seems wrong. It's not enough to make me want to do anything about it though. What could I do anyway with no money?
The truth is, it's probably what he deserves. It sounds harsh, but if you knew the kind of person he really was, you might not think so. I should hate him. Every bitter memory, every tear and every sleepless night, lying awake in fear, tells me, begs me to hate him. But for some baffling reason, I can't. How can you truly hate your own father? The man who helped give you life? The man who co-created you? Monster, though he may be. I can't say I love him, either. All I can remember him doing on those weekends when we were forced to stay with him by the corrupt legal system, is screaming and cursing and insulting everyone I love and then disappearing for years at a time. I don't know if I should cry, or go on pretending he never existed like I always have...
If there is one thing my father taught me, it is to not be like him. He never spoke these words to me, I learned it by watching him. And by listening to the twisted lies and warped beliefs coming out of his deranged mind. I vowed long ago to do everything in my power not to turn out like that man. That demented, unforgivable, drunken, evil man. And I will keep that vow until my own death. I will never be like my father.
There was a lot of bad. An overwhelming amount of bad, but there were also some good moments. Moments where I didn't fear for my very life. We watched movies together sometimes. Movies that I cherish to this day because they provided a form of temporary escape back then. One time, he drove me and my sister around in a wagon hooked onto his lawnmower. We actually had fun. That was one of the good times. They were seldom occasions, those times, but they did happen. Even I can not deny that.
My last visit with him was a nice one. It was last Christmas at my sister's house. I almost backed out but I decided to go and see if he had really changed his ways for the hundredth time. When I heard his voice, that morning, every memory flooded back like a tsunami breaking through the walls I had built around them. I quickly rebuilt the walls and tried to keep a polite face as I stood face to face with my father again, after all these years. I'm glad to say the whole experience was pleasant. It was a bit awkward at first but, with my sister's kids there and a couple of other people, there was enough to keep the focus off of our estranged past. We had a long talk about my future and some of his experiences when he was my age. I told him I had started writing stories and he was very supportive, like a father should be. It seemed like he was really making an effort this time. It made me happy. For the first time, I felt like I had a dad.
The weather was nice that Christmas, so we went outside and sat on the porch, watching the kids play in the yard. A small whirlwind blew the leaves on the ground into a tornado. The boys were fascinated by it and would try to catch up to it. My dad told me how whirlwinds just like that one used to happen all the time when he was a boy and he would play with them just like they were. It was a nice story, I couldn't remember him telling me anything like that before, in the dark days. We sat on the porch for a long time just talking. It was the first time we ever really bonded as a father and son. And I'm glad it is this memory and not some terrible shouting match that is my last memory of him.
I still feel like I never got the closure I've always wanted. I never got around to telling him exactly how I feel about him. I used to envision scenarios in my head where I would finally confront him about everything he said and did but now, all of that pent up rage and sadness from my childhood will never find it's target. But I hope he actually managed to fix himself, chase away whatever demons were inflicting him in those dismal days so long ago. I hope he cherished that last, truly good memory with the two children he so abysmally screwed up with in the past. I hope he saw that I made it out of that hell in one piece, without any help from him and I will be just fine without him. I believe I've had enough practice.
© 2014 Xanthurion
If you look back at my previous blogs, you may notice a weird little story about a guy who lost something and then got it back. <spoiler alert> The guy was me and the thing was a laptop. Well, I thought the monthly week without the laptop was over but a new week just started today. It infuriates me to no end. I rely heavily on that laptop for basically every single thing I do. I know I shouldn't but I do.
Also, if you read some of my previous blogs, you will notice a lot of complaining about some mysterious "curse" I have. If you go back far enough, I'm pretty sure I mentioned what it is called. No, it's not a real curse from a witch or a gypsy or whatever. It's a medical condition called a pilonidal cyst. AKA: abscess, AKA: giant pain in the ass (literally for me). Well, I thought I was going to have surgery soon to (hopefully) permanently get rid of this affliction, but it is taking an eternity and a half to get medical insurance for a jobless nobody. And the thing doesn't even bother me anymore.
So, it is for those reasons and a few others, I have decided to move on with my life. I'm not sitting lying around waiting for surgery anymore. I'm going to learn how to drive, get a job and hopefully two years from now when the curse returns, I will be prepared.
Another thing, I haven't been writing at all lately and I plan to remedy that. I used to write however much I feel like everyday, be it a paragraph or even just one sentence. So I'm going to try to get back into that habit. Starting with this blog entry.
I am writing this blog entry to inform you that I am going to resume posting my stories here shortly. For those of you who did not know, I write stories and used to post them on my blog but I stopped for some reason I can no longer remember. Anyway, I am going to start doing it again. I would advise against jumping into the middle of the stories. Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy them. And please do not hesitate to leave feedback or advice, corrections, etcetera. I probably won't get mad. But don't just be a douche nozzle. Helpful criticism is welcome, general dickiness is not. Thanks. Gracias. Arigato. Bertolli!
Someone once told me that I complain too much. That someone was my cousin who is also my best friend. After he said that, I began to notice just how much I really do complain. About 80% of everything I say recently is a complaint. It's starting to get annoying even to myself.
I like to think that I'm good at reading people. Good at knowing what people are thinking or how they would react to certain stimuli. I've never really tested it "in the field" so to speak but I have around the house and maybe it's because I know the people I live with very well, but I can usually predict how they will react or what they will say.
Also, this is a tad off subject but, a lot of times, I kind of get a sense of what someone is going to say before they say it. Sometimes word for word. This has happened to me in real life but mostly in TV shows or movies and sometimes even video games. It's probably just lucky guesses that come from knowing a person or character's speech patterns but sometimes it makes me wonder.
Anyway, back on topic. After noticing my extensive complaining problem, I began to notice other things about myself. Like the way I handle with grief or tough situations. I don't like negative topics so I shut them out. I push them away and pretend they don't exist or it's not happening. That's just the way I handle things. It's probably not the best way but it works for certain things. I still try to be polite and say all the proper things when confronted with something but it's really hard for me. I don't understand all the little things you're supposed to say in certain situations. And often my religious views conflict with what is considered the proper things to say. Where I come from, almost everyone believes in God and Heaven and all that. Whereas I am simply not sure. It all seems a little too farfetched to me. I wouldn't call myself an atheist. I think agnostic is the correct word for people of my belief. Those who believe in some higher power but are not particularly sure which one (or perhaps a brand new one).
I have also noticed that I am not very strong of will. I have often said I will do something and then I do not. I find it difficult to force change upon myself. It is just another annoying little trait of mine. Hopefully I can learn how to fix it soon but all I can seem to do about it is complain. In fact, this whole entry is a complaint, isn't it? I really need to stop doing that.
Well, Christmas is coming. And this one is going to be a bit different for me. I am going to see my father. We are not on very good terms. Why? you might be wondering. Because he is a self-righteous jack*** who likes to yell and curse and accuse everyone else of being the bad people. He has lied so many times, telling me he has changed and he is a good person now and he doesn't drink anymore. We talk for five minutes and he proves that he hasn't changed at all. But I'm going to give him one more chance because, what the hell, it's Christmas. Christmas is all about family. And he might give me some money...
I hope it doesn't turn out to be a huge mistake but I think it will. At the very least, it's going to be kind of awkward because the last thing I said to him was "I never want to see you again, happy bleepin' Father's Day!"
Maybe I will cancel. I like avoiding drama and awkward situations as much as possible. Maybe I will be sick or something. Or maybe he has actually changed this time and it will actually be kind of fun.
Anyway, merry Christmas everybody or happy <insert holiday here>
I just wanted to let you all know, my stories are going nicely. "The creative juices are flowing" or whatever the idiom is. Is idiom even the right word? Oh, well. However, be that as it may, insofar as to the rest of the facets of my everyday life...nothing much is different. I have a VCR/DVD player now. That isn't a typo. Well, it's not actually mine, I'm just borrowing it. But it helps. Before, I was just using my laptop to watch DVDs. And I didn't watch (VHSs?)...tapes. Well, I say my laptop but it isn't actually mine per se. It's a long-ish story. I won't bore you. Let's just say, I didn't buy it but I use it far more than the one who did. Well, that's all I have for today. Short blog entry. And holy crap, I say "well" a lot. Oh well...
Also to clarify the whole "Thanksgiving...pointless holiday..." thing. While I appreciate the tradition and the family and friends reuniting thing, I find it unnecessary since this can happen on any day. And the feast part is no longer traditional since a lot of people don't eat the traditional Thanksgiving food anymore. And who knows what the pilgrims and Native Americans ate anyway? Was it written down somewhere? (If so, I had no idea and I didn't feel like googling it.) As for the "being thankful" part, everyone is obviously thankful for their "wonderful family" and their job and a roof over their heads (and whatever god they believe in). There is no need in telling everyone because they already know. Don't take this the wrong way. I'm not bashing or insulting anyone. I'm simply explaining the way I think about it. At the very least Thanksgiving should be moved a few months backward, maybe in August or June. Because a lot of us reunite with our families and feast again a month later at Christmas (which is a much better holiday).
By the way, I'm thankful for being alive and having what little I have to keep me from going insane or becoming depressed. And the few people in my family that care about me and the even fewer friends that do. Hopefully next year, I will be able to add my health, job and love to the list. But I'm not getting my hopes up. Why do I always get so damn depressing? Forgot about that part. I'll say something happy...umm...bunnies, cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, leaf blowers, hockey, rainbows, fire hydrants, Raxacoricofallapatorius! (Disregard the 'short blog entry' statement earlier as this is no longer a short blog entry.)
The night was warm. There was no need for a heater because the man lived in Arkansas and the weather is stupid there. It was still October and the man knew that his long week was nearing it's end. As he struggled to hang on to the few frayed strings of sanity left in his tormented mind, the man fell asleep. He awoke to the sound of a television as it just came on and the volume was still high. The man tried to remember his dream as he did every day when he woke up, but recently, he found it difficult to recall what visions he saw in his sleep. Today was no different. Upon clearing his thoughts and looking at the low light in the room, signifying afternoon, the man looks up at his clock. It is past five o' clock PM. He had slept a little later today. The man then suddenly remembered that his cousin who had taken the laptop was scheduled to return today. The man looked at the place he had always kept the computer when lo and behold, there it was. Sitting atop his shelf occupying the formerly empty spot beside the television. The man's spirit was automatically lifted and he turned on the computer and did everything he used to do on it. Then the man wrote the second part of this story, his sanity restored.
"Why is it so cold?" The man said aloud as he sat at the computer with no heater on. It was only October but the weather told a different story. The thermostat had dropped to below freezing last night, or so it had felt. As the man's breakfast, a couple of small chicken pot pies were cooking in the microwave, he found himself lamenting on the fact that his shared laptop had been taken away for a week. The laptop in question by all rights belonged to the man's cousin who had purchased it and now has taken it with him while he stays at some relatives house for a week. The cousin let the man use the laptop and it had become a big part of the man's life. Now to be seperated from it for almost a week, the man thought he might go mad. It's nothing, I can manage with this old desktop until then, the man said to himself, in an effort to stave off his depression. Meanwhile, the microwave sounded it's three consecutive beeps, signifying the pies were done cooking. The man retrieved his breakfast and settled back into the computer chair. The anime episode the man was quasi-legally streaming had buffered enough to begin watching so he stopped typing this blog entry in the form of a short story and watched the show in a futile attempt to hold on to his evaporating sanity. I fear the end of the man's story is not a pretty one. But that, is a story for another day.