"say what you want to say. say what you need to say..." ~ john mayer

i've been told i should write a blog. this is me writing a blog - mostly about nothing. well...at least nothing that's mind-blowing or life-changing. furthermore, there are no rules and no limitations to this blog. lawd only knows i've never been a rule follower! i suppose in some ways that this is my opportunity to just say what it is i want and need to say, and for those of you who know me best...i'm probably not going to apologize for it.

if you've ever just wanted to unload, vent, bitch, moan and whine about life and how much it sucks kaka, and not care to be judged while just putting your feelings out there...here's your chance. or perhaps you want to tell everyone what blows your hair back and what a great day it is to be alive...bring it on! (i haven't always been a pessimist)! wink-wink. nudge-nudge. so read on my fellow bloggers!

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05 November 2010

In My Haze

there are so many fucking things that piss me the fuck off but that somehow i feel like i am able to prevent. i'm the crazy person doing the crazy things (in which i know better), that will land me somewhere between crying on my bathroom floor and flying off the handle. wtf. in an attempt to remain somewhat educated, i read, and when i read those ultra self-depricating, depressing prose of real life, i find myself not only relating but reeling backwards in rejection of reality. I'M that crazy person in that novel. i'm that crazy person in real life. i create this own self-loathing. and the reality doesn't only scare me...i scare myself.

this is my reality. i sabotage my own well being and my own happiness. i'm contented in never being happy and being totally disappointed and dissatisfied. this is me. i AM a masochist. should i be committed? or should i stop drinking? because in my haze i feel like the truth is staring at me in the eye and i can no longer deny the facts. gotdamnsonuvabitchwhore. vodka is suppose to make me forget how shitty my life is. instead it's confronting me head on and i don't fucking like it one gotdamn fucking bit.

do i stop drinking? or hope instead that my vodka binges will prove mostly forgetting of my pitiful existence? i just want to mostly forget the shit raining down on my head and still it won't stop slapping me in the face. motherfucker. this is reality. this is my life. fuckmotherfuckerfuckshit.

you know, when you drink so much...say...like three-quarters of a bottle of vodka, you tend to black out. i don't mind the blacking out. i mind not remembering what a gotdamn fucking bitch i am to put up with. perhaps if i'm in a really good mood and i randomly decide to overwork my liver, i'm the life of the party and a "whole ball of fun" to be around but on the contrary (which is more often than not), when i get severely intoxicated, i rapidly dive into this angry madness, and fear has no fury like a drunk-ass bitch who's pissed off at life. forget being scorned. i'm just pissed at the cards that have been dealt me. i'm not saying my life is so tragic. it's not. but fuckmotherfuckerfuckshit...throw a dog a bone already! i understand that i make my own decisions - my own very BAD decisions and that the consequences of such poor choices inevitably lead to the constant poopoo raining on my head. however, sometimes shit just rains down without any doing of my own. karma. is it karma? well...i haven't always been the nicest person walking the earth. like i said...gotdamn fucking bitch. at least i have the balls to admit it. but that doesn't mean i deserve being punched in the stomach repeatedly. i just keep hoping and holding on to the idea that the "light at the end of the tunnel" is near.

i just hope it's sooner than fucking later because i can't take too much more of this bullshit. and my liver can't take too much more of my alcohol intake in having to deal with the bullshit. maybe i should quit drinking. hahaha. yeah fucking right. i'll stop drinking when life quits shitting on my fucking head. gotdamnit.

i use to be an optimist...then i woke up one day and faced reality. good-bye optimism. and no matter how much i attempt to surround myself with the positive words of those who have come before me...i just can't quite make myself believe the magnificent wisdom that i apparently hang on to for no reason. reality. life is not a bowl of fucking cherries. and i cannot look through rose-colored glasses. it's been too hard of a life and i'm too jaded. i thought i'd know who i was at thirty-two but it is so far from the contrary. i don't know who i trust and there are times i'm not sure i trust my own feelings or choices. like i said, i scare myself.

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