Locuran

Wednesday, February 20, 2008



(4:14 am PT) - If it's not one thing it's another...
[link] - (distressed)

The host saw fit to upgrade certain aspects of php whether I wanted it done or not, and it's causing all kinds of trouble. I already sent in a support ticket. If you have a site under me, please go look it over.

I know the changes are for the best from a security standpoint, but it would be nice if they're going to do that to offer some kind of service to help sites like mine out to make sure they're forward compatible.

Wednesday, January 16, 2008



(10:11 pm PT) - Mishmashmosh
[link] - (distressed)

For those on the feed, this is a bit longish, just to warn. It's all pretty miscellaneous, hence the length.

You ever have those moments where you are absolutely certain you should be busy doing something, but for the life of you have no clue exactly what you should be doing?

That's about how my night's going. ::nods::

Far as school goes, I'm not used to having a writing assignment every week. Granted, most of them are very short, but it's hardly ever the length that gets to me, it's all the 'valid point making' I have to do, and adding credible sources to cite, thus enhancing my own credibility.

Of course most papers I've come to realise, save for maybe assignments in IT classes, are essentially nothing more than my own opinion. Now why that needs to have some kind of credentials when I'm not making any claims of stating said opinion from a standpoint of either authority or expertise, I'll never know.

Dear academic systems and institutions. When I'm stating fact, that's when you should make me cite. Not to simply 'bolster' my own opinion, because usually I'm only quoting someone else's opinion in the process.

Gift crafting: I've hit a snag and thus a possible delay, for mom has misplaced my crafting oven. How someone misplaces a toaster oven is beyond me, but with my family, I've learn to accept things like this. Soon as it's found, I will craft again. Just note this may delay the boxes a bit more, sadly.

Ficcing: Well I was going to try writing for potcfest, but my comment was completely and utterly ignored. I'm pretty sure I didn't break any flagrant etiquette rules, but whoever is running it skipped over my comment and answered people after me, so I'm taking it as a sign that I'm not to write any potc yet.

@Kit: I was going to email you about the ultra 'sekrit' thing you're working on, only to realise I don't know which addy you're using. /=_=;; Mine's is in my profile, so holler and I'll reply.

Still need to finish taking inventory... just not this week.

Monday, February 06, 2006



(11:31 pm PT) - ToGet backlash
[link] - (distressed)

So Kit wanted me to post my toget, which I've been avoiding for really obvious reasons. Before I post it, let me share the numbers.

Budget this month: 428
Cost of playing catch-up, with 10% discount: 517

As you can see, we have a discrepancy between my wallet and my crack.

I'm banking on the fact that a lot of things won't ship right away. Now whether that's going to equal the near 90 buck difference, I don't know. If not, I'll borrow from my con funds.

This, because someone won't pay me back the 400 owed to me in a timely manner.


ToGet Backlash

Tuesday, January 24, 2006



(9:14 pm PT) - What I'm not doing...
[link] - (distressed)

I'm not dead. I'm just being slowly killed mentally by my less than stellar peers in class.

I'm not flaking out with sending anything. Everything's boxed and ready to ship... I just need shipping money.

I'm not ignoring anybody, I just have nothing useful to say.

I'm not missing Mirchan, I'm really missing her.

I'm not skipped out on paying Moonchan for those chibis I want, it's just like the shipping situation, and needs money.

I'm not going to kill my peers for being a bunch of mental sheep. But that doesn't stop me from fantasizing about it.

I'm not writing fanfiction. Someone give me a plotbunny to change that real quick.

Also, I'm stealing borrowing Mina's idea and doing bday fics this year. So if you want, comment with pairing from a fandom you know I write for. (If you're not sure, you can check my interests, or just ask.) Include your bday. (I may know it, but my memory is crappy at best, so don't count on it.)

And if anyone's wondering why I'm so quiet, it's guilt, pure and simple. I wanted these boxes shipped last month. I feel bad for taking so long.

::stares at boxes waiting to be shipped:: Um, think of them as Groundhog's day gifts... yeah, that's it.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005



(10:36 pm PT) - Oh yeah, I want to go back to school to get the hell out of here.
[link] - (distressed)

Yes, yes, another family whine. Run if you want. I just need to vent before I shoot them.

Here's what I don't understand about my family. They keep getting on my case about being such a hard-ass and how I should be more compassionate, yet never does it once seem to enter their addled brains that it's an extreme lack of compassion that has shaped me into being who I am.

Yesterday the S-unit brings over her step-sister and shows her the place, who in turn asks me how is it, and I shake my head because it's not that great. I also point out the B-unit agreed, only for him to turn around and say no, it's fine. Then the S-unit goes on to say how, well, the oldest in the house should benefit the most, meaning the M-unit.

I've never had a quiet room, period. The old apartments were noisy. The last place, noisy. All I've ever wanted, however, was enough space for my things, and I can't even get that now, but oh, don't listen to her, (my sister's words exactly). Nevermind I haven't exercised since we got here and I have to sell my treadmill. Either that, or I keep it outside and walk in the patio, which is uncovered and can be seen by anyone on the surrounding second floor balconies. And nevermind the whole purpose for my brother to get the bigger room was to get his stuff out of storage, which is currently still in there. (Not to mention upon realising that I don't have any room for the few things I also have in storage, well, let's split the storage between just me and the M-unit instead since his stuff won't be in there anymore. I at least was able to veto that for the time being.)

Then today, I've added up that I've been forced to loan out a grand total of $380 dollars in November. But $100 of that I'm not going to get back right away. To boot, M-unit has to nerve to ask me what was the 200 she borrowed today for. Upon answering her questions with questions, I find that things I want to spend my own money on are still considered a waste in her eyes. ("Why do you want to know?" "I'm curious." "Why do you need to know, and is it going to delay paying me back?" "No, I'm just nosey, though I may give you a funny look." "Then there's no reason for you to know if that's the case.")

And finally, just now, I'm asked for an additional $20 for the S-unit to borrow. I agreed only if she signed a promissory note. But no, the M-unit gives her the money anyway, (I was typing up the note, mind you, and didn't know they had left). Then I'm told that "I wish you would have more compassion for her situation. I know she'll pay you back." Then upon my pointing out that 1. her getting haed-assed with the S-unit doesn't amount to much, and 2. compassion has no place in business, and will get you screwed over, the M-unit gets huffy and says she'll sign it and I can, "take her to court instead."

(To add fuel to this fire, anyone remember this month and this month in my life? M-unit has the nerve to say S-unit feels like "we dissed her" for making her move out. Considering the hell I was going through, I honestly don't give a flying rat's mutated nut how she feels about that time.)

Dearest family ... you know what, fuck off. I don't need this bullshit. You all cry me a river with your problems, but don't give a damn about any of mine, and then wonder why I don't talk to you about them. Depressed? Oh yes, I have been, to the point of tears within the last two weeks alone. Suicidal? Sure, been there. Think you know any of this? Course you don't. Why should I even bother telling you?

The only thing I've ever heard on the few occasions I've admitted to either problem was "don't be depressed" and "I'd go nuts if you killed yourself." Note the egocentric nature of the latter comment.

I'm going to work my ass off with this online uni thing, because so help me, if I get away, you will not have to worry about hearing from me again. And if I die old and alone with only a cat for company, so be it. Because family isn't worth a hill of beans at this point. You only cry about being together when it's your problems, but I'm on my own each and every time with mine.

Oh, unless it comes to helping me get a better income. I'll grant you that one time, but wasn't that more for your own sake than mine?

I'm forced to wonder.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005



(2:04 pm PT) - Yet another reason for needing to get away
[link] - (distressed)

Long rant, possibly whiny, but need to get it out before I scream or stab myself in the head, literally.

More not-fun filled reasons to seek residence away from family units.

M-unit asks for: 1. $100 to help with moving expenses; 2. half of the U-haul bill for the second van. She pulled $120, saying I owed five on the u-haul, which came to $50. Fine. Yesterday she asks to borrow $30. Fine. Today she asks me to check her and B-unit's account. In doing so, I decide to check my own. Lo and behold, I see the $120, plus a full charge for U-haul. When I asked about it, it seems she didn't get to put the money she pulled from me into the bank, so her card wouldn't cover it. This happened beginning of last week. She did not mention it to me until I saw the charge and asked. Then goes on to say she owes me half of the U-haul charge.

Someone tell me if my math is wrong, because if she pulled my half for the bill, then paid the bill with all my money, doesn't she owe me the full bill, since the previous debit she created had already taken my half?

When I made mention to my sister about being annoyed at just not being told about it, she goes to M-unit's defense, saying how tired and stressed she is. And what praytell does that have to do with not telling me what was done with my money over a fucking week ago.

I don't buy that "just slipped my mind". And I keep telling her I micro-manage my money. I can anticipate loans that I know about. But if I think I have x amount in the bank and make an order, only to discover no, I don't because it was borrowed without fucking telling me, then I'm the one who's screwed.

So now, instead of trusting her with my card like I had been, it seems from now on I have to go with her to make the transactions that I'm asked about, then immediately get my card back.

But she's the victim. She's the one who's stressed. She's the one who needs help but nobody helps her.

Here's a scenerio. She gets a cold. I go to get me something to eat. She gets this look on her face, and when I ask why, she complains how I didn't ask her if she wanted anything. Um, hello. First, there have been a few times when I'm sick, and I have to deal. Nobody came to check or ask how I was doing, mainly because they didn't believe I was that bad off. Two, what in the hell is so damn hard about opening one's mouth while I'm not more than five feet away and saying, "Can you get me..."?

I am not generally observant or compassionate by nature. And I sure as hell am not a mind reader. If you're hungry but you're sick, no, I'm not going to think to ask are you hungry, because I DON'T FREAKING KNOW.

::breathes:: I don't like sympathy matyrs, period. If people want help, they should ask. The reaction will either be yes, or no. Someone explain why this concept is so difficult to understand, please?

Edit: She agrees she owes me the $20 plus half the bill, but then turns around and asks if I'll loan her more money so the B-unit can get a new TV, which was damaged in the move. Funny, when I complained about my desk being damaged, all I got was "you should've been there to help more."

I guess when I'm not useful as a bank or an ear, or perish the thought, I say no to something, I'm a lazy, no-good, ungrateful, spoilt child who doesn't do enough for the family.

I think, after NaNo, I'm now going to seriously look into some online degree courses. It can't be more expensive than just going to school. Though my marketability is decreasing with age, but I have to try, because I don't think it's in my best interest to try and stay. Even if it takes me another decade, least I can put forth an effort some sort of way.

Saturday, October 22, 2005



(4:52 pm PT) - You know you're stressed when...
[link] - (distressed)

You send the email giving fic comments to your hosting company instead of the support email. And you send the private email about the con hotel to the ML, instead of previously mentioned fic comment. At this rate, I'll wind up sending the NES roms to Kalli instead of to my brother.

Someone just... shoot me. Shoot me dead.

Wednesday, August 25, 2004



(10:56 am PT) - mia
[link] - (distressed)

I'm not going to be around for awhile longer. The place we put a security deposit on fell through. Then a second place rejected the application. Official reason, mom has c credit. Non-official reason, nobody works, (we're all trying to go back to school). I don't feel like dealing with too much of anything at this point, even though I know I have to.

No comments. I'm not in this for a pity party. Just explaining why you may not see me for a bit.

Saturday, August 07, 2004



(9:17 am PT) - I can't even get a little break, apparently
[link] - (distressed)

Ever since I bought a dj from the seemingly now defunct Dokidoki station, I've been an avid follower of a particular dj circle called FIRE HOUSE, who focus on DMC. (Yes, twincest, and I don't care.) I usually keep up on what they sell and if something is due to come out, so I can buy it asap. Well the last time I hit the site, I saw a new dj was due on the 13th of this month. I set a reminder to myself and called it a day.

A couple of days ago, I tried to visit the site, and could not get in. I keep getting the page cannot be displayed in IE, or document has no data in Firefox. But apparently it's just me, because someone else doesn't seem to have any problem visiting the site.

So if anyone could, please hit http://www.h4.dion.ne.jp/~fire.h/ and tell me if you can get through or not.

::sigh:: This was going to be a gift to myself, but it looks like I can't even get that much.

Thursday, July 29, 2004



(10:57 am PT) - I have to get out. I just don't know how
[link] - (distressed)

I'm so upset I could spit. Just when I think everyone's sold on trying to move to 'frisco, I'm now being told that, no, we should stay down here so my brother can go to Musician's Institute.

So, I'm going to call State Rehab tomorrow and see if maybe, just maybe, they can help me go to the school I want. Then I'm going to look for a roommate somewhere. Maybe there's listings or something.

I can't take it. I really can't. And she doesn't even see what she's doing. Just today we had a conversation where she said she was really surprised when she found out I was diagnosed with bi-polar.

"...You were always the even-tempered one; the one I could depend on."
"It's not like you gave me much room to be otherwise."

AND SHE DOESN'T GET IT.

I can't. I thought I could wait it out. I thought I'd be able to stay until I could safely get on my own, but I see that's not an option. Unfortunately, I know the job market is terrible, especially for a person like me. I might have talents, as she seems to think is enough, but I don't have any kind of paper behind my name, which makes all the difference... whether you deserve said paper or not.

I'm making a reminder to myself to call Rehab tomorrow. Time to cut myself loose, even if I cut flesh and bleed to death. I'd rather die alone and trying than getting buried.

Sunday, July 25, 2004



(11:34 am PT) - I don't like one-way streets
[link] - (distressed)

My matriachal-unit has decided to try her hand at selling lunch combos to nearby residents and people who work in the hospital across the way, (where my aunt happens to work as well). She wants to deliver sandwiches to the hospital employees during the week, then do burger (and taco) combos on the weekend. This is fine in and of itself, and her experimental trial as of yesterday earned her some money on a day when the locals aren't known for having any on hand.

The downside to all of this falls on my part in the whole scheme of things. I've never wanted to work in the fastfood industry. I've entertained thought of selling candy, cakes, and pastries, but nothing beyond that, because I don't like to cook outside of those types of foods. However, my brother is hopeless in the kitchen, period. His greatest culinary achievement is making himself some instant ramen. My sister, if she were to come over here, would complain about being on her feet all the time. (Like I'm not overweight myself, but at least I'm trying to fix that.) Plus, because of her ample size, she's too big for mom to work around in the annoyingly tiny cubbyhole we pretend is a kitchen. So who does it fall to whenever mom says, "I need extra hands." Of course, the dutiful one.

This irks me in so many ways I can't even list them all down. But the most irritating is the fact that I'm once again forced to support another member of the family, when it's been proven time and time again that I get nothing by way of that same support in return. I'm so damn tired of hearing about her hopes and aspirations for my brother's musical career. (At least I think she's wised up and stopped asking me to look online for grants he can apply to.) Now I'm suppose to help her cook, nevermind what I may have been working on for myself, because that's how it always goes. When it comes to anything I'd want to do, I'm on my own. She'll claim she offers emotional support at the very least, but if that's her idea of support, I'd get better with a fresh pair of Fruit-of-the-Loom for women.

So I have this. I'm supposed to help her. Where's my help? Where's the same willingness to make calls on my behalf or look into something for me to further explore? Where's the looking for some kind of financial help so I too can go back to school, especially this school.

All yesterday afternoon I was in a hot kitchen helping to prepare food for people I wouldn't give two dead meerkats to, thus in turn preventing me from working on more background tiles to add to my Bryony site.

I've gotten more encouragement about my walking from online than from her. In fact she continues to hinder me by offering me food when I don't want or need it.

Yet, because of my financial situation, I'm stuck. I just don't earn enough to be able to support myself alone. And now with the threat of the rent being increased, even my own ideas for any small business ventures I may have will again have to wait. Another mark against her, because it seems all my ideas for such possible side income are again things I'm on my own in doing.

I can't wait to see what happens on the 18th. I used to want to go to a real Hawaiian barbeque, with the roast pig and everything. I first asked for this when I was somewhere in my late teens. I'm going to be 29, and I've yet to experience this. She keeps saying she will, she will, but now I'm past the point of concern. There's been too many broken promises for me to be able to say I can completely believe her anymore.

And it's also why I tend not to make promises. I know how easily they can be broken, so I'd rather say "I'll try" and have room for error, than "I'll do" and just look completely unreliable.

It still happens, because I have a horrible memory. I get so many things going on, and I honestly forget. So sometimes I need to be reminded. I don't like that about myself, and I do try to change/avoid it, but it still comes up irregardless.

But this is different. She's different. And I'm just so tired of it. I can understand, as Kit pointed out last night, that it's probably not intentional on her part. But it just doesn't change the end results.

I'm tired of being a crutch, because it's always leaned on, but can never stand on its own.

Thursday, May 27, 2004



(1:29 am PT) - Not spoiling, exactly...
[link] - (distressed)

Episode 27.
Death one, check.
Three episodes remaining.
I feel like I'm on a deathwatch now.


Monday, May 10, 2004



(4:17 pm PT) - Searching...
[link] - (distressed)

Most times I'm not doujinshi desperate, because I know how hard finding a particular one can be. I'm usually happy for what I can get, and leave it at that.

Well, there's exceptions to every rule.

I rarely fall hard for a particular doujinshi circle, since it's too difficult trying to collect just their work. But that changed when I picked purchased a Devil May Cry dj called "Sweet Stinger," by a circle called FIRE HOUSE. I saw a url and went on a whim, only to discover they sold their djs overseas via mail order. Sweet. I've been purchasing their books ever since.

Unfortunately, by the time I found them, two books had already been sold out. The first one's called Dante-The task taker-, and the second, Lover Brother. You can find sample pages here.

So, to the point of this post, if you haven't already figured it out, I'm desperately trying to find those two books. But my doujinshi hunting skills have always, how would I say this, sucked. So anyone have tips, leads, or hints on how/where I can find these two books, please for the love of smut, let me know.

And to those getting ready to surf on, thinking you can't help, get back here, because you can. You have friends, people. Ask them. Have them ask their friends. I don't care if I have to buy the books in the back of a pissy alley from a doujinshi dealer named Bubba. I'll do it.

(Now there's an image not leaving my head any time soon.)

So yes, help me. How I can repay you, I don't know, so name your price/poison and we'll negotiate. Fair?

Friday, October 17, 2003



(11:18 am PT) - Now it hits home
[link] - (distressed)

Now it hits me, when I'm all alone, and I know just how bad my depression can get.

I don't lie when I say I can't handle people. I can't. I can't handle those around me where I live. I can't handle those who refuse to open their minds to a different perspective. I can't handle the assholes, jerks, idiots, morons, and whatever else you can think of who feel theirs is the only right way. I can't, because it hurts. And when I feel pain, I in turn get angry once I'm able to summon the energy. I can only do that once the ache recedes.

And now I feel like the world's only extroverted introvert.

When I know there is someone around me that I can talk to within easy reach, it's okay for me to feel that pain, because even if I don't actually talk to them of whatever's made me feel this ache, their presence takes it away. And the anger? They reign it in, so I don't lose it as many times as I could have.

But now I'm alone, and I only feel this melancholy, while all the little self-doubts I normally keep locked away are breaking the dam and threatening to drown me in the flood.

Normally, I wouldn't even write about this, but I know right now, if i want to get oer this episode, I have to do something.

Now I know what my biggest fear is. I always believed it was dying before I got to see the end of whatever little things managed to give me joy in what could otherwise be a sad life, but that's not it. Then I thought it was death, but while the idea of losing my sense of self does make me anxious, that isn't my biggest fear, either.

Simply put, it's being alone. And I mean completely alone, cut off from everyone. Worse, being alone within a group.

As I said before, I really do suck at making friends. I know I'm a bitch (no need to mince words about it), and I wind up keeping to myself because I don't necessarily want to be seen that way by certain people that I think I could be friends with. So I keep quiet, until I realise I simply can't reach out to anyone. I find myself trapped in a prison of my own doing with no visible means of escape.

This is why I'm BiPolar, I guess. Funny, you wouldn't really know it if you saw me with others. I don't feel this way when I'm actually talking to someone if I've managed to get past the awkward first stage of conversation.

I hate this it sucks I feel pain I'm WAY too sensitive and I don't want to feel this anymore.

Sorry, had to get that out.

I suppose if I want to change this, I have to show this to my therapist. It's so difficult for me, though. I've been burned and burned and burned again whenever I let any of myself go through on a one-on-one basis with others. I don't mean my usual entries, I don't me my chats. I mean those rare entries where I have to be honest and admit I feel pain.

Where I have to admit I feel, period.

Would the loss of the ability to feel any pain make up for the same loss to feel joy and happiness?

Of course there's the question of what makes me happy, and I have no answer.

I look at myself and feel disgust, thanks to a society that says I'm not supposed to be overweight, because that's ugly.

I look at myself and feel weak thanks to the same society trying to condition me that I am because of my gender. (Fortunately, I rebelled heavily at that one.)

I look at myself and feel stupid because I don't have a degree or I didn't finish any kind of college, and I'm not earning a 5-6 figure annual salary. Again, society tells me I should.

I look at myself and feel less than human, because at one point, I would have been.

And now we come to the second biggest fear of never finding a place to belong. I'm sad to say that one might very well be true.

Everyone in my immediate family has found some form of love with a significant other, even if it was for just a little while. So, why am I flawed?

Fuck, now I don't even know what the hell I'm saying anymore.

Don't worry, if it sounds like I might consider doing something extremely stupid, I won't. I don't like hurting people i care about, be they in real life or over the net. And I really would be a failure, as well as a coward, if I took the easy way out.

I suppose it's true, as I sit here and try my damndest to look at what's happening from a logical view, that the last thing a depressive should ever do is self-introspection. It makes a depression or depressive episode worse. Hence why depressives shouldn't be alone, because without that external stimuli, no matter how draining we think it is, the only place left for our thoughts to go is inward, and the small flaws in our characters become emotional gaping wounds that we swear will never close.

And some minute part of me is clinging to a hope that, even as I'm sayin things I know I'll feel great shame at once I'm back in a normal zone (or as close as I can get to it), that maybe these words will help someone understand, either about themselves or someone else.

But I have to say them, because I don't want to do "something stupid." That's why I've always wrote, to let go of things before I'm eaten alive from the inside.

I'm angry at myself, however, in a very childish way. It's my mind, it's my emotions. I should have better control that this.

Why?

The line for reg starts at 3. I'll go down at two. I'll look normal, which is probably this somewhat stoic expression. Certain it's a distant one.

What I'll feel is hard to say at this point.

I truly wish I didn't feel anything at all.

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I'd like to come back as a single raindrop.



(11:17 am PT) - Now it hits home
[link] - (distressed)

Now it hits me, when I'm all alone, and I know just how bad my depression can get.

I don't lie when I say I can't handle people. I can't. I can't handle those around me where I live. I can't handle those who refuse to open their minds to a different perspective. I can't handle the assholes, jerks, idiots, morons, and whatever else you can think of who feel theirs is the only right way. I can't, because it hurts. And when I feel pain, I in turn get angry once I'm able to summon the energy. I can only do that once the ache recedes.

And now I feel like the world's only extroverted introvert.

When I know there is someone around me that I can talk to within easy reach, it's okay for me to feel that pain, because even if I don't actually talk to them of whatever's made me feel this ache, their presence takes it away. And the anger? They reign it in, so I don't lose it as many times as I could have.

But now I'm alone, and I only feel this melancholy, while all the little self-doubts I normally keep locked away are breaking the dam and threatening to drown me in the flood.

Normally, I wouldn't even write about this, but I know right now, if i want to get oer this episode, I have to do something.

Now I know what my biggest fear is. I always believed it was dying before I got to see the end of whatever little things managed to give me joy in what could otherwise be a sad life, but that's not it. Then I thought it was death, but while the idea of losing my sense of self does make me anxious, that isn't my biggest fear, either.

Simply put, it's being alone. And I mean completely alone, cut off from everyone. Worse, being alone within a group.

As I said before, I really do suck at making friends. I know I'm a bitch (no need to mince words about it), and I wind up keeping to myself because I don't necessarily want to be seen that way by certain people that I think I could be friends with. So I keep quiet, until I realise I simply can't reach out to anyone. I find myself trapped in a prison of my own doing with no visible means of escape.

This is why I'm BiPolar, I guess. Funny, you wouldn't really know it if you saw me with others. I don't feel this way when I'm actually talking to someone if I've managed to get past the awkward first stage of conversation.

I hate this it sucks I feel pain I'm WAY too sensitive and I don't want to feel this anymore.

Sorry, had to get that out.

I suppose if I want to change this, I have to show this to my therapist. It's so difficult for me, though. I've been burned and burned and burned again whenever I let any of myself go through on a one-on-one basis with others. I don't mean my usual entries, I don't me my chats. I mean those rare entries where I have to be honest and admit I feel pain.

Where I have to admit I feel, period.

Would the loss of the ability to feel any pain make up for the same loss to feel joy and happiness?

Of course there's the question of what makes me happy, and I have no answer.

I look at myself and feel disgust, thanks to a society that says I'm not supposed to be overweight, because that's ugly.

I look at myself and feel weak thanks to the same society trying to condition me that I am because of my gender. (Fortunately, I rebelled heavily at that one.)

I look at myself and feel stupid because I don't have a degree or I didn't finish any kind of college, and I'm not earning a 5-6 figure annual salary. Again, society tells me I should.

I look at myself and feel less than human, because at one point, I would have been.

And now we come to the second biggest fear of never finding a place to belong. I'm sad to say that one might very well be true.

Everyone in my immediate family has found some form of love with a significant other, even if it was for just a little while. So, why am I flawed?

Fuck, now I don't even know what the hell I'm saying anymore.

Don't worry, if it sounds like I might consider doing something extremely stupid, I won't. I don't like hurting people i care about, be they in real life or over the net. And I really would be a failure, as well as a coward, if I took the easy way out.

I suppose it's true, as I sit here and try my damndest to look at what's happening from a logical view, that the last thing a depressive should ever do is self-introspection. It makes a depression or depressive episode worse. Hence why depressives shouldn't be alone, because without that external stimuli, no matter how draining we think it is, the only place left for our thoughts to go is inward, and the small flaws in our characters become emotional gaping wounds that we swear will never close.

And some minute part of me is clinging to a hope that, even as I'm sayin things I know I'll feel great shame at once I'm back in a normal zone (or as close as I can get to it), that maybe these words will help someone understand, either about themselves or someone else.

But I have to say them, because I don't want to do "something stupid." That's why I've always wrote, to let go of things before I'm eaten alive from the inside.

I'm angry at myself, however, in a very childish way. It's my mind, it's my emotions. I should have better control that this.

Why?

The line for reg starts at 3. I'll go down at two. I'll look normal, which is probably this somewhat stoic expression. Certain it's a distant one.

What I'll feel is hard to say at this point.

I truly wish I didn't feel anything at all.

If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I'd like to come back as a single raindrop.

Wednesday, May 28, 2003



(8:54 pm PT) - For the record
[link] - (distressed)

I'd like to make a declaration.

Today did not happen.

I'm tempted to sleep through all of tomorrow to avoid repeating today... which I refuse to acknowledge.

Goddess deliver me.

Friday, January 03, 2003



(2:06 pm PT) - Any wonder why I quit being generous...
[link] - (distressed)

So how do you take it when you offer help/aid out of true sincerity and simply wanting to be, well, helpful, but you find out indirectly, (versus the person telling you themselves), that you've been rebuffed?

This has happened to me so many times it's little wonder why I don't like to help anyone anymore. Yet when that happens, I'm called selfish, or worse.

Sometimes, I admit, I simply forget. But that's not because I don't want to help. And I tell people all the time, if you don't hear back from me, it's probably because I have forgotten, so please remind me. (If everyone could experience what I'm living with for one day, their memory would be shot to hell, too.)

::sigh::

Mchan - your package is on the way, but I forgot to put the battery in there. It will need one double A. Sorry.

Domino - ever figure out what you want your username/url ending to be? Soon as you do, I'll set it up for you.

In other, more disturbing news, my mother unit and her bf have been stealing all my erotica, from my La Blue Girl tapes to my books, including Ana?s Nin's "Delta of Venus," and a couple of tantric massage books I had. I'm... perturbed to say the least...

total posts to date: 1522

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