If you haven't any charity in your heart, you have the worst kind of heart trouble. ~Bob Hope

Friday, June 24, 2005

So, here we are alone in my blog? Don't worry it's my first time, too. Gosh, it's nice to be able to say that about something, because somedays it seems like there is nothing left for me to do but get fat and die. Cheerful, huh?

Ever feel so...so...so...just ARGH, that you didn't know what to do with yourself? That's me right now. I hear they make medications for this sort of thing, but honest to God it doesn't change a damn thing about my life, only blurs the edges. If there is any blurring to be done, I'll do it the old-fashioned way--double-scotch on the rocks with a vodka chaser and a beer for good measure. Or I'll just kick things. Yes, kicking things--nice, but only inanimate things or the air because I don't want to hurt anything, I just want to stop feeling so ARGH!

It's been a decade of nothing going my way. I try to improve upon my mistakes, do things differently, but it really seems like I'm running out of ways to change things. I try to talk to people, or whatever, but none of it seems to work for me. I dunno, a lot of times it seems like everyone decided who I was a longtime ago, and they're all still holding on to that illusion. Or they just flat out don't understand. It's never been easy to be me, and it gets harder as I get older.

So, what brings me here? Random, anonymous bitching. Hahaha. Seriously, I've been so angry lately that I can't even put it in words. I can talk around it. You all know how that goes, the pretending that everything is a-ok while you keep shoving all the shit that hurts down in that place where you put everything to deal with later. I guess you could call it the basement of your soul. (Granted, I'm not sure I have much of one left. Not too long ago I dreamt that I had been denied a loan because I had no coolant in my soul. To me is seemed to say,"Girl, you're empty" and it scared me because it is so true.) Anyway, my basement is in serious need of spring cleaning, but I am certain that there isn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with these feelings.

I tend to catagorize my problems in groups, you know, work, family, friends, men (although I almost always call them boys because I've yet to me one who wasn't). So, right now all my little catagories seem to have gotten together for an experiment in torturous chaos...

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