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Blogroll Me!
There are people on the net that have nothing better to do with their time
then be nasty to other people online. They post rude comments, spend hours
a day talking about sites they hate so much, that they well, spend hours a
day talking about them. (lame) They mock the owners and posters for their
opinions and their right to free speech. They expect everyone to fit into
their narrow-minded little world view or else they throw a temper tantrum.
To these people I say grow up.
Here's a bit of info people...the web is
a HUGE place. If you don't like what I say here, or who I am, or what I
do, or talk about, or what I look like, or the color of my hair, or
whatever asinine thing you dwell on, go somewhere else. It's
really, really easy. Honest. You just click the little "x" in
the corner of your browser and *poof* the offending, big, mean and nasty
site has disappeared.
I pay for this site. It's mine. That
means I can use it for whatever the hell I want to. Don't like it if I'm
bitching about something in my life? Oh fucking well. Go somewhere else.
Think I'm stupid for expressing my thoughts? Too fucking bad, don't read
them. Somewhere along the line, someone forgot this simple fact: Live
and let live Don't like me, cool, fine, whatever, I don't care.
This journal is NOT for you. It's for me. I'm not in it for popularity or
fame or anything stupid like that. I write it because I need to write and
express myself and get things out of my head sometimes. So read or don't,
it doesn't matter, but don't waste my time (or yours) bitching about it.
*gets off soapbox*
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Friday, March 04, 2005
Depths
Dark and dank. Deep. Times are bad. Things hurt. Physically and emotionally. I feel myself sliding down again; slipping into that dark place within me. Where it hurts and where I find myself rubbed to raw nerves and overloadings of sensations to the point where none of it makes any sense anymore. Where I can't seperate any of it and it all just overwhelms me. Where I find myself drowning in this inky blackness. And I seriously, deeply and frightenly find myself daydreaming not about light and life, but death and bringing an end to it all. I look around and see these insurmountable obsticals; the piles that crush me over and over. Lacking money for rent, facing losing my cable again, charges and unexpected expenses, no money for doctors, pain, suffering, inability to buy food, to keep my head above these waves that just crush at me; pounding me again and again until I am battered and senseless. Everything comes on at once as it always does; too much to handle, too much to bear. It's hell and I am so tired of it all. I find I just can't handle it. And I can feel the pieces shattering within me. Fracturing. I am broken. And I break further. And it hurts. It hurts so badly. I can feel these slithers inside my mind and I know they are slowly driving me mad. Fully, and without metaphor; stripped of any fancy words, mad. I am losing my mind from this depression. From this sorrow. You hear words like "nervous breakdown" and you wonder how deep the pain can go before you really are what they would label you if they had a hint of how deep the suffering and the creeping insanity goes. Do those words mean anything to anyone? Depression doesn't mean anything to people these days...it's just a word that gets tossed around. It's a catch-all; a blurb; a sensational headline used to the point of meaninglessness. But for those who feel it; experience it; it engulfs you and your life. It encompasses every moment and every thought is tainted by it's darkness. How do I put into words the sensation of wanting to scream and scream as long as and loud as I can until I can't draw air to scream any longer? How can I express the burning need to close my eyes and literally never open them again? How do I put forth the seriousness of my unending need to shut down, turn off and stop being here in reality. I don't want it and it gets harder every moment to continue to hold on. It's like I hold on out of habit rather then real desire. I want these fractures to just reach that critical point where it fully and completely breaks me. So I don't have to feelit anymore. It's so wrong to say part of me was excited about the pain this morning. Excited in the sick hope that it would kill me in my sleep. I say this and it sounds so absurd, and it sounds so fake but part of me really hoped that it would be an easy way out. Oh gods I hurt. I don't want to feel any of this anymore. I can't do it. I just can't. I can't I can't.
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