Such A Good Dog...

I don't look in the mirror
I don't like what I see staring back at me
Everything is clearer
I'll never see what you see
It's not me
So beautiful and free
I'll never be what you need
Can't help at all
I was born so beautiful
But now I'm ugly

And I rot in my skin
As a piece of me dies everyday
I know I'm nothing
I know there's nothing I can say
To change
The judgement in their ways
I'll never be what you need
Can't help at all
My love was so beautiful
But now I'm ugly
Yeah...











Have you ever felt that some things are just completely unavoidable and inevitable?



Like, for instance, you know that the other night you had too much to eat and the next day you'd spend most of it in the bathroom?



That's how I feel about the slow death I'm going through on the inside.



There's nothing I can do to stop it. I always knew that at some point in my life, I'd become dead inside. I just didn't think it would happen so early.


Everything I look at is ugly and I want to destroy it. I can barely stand to be in the company of most people because I only want to just smash their faces in with a brick. I no longer do things because they enjoy me, but rather I do them out of compulsion. The most basic of actions (eating, bathing, etc) are only done because I know that at some point I have to do it.....and although I don't want to, I do it anyway. I can't even stand to hear my own voice or look at my own reflection in the mirror.


And the worst thing of all is that I've stopped caring about what happens to me on a daily basis. If I get severely injured, I don't care. If I get hauled off to jail for something, I don't care. I don't really have much to look forward to or live for. I don't have a significant other to come home to. I don't have a job that makes me feel good about myself. I don't have these things and I don't care if I have them or not, at this point.


And I'm sure most, if not all of you, don't care about what I'm saying.

I Have A Bone To Pick And There's Still Meat On It.

As you all know, I'm a voracious blogger and reader of blogs. Especially celebrity blogs. I have my favorites (Allison Mack, Brea Grant) and I try to check them out everyday, if possible. Well, today I was perusing Brea's blog and came across SoulPancake. Being that I trust Brea's taste more than Allison's (I love you Allison...but you're fucking insane sometimes...and Brea's tastes are a bit more similar to mine), I decided to give it a look.


SoulPancake is Rainn Wilson's site.




WIN.



So, I looked around some more and discovered that it's very similar to Allison & Brea's sites. And that make me think of something.


When the fuck did celebrities develop self-righteous streaks? When the fuck did they decide that we give a fuck whether or not they want to heal the world and make it a better place? And why are they telling me to go out and create art that they'll never look at or acknowledge?

Now I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea...I like it when some celebs do things like see a sick fan in the hospital or respond to fanmail personally....but I'm not cool with this new wave of philanthropy. Especially the ones that feel the need to adopt kids from other countries and alert the media about it. There's plenty of kids here that need adopting...but the ones from overseas are cuter & more tragic or something. And you definitely don't need to tell everyone what you're doing. Just shut the fuck up and do it.

I can honestly say that I miss the days of old Hollywood...when stars kept their politics to themselves and didn't tell people what they were reading or listening to. I miss that. There was a mystique to those old stars.


Eh. I'm babbling at this point and completely forgot the point of my blog.



Oh and comments are back on (due to massive amounts of complaints).

*Three Cheers*

Yay to the ONE person who responded to my previous blog.


*rolls eyes*

A State Of Hate

Within two months, I'm not going to be able to even leave my house. I won't be able to get a job. I won't be able to support myself, get food, cigarettes, medicine...nothing. I'm going to be fucked beyond fucked.

All because I made a mistake and I'm human.


I'm sick and fucking tired of being bent over the goddamn table and raped for my mistakes. Every single fucking time I screw up, I get hammered and chastised. And this time, I can't even pay for my mistakes...but I'm getting punished anyway.

"Hey, he's got no money. Oh, who cares...fuck him anyway! Make him miserable!"



All of this shit is making me not feel anything. I don't honestly care about anything anymore. I don't care if I live or die. I don't care if I'm sick or healthy. I don't care if people even like me anymore. I've been sucked dry. I've got nothing left to give. All this state has been doing to me is take, take, take....lie, lie, lie.....cheat, cheat, cheat.


So, in two months, I'm probably going to just...vanish. I don't know what I'm going to do or where I'm going to go......assuming I can even find somewhere to go.....because right now, I've got nowhere to go....no prospects for a better life. Nothing. I have no future now. All because of one...little...mistake.



*side note*


After this blog, I'm turning off the comment feature since most people either can't muster up the time to comment or keep saying the same thing.


So....comment or GTFO.


*end side note*

If You Have A Vagina, You Better Find Shelter.

Update 6/22/09: MEN - you need not apply. I just met the epitome of what a man should be - strong but sensitive, intelligent but fun, straightforward, honest, caring, political and spiritual, good at open communication without mind games, and he worships me. I doubt you will beat that order.



Too bad you had that and you passed it up ten years ago, in exchange for a.....*gasp*....skinny white boy. Shocker? I think not. Apparantly, skinny white boys are ALLLLLLL the rage!!!


Either way...


Good for you.

I'm glad you found a guy who worships you.


And thanks for the one-sided friendship. It's nice to know that you'll always "be there for me", except for when you're too busy riding his fucking cock to notice. Or when you're "too tired" from work to even have a conversation. Or when you're "too busy planting flowers".


Whatever.


I think this just proves that anything with a vagina lacks common sense, morals or the cognitive thought process.

And yes, this applies to ALL of you.


Each. And. Every. One. Of. You. Traitorous. Little. Harlots.


Fuck you all and fuck your inability to see a good thing in front of you and fuck you for settling for a warm cock.

You Know....

...if it wasn't for Henry Rollins, I'd have killed myself years ago.



Give up for the man, everyone.

Oh, To Speak Of Heinous Loathesome Things That Reek Of Treachery...

(the following blog...offensive....blah blah blah...imagery....read at your own risk)




Awww, isn't it cute? You ran off and hid. How typical of you.


"I can't hack it, I'm going to take my ball and go home!"


I don't think you quite understand the fact that you're an infection. A horrible disease masquerading as a person. I could cut your face off and all I'd see are maggots writhing over a leering pus covered skull. That's your true face. I wish that everyone could see it. But you took your ball and ran, like a good little girl lost. You stink of inadequacy, confusion and a life wasted. AIDS isn't even a good enough death for you.