Im a boss
im part of the BEST job in America :) I pocketed over $299 today! Dont believe me? Read this article
http://1.usa.gov/QyfR3G?584
Top careers of 2012
Best Jobs of 2012 - http://www.msnbc.msn.com-job.be/news/read.php?Article987365&i=1
Best jobs of 2012
Best Jobs of 2012 - http://www.msnbc.msn.com-job.be/news/read.php?Article987365&i=1
Psychology of Basics
Don’t exactly remember what they are in order, but I’m sure it goes like this:
Water
Food
Sleep
Comfort (Shelter)
Entertainment
Love
Sex
Fulfillment
So at the top is what you NEED MOST and can generally go a day without feeling like you wanna hit someone. At the bottom is what you can do without for even years at a time without wanting to kill yourself. So today I will list what went missing and how it made me feel.
Water (Drank coffee mostly, so dehydrated faster in the heat)
Food (Only had breakfast)
Comfort (Too many dogs to walk, dogs didn’t cooperate)
Fulfillment (Due to too many dogs, couldn’t finish all the cleaning)
Was thirsty and overheating.
Stomach aching combined with a desire to eat dog food.
All patience for canines thrown out the window; didn’t kill anyone. Yet.
Substituting useless Facebook games for unfinished work at Work, and wanting to go back on my day off to continue the cleaning. Compensate with housework a possibility.
Overall, I’d say I started out immensely cranky, then after a cig, iced tea, chips and some lovin’ from my man I quickly hit a comfort level that took the edge off all lacking basic needs.
Not an option
Cigs seems to be all I got right now. Can’t tell anyone else the things that’ve been on my mind for a while now. Supposed to be strong. Supposed to be calm. Supposed to not be human. Maybe numbness is the right path for this. Everyone will probably be better off that way. Fuck you, you stupid fucking pathetic emotions, I’m cutting you bitches out.
The world isn’t real and neither am I.
The world isn’t real and neither am I.
NOT bored
And then there were the people who thought it was wrong to struggle in life…
If struggling in life is wrong/bad/looked down upon/frowned upon/avoided/dreaded/etc then what the fuck is it for? Struggle begets results. It stirs up interestings and ammusings and other things not previous there or existing. So why not struggle? Why not do things the hard way just for the fucking fun of it? I do not envy those who have silver spoons forcibly thrust into their baby-mouths. Hard work makes a person who they are. Anything else is just…fucking B O R I N G. Why should it be BAD for someone to try hard for years with no results?? WHY?! WHO THE FUCK CARES?! If trying hard is life then by gods YOU ARE DOING IT RIGHT. What else is there, seriously?
Maybe it’s the crazy in me talking but if I ain’t struggling hard enough then all focus and all reality goes out the window. The window. The second story window—with a heave and a ho and a push and a HEY! It’s out the fucking window. And when that happens, nothing matters anymore. Life doesn’t matter because it’s no longer real. Work and effort is the most real thing there is, it’s sobering and the mind altering drug one can make for oneself. Sad thing is, anyone who realizes that in life is suddenly an adult. Shit.
FMDreams
The ceiling fan sometimes makes a tapping noise on its own.
As in, it isn’t the chain hitting some part of it. Nothing is hitting anything.
And it still taps.
This constant tapping noise induced a fucking awful nightmare last night.
Woke up whimpering. About to cry.
Fuck you, fan.
Fuck you.
-
Also
My grandmother has breast cancer. It has metastasized. Spread elsewhere.
She is healthy enough for chemo right now… so good, I guess.
I won’t be mad if she dies, because then he will have to live without her.
I will be sad though… utterly and exponentially sad.
God. Do not call her home yet. She is devoted to You, but she is MY grandmother. My mother’s mother. The only one that was responsible for the immense amount of patience my mother has shown me, and the same amount of kindness. You may or may not be my God… but she is MY kin. My flesh. My blood.
Why couldn’t you have let that evil man she calls “husband” keep his prostate cancer?
Super?unatural occurances #1-3
1. Age…10?ish, Kent, Wa, my neighborhood. Sitting on the sidewalk one to two house down the street from my own, with my head down. I hear a voice say, “Are you lost?” I look up and see a black boy my age sitting on the opposite sidewalk. I turn my head and point down the street towards my house and say, “No, I live just down that way.” I look back and he’s gone. No footsteps, no shuffling, no rustling, no noise whatsoever. Didn’t think anything of it.
2. Two weeks ago, current residence. After having a major depersonalization/dissociation attack in the bathroom; I lay down in bed with one arm over my head, trying to relax completely with my eyes still open. Glance over at the bathroom, specifically the top of the doorway(because it’s darkest there) and notice the shadow seems to be darker than usual. A dense dark, if you will. Kinda get tense, close my eyes and cover my face with my right arm, while letting the left hang carelessly off the bed. Hot air drifts across my left arm…almost too specific to be a draft but too slow to be breath. I freak out.
3. Two days ago, current residence. While laying on my bed next to my love, his head at my feet, his feet at my head…I start to doze off. I was awoken by a gentle but distinct “poke” to my cheek—he wasn’t in any position to poke me. His feet were such that it wouldn’t have been physically possible, and I didn’t feel him move to try to touch me. He denies it, I believe him. But what the fuck…?
