What The Cat Dragged In
It's me. I've had some recent talks about this journal. It got me thinking. And I may post here, more often. I don't know. I did tell someone about this journal. She's only the second person I've let know I'm on here. The first, being the only person who's ever read this thing, besides me. The ex-girlfriends (Known as: "Tatyanas") will not find out about this thing. . Not without me going O.J. on them, anyway. I've stayed away from here on purpose. I didn't want to rely on this thing too much, in case it was discovered. I didn't want to feel a loss if I had to pull the plug on this thing. But, enough time has passed for me to feel more comfortable.
My how things have changed since I last updated here. . . well, not really. Tara still gets on my nerves. But then again, I fucked the hell out of her cousin. Mmmmmm virgin! *drools* I was amused. Whatever. Tara was gone and not coming back. Buuuut, I found out what she came back for. A little revenge, and a new boyfriend. [Who isn't me, of course!] *sigh*
To be honest, she and I bored the living hell out of each other. I seem to date the same girl over and over again. The immature, obnoxious type who wants to "do things", but then when I suggest something they turn me down. "Hey, wanna go to a club?" "Nah, I'm not in the mood to be around people." What kind of shit is that? You're sitting at my house doing a fucking crossword puzzle!!!! get out and DO SOMETHING! You know it's bad when I am the one who wants to go the fuck out.
I thought of fucking the cousin again, out of spite. But no. I don't want to do that to her. I was her first. There's no reason I should be a dick to her. . Even if she was lying to my face, and covering for her cousin. "I just found out a couple days ago!" Meanwhile, he came over and met the family.
Damnit! >_< EVERY TIME I get on here, I complain about the dumbest shit. That's another reason why I stay away. This "freedom" just makes me wanna vent the shit that doesn't really matter. I don't actually care that Tara is with someone else. I do care that she used my computer to communicate with her actual boyfriend while she was in my house. And then she'd let me plow her fucking field, like I'm just some . . *deep breath* I didn't get to yell at her, so there's a lot of "Unfinished Business".
Story of my life. In the future, I need to actually be less guarded than in the past. I know. Usually at this point, I'm talking about being more guarded. but I think that has been part of the problem with my past relationships. The more time I spend with the person, the more consumed with bitterness I become over whatever huge bit of unspoken thing stands between us and happiness. Tara was married, and slightly dumb. . Yet, she was VERY self-centered. The part that bothered me most, [at first] was the fact that she was married. She was essentially rooming with him, and occasionally he'd crawl into her bed and ass-fuck her. Huzzah.
But . . at least I didn't have to constantly see her wearing his ring.
Of course, she's not the most loyal of people. As I found out. In the end, I'm much better off without her. I don't have to sit at the kitchen table while her and my mother did the fucking soap opera crossword puzzles. Not to mention, I don't have to sit in the room with her, her cousin, and my mother all smoking at me at once. I fucking HATE smokers! Selfish bastards. If they were better people, they'd have the decency to be a drunk and only slowly kill themselves. I don't remember being weak enough to take up smoking. And why on earth would someone want to smoke the same brand that my mother smokes? Even my mom was creeped out by that. YUCK! That killed the sex real quick. Though, I'm guessing that was the point. . Dirty bitch.
I have to find out when Gerald's coming back. He said it would be soon. *sigh* I wish I had more strength. I wish -- I wish I was more. I want to be able to run a Rushtya game, but I cannot find the strength. I cannot focus my mind enough to write, or do what I need to do to prepare to run a role-playing game the way I want to. I also want to work on "Silent City", that's what I named my comic book genre writing project-thing. It is a very frustrating life I live. Ideas cannot seem to translate into coherent thought. I have SO MANY THINGS that I want to do. And I can't do any of them. It's no longer a matter of "not enough energy", it's simply "no energy". When I remember my meds, I'm relatively sane . . except for that one day recently. [I have NEVER drooled that much in all my life! That's all I've got to say about that.] Yet, it's like I've got no soul. I am the opposite of Pinnochio. What a depressing thought.
My how things have changed since I last updated here. . . well, not really. Tara still gets on my nerves. But then again, I fucked the hell out of her cousin. Mmmmmm virgin! *drools* I was amused. Whatever. Tara was gone and not coming back. Buuuut, I found out what she came back for. A little revenge, and a new boyfriend. [Who isn't me, of course!] *sigh*
To be honest, she and I bored the living hell out of each other. I seem to date the same girl over and over again. The immature, obnoxious type who wants to "do things", but then when I suggest something they turn me down. "Hey, wanna go to a club?" "Nah, I'm not in the mood to be around people." What kind of shit is that? You're sitting at my house doing a fucking crossword puzzle!!!! get out and DO SOMETHING! You know it's bad when I am the one who wants to go the fuck out.
I thought of fucking the cousin again, out of spite. But no. I don't want to do that to her. I was her first. There's no reason I should be a dick to her. . Even if she was lying to my face, and covering for her cousin. "I just found out a couple days ago!" Meanwhile, he came over and met the family.
Damnit! >_< EVERY TIME I get on here, I complain about the dumbest shit. That's another reason why I stay away. This "freedom" just makes me wanna vent the shit that doesn't really matter. I don't actually care that Tara is with someone else. I do care that she used my computer to communicate with her actual boyfriend while she was in my house. And then she'd let me plow her fucking field, like I'm just some . . *deep breath* I didn't get to yell at her, so there's a lot of "Unfinished Business".
Story of my life. In the future, I need to actually be less guarded than in the past. I know. Usually at this point, I'm talking about being more guarded. but I think that has been part of the problem with my past relationships. The more time I spend with the person, the more consumed with bitterness I become over whatever huge bit of unspoken thing stands between us and happiness. Tara was married, and slightly dumb. . Yet, she was VERY self-centered. The part that bothered me most, [at first] was the fact that she was married. She was essentially rooming with him, and occasionally he'd crawl into her bed and ass-fuck her. Huzzah.
But . . at least I didn't have to constantly see her wearing his ring.
Of course, she's not the most loyal of people. As I found out. In the end, I'm much better off without her. I don't have to sit at the kitchen table while her and my mother did the fucking soap opera crossword puzzles. Not to mention, I don't have to sit in the room with her, her cousin, and my mother all smoking at me at once. I fucking HATE smokers! Selfish bastards. If they were better people, they'd have the decency to be a drunk and only slowly kill themselves. I don't remember being weak enough to take up smoking. And why on earth would someone want to smoke the same brand that my mother smokes? Even my mom was creeped out by that. YUCK! That killed the sex real quick. Though, I'm guessing that was the point. . Dirty bitch.
I have to find out when Gerald's coming back. He said it would be soon. *sigh* I wish I had more strength. I wish -- I wish I was more. I want to be able to run a Rushtya game, but I cannot find the strength. I cannot focus my mind enough to write, or do what I need to do to prepare to run a role-playing game the way I want to. I also want to work on "Silent City", that's what I named my comic book genre writing project-thing. It is a very frustrating life I live. Ideas cannot seem to translate into coherent thought. I have SO MANY THINGS that I want to do. And I can't do any of them. It's no longer a matter of "not enough energy", it's simply "no energy". When I remember my meds, I'm relatively sane . . except for that one day recently. [I have NEVER drooled that much in all my life! That's all I've got to say about that.] Yet, it's like I've got no soul. I am the opposite of Pinnochio. What a depressing thought.