beware,venting in progress! ;-x rubber bands and cat scratches
Angels with dirty faces(for those who don't know):
there's more to me than you ever will know
down here where the rest of us fell.
waste away nothing left to show
well i'm in
a perfect hell.
obsession has begun,possessed by destruction
how did i get so low?
believe me no one knows
sometimes i can't hold on, and no one can help me
i'm a walking delusion, deranged by confusion,
on the verge of destruction i cave in to abduction
then blood i'm bleeding,pulse won't stop racing just as my heart explodes.....(more but you get the gist of it)
grrrrrrrrrrahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh;klsjdafue4iorvnma,xcv;dj094weruioeqoirfjasdkl;fkasdjl;sdfjkla;jklasdf;jklasdf;586df213g546gf546213sdg
i just made a blue screen engluf my central processing unit, and i do not give a flying fuck!!!!
it has been a lovely morning!
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
so many f-bombs it beats Hiroshima, and who gives a shit!ruber bands and cat scratches
i hate alzhieme's and dementia, and the person it makes my father, and the person it makes my mother, and the person it makes me.rubber bands and cat scratches
dad's been okay lately, then this morning, shouting and yelling and swearing in my general direction, because i didn't do things he told me he was going to do, me replying and remaining calm through all of the commotion, and all i hear in return is"fine, fucking fine, fuck evrything."
my thoughts exactly, father dearest.rubber bands and cat scratches
that went on for about an hour and a half, then i got the honor of catching him as he collapses and falls down the stairs. as bad as i felt for him, i had to laugh, because all i could say was "timber".
then more yelling,"you made me do too much today, blah blah blah" so the mature person, that i am, i yell back. i don't even remember what i said, something i didn't need to say.
then i am getting him his pills, thinking back to nine months ago when he tried to end his life with the very narcotics i am touching...shivers...tears...moving on.rubber bands and cat scratches
two seconds with his head on his pillow, then he is asking me i fi have yet to finish reading the novel that he wrote last night. "yes, papa,it was wonderful." i give up. i fucking give up.
we all know he never wrote a novel.
sometimes i wish my life could be as blissfully fake and ignorant as his own, and then i remember tha tomorrow i will once again be the blunt of his anger as he cannot remember today. somehow that is my fault.
fuckfuck fuck fuck uf ckfukcukufck now all of the letters are scrambled.who gives a shit? not me, they all mean the same thing.
and now one of the lines in my older pems comes along..."and though your efforts are sincere, your autumn flowers never shall cease the flood of perennial teardrops."
moodswings and my baby brother is watching chralotte's web and i hear "father time", and now i am crying because Charlotte is dying and i see myself...
standing in a room arms outstretched..."papa!papa!papa!" i am crying, pleading with god to bring back the father i only got three years to really get to know.
i have friends i've known longer than that.
tears on the keyboard are falling through the cracks, as a type and they fall. eventually they shall cease.
holy fuck.
i think i feel better.
sort of.
if anyone has made it to the end of this session, i commend your bravery -or i tell you you need just as much help as i do.
maybe you get a thrill out of other's pain, like my sister the sadist. she calls herself that, which i find incredulously odd...
i am rmabling, but it's my journal, and i am entitled to a rambling.
i have to go check in on the master novelist.
i wonder how the novel ends.
there's more to me than you ever will know
down here where the rest of us fell.
waste away nothing left to show
well i'm in
a perfect hell.
obsession has begun,possessed by destruction
how did i get so low?
believe me no one knows
sometimes i can't hold on, and no one can help me
i'm a walking delusion, deranged by confusion,
on the verge of destruction i cave in to abduction
then blood i'm bleeding,pulse won't stop racing just as my heart explodes.....(more but you get the gist of it)
grrrrrrrrrrahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh;klsjdafue4iorvnma,xcv;dj094weruioeqoirfjasdkl;fkasdjl;sdfjkla;jklasdf;jklasdf;586df213g546gf546213sdg
i just made a blue screen engluf my central processing unit, and i do not give a flying fuck!!!!
it has been a lovely morning!
fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!
so many f-bombs it beats Hiroshima, and who gives a shit!ruber bands and cat scratches
i hate alzhieme's and dementia, and the person it makes my father, and the person it makes my mother, and the person it makes me.rubber bands and cat scratches
dad's been okay lately, then this morning, shouting and yelling and swearing in my general direction, because i didn't do things he told me he was going to do, me replying and remaining calm through all of the commotion, and all i hear in return is"fine, fucking fine, fuck evrything."
my thoughts exactly, father dearest.rubber bands and cat scratches
that went on for about an hour and a half, then i got the honor of catching him as he collapses and falls down the stairs. as bad as i felt for him, i had to laugh, because all i could say was "timber".
then more yelling,"you made me do too much today, blah blah blah" so the mature person, that i am, i yell back. i don't even remember what i said, something i didn't need to say.
then i am getting him his pills, thinking back to nine months ago when he tried to end his life with the very narcotics i am touching...shivers...tears...moving on.rubber bands and cat scratches
two seconds with his head on his pillow, then he is asking me i fi have yet to finish reading the novel that he wrote last night. "yes, papa,it was wonderful." i give up. i fucking give up.
we all know he never wrote a novel.
sometimes i wish my life could be as blissfully fake and ignorant as his own, and then i remember tha tomorrow i will once again be the blunt of his anger as he cannot remember today. somehow that is my fault.
fuckfuck fuck fuck uf ckfukcukufck now all of the letters are scrambled.who gives a shit? not me, they all mean the same thing.
and now one of the lines in my older pems comes along..."and though your efforts are sincere, your autumn flowers never shall cease the flood of perennial teardrops."
moodswings and my baby brother is watching chralotte's web and i hear "father time", and now i am crying because Charlotte is dying and i see myself...
standing in a room arms outstretched..."papa!papa!papa!" i am crying, pleading with god to bring back the father i only got three years to really get to know.
i have friends i've known longer than that.
tears on the keyboard are falling through the cracks, as a type and they fall. eventually they shall cease.
holy fuck.
i think i feel better.
sort of.
if anyone has made it to the end of this session, i commend your bravery -or i tell you you need just as much help as i do.
maybe you get a thrill out of other's pain, like my sister the sadist. she calls herself that, which i find incredulously odd...
i am rmabling, but it's my journal, and i am entitled to a rambling.
i have to go check in on the master novelist.
i wonder how the novel ends.