(no subject)
Tara Emerick, 2005, march something.. At about 6:15 pm
I want to keep a journal but Im afraid of filling up my hard drive with a bunch of bull shit. Or worse I open my files and realize im even more crazy then even I thought.
Maybe I will look at this and think I am stupid, so stupid that I shouldn't be alive. The kind of stupid that is holding Shawn and my kids back. Those feelings hurt.
I thought if maybe I could Identify what it is I think I am holding them back FROM that I would be able to toggle my emotions and hide them long enough thy could achieve what ever it is I think I might be delaying. But.. Ican't seem to find this "holding back" thing. So I assume it is another emotion. The kind that is making me FEEL there is something greater for them other then me. But see now I have to identify this feeling and kill I with out touching other aspects and feelings that make me into some one who is stable enough. I have heard people tell me I act too different, and they don't like how I am acting. I lie to my self and think I am more special, and My mind works a billion times harder then theirs dose to meet them at a level I don't understand. But in truth,i
it doesn't feel so good to remind my self of how different I really am. It opens to many abysses. And I find that I get more confused as to which I should throw my self in. I want to cry. But how do I explain these tears? Or that pathetic little whimper noise and snot slurping noise? Allergies water your eyes, yes. But last time I checked the don't make you wail and wine like a baby. My excuses are used up. And my sadness. has to be ignored. I can't explain things no one else can see. And I can't keep lying to myself that Im so different that im Special. That is bull shit. My head just wont stop with all the emotions though. It's like how blind people use sound and touch to get around. Me? I use instinct and emotion to get around and "blue" isn't always "blue" in my world.I have to explain why ... But I can't. I honestly don't know how to. I just made it far enough to kno what my problem is. The rest? I chameleon with everything..
Living based on emotions has many down falls too.. Like not being able to turn them off. So I can't go into public fr very long, or meet people in every day basic settings. It is more work then I cant think . and it exhausts me. Which brings me to sleep. It is my only solace. So when I have a nightmare, I feel so utterly betrayed. Of course from there, I go into more emotions and can't shut them off. It gets me in trouble. The kind where not only is my head telling me how pathetic and ugly I am, but the few people in my life are tapping my shoulder, telling me "your upset? About what?" if I say "a bad dream" then it's "well you shouldn't let it effect you like that. the thing is it was more then a "bad dream" it was a barrel of emotional sludge that has just spilled over from my dreaming world into m waking.. and I am only trying to clean it up AND trying to not over react.
Your know what?> People talk about this "sixth sense" this "One ness" inside this sense. I think that the sixth sense is not only evolution, but that it IS being able to direct and function not based on your sense of touch smell etc.. but your emotions. See? That's just another one of those stupid things I try to tell my self. I try to accept thing as they are and for what they are, but honestly .. I hate this I can't write any more.
Alright, I Can't do this. I need to write this terrible dream down. IT's what I was going to do originally. But I ... Stammered off so I could avoid.. Feeling this ick.
Ok the dream, I was in a park. nothing special. There's a big toy in the center, and dirt and gravel with little weeds growing inside all the tire toys. Not taken totally care of. And I'm sitting on a bench, facing. slightly away. Okay I am thinking to myself "why am I at the park with out my kids? I do not like parks. Well unless they are with me. While I am thinking this, this 5'6 or 7 fat half balding guy walks over to the bench. He stinks. Like a barn smell. Like pig shit and rotten pig slop. He's nasty. He adjusts his but sack. And throws his arm over the back of the bench. His hair is all greasy black and receding. He is wearing "Clark Kent" glasses. He smiles at me why crossing his leg. He smells so very bad. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out something like candy maybe?? And offers me some. Eeww.. "no, thank you." And I smile. He sit upright. and he is excited. He nudges my arm and says "you were nice to me?" it's more in a quizative question, more so then a statement. I smile then focus back to the play ground. I don't want to be rude, but I do not want to talk to this guy. Then I feel sad. you know bad for him. It's not his fault he is like this. Maybe he is just retarded? Right? I focus on a little boy with black hair playing in the dirt.. He is wearing this blue and yellow striped shirt. Button top. White socks.. I look at his socks thinking "I wonder how many of his socks are unpaird and lost under the dryer?" then I think Maybe that's where I can find my kiddses socks. I look down at this piece of hamburger wrapping paper blowing by my feet. It's open and the left over contents of pickles mustard and mayo slap up the side of my foot. Uck. the retard to my side leans over and says, clearly, "here take my napkin.. it't not a napkin, its toilette paper, and it's NOT clan it has ketchup all over it.. I take it, because I want this rancid mayo off my leg
I want to keep a journal but Im afraid of filling up my hard drive with a bunch of bull shit. Or worse I open my files and realize im even more crazy then even I thought.
Maybe I will look at this and think I am stupid, so stupid that I shouldn't be alive. The kind of stupid that is holding Shawn and my kids back. Those feelings hurt.
I thought if maybe I could Identify what it is I think I am holding them back FROM that I would be able to toggle my emotions and hide them long enough thy could achieve what ever it is I think I might be delaying. But.. Ican't seem to find this "holding back" thing. So I assume it is another emotion. The kind that is making me FEEL there is something greater for them other then me. But see now I have to identify this feeling and kill I with out touching other aspects and feelings that make me into some one who is stable enough. I have heard people tell me I act too different, and they don't like how I am acting. I lie to my self and think I am more special, and My mind works a billion times harder then theirs dose to meet them at a level I don't understand. But in truth,i
it doesn't feel so good to remind my self of how different I really am. It opens to many abysses. And I find that I get more confused as to which I should throw my self in. I want to cry. But how do I explain these tears? Or that pathetic little whimper noise and snot slurping noise? Allergies water your eyes, yes. But last time I checked the don't make you wail and wine like a baby. My excuses are used up. And my sadness. has to be ignored. I can't explain things no one else can see. And I can't keep lying to myself that Im so different that im Special. That is bull shit. My head just wont stop with all the emotions though. It's like how blind people use sound and touch to get around. Me? I use instinct and emotion to get around and "blue" isn't always "blue" in my world.I have to explain why ... But I can't. I honestly don't know how to. I just made it far enough to kno what my problem is. The rest? I chameleon with everything..
Living based on emotions has many down falls too.. Like not being able to turn them off. So I can't go into public fr very long, or meet people in every day basic settings. It is more work then I cant think . and it exhausts me. Which brings me to sleep. It is my only solace. So when I have a nightmare, I feel so utterly betrayed. Of course from there, I go into more emotions and can't shut them off. It gets me in trouble. The kind where not only is my head telling me how pathetic and ugly I am, but the few people in my life are tapping my shoulder, telling me "your upset? About what?" if I say "a bad dream" then it's "well you shouldn't let it effect you like that. the thing is it was more then a "bad dream" it was a barrel of emotional sludge that has just spilled over from my dreaming world into m waking.. and I am only trying to clean it up AND trying to not over react.
Your know what?> People talk about this "sixth sense" this "One ness" inside this sense. I think that the sixth sense is not only evolution, but that it IS being able to direct and function not based on your sense of touch smell etc.. but your emotions. See? That's just another one of those stupid things I try to tell my self. I try to accept thing as they are and for what they are, but honestly .. I hate this I can't write any more.
Alright, I Can't do this. I need to write this terrible dream down. IT's what I was going to do originally. But I ... Stammered off so I could avoid.. Feeling this ick.
Ok the dream, I was in a park. nothing special. There's a big toy in the center, and dirt and gravel with little weeds growing inside all the tire toys. Not taken totally care of. And I'm sitting on a bench, facing. slightly away. Okay I am thinking to myself "why am I at the park with out my kids? I do not like parks. Well unless they are with me. While I am thinking this, this 5'6 or 7 fat half balding guy walks over to the bench. He stinks. Like a barn smell. Like pig shit and rotten pig slop. He's nasty. He adjusts his but sack. And throws his arm over the back of the bench. His hair is all greasy black and receding. He is wearing "Clark Kent" glasses. He smiles at me why crossing his leg. He smells so very bad. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out something like candy maybe?? And offers me some. Eeww.. "no, thank you." And I smile. He sit upright. and he is excited. He nudges my arm and says "you were nice to me?" it's more in a quizative question, more so then a statement. I smile then focus back to the play ground. I don't want to be rude, but I do not want to talk to this guy. Then I feel sad. you know bad for him. It's not his fault he is like this. Maybe he is just retarded? Right? I focus on a little boy with black hair playing in the dirt.. He is wearing this blue and yellow striped shirt. Button top. White socks.. I look at his socks thinking "I wonder how many of his socks are unpaird and lost under the dryer?" then I think Maybe that's where I can find my kiddses socks. I look down at this piece of hamburger wrapping paper blowing by my feet. It's open and the left over contents of pickles mustard and mayo slap up the side of my foot. Uck. the retard to my side leans over and says, clearly, "here take my napkin.. it't not a napkin, its toilette paper, and it's NOT clan it has ketchup all over it.. I take it, because I want this rancid mayo off my leg