I'm worst at what I do best.
I am not in the business of making enemies. I never was, I never will be, but currently there are a specific 2 people in this life that are steadily eating away at my very last nerve. Both of whom know who they are, and one of which that clandestinely reads my journal when they have every reason nowadays not to. The other person, someone I knew as a boy that regrettably I met further down the line in life. I naively once insisted, adamantly, that if someone in your life was once considered close enough to have a relationship, friend or other, that there never was a reason to let that go. That, somehow, some way, there would always be a way to stay close, and that someone you once considered that close should never be forgotten or turned away. I was wrong. There are just people in the world that will never respect anything close to them, people who will paint on a deceitful smile and in your presence pretend to like you, when in reality, it's anything but. I am so sick and tired of people who continuously speak out against my relationship and show little to no respect for my love by time and time again talking behind my back and saying things that, face to face, you lack the mettle and the nerve to say. I say this here because the people I speak of, conniving as could be, do this with someone who will not turn them away, who will sit back and allow it to happen without berating you like you deserve. You both wonder why and lament pathetically why you can never find happiness, why you can never find someone who truly wants to be with you. I find it humorous that at this point in your lives, you're both immature enough to still wonder why. I would love nothing more than to leave you both behind once and for all, to leave you both to rot in your own personal hell of self-piteous behavior and self-loathing. If I never again see either of you in this lifetime, it will be too soon. If the thought of either of you ever comes across my mind ever again, it will not be of curiosity, it will be of unadulterated pity, and that is more than you deserve. Time and time again, you have been given chances of redemption, chances to make something of yourselves other than hiding behind someone who no matter what will try and look at you as good and decent people. I hope you one day you come to the final realization that you are not, that you poison the people you involve yourselves with. You are nothing but a depressing shadow in this life, and I will leave this at that.
I recently received an e-mail from my father from Saudi Arabia. Aside from complaining about the state of things, apparently he received an injury in his leg. Afterwards, he made a comment insinuating that he felt his health would eventually fail him. As I pondered this over, I admittedly felt inner-turmoil. If I were to turn to my mother and her thoughts, she would scowl and ask where my father was when I was first hit with my own illness, where his support was, financially and emotionally, and rightfully so, he was no where to be found. I reflect on the days when my father would show up once every few months to pick me up and take me to see a movie, and during those times, I was in denial of the truth of the matter, that my father never really wanted to be just that, a father figure. I would converse with him, laugh with him about movies or wrestling or books, and I wanted nothing more than to have him approve of me, to know that he honestly cared for who I was as a person. I wanted to think that he wanted to be my father, but it took times of long hardship and broken promises for me to finally realize this. If, and finally when, my father passes from this life to the next, I will have no tears, no immediate feelings of sorrow. I can't, and I won't allow myself to mourn over someone that wasn't. I replied to my father's e-mail, and asked that he take care of himself and try and stay healthy. It was more than he deserved, and I know that, but part of me, a very small part, still hopes to maintain and salvage the little that is left of our relationship. I'm sure that one day, i'll come to terms and cope with things as they are and always have been with my father, but still growing, and still a young man, i'm conflicted with myself over how I should feel. I suppose it's just another example of growing up.
I've not yet received the benefits that the court entailed in their ruling of my case, but as the attorney said over the phone, it would most likely take months before it would come. I've received a letter of confirmation that I will be receiving the benefits, but the letter neglected to prove any kind of proof of what i'll be receiving, aside from health insurance. This is my second chance at things, a chance to make do with improvements in my life, that which had been taken away by my illness almost 4 years ago. My mother, insisting that before I concentrate solely on my schooling, I should do something for myself as a reward. I intend on purchasing a Playstation 3 game console. I have always loved video games, ever since I was a boy in my heyday of playing in arcades against people older than me. About a year ago, my Playstation 2 console gave out, after about half a decade of owning it, so my playing games has stopped since then. My fiancee, graciously, has gotten different games for us both to play in our spare time together when I spend time with her. It has been immensely fun, in the moments which her and I would cuddle together on a couch, the feel of her warm body nestled between my arm and chest as I would take in her scent, warm and soft as spring itself. I could go on, and on, but i'll keep it short in simply saying that I treasure every moment I spend with her when her and I are alone. It doesn't matter if we're speaking, or if we're simply holding each other and silently cherishing our company. I have never felt so secure with someone in my entire life as when I hold her. I never want to lose that feeling with her. I love her, very much.
This past week has been rough, very rough. I came home from my fiancee's, and the morning after I awoke with my arms and legs covered in purpura, much like the early days of my illness. Fortunately, within a week or two, it fades and heals, but it simply proves that there hasn't been a day in my life in the past almost 4 years that I have not bled internally. My mother has been such a support through everything, there are days she sends me poems and articles from various sources that empower those with illnesses. Not long ago, she sent me a poem written by a girl on an illness message board, where families go to share experiences and at times, give support and advice. When I read this poem for the first time, I cracked a smile and shook my head, i'll share it with you below. I admire the people in the world that have it worse off than I do, and still face each and every day with the strength and energy that perfectly healthy people lack. In other news, the whole Chicago being upset over not being picked by the Olympics is asinine and ridiculous. After not being chosen, there were stories of how they were saying that they will put the money towards improving educational standards and violence control. Well shit on me, you would have thought the people of Chicago would have thought to have done that years ago, instead of only doing it now that Chicago is in the news from being rejected as hosting the Olympics. It doesn't matter which political party you stand for, most of the politicians these days are complete idiots, and they reflect on a lot of the complete idiots that make up our society today. On that note, I need something positive today, so i'm going to go and get something to eat, i'm starved.
Alas, now I bask in the subconsciousness of my slumber.
"You stare and point,
at something new.
If I am a freak,
than so are you.
It's ok
that you dont understand
But I'm just like you,
with bumps on my neck, arms and hand.
If you stopped-
and looked beyond,
You'd see inside
and build a bond.
Instead you judged
and pass me by,
You laugh and stare
and make me cry.
This is me,
my heart is true
but, if I am a freak,
Than so are you."
---Kristianne---
I recently received an e-mail from my father from Saudi Arabia. Aside from complaining about the state of things, apparently he received an injury in his leg. Afterwards, he made a comment insinuating that he felt his health would eventually fail him. As I pondered this over, I admittedly felt inner-turmoil. If I were to turn to my mother and her thoughts, she would scowl and ask where my father was when I was first hit with my own illness, where his support was, financially and emotionally, and rightfully so, he was no where to be found. I reflect on the days when my father would show up once every few months to pick me up and take me to see a movie, and during those times, I was in denial of the truth of the matter, that my father never really wanted to be just that, a father figure. I would converse with him, laugh with him about movies or wrestling or books, and I wanted nothing more than to have him approve of me, to know that he honestly cared for who I was as a person. I wanted to think that he wanted to be my father, but it took times of long hardship and broken promises for me to finally realize this. If, and finally when, my father passes from this life to the next, I will have no tears, no immediate feelings of sorrow. I can't, and I won't allow myself to mourn over someone that wasn't. I replied to my father's e-mail, and asked that he take care of himself and try and stay healthy. It was more than he deserved, and I know that, but part of me, a very small part, still hopes to maintain and salvage the little that is left of our relationship. I'm sure that one day, i'll come to terms and cope with things as they are and always have been with my father, but still growing, and still a young man, i'm conflicted with myself over how I should feel. I suppose it's just another example of growing up.
I've not yet received the benefits that the court entailed in their ruling of my case, but as the attorney said over the phone, it would most likely take months before it would come. I've received a letter of confirmation that I will be receiving the benefits, but the letter neglected to prove any kind of proof of what i'll be receiving, aside from health insurance. This is my second chance at things, a chance to make do with improvements in my life, that which had been taken away by my illness almost 4 years ago. My mother, insisting that before I concentrate solely on my schooling, I should do something for myself as a reward. I intend on purchasing a Playstation 3 game console. I have always loved video games, ever since I was a boy in my heyday of playing in arcades against people older than me. About a year ago, my Playstation 2 console gave out, after about half a decade of owning it, so my playing games has stopped since then. My fiancee, graciously, has gotten different games for us both to play in our spare time together when I spend time with her. It has been immensely fun, in the moments which her and I would cuddle together on a couch, the feel of her warm body nestled between my arm and chest as I would take in her scent, warm and soft as spring itself. I could go on, and on, but i'll keep it short in simply saying that I treasure every moment I spend with her when her and I are alone. It doesn't matter if we're speaking, or if we're simply holding each other and silently cherishing our company. I have never felt so secure with someone in my entire life as when I hold her. I never want to lose that feeling with her. I love her, very much.
This past week has been rough, very rough. I came home from my fiancee's, and the morning after I awoke with my arms and legs covered in purpura, much like the early days of my illness. Fortunately, within a week or two, it fades and heals, but it simply proves that there hasn't been a day in my life in the past almost 4 years that I have not bled internally. My mother has been such a support through everything, there are days she sends me poems and articles from various sources that empower those with illnesses. Not long ago, she sent me a poem written by a girl on an illness message board, where families go to share experiences and at times, give support and advice. When I read this poem for the first time, I cracked a smile and shook my head, i'll share it with you below. I admire the people in the world that have it worse off than I do, and still face each and every day with the strength and energy that perfectly healthy people lack. In other news, the whole Chicago being upset over not being picked by the Olympics is asinine and ridiculous. After not being chosen, there were stories of how they were saying that they will put the money towards improving educational standards and violence control. Well shit on me, you would have thought the people of Chicago would have thought to have done that years ago, instead of only doing it now that Chicago is in the news from being rejected as hosting the Olympics. It doesn't matter which political party you stand for, most of the politicians these days are complete idiots, and they reflect on a lot of the complete idiots that make up our society today. On that note, I need something positive today, so i'm going to go and get something to eat, i'm starved.
Alas, now I bask in the subconsciousness of my slumber.
"You stare and point,
at something new.
If I am a freak,
than so are you.
It's ok
that you dont understand
But I'm just like you,
with bumps on my neck, arms and hand.
If you stopped-
and looked beyond,
You'd see inside
and build a bond.
Instead you judged
and pass me by,
You laugh and stare
and make me cry.
This is me,
my heart is true
but, if I am a freak,
Than so are you."
---Kristianne---