A post of woe for woe post seekers.
Warning: The following contains copious amounts of depression, anxiety, worry, self-doubt, disgusting sentimentality, general selfishness, and dustpans. It is a compilation of my "world", such as I can recall it, from the last miserable depressed post I made.
So, the past two weeks?
Maybe.
Dustpan story: I called my manager up at the front desk to ask for a dustpan and three types of bags (for those of you who don't go into liquor stores on a regular basis, it's just common sense - you have different size bags for different size bottles). He proceeded to give me a lecture on types of bags. At the end of this we summarized. "So you need 20s, 12s, and a dustpan." "Right."
Then he completely forgot about it. It was hilarious.
____
Angst, misery, emo kid me:
It's generally agreed upon that cool kids don't post things like their angst on the internet for people to see, as this is a practice common to lower organisms such as emo kids. Logic will therefore conclude that I am an emo kid. I am sorry to have failed you all.
However, I appreciate hugs.
For about a month and a half now, I've dealt with the loss of my father. I am only just now, however, beginning to deal with the loss. At times, it feels like I'm coming apart. I don't have the words for it. I see his picture downstairs on our coffee table and I start to cry. My boyfriend mentions something he said or did, and I start to cry. Random crying incidents have become very much a common part of my life. Nothing major, like explosive sobbings and flingings of objects..but I've had to leave rooms with people in them so I can have a moment to calm down.
I'm doing it now, too. The biggest thing is that I try to hold it in because I feel like I'll bring people down, and I don't want people being down around me when I'm so down myself. I mean I don't want them to be down anyway, but. I don't want to be surrounded by unhappiness when I'm unhappy. It's not as bad as some people, who hold it all in like a balloon getting ready to pop. There's no point in acting that way; it'd just make me sick with ulcers. But I haven't...poured it out. It's like I'm not ready. The right time hasn't come. I've wanted to, but there's never been any point when it would have had meaning. It's very confusing to me. It feels like at some point in the past month, I should have sat down, grabbed the nearest warm body, and bawled.
Aside: The Day the Earth Stood Still was a -good- movie for its time. By which I mean, it was made in fucking 1951 and I love Gort. They've raped it.
that man is dressed in aluminum foil pajamas, ladies and gentlemen.
"We visit you in peace, and good will!"
*BLAM*
"FUCK ALL YALL MONKEYS."
He sounds so gay. "Gort! Declitto Crosco!"
On the other hand, I have hopes that as it is, the new movie would be at least entertaining. Minus Keanu Reeves. Because from watching him in the trailors - he ruins the movie.
Actually, I'll just call that the end of my post. :D
So, the past two weeks?
Maybe.
Dustpan story: I called my manager up at the front desk to ask for a dustpan and three types of bags (for those of you who don't go into liquor stores on a regular basis, it's just common sense - you have different size bags for different size bottles). He proceeded to give me a lecture on types of bags. At the end of this we summarized. "So you need 20s, 12s, and a dustpan." "Right."
Then he completely forgot about it. It was hilarious.
____
Angst, misery, emo kid me:
It's generally agreed upon that cool kids don't post things like their angst on the internet for people to see, as this is a practice common to lower organisms such as emo kids. Logic will therefore conclude that I am an emo kid. I am sorry to have failed you all.
However, I appreciate hugs.
For about a month and a half now, I've dealt with the loss of my father. I am only just now, however, beginning to deal with the loss. At times, it feels like I'm coming apart. I don't have the words for it. I see his picture downstairs on our coffee table and I start to cry. My boyfriend mentions something he said or did, and I start to cry. Random crying incidents have become very much a common part of my life. Nothing major, like explosive sobbings and flingings of objects..but I've had to leave rooms with people in them so I can have a moment to calm down.
I'm doing it now, too. The biggest thing is that I try to hold it in because I feel like I'll bring people down, and I don't want people being down around me when I'm so down myself. I mean I don't want them to be down anyway, but. I don't want to be surrounded by unhappiness when I'm unhappy. It's not as bad as some people, who hold it all in like a balloon getting ready to pop. There's no point in acting that way; it'd just make me sick with ulcers. But I haven't...poured it out. It's like I'm not ready. The right time hasn't come. I've wanted to, but there's never been any point when it would have had meaning. It's very confusing to me. It feels like at some point in the past month, I should have sat down, grabbed the nearest warm body, and bawled.
Aside: The Day the Earth Stood Still was a -good- movie for its time. By which I mean, it was made in fucking 1951 and I love Gort. They've raped it.
Click to viewthat man is dressed in aluminum foil pajamas, ladies and gentlemen.
"We visit you in peace, and good will!"
*BLAM*
"FUCK ALL YALL MONKEYS."
He sounds so gay. "Gort! Declitto Crosco!"
On the other hand, I have hopes that as it is, the new movie would be at least entertaining. Minus Keanu Reeves. Because from watching him in the trailors - he ruins the movie.
Actually, I'll just call that the end of my post. :D