big fat juicy zee steak
get out your rosaries. it's professional help time for zee's depression
yeah, you really don't need to know this but since some people who care about me are out there wondering what happened to me, and i'm out here stealing the internet at eee and pee, i will indulge. i'll spare the heartless with a cut.
so sunday i was pretty proactive about wanting to end this wonderful life. [that would have been it for me. kaput. nice, firm, beautiful tits up and poop in my undies.] something inherent in me is making it impossible for me to remain happy. i can't blame the tears on gentry because he isn't worth all of them, but it's certainly something i fixate on when i'm feeling down. what meant a lot to me, what i pinned self-betterment and change on was taken away from me because of my behavior. are you having feelings of guilt and hopelessness? right on. i thought maybe having a chance to talk to him about it, if he still cared enough to understand that i am the problem and wanted to help me out he would get back to me. unfortunately my attempts at that end in "i can't talk to you now" or "who is this? *click*" or "who is this? he doesn't want to talk to you." this doesn't help my situation, but i shower, shave, pretty myself up and keep busy the best i can, trying not to forget that i need to eat and drink and make myself a priority. by taking a trip to western psyche to get some pretty words and some yummy pills. [hm, i'm doubting i should stay at the apartment tonight but my phone is down and it might be too late for anyone to come get me.] i'm pushin' on. [i'll just take benadryl and have sean hit me in the face with a pillow for while] if that doesn't work, and i have to beat my temple to a pulp keeping my memories, dreams, hopes, regrets, bashing and whining off my mind, hell...i can always get reconstructive surgery. pitch in, droogs? i thought not. if you read this, your caring and/or curiousity are appreciated.
~zeesteak
p.s. crazy people snore like lumberjacks.
yeah, you really don't need to know this but since some people who care about me are out there wondering what happened to me, and i'm out here stealing the internet at eee and pee, i will indulge. i'll spare the heartless with a cut.
so sunday i was pretty proactive about wanting to end this wonderful life. [that would have been it for me. kaput. nice, firm, beautiful tits up and poop in my undies.] something inherent in me is making it impossible for me to remain happy. i can't blame the tears on gentry because he isn't worth all of them, but it's certainly something i fixate on when i'm feeling down. what meant a lot to me, what i pinned self-betterment and change on was taken away from me because of my behavior. are you having feelings of guilt and hopelessness? right on. i thought maybe having a chance to talk to him about it, if he still cared enough to understand that i am the problem and wanted to help me out he would get back to me. unfortunately my attempts at that end in "i can't talk to you now" or "who is this? *click*" or "who is this? he doesn't want to talk to you." this doesn't help my situation, but i shower, shave, pretty myself up and keep busy the best i can, trying not to forget that i need to eat and drink and make myself a priority. by taking a trip to western psyche to get some pretty words and some yummy pills. [hm, i'm doubting i should stay at the apartment tonight but my phone is down and it might be too late for anyone to come get me.] i'm pushin' on. [i'll just take benadryl and have sean hit me in the face with a pillow for while] if that doesn't work, and i have to beat my temple to a pulp keeping my memories, dreams, hopes, regrets, bashing and whining off my mind, hell...i can always get reconstructive surgery. pitch in, droogs? i thought not. if you read this, your caring and/or curiousity are appreciated.
~zeesteak
p.s. crazy people snore like lumberjacks.