More news I suppose. MJ's grandmother has now passed away. I wrote in here last year maybe about how MJ's mother died, well, now the grandmother's gone too and I think how unfair it is that God's doing this. Or I don't know if he's doing this. I mean he is obviously doing this "The Lord giveth, the Lord taketh away", but why did he have to take both people within a year almost. It's like MJ has all this bad luck and I really don't like it because she's a great person with so much to give and here she gets dealt all these bad cards. I mean when does it end? How does she keep on going? I mean how can you after all these deaths that come. I'm sure if she's totalled up the number of people who have died in the past five years, that she'll lose count.
I got a call this Sunday unexpectedly. I guess it was a shot to the heart. The grandmother was a good woman, healthy too, so I expected her to live a long time. Sure she was in her 80's, but she looked like she could live until 100.
I haven't really felt like doing anything. I can't be there for MJ, not physically because we live in two different places. And sure she knows all this, but it still hurts me that I can't be there. I know life is like that and you just have to run with it, but doesn't mean I have to like it. It's hard doing anything and yes, I guess it's like losing somebody. I mean I wasn't related to this lady, but she means more to me than some idiots in my family. In a way she's more of a grandmother to me than one of my grandmothers. One I hardly knew, but she was alright. The other I knew more, and she was alright I guess. I didn't understand her. Maybe I was just too young. Maybe I didn't like the fact she enjoyed picking on my sister. I told you, my family's fucked up. I read that back in an entry I did.
It's hard to reach out to people. I mean there's so much death people want to hear about. Eventually they don't want to hear about it. The first couple of days, they want to console you and want you to talk about it but not really. After that, they're tired of hearing it because they don't want to know that life can get depressing. They want to live their own lives. I guess I can't blame them. I'm like that too sometimes. Maybe I was like that on Sunday, getting that call from MJ. I didn't mind talking about it. Took me by surprise. MJ knows that though.
What do I say to people though? It'd be different if it was someone I was related to. They could all relate to that. But if it's a person I know, that I've only seen twice? They don't get it and I can't explain it to them. I mean what do I say? My ex's grandmother passed away and it makes me sad? First, they're going to tell me, she's my ex and ex's are ex's. You don't go back. It's the rule. Ex's can't be friends. Second, she's not my family, so why do I care? Third, that's your ex's problem, they'll say, go get a drink and celebrate.
I don't want to celebrate. I want to comfort my friend. I want to leave this place, go over there and cook a dinner or something. Watch her eat, do dishes, and while she sleeps, read a good novel or something. Instead I'm here. I go to work where all they care about is making money and shafting other co-workers just so they can make more money. Not all of them are like that, but that's the atmosphere I get I guess. Why can't they just be happy with what they got? Life's too short. Just enjoy what you're making and stop trying to get more. What do you need with more? How much is enough? It's never enough you greedy bastards. I'm just happy to go, make a bit of cash, come home, and write. That's the life I want. What the fuck do I need a big screen TV for? What I do need a car for? I don't want to drive so fuck off. I don't need all that crap. Life's too short. I'm happy with what I have. I have good food and good friends. I mean what more can a person want? I have an okay family. Half are decent; the other half I couldn't care less, those selfish fuckers that they are. I mean why are they even still here. Some of them have one foot in the grave, but fuck, they're taking so long to die, it's annoying, and here this nice grandmother is gone and it's not fair because she's a cool lady. Take one of my idiot family members, Lord, I mean really. What about my aunt? I mean how long is she going to be a bitch? And hey, you have two to choose from!
It's hard to reach out to people. What am I going to say? They have their own lives and they don't want to talk to me. I can only write what I feel I guess. They only have so long that they can talk to me. I mean they're alright. I don't want to bring them down with this depressing shit. They want to be happy. I understand that. I can't even write a poem. Too much in my head to bring it out on the page I guess. So many things going through my head. Partially worried about MJ. She's surprisingly strong so far and I'm so grateful for that. Maybe the past deaths have made her stronger. Just wish I could be there.
I don't know. I don't see the point in being here. I'm trying to look for answers but the answers aren't there. I still have faith in God and things are working out for me, but how can I say to have faith in God when MJ's not getting a break. How many times has she prayed? I don't know. How many times have I prayed for her? So many times, nearly everyday. I don't know. It's not that I lack faith in God because my faith is still strong, I just wish I knew what to do. I don't know what to do. I have skills and I have all the necessary tools, I just don't know how to use them. I can produce magic but I don't know where to start and where to end. I want to be able to stand up, but how can I do that when all I want to do is just lie in bed and not wake up. Wake up to what? Wake up to a store clerk who doesn't look at you when you're buying chips? Or some car cutting in front of you when you're trying to head to work? Or the stupid security people again. Have to deal with their fake hellos and shit when they screwed me over. You know it's a little over a year since the final screw happened.
I always say if you don't know something, use what you do know to find out what you don't know. I guess I could do that.
Showing posts with label MJ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label MJ. Show all posts
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Sunday, April 11, 2010
A Year Later
My dad reminded me around April 1st or so that it was one year since my uncle passed away. And then I remembered I started this blog a year ago. So I thought I need to write an entry since it's a year later, but technically it's not a year later yet for this journal. April 17th will be the anniversary of this blog and I have to say things are fuckin' awesome. It's unbelievable but I made it. I had one hell of a year and I can't say too much specifically what happened, but those who know me personally will know. Like MJ knows. She's been so supportive of my bad year. It's strange. Well, it's not really strange because I know when someone you care about dies, it does affect you. But when it really happens, you don't realize it. The world looks so morbid, and I guess it becomes morbid or sad or listless or mean, and cruel like one of Mr. Burns's hounds from The Simpsons cartoon. Maybe you hear something in my voice now that tells you things are better because I do feel a lot better.
They had a special poetry reading this past Saturday and I went to it, despite my boss being away for vacation. Funny thing is around the same time last year he had a vacation. So I guess we've come full circle. I'm really happy. But it just didn't happen. It was a journey, a hard journey. I could not have done it without my friends though and God of course. I hadn't been to a poetry reading since that one time where I read that one poem and the whole night just didn't feel exciting. Being at that special poetry reading was different. It was a party, a celebration, a re-birth maybe. A lot of my outlook though has been more positive, it was like I knew I had to go in that direction. It made me realize that I had to make the choice to be happy. I mean there are things to feel miserable about, and things to feel happy about. They're both there, you just have to take your pick. Sometimes it's hard to feel happy, it really is, and that's when you write, or you hold on to your friends. And I mean your friends. Not those idiots who don't want to listen to you whine anymore or have better things to do, or wonder why you don't get over your grief already. Who the fuck cares whether it's been one day, one week, or one year? Everyone has their grieving process. I mean, okay if you're stuck in your room, with the walls painted black for a whole year, then yes, something's obviously wrong, but if you're still doing shit but you're still sad then that's alright because you're still trying to get through the world, and some people just don't understand that. It's like they don't want to be reminded that the other person's dead. But sometimes, people need someone to talk to about their grief. They don't want you to fix their grief, just they just want to talk. It's how they express themselves. Sometimes it's hard to write. I have those times that it's hard to write. So I can understand that. Sometimes the griever just wants to talk or have a drink with you. I mean nothing big, just listen or just keep the griever company. Okay too creepy, MJ just showed up. Maybe she needs to talk? Time for me to blow this post and see how she is. Later.
They had a special poetry reading this past Saturday and I went to it, despite my boss being away for vacation. Funny thing is around the same time last year he had a vacation. So I guess we've come full circle. I'm really happy. But it just didn't happen. It was a journey, a hard journey. I could not have done it without my friends though and God of course. I hadn't been to a poetry reading since that one time where I read that one poem and the whole night just didn't feel exciting. Being at that special poetry reading was different. It was a party, a celebration, a re-birth maybe. A lot of my outlook though has been more positive, it was like I knew I had to go in that direction. It made me realize that I had to make the choice to be happy. I mean there are things to feel miserable about, and things to feel happy about. They're both there, you just have to take your pick. Sometimes it's hard to feel happy, it really is, and that's when you write, or you hold on to your friends. And I mean your friends. Not those idiots who don't want to listen to you whine anymore or have better things to do, or wonder why you don't get over your grief already. Who the fuck cares whether it's been one day, one week, or one year? Everyone has their grieving process. I mean, okay if you're stuck in your room, with the walls painted black for a whole year, then yes, something's obviously wrong, but if you're still doing shit but you're still sad then that's alright because you're still trying to get through the world, and some people just don't understand that. It's like they don't want to be reminded that the other person's dead. But sometimes, people need someone to talk to about their grief. They don't want you to fix their grief, just they just want to talk. It's how they express themselves. Sometimes it's hard to write. I have those times that it's hard to write. So I can understand that. Sometimes the griever just wants to talk or have a drink with you. I mean nothing big, just listen or just keep the griever company. Okay too creepy, MJ just showed up. Maybe she needs to talk? Time for me to blow this post and see how she is. Later.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Dead
Oddly the last time I posted was in October 1st and since October 8th life for me has been hell. The police or security or whatever you want to call them, rent-a-cops, I really don't care, but they're idiots anyway. They finally screwed me over for the last time, but that's not what bothers me. What bothers me is they're still alive? And what bothers me is that all their body parts are still together. I'd like to cram a screwdriver or a drill in their ear or something and make them bleed the way they made me bleed by stabbing me in the back, and I still bleed from their betrayal. Why should I have to leave my job? My job is going well. It's just seeing them around, seeing them everyday doing their stupid patrols which is not really anything but trying to look pretty. They got swanky new uniforms now, but that still doesn't hide what they really are. Just a bunch of politicians really, that enjoy kickbacks from the rich and enjoy harassing the lowly.
I talked to Jack Kerouac the other day. He's my mentor. I asked why I should bother going to work, why I should bother getting up. I mean who really cares anymore. Why wouldn't I just put a bullet in my head? I mean what's the point of life anymore, when you just don't feel like going to the mall maybe? I could say going to work, but I do like work, it's just they're around and that's what makes work suck for me, otherwise I'd like work. So I asked Jack K., I ask him why I should bother getting up. Why? And he says to me "The writing man, the writing," so that's why I'm up today. That's why I'm writing in here again. This is what makes me live. I mean yeah, my friends and MJ, they all help me, but they can't be here for me everyday, 24/7. I mean they got their own lives, and MJ's not in the same city. I mean I wish she was, but she isn't so not like I can cry on her shoulder or maybe I still can but it still hurts because what can she do. There's only so much she can do to make me feel better and she's tried, but then it all boils down to me. I mean I have a great life other than work.
Why should I quit work? I mean yeah, I thought about it. Sure, MJ just suggested it like 10 minutes ago, but I thought about it before. I thought maybe I should go find another job, work in the post office like Bukowski did, even though he's tried to warn me about working there. I mean it sounds like a good gig. Someone else said I should work there too. Seems like a good gig.
Something to think about I guess. I feel better writing all this. One reason I can get up in the morning, to write. That's my only reason or main reason for living I guess. It's like the blood that flows through my veins. Without it, I'd be dead and I think that's true.
Those cops though, they screwed me over bad. They're not the friendly people you learn about when you're in Elementary School. No these guys are different. In it for themselves. They don't know what justice is. They're too scared, too small. Yes, I know the law's the law and I have every right to press charges, but they won't let me press charges.
Not all the security are bad. No, not all of them. Just the head guy, like the head vampire in The Lost Boys. Keifer Sutherland wasn't that bad. It was the head vampire that was. Him and his little minion. The little minion caused the most betrayal because him and I were close, but now we're not, and he's a Jesus lover and that prevents me from slicing his throat because you don't slice a man of Jesus even if he did betray you. Doesn't mean I have to like him though. I stay away from him, he stays away from me. Don't give me this crap about forgiveness. You just want me to forget you stabbed me in the back. No, I won't forgive you, I just won't know you. You want professionalism, dick, I'll give it to you. Professionalism is knowing your there, but not acknowledge your presence. So I won't acknowledge your presence, because really, why should I? When you caused me this grief.
Other than those idiots, that's why I'm alive, that's why I wake up today and go where I'm going. It's the writing man, the writing.
I talked to Jack Kerouac the other day. He's my mentor. I asked why I should bother going to work, why I should bother getting up. I mean who really cares anymore. Why wouldn't I just put a bullet in my head? I mean what's the point of life anymore, when you just don't feel like going to the mall maybe? I could say going to work, but I do like work, it's just they're around and that's what makes work suck for me, otherwise I'd like work. So I asked Jack K., I ask him why I should bother getting up. Why? And he says to me "The writing man, the writing," so that's why I'm up today. That's why I'm writing in here again. This is what makes me live. I mean yeah, my friends and MJ, they all help me, but they can't be here for me everyday, 24/7. I mean they got their own lives, and MJ's not in the same city. I mean I wish she was, but she isn't so not like I can cry on her shoulder or maybe I still can but it still hurts because what can she do. There's only so much she can do to make me feel better and she's tried, but then it all boils down to me. I mean I have a great life other than work.
Why should I quit work? I mean yeah, I thought about it. Sure, MJ just suggested it like 10 minutes ago, but I thought about it before. I thought maybe I should go find another job, work in the post office like Bukowski did, even though he's tried to warn me about working there. I mean it sounds like a good gig. Someone else said I should work there too. Seems like a good gig.
Something to think about I guess. I feel better writing all this. One reason I can get up in the morning, to write. That's my only reason or main reason for living I guess. It's like the blood that flows through my veins. Without it, I'd be dead and I think that's true.
Those cops though, they screwed me over bad. They're not the friendly people you learn about when you're in Elementary School. No these guys are different. In it for themselves. They don't know what justice is. They're too scared, too small. Yes, I know the law's the law and I have every right to press charges, but they won't let me press charges.
Not all the security are bad. No, not all of them. Just the head guy, like the head vampire in The Lost Boys. Keifer Sutherland wasn't that bad. It was the head vampire that was. Him and his little minion. The little minion caused the most betrayal because him and I were close, but now we're not, and he's a Jesus lover and that prevents me from slicing his throat because you don't slice a man of Jesus even if he did betray you. Doesn't mean I have to like him though. I stay away from him, he stays away from me. Don't give me this crap about forgiveness. You just want me to forget you stabbed me in the back. No, I won't forgive you, I just won't know you. You want professionalism, dick, I'll give it to you. Professionalism is knowing your there, but not acknowledge your presence. So I won't acknowledge your presence, because really, why should I? When you caused me this grief.
Other than those idiots, that's why I'm alive, that's why I wake up today and go where I'm going. It's the writing man, the writing.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Forgiveness?
Corrie connected to me via Facebook. You know, Facebook, how they have those statuses people put up. Well, Corrie had added a comment to one of her photos and she replied. It made me feel good that she actually talked to me and I guess she isn't ignoring me. She's just been very busy. I guess I have to. I wish we could reconnect or hook up again. She is like my sponsor, but the sad thing is, she's rarely there when I need her and sometimes I think she needs me more than I need her. She's been doing better with her life I think. God is taking her somewhere, so she says. I'm not sure where, so I guess we'll have to wait and see.
It makes me think about God. I think my faith is stronger now. It was days ago. Things at MJ's home are fine. She won't be out on the streets. Don't know all the details, but it doesn't matter because things are fine with her now and I can rest more easy. My neck aches and it's a bit stiff. It's getting better though. I think it's from all the stress from the past couple of weeks. With work and with MJ. It's just been deeply stressful and now that my work has settled down I think this is my body's way of telling me to take it easy. Now I have to take it easy.
So I've been thinking more about God, more actually about Satan, or the devil, if you like. You know how God's always helping you out, doing shit in your world so your life can get better. I wonder if there's another force, another negative force, called Satan trying to make your life miserable. Just when your life's getting good, Satan comes along and does shit. I try not to think about that too much because then life can get pretty dark. It's better to just think about God. Plus my life is pretty dark enough already as it is. You've read the blog, so you'd know.
I've also been thinking about forgiveness. There was something on a church program I saw on Sunday because I happen to be off that day this past Sunday. Well, this program I saw said we have to forgive everyone, that's how we move on. That's how we travel from the past to the future. It made a lot of sense, but there are just some people I can't forgive. There's someone I consider Satan's helper. She came into my life and destroyed it. I wonder though if she had her own illness to deal with or if she's just some crazed motherfucker. Should I forgive her and just move on? I don't know. I mean by being angry with her and trying to avoid her, that all arises from fear and I know fear is a bad thing. I can't just move on, can't forget about her. She ruined my life. I don't want to ruin her life. That's just crazy. I don't know what I want to do. I want to know she'll stop hurting me. That's what I want. But I have no way of knowing that. They say if you have God on your side, you don't have to worry. So what? I forgive her and move on? After all she's done to me. She's one of the most evil people that I've met on this planet, except for someone else.
I remember the good times we had. They were far and few. I remember how helpless I felt when I was with her. How lost I felt. Now, I don't feel so lost. A part of me prays she's doing better, but a part of me hopes she's dead. It's frustrating. That people who hurt me are still alive. But wishing them dead isn't good. There's just something bad about wishing them dead. Not so much that it's bad, but the fact that it still gives you pain. That's the bad part. And I don't want that pain. I want to move on, but I don't want her hurting me anymore. Is that bad? Is it bad for me to not want her hurting me anymore? She still hurts me. Still in the shadows. Whenever I take a drink, I see her. She's there. She wants to get inside and we want to destroy each other. She's like a big cock penetrating my vagina, just thrusting hard and it hurts bad, hurts real good, maybe I want it to hurt, maybe then I can feel something, maybe I feel I deserve it? It makes sense after all the crap that happened to me when I was a kid. But then I don't deserve it. I deserve God's love because God is out there with open arms. God is my new Father, my only one. But then there's that saying about forgiving your brother. If you don't forgive your brother how do you expect God to forgive you? I just do. I'm good, my brother's bad. But then I have to forgive my brother. But he hurt me. I want him to stop hurting me. I can't be sure he'll stop hurting me. One time I told him not to hurt me anymore and he said okay, he won't, but he did, and it hurt real bad. Maybe it's like being a Jew in a concentration camp with some German officer telling you one thing, but really he's going to take you for one of those gas showers and you're loathe to trust Germans again. That's how I feel. I can't trust that guy not to hurt me again. And then I feel the only way he won't hurt me is if he's dead, but I can't kill him. I can't kill these people and God won't kill them for me. It's annoying that he won't do that. So what am I supposed to do? It's better to just live your life and not worry about all that. But I have all this pain and it hurts and I don't know what to do. Don't want to end my life because my life's pretty good.
I don't think God's a hoax now though. I think he's real, tangible, something I can feel. God's alive and he's trying to help me, but I'm scared God, scared that if I let go, I'll get hurt again. I trust you, but I don't know, I'm scared to let go. Scared to open my heart to them, Lord, because if I do they're going to hurt me again, and it's just better not to open my heart to them, to be guarded because they hurt me. Will you help me find the way, Lord? Do I even want to find the way? I don't know.
I don't know.
It makes me think about God. I think my faith is stronger now. It was days ago. Things at MJ's home are fine. She won't be out on the streets. Don't know all the details, but it doesn't matter because things are fine with her now and I can rest more easy. My neck aches and it's a bit stiff. It's getting better though. I think it's from all the stress from the past couple of weeks. With work and with MJ. It's just been deeply stressful and now that my work has settled down I think this is my body's way of telling me to take it easy. Now I have to take it easy.
So I've been thinking more about God, more actually about Satan, or the devil, if you like. You know how God's always helping you out, doing shit in your world so your life can get better. I wonder if there's another force, another negative force, called Satan trying to make your life miserable. Just when your life's getting good, Satan comes along and does shit. I try not to think about that too much because then life can get pretty dark. It's better to just think about God. Plus my life is pretty dark enough already as it is. You've read the blog, so you'd know.
I've also been thinking about forgiveness. There was something on a church program I saw on Sunday because I happen to be off that day this past Sunday. Well, this program I saw said we have to forgive everyone, that's how we move on. That's how we travel from the past to the future. It made a lot of sense, but there are just some people I can't forgive. There's someone I consider Satan's helper. She came into my life and destroyed it. I wonder though if she had her own illness to deal with or if she's just some crazed motherfucker. Should I forgive her and just move on? I don't know. I mean by being angry with her and trying to avoid her, that all arises from fear and I know fear is a bad thing. I can't just move on, can't forget about her. She ruined my life. I don't want to ruin her life. That's just crazy. I don't know what I want to do. I want to know she'll stop hurting me. That's what I want. But I have no way of knowing that. They say if you have God on your side, you don't have to worry. So what? I forgive her and move on? After all she's done to me. She's one of the most evil people that I've met on this planet, except for someone else.
I remember the good times we had. They were far and few. I remember how helpless I felt when I was with her. How lost I felt. Now, I don't feel so lost. A part of me prays she's doing better, but a part of me hopes she's dead. It's frustrating. That people who hurt me are still alive. But wishing them dead isn't good. There's just something bad about wishing them dead. Not so much that it's bad, but the fact that it still gives you pain. That's the bad part. And I don't want that pain. I want to move on, but I don't want her hurting me anymore. Is that bad? Is it bad for me to not want her hurting me anymore? She still hurts me. Still in the shadows. Whenever I take a drink, I see her. She's there. She wants to get inside and we want to destroy each other. She's like a big cock penetrating my vagina, just thrusting hard and it hurts bad, hurts real good, maybe I want it to hurt, maybe then I can feel something, maybe I feel I deserve it? It makes sense after all the crap that happened to me when I was a kid. But then I don't deserve it. I deserve God's love because God is out there with open arms. God is my new Father, my only one. But then there's that saying about forgiving your brother. If you don't forgive your brother how do you expect God to forgive you? I just do. I'm good, my brother's bad. But then I have to forgive my brother. But he hurt me. I want him to stop hurting me. I can't be sure he'll stop hurting me. One time I told him not to hurt me anymore and he said okay, he won't, but he did, and it hurt real bad. Maybe it's like being a Jew in a concentration camp with some German officer telling you one thing, but really he's going to take you for one of those gas showers and you're loathe to trust Germans again. That's how I feel. I can't trust that guy not to hurt me again. And then I feel the only way he won't hurt me is if he's dead, but I can't kill him. I can't kill these people and God won't kill them for me. It's annoying that he won't do that. So what am I supposed to do? It's better to just live your life and not worry about all that. But I have all this pain and it hurts and I don't know what to do. Don't want to end my life because my life's pretty good.
I don't think God's a hoax now though. I think he's real, tangible, something I can feel. God's alive and he's trying to help me, but I'm scared God, scared that if I let go, I'll get hurt again. I trust you, but I don't know, I'm scared to let go. Scared to open my heart to them, Lord, because if I do they're going to hurt me again, and it's just better not to open my heart to them, to be guarded because they hurt me. Will you help me find the way, Lord? Do I even want to find the way? I don't know.
I don't know.
Friday, September 25, 2009
I'm Coming Back
I haven't written here in a while. I don't know if it was hard to write, or just hard to sit here and stare at the computer and share my feelings when I'm a wreck, even though sometimes you just have to. That's when the writing's good and it's too bad that you have to be almost dead to be a good writer. Of course, that's not true, that's a myth. I mean there are many good writers out there who've killed themselves or had sad lives. You can be a good writer and have a good life.
Lots of things happened. MJ's mother died. Her mother was a friend of mine in a way, like how you go over to your friend's house and his mother's there making you guys lemonade. She knows me, I know her, and I hate losing her. Hate losing a good woman. Yeah, she was sickly, and I knew she was heading downhill, but I didn't think it would be this soon. Thought she'd be able to fight the good life, but now the good lord has taken her.
Frustrates me because I'm wondering why the good lord didn't take the other sister, but then that's mean I suppose. I'll say nothing about that. I will say that MJ's been having a rough time, but this entry isn't about her since this is my blog. I just wish I could do something for MJ. If she were here I'd have her crash in my pad until she gets a place of her own, but she's in another city, so there's just no way. And I gotta live the days wondering if she'll be stuck out on the streets pimping herself, spreading her legs for any Tom Dick Harry or Marianne because sometimes that's the way you gotta live. I don't want MJ to live like that because she's pure, a good soul, someone who doesn't deserve to be kicked in the mid-section like that. She deserves better, but of course, God being the old joker he is doesn't really give a fuck and would probably let her get kicked until she's bleeding. I just don't get that Book of Job and yet it's my favorite book of the bible. The guy's just take all this shit from God but yet he still likes God, until he finally gets the last straw. I mean some of the stuff is alright, but it just goes on and on, with more suffering and you're thinking wtf is God doing! He's just chilling with Satan and having some fun. I mean is that what God does? Has fun with people? I wonder about that.
God puts all this crap on me when I have to work my job doing the day shift crap. 3 days shifts. Fuckin' day shifts, I hate 'em. This week's a stressful week and I have no breathing room, I have no life. Boss is out of town, so now we get to do all the managerial bs. I don't like doing managerial bs. I'd rather write. So now I have no life. It reminds me of this zen story. This guy is saying how he really wants to find God and the zen master smiles and says "Really?" Then the zen master grabs the guy and throws him underwater and holds him down. The guy's waving his hands frantically and after a few minutes, then zen master lifts the guy up. The guy's gasping, coughing, spitting up water. Finally when he's done and he's caught his breath, the zen master asks "When you were down there, what is it you wanted most?" The guy says "Air!" The zen master lets the guy go and says "Come back, when you want to find God as much as you wanted air." It's like that. Like I have no air. Now I realize how much I want to write. I'm almost hungry for it. I say almost because I want to read too. So much I want to do. I want to talk to MJ, to see if she's alright. Want to talk to the Donut, hang out, stuff like that. MJ, Donut, and I have a good talk. We hang out and just shoot the breeze, that's the kind of talk we like. Just easy living. We also get to bitch about our day, how it hampers our life, and wouldn't it be better not to have that day. Not so much the day, but what we do in it, the work that we do. We don't like it. Least I can speak for Donut and I. We'd rather be home doing other stuff. Being wage-slaves isn't really all that fun. I'd rather just write. Make my living doing that. Don't have to worry about scheduling my holidays. Don't even have to worry about booking a day off in advance. Don't have to worry about office politics.
Got some writing gigs coming up. Going to have fun writing a novel with some pals in November. The classic Nanowrimo. Means I'll be off this thing for a while. That's okay though. I haven't written here since July anyway, and nobody really reads this. Kind of glad in a way. Either way, it doesn't matter because it's more a personal project of mine anyway.
Guess that's it for now. Boss comes back Tuesday and I can get my life back then. Fuckers.
Makes me think of why I work at this stupid place. Don't want to manage the place. Just want to be a writer.
I was watching some God show just now and it made me think that God was here watching out for me and that he's watching out for MJ and everything's going to be okay, but sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I don't know what God is doing. Oddly my faith is still there. Although weak, if you want to call it that, I'd say it's still there. I wouldn't call my faith weak, I'd call it little. Sometimes it's bigger, sometimes it isn't. I mean it used to be bigger, back when Corrie was in my life and she actually cared. I mean she cares now, but she's busy, I understand that. Too busy for me? Feels like it sometimes. Everything is about me, I guess. She's supposed to be my sponsor though, least that's what I feel. I'm supposed to call her if I need to talk, but she feels so far away. Can't just pick up the phone and tell her I'm falling to pieces and I need a hug, or for her to hold me and pray for me. I like the way she hugs me, close to her, as if she doesn't hold me tight enough, I'll fall away, down into the depths of Hell. She's a good hugger like that. A small person, but powerful. Maybe one day I can return the favor for all she's done for me, but I don't know if I can. I think she's messed up her life. Or did. With that one guy. Left him, went with another guy. This guy seems pretty good.
In a way, I'm part of that family. Saw her druggie sister. She works near where I work. Great, good to see you, just don't try hitting me up for cigarettes you underage bitch! Yeah, she was nice to talk to before she tried to use my friendship with Corrie to get drugs. I don't need to buy that shit again. I'm trying to live a good clean life, and I don't need that stuff messing up my life. Even though I wouldn't be using, buying them would just be going down that road again, but the druggies don't understand, they'll just use anyone or anything to get what they want or think they need. It's like the opposite end of the spectrum. Corrie's this angel, and this other girl isn't, but then Corrie isn't the angel that she appears to be. I mean I think she's an angel, but she's got darkness inside of her which she tries to hide. Doesn't want to accept. There's that saying "shake hands with your devil." It's in a Robertson Davies novel...Fifth Business, I think it's called. She won't do that. Not for a while. Hey, she has God now, don't need to worry! Yet, she'll fuck up, but hey, she has God to solve all her problems so she can keep fucking up all she wants and be okay, I mean what is that shit anyway? I mean not so much Corrie, but a lot of Christians. You think to yourself "They're supposed to be Christian and they're doing this??" They act like shit, and blame it on "Everyone's a sinner." Fuck that shit. If you're going to fix your life, then fix your life and stop shitting on other people. It's so damned annoying when you live in your glass house behind that fancy name of Christian which gives you the right to destroy the world but still be forgiven. I mean not every Christian is like this. There are some really good people who mess up from time to time, but are trying to change, and are honest about this. They don't sit on their high horse telling you what a shit you are and how if you seek Jesus you'll be cool like them. These guys admit they're a mess, and say they're trying, and have hope that they'll succeed by having faith in Jesus. That's what Christianity is. It's not telling others you suck, and you'll only be cool if you're with the J-Man. It's about stability, focus, a center, inner peace, that kind of thing. When you have Jesus on your back, nothing else matters. He's got your back. No worries.
Some guy told me that the devil created Buddhism. I wonder if that guy was brain-washed. Some of these guys see there alone eating a sandwich, and hey, it's swell that they don't want to grab your cock or any weird shit like that. Instead they see you're alone, which means you probably have no friends, and that's the time they want to tell you about this great guy. They always start off that way. They start off slow, deceptive, almost like a salesperson, and say "Let me tell you about this cool guy." The cool guy is Jesus. Once they say that name. Omg! It's "Fuck the Jesus freaks man!" Then they wonder what you believe in. They counter with the stuff from the bible. Turns out if you read the bible every day you'll be okay. Um, yeah.
How many people have actually read the whole bible? I've read it twice. It's one long book.
This God show had it right. It's not about religion. It's a relationship. That I can believe. It's not about reading the bible. It's about connecting with Jesus and talking to him. And yeah, digging in the bible to find the answers. That's what it's about. Who cares what city the Wise Men stopped at to pee? Like I don't give a fuck. What I care about is when they nailed Jesus to the cross, and come on, that's pretty gory stuff (wish I could've written that), and then he comes back from the dead! But not just him coming back from the dead. It's what he teaches. He's like "you don't do this, do this!" Sadly not every Christian does those lessons, especially the ones who preach this shit. It's one thing to preach it, another to actually do what you preach. Practice what you preach. And a lot of those idiots don't.
I'll tell you what though. I believe in God because I know he's real. Not because some book told me because what I felt. Don't know who he is, but the bible seems to show me some answers. I like the bible, not some preacher's interpretation of it.
I said enough. I'm glad I said it. It needed to be said. Happy writing.
Lots of things happened. MJ's mother died. Her mother was a friend of mine in a way, like how you go over to your friend's house and his mother's there making you guys lemonade. She knows me, I know her, and I hate losing her. Hate losing a good woman. Yeah, she was sickly, and I knew she was heading downhill, but I didn't think it would be this soon. Thought she'd be able to fight the good life, but now the good lord has taken her.
Frustrates me because I'm wondering why the good lord didn't take the other sister, but then that's mean I suppose. I'll say nothing about that. I will say that MJ's been having a rough time, but this entry isn't about her since this is my blog. I just wish I could do something for MJ. If she were here I'd have her crash in my pad until she gets a place of her own, but she's in another city, so there's just no way. And I gotta live the days wondering if she'll be stuck out on the streets pimping herself, spreading her legs for any Tom Dick Harry or Marianne because sometimes that's the way you gotta live. I don't want MJ to live like that because she's pure, a good soul, someone who doesn't deserve to be kicked in the mid-section like that. She deserves better, but of course, God being the old joker he is doesn't really give a fuck and would probably let her get kicked until she's bleeding. I just don't get that Book of Job and yet it's my favorite book of the bible. The guy's just take all this shit from God but yet he still likes God, until he finally gets the last straw. I mean some of the stuff is alright, but it just goes on and on, with more suffering and you're thinking wtf is God doing! He's just chilling with Satan and having some fun. I mean is that what God does? Has fun with people? I wonder about that.
God puts all this crap on me when I have to work my job doing the day shift crap. 3 days shifts. Fuckin' day shifts, I hate 'em. This week's a stressful week and I have no breathing room, I have no life. Boss is out of town, so now we get to do all the managerial bs. I don't like doing managerial bs. I'd rather write. So now I have no life. It reminds me of this zen story. This guy is saying how he really wants to find God and the zen master smiles and says "Really?" Then the zen master grabs the guy and throws him underwater and holds him down. The guy's waving his hands frantically and after a few minutes, then zen master lifts the guy up. The guy's gasping, coughing, spitting up water. Finally when he's done and he's caught his breath, the zen master asks "When you were down there, what is it you wanted most?" The guy says "Air!" The zen master lets the guy go and says "Come back, when you want to find God as much as you wanted air." It's like that. Like I have no air. Now I realize how much I want to write. I'm almost hungry for it. I say almost because I want to read too. So much I want to do. I want to talk to MJ, to see if she's alright. Want to talk to the Donut, hang out, stuff like that. MJ, Donut, and I have a good talk. We hang out and just shoot the breeze, that's the kind of talk we like. Just easy living. We also get to bitch about our day, how it hampers our life, and wouldn't it be better not to have that day. Not so much the day, but what we do in it, the work that we do. We don't like it. Least I can speak for Donut and I. We'd rather be home doing other stuff. Being wage-slaves isn't really all that fun. I'd rather just write. Make my living doing that. Don't have to worry about scheduling my holidays. Don't even have to worry about booking a day off in advance. Don't have to worry about office politics.
Got some writing gigs coming up. Going to have fun writing a novel with some pals in November. The classic Nanowrimo. Means I'll be off this thing for a while. That's okay though. I haven't written here since July anyway, and nobody really reads this. Kind of glad in a way. Either way, it doesn't matter because it's more a personal project of mine anyway.
Guess that's it for now. Boss comes back Tuesday and I can get my life back then. Fuckers.
Makes me think of why I work at this stupid place. Don't want to manage the place. Just want to be a writer.
I was watching some God show just now and it made me think that God was here watching out for me and that he's watching out for MJ and everything's going to be okay, but sometimes I don't know. Sometimes I don't know what God is doing. Oddly my faith is still there. Although weak, if you want to call it that, I'd say it's still there. I wouldn't call my faith weak, I'd call it little. Sometimes it's bigger, sometimes it isn't. I mean it used to be bigger, back when Corrie was in my life and she actually cared. I mean she cares now, but she's busy, I understand that. Too busy for me? Feels like it sometimes. Everything is about me, I guess. She's supposed to be my sponsor though, least that's what I feel. I'm supposed to call her if I need to talk, but she feels so far away. Can't just pick up the phone and tell her I'm falling to pieces and I need a hug, or for her to hold me and pray for me. I like the way she hugs me, close to her, as if she doesn't hold me tight enough, I'll fall away, down into the depths of Hell. She's a good hugger like that. A small person, but powerful. Maybe one day I can return the favor for all she's done for me, but I don't know if I can. I think she's messed up her life. Or did. With that one guy. Left him, went with another guy. This guy seems pretty good.
In a way, I'm part of that family. Saw her druggie sister. She works near where I work. Great, good to see you, just don't try hitting me up for cigarettes you underage bitch! Yeah, she was nice to talk to before she tried to use my friendship with Corrie to get drugs. I don't need to buy that shit again. I'm trying to live a good clean life, and I don't need that stuff messing up my life. Even though I wouldn't be using, buying them would just be going down that road again, but the druggies don't understand, they'll just use anyone or anything to get what they want or think they need. It's like the opposite end of the spectrum. Corrie's this angel, and this other girl isn't, but then Corrie isn't the angel that she appears to be. I mean I think she's an angel, but she's got darkness inside of her which she tries to hide. Doesn't want to accept. There's that saying "shake hands with your devil." It's in a Robertson Davies novel...Fifth Business, I think it's called. She won't do that. Not for a while. Hey, she has God now, don't need to worry! Yet, she'll fuck up, but hey, she has God to solve all her problems so she can keep fucking up all she wants and be okay, I mean what is that shit anyway? I mean not so much Corrie, but a lot of Christians. You think to yourself "They're supposed to be Christian and they're doing this??" They act like shit, and blame it on "Everyone's a sinner." Fuck that shit. If you're going to fix your life, then fix your life and stop shitting on other people. It's so damned annoying when you live in your glass house behind that fancy name of Christian which gives you the right to destroy the world but still be forgiven. I mean not every Christian is like this. There are some really good people who mess up from time to time, but are trying to change, and are honest about this. They don't sit on their high horse telling you what a shit you are and how if you seek Jesus you'll be cool like them. These guys admit they're a mess, and say they're trying, and have hope that they'll succeed by having faith in Jesus. That's what Christianity is. It's not telling others you suck, and you'll only be cool if you're with the J-Man. It's about stability, focus, a center, inner peace, that kind of thing. When you have Jesus on your back, nothing else matters. He's got your back. No worries.
Some guy told me that the devil created Buddhism. I wonder if that guy was brain-washed. Some of these guys see there alone eating a sandwich, and hey, it's swell that they don't want to grab your cock or any weird shit like that. Instead they see you're alone, which means you probably have no friends, and that's the time they want to tell you about this great guy. They always start off that way. They start off slow, deceptive, almost like a salesperson, and say "Let me tell you about this cool guy." The cool guy is Jesus. Once they say that name. Omg! It's "Fuck the Jesus freaks man!" Then they wonder what you believe in. They counter with the stuff from the bible. Turns out if you read the bible every day you'll be okay. Um, yeah.
How many people have actually read the whole bible? I've read it twice. It's one long book.
This God show had it right. It's not about religion. It's a relationship. That I can believe. It's not about reading the bible. It's about connecting with Jesus and talking to him. And yeah, digging in the bible to find the answers. That's what it's about. Who cares what city the Wise Men stopped at to pee? Like I don't give a fuck. What I care about is when they nailed Jesus to the cross, and come on, that's pretty gory stuff (wish I could've written that), and then he comes back from the dead! But not just him coming back from the dead. It's what he teaches. He's like "you don't do this, do this!" Sadly not every Christian does those lessons, especially the ones who preach this shit. It's one thing to preach it, another to actually do what you preach. Practice what you preach. And a lot of those idiots don't.
I'll tell you what though. I believe in God because I know he's real. Not because some book told me because what I felt. Don't know who he is, but the bible seems to show me some answers. I like the bible, not some preacher's interpretation of it.
I said enough. I'm glad I said it. It needed to be said. Happy writing.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Another Entry
Oddly enough, I just read the last entry. I feel pretty much the same, except now it's MJ that's doing her own thing. It's summer and she's usually out and about in the summertime. MJ's one of the last people I cling to I guess. Cling wasn't the word I was looking for. Probably one of my rocks I would say, like Corrie.
So yes, I've been feeling lonely, though now I feel alright. I wrote last night, edited a story, got a lot done. It's better staying up and not going to bed until very late. I have to remember that. I went shopping to after midnight, like a vampire but I didn't have to worry about any idiots with little children misbehaving. You know, the kind that just run around and do whatever they want and the parents just stand there looking all embarrassed and you wonder why these people have kids when they're not even old enough to bet at Vegas or shave. It's really annoying. I have nothing against the kids, more against the parents who are just like the kids. It's the whole saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Last night was pretty good, bought a couple of burritos to eat with my coffee. Came home, did just that. I hadn't done that in years, it felt great. I just felt at home. Hadn't felt like that in a long time. The night is my home; the day time . . . I don't know what that is. It's a painting. A painting I just walk by. It's Norman Rockwell, and I'm not much for Norman Rockwell. I like Salvador Dali. His stuff is fucked up, but isn't the world just as fucked up. It's that fucked-upness that's more real than that painted reality.
Then of course, there's Jesus. Jesus is the reality. The real reality. He is beyond the fuckupness or the painted Norman Rockwell reality. And during the past week, I thought to myself, out of everyone I know, Jesus hasn't let me down. Pretty much the only guy I can talk to. I mean sure maybe I could talk to MJ, but she wasn't home. I wished she was home, but I also want her to have a good time and not stay home just to listen to my problems.
This is where the reality is, Grieve Table.
Corrie got baptised the other week. I also realized she goes to a different church. I was invited to go to the baptism, but I work Sundays, and this past Sunday I was invited to a church carnival. Still couldn't go. Almost could. I ended up working a little later, but it would've been a rush. I would've just went to see Corrie and not for the sermon and I thought that would've been sacreligious so I didn't go, and it would've been a rush. I'd be in and out. A quick hello, a quick hug. I miss that hug, I miss Corrie. Maybe we'll see each other sometime in the future I don't know. The writing keeps me strong. That's what keeps me going. I write because I need to write, if I didn't I'd be dead.
Things are actually going well for me today. Yesterday was another story, and popping online there was nobody there to talk to, but I knew life wasn't hopeless. I just made my own destiny rather than having them make one for me. The coffee helped. Coffee is my friend.
The grief for my uncle subsides and I'm glad. I thought what would happen if his wife showed up at my work. I'd give the natural sorry and we'd all move on. Hiding behind politeness. But now the bitch is alone, and I'm kind of glad for that. Too many bitches in the world thinking they own it. It's not fun owning something where the only one in that something is just you.
I guess that's it for this entry. I'm not sure if it was a long one or a short one, but I'm okay. That I do know.
So yes, I've been feeling lonely, though now I feel alright. I wrote last night, edited a story, got a lot done. It's better staying up and not going to bed until very late. I have to remember that. I went shopping to after midnight, like a vampire but I didn't have to worry about any idiots with little children misbehaving. You know, the kind that just run around and do whatever they want and the parents just stand there looking all embarrassed and you wonder why these people have kids when they're not even old enough to bet at Vegas or shave. It's really annoying. I have nothing against the kids, more against the parents who are just like the kids. It's the whole saying "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."
Last night was pretty good, bought a couple of burritos to eat with my coffee. Came home, did just that. I hadn't done that in years, it felt great. I just felt at home. Hadn't felt like that in a long time. The night is my home; the day time . . . I don't know what that is. It's a painting. A painting I just walk by. It's Norman Rockwell, and I'm not much for Norman Rockwell. I like Salvador Dali. His stuff is fucked up, but isn't the world just as fucked up. It's that fucked-upness that's more real than that painted reality.
Then of course, there's Jesus. Jesus is the reality. The real reality. He is beyond the fuckupness or the painted Norman Rockwell reality. And during the past week, I thought to myself, out of everyone I know, Jesus hasn't let me down. Pretty much the only guy I can talk to. I mean sure maybe I could talk to MJ, but she wasn't home. I wished she was home, but I also want her to have a good time and not stay home just to listen to my problems.
This is where the reality is, Grieve Table.
Corrie got baptised the other week. I also realized she goes to a different church. I was invited to go to the baptism, but I work Sundays, and this past Sunday I was invited to a church carnival. Still couldn't go. Almost could. I ended up working a little later, but it would've been a rush. I would've just went to see Corrie and not for the sermon and I thought that would've been sacreligious so I didn't go, and it would've been a rush. I'd be in and out. A quick hello, a quick hug. I miss that hug, I miss Corrie. Maybe we'll see each other sometime in the future I don't know. The writing keeps me strong. That's what keeps me going. I write because I need to write, if I didn't I'd be dead.
Things are actually going well for me today. Yesterday was another story, and popping online there was nobody there to talk to, but I knew life wasn't hopeless. I just made my own destiny rather than having them make one for me. The coffee helped. Coffee is my friend.
The grief for my uncle subsides and I'm glad. I thought what would happen if his wife showed up at my work. I'd give the natural sorry and we'd all move on. Hiding behind politeness. But now the bitch is alone, and I'm kind of glad for that. Too many bitches in the world thinking they own it. It's not fun owning something where the only one in that something is just you.
I guess that's it for this entry. I'm not sure if it was a long one or a short one, but I'm okay. That I do know.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Left behind
There was a time I had a group of people I hung out with. That time I wasn't sober. I enjoyed their company, they enjoyed mine. I suppose I needed them at the time and I wondered if they needed me or were they just growing. They were cool, drank a bit themselves, mostly smoked pot, but I didn't do that shit. Too much hit is too much for me. I'm not that crazy. Not that pot smokers are crazy, but we all have our own poison or vices or whatever you want to call it. Nowadays these guys have kids and families and I sit at the bar, but it's just me, and eventually I don't sit there anymore because if you want to sit there you gotta drink and I don't.
I do sometimes, but less. Now I'm trying to work out more, if you can believe that, maybe even eat healthier but you can't escape addiction or maybe I'm just using that to escape. Reality is never reality. I wish it was. I wish there was an actual reality (there is, but I'll get into that later), but everything is so false. The way people speak, the way they act, it's false. It's not who they are. Who they are is when you leap into their bedroom and find out they're wearing panties when they should be wearing briefs or vice versa. Or maybe they have a line of cocaine stashed under the bed and you're interrupting their midnight snack. It's the coke that makes them who they are, makes them the great players of the world, but really they're cokeheads. Makes me wonder if I have to be cokehead in order to be a great player in the world.
There is an actual reality like I was saying and that reality is Jesus. Oh no, here is comes, you think to yourself. He's going to go on preaching now and we didn't come here to listen to that shit you're probably thinking. I'll say this. When I went that direction, things got better for me. Here's the kicker though. The person that led me in that direction, Corrie, I haven't talked to her in maybe a year? I miss her. She used to visit me every now and again, but she's been busy. It's more than that though. She's grown. Maybe she's outgrown me? That's what I think. It's not her fault, it's just the way things are and that saddens me because I think I really need her to help me in this world because it feels like its falling apart and yet, she was the person who led me to the door. That was her job I guess. I went through the door and now I have a new teacher named Jesus.
It's not that I think Jesus is a hack. I think he's great and holding on to him and following him is probably the smartest thing I've done in a long time. What's sad is there are some who believe in him who are hacks or are hypocritical. These guys hide behind the phrase "we are all sinners." Yes, dipshit, we are sinners but does that mean you can sin 24/6. 7th day you go to church. I mean these guys tell you how you need to pick up your life and be with Jesus but here they are trashing their lives away. I'm speaking in general I know. Well, let's get specific then? I'm thinking of Corrie. Well, Corrie is an alcoholic, but doesn't know it yet. I assume she's getting better. She's also filled with problems. I mean she gets through it with her faith and she doesn't judge me. No, scratch that. She does judge me. Because I don't go to church on Sunday. Here's the kicker: neither does she. Well, she does, but not every Sunday. We're not all perfect though, but we're trying to be is the phrase that comes to mind. Corrie's not that bad though. She doesn't rag on me like some other people would. I just haven't seen her in a long time.
Funny, actually I can't think of anyone I know who has that hypocritical Christian flavor. I mean I've met people who are like that. But, personally, I don't know anyone who is really like that, thankfully.
Corrie was my light though. When things were down, I could always go to her for a pick me up and now I can't. Makes me think I have to let her go since she has her own life. Have to try and continue without her because I have God now. It's hard especially when God is not in physical form, but that's the whole point. If he was in physical form you wouldn't be able to touch him like you can now.
I had a friend I had known for 14 years. I haven't heard from her since Christmas. I sent her a card though for Christmas. Not her birthday. I remembered her birthday, but a week before and I had too many things going on to get a birthday card mailed to her. Haven't given up though. Maybe this Christmas I'll send a card. No email from her which is alright seeing as how my previous email account is deleted or something happened to it. That's the only one she knew. I don't remember what email she used because we both started talking on this gaming site that she no longer plays on. I miss her. She was part of my stability. It was like I could do all this other stuff, but then when I went on there, I'd see her and things seemed right again, just normal. Now I feel like I'm in a strange city with no friends.
MJ? MJ is still around. I'm scared though at how long she'll be around. She hasn't been online a lot lately, but that's because it's summer or close to summer and she's been going outside. Ordinarily I wouldn't worry so much, but added with Corrie and my other friends, it scares me a bit. I mean MJ is still in email reach and I can always call her if I needed to. But T, the one I've known for 14 years, I thought she'd be in my life forever but I haven't heard from her in forever. Maybe it's the whole when we see each other again, it'll be like we haven't been apart for a while, you know catching up where you left off kind of thing?
There was this group I used to hang out with online a couple of years ago, maybe? I've stepped away from them. Partly because of all the online drama that happens. I miss them though, but I can't go back there.
So this makes me left behind, alone. The co-workers I bonded with years ago, after the pot one's grew, they've grown and moved away. I still talk to the pot ones from time to time, but they're less druggies and more responsible, more family-oriented. They have kids, if you can believe that. Well, you probably do, but I still can't. I picture them as those 20 year old partiers. Fuck, they're like 30 now. Or the oldest is 30. We're all getting old and they've all grown up. Grown up without me and here I am with the only friend I've got at the moment. My writing. It's the only thing that's been constant to me throughout my entire life. Maybe the only friend I can count on?
I know that's not true. I know there are still friends in my world, starting with MJ, but I miss my old friends. I miss T, I miss Corrie, I miss . . . goodness, those online people. I miss the gamers on that gaming site I used to be on.
I miss some of my old writer friends which I've met 5 years ago maybe. A few of them have gone their own way. Presently more are going their own way. Moving out of the city or just becoming more busy with real life. The older you get, the more busier with real life you get. I get that.
And even though my old friends pass away, not as in the dying sense, but just drifting off, I have other old friends wanting to sneak back in my life. Let me rephrase that, old people wanting to sneak back into my life. People I've known from my school years who never gave me the time of day then, but now want to hang out with me because they have no one else. They ring me up on facebook and say hello, and I want to say fuck off because they never talked to me then, so why talked to me now. There's this rich bitch that used to know us back before she was bitten by the rich bug. Seen her a few years ago with her mom. They both weren't pleased I was working at a restaurant with no future ahead of me. Didn't mention I wrote stories. They believed what they wanted to believe. A few months ago, they see me again, and they were happy to see me, impressed by my ability to work hard and enjoy what I do. They want to be my friend, but I don't want to be theirs. Maybe that makes me too proud?
It annoys me how people want to know me when they see me. Not because they want to hang out with me, but out of pity because it looks like I'm alone. They think I write because I have nothing else to do. I write because I'd rather not do anything else. I love to write.
My dad told me last week actually about the constant of family. How you can always depend on family throughout the years. How friends come and go, but family will always be there. I'm beginning to think that now. Though my idea of family is limited. Mother, Father, siblings. That's about it. Cousins are crazy hacks. Uncles are either crazy drunks or just dead. Not dead like my nice uncle, but dead in spirit.
Yeah, I can't wait to go to Heaven. I'll get to hang out with a lot of people. Oddly enough, some of them will be some of these idiots I spoke about in this entry.
I do sometimes, but less. Now I'm trying to work out more, if you can believe that, maybe even eat healthier but you can't escape addiction or maybe I'm just using that to escape. Reality is never reality. I wish it was. I wish there was an actual reality (there is, but I'll get into that later), but everything is so false. The way people speak, the way they act, it's false. It's not who they are. Who they are is when you leap into their bedroom and find out they're wearing panties when they should be wearing briefs or vice versa. Or maybe they have a line of cocaine stashed under the bed and you're interrupting their midnight snack. It's the coke that makes them who they are, makes them the great players of the world, but really they're cokeheads. Makes me wonder if I have to be cokehead in order to be a great player in the world.
There is an actual reality like I was saying and that reality is Jesus. Oh no, here is comes, you think to yourself. He's going to go on preaching now and we didn't come here to listen to that shit you're probably thinking. I'll say this. When I went that direction, things got better for me. Here's the kicker though. The person that led me in that direction, Corrie, I haven't talked to her in maybe a year? I miss her. She used to visit me every now and again, but she's been busy. It's more than that though. She's grown. Maybe she's outgrown me? That's what I think. It's not her fault, it's just the way things are and that saddens me because I think I really need her to help me in this world because it feels like its falling apart and yet, she was the person who led me to the door. That was her job I guess. I went through the door and now I have a new teacher named Jesus.
It's not that I think Jesus is a hack. I think he's great and holding on to him and following him is probably the smartest thing I've done in a long time. What's sad is there are some who believe in him who are hacks or are hypocritical. These guys hide behind the phrase "we are all sinners." Yes, dipshit, we are sinners but does that mean you can sin 24/6. 7th day you go to church. I mean these guys tell you how you need to pick up your life and be with Jesus but here they are trashing their lives away. I'm speaking in general I know. Well, let's get specific then? I'm thinking of Corrie. Well, Corrie is an alcoholic, but doesn't know it yet. I assume she's getting better. She's also filled with problems. I mean she gets through it with her faith and she doesn't judge me. No, scratch that. She does judge me. Because I don't go to church on Sunday. Here's the kicker: neither does she. Well, she does, but not every Sunday. We're not all perfect though, but we're trying to be is the phrase that comes to mind. Corrie's not that bad though. She doesn't rag on me like some other people would. I just haven't seen her in a long time.
Funny, actually I can't think of anyone I know who has that hypocritical Christian flavor. I mean I've met people who are like that. But, personally, I don't know anyone who is really like that, thankfully.
Corrie was my light though. When things were down, I could always go to her for a pick me up and now I can't. Makes me think I have to let her go since she has her own life. Have to try and continue without her because I have God now. It's hard especially when God is not in physical form, but that's the whole point. If he was in physical form you wouldn't be able to touch him like you can now.
I had a friend I had known for 14 years. I haven't heard from her since Christmas. I sent her a card though for Christmas. Not her birthday. I remembered her birthday, but a week before and I had too many things going on to get a birthday card mailed to her. Haven't given up though. Maybe this Christmas I'll send a card. No email from her which is alright seeing as how my previous email account is deleted or something happened to it. That's the only one she knew. I don't remember what email she used because we both started talking on this gaming site that she no longer plays on. I miss her. She was part of my stability. It was like I could do all this other stuff, but then when I went on there, I'd see her and things seemed right again, just normal. Now I feel like I'm in a strange city with no friends.
MJ? MJ is still around. I'm scared though at how long she'll be around. She hasn't been online a lot lately, but that's because it's summer or close to summer and she's been going outside. Ordinarily I wouldn't worry so much, but added with Corrie and my other friends, it scares me a bit. I mean MJ is still in email reach and I can always call her if I needed to. But T, the one I've known for 14 years, I thought she'd be in my life forever but I haven't heard from her in forever. Maybe it's the whole when we see each other again, it'll be like we haven't been apart for a while, you know catching up where you left off kind of thing?
There was this group I used to hang out with online a couple of years ago, maybe? I've stepped away from them. Partly because of all the online drama that happens. I miss them though, but I can't go back there.
So this makes me left behind, alone. The co-workers I bonded with years ago, after the pot one's grew, they've grown and moved away. I still talk to the pot ones from time to time, but they're less druggies and more responsible, more family-oriented. They have kids, if you can believe that. Well, you probably do, but I still can't. I picture them as those 20 year old partiers. Fuck, they're like 30 now. Or the oldest is 30. We're all getting old and they've all grown up. Grown up without me and here I am with the only friend I've got at the moment. My writing. It's the only thing that's been constant to me throughout my entire life. Maybe the only friend I can count on?
I know that's not true. I know there are still friends in my world, starting with MJ, but I miss my old friends. I miss T, I miss Corrie, I miss . . . goodness, those online people. I miss the gamers on that gaming site I used to be on.
I miss some of my old writer friends which I've met 5 years ago maybe. A few of them have gone their own way. Presently more are going their own way. Moving out of the city or just becoming more busy with real life. The older you get, the more busier with real life you get. I get that.
And even though my old friends pass away, not as in the dying sense, but just drifting off, I have other old friends wanting to sneak back in my life. Let me rephrase that, old people wanting to sneak back into my life. People I've known from my school years who never gave me the time of day then, but now want to hang out with me because they have no one else. They ring me up on facebook and say hello, and I want to say fuck off because they never talked to me then, so why talked to me now. There's this rich bitch that used to know us back before she was bitten by the rich bug. Seen her a few years ago with her mom. They both weren't pleased I was working at a restaurant with no future ahead of me. Didn't mention I wrote stories. They believed what they wanted to believe. A few months ago, they see me again, and they were happy to see me, impressed by my ability to work hard and enjoy what I do. They want to be my friend, but I don't want to be theirs. Maybe that makes me too proud?
It annoys me how people want to know me when they see me. Not because they want to hang out with me, but out of pity because it looks like I'm alone. They think I write because I have nothing else to do. I write because I'd rather not do anything else. I love to write.
My dad told me last week actually about the constant of family. How you can always depend on family throughout the years. How friends come and go, but family will always be there. I'm beginning to think that now. Though my idea of family is limited. Mother, Father, siblings. That's about it. Cousins are crazy hacks. Uncles are either crazy drunks or just dead. Not dead like my nice uncle, but dead in spirit.
Yeah, I can't wait to go to Heaven. I'll get to hang out with a lot of people. Oddly enough, some of them will be some of these idiots I spoke about in this entry.
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