Ugh

I literally want to give the fuck up on women and relationships. It seems like a collossal waste of my time and effort. I'm so not into mind games or the cold shoulder or cute little flirtatious quips that never lead anywhere. I think I'm just going to go back to be cynical and angry at the world, at least then I was happy and not fucking stressing over vagina and the lack of it.

Jesus H. Christ?

What the hell does the "H." stand for? Just one of the few things that have been on my mind. I think I recently watched a movie that someone within said "Jesus H. Christ!" and was deeply concerned that I was an idiot . . . Then again, I've always been a little bit off. So, music saved/is saving my life and new women. It's surprisingly refreshing to talk to females that don't have their head so far up their own butts that they can't see the sunlight or smell their own shit.

I wonder

If I am a decent guy, is it possible to find a woman who is not a complete cunt? Who will treat me as I treat her? Because at the moment, that seems nil to impossible.

Lesson learned

If it looks like a bad idea, feels like heaven, moves heaven and earth, makes you want more than you should, destroys your confidence in yourself, makes you put all your eggs in one basket, forces you to ignore friends, pushes your buttons for no fucking reason, constantly nags, fucks like a porn star, swallows the whole of your cock until tears are in her eyes, cries to you, plots out a future with you that includes marriage and children, drinks with you, is jealous of your friends, hates your mother, is judgmental, is temperamental, loves you, hates you, disrespects your ambition . . . more than likely, it will be a colossal waste of your time. That's what I have learned. Two words: fuck you.

The last year and a half of my life, I feel like I have wasted completely. Nothing was gained from the experience other than the complete ostracization from my family, my friends, and my own pride, for no other reason than to please someone completely insatiable. To take so much emotionally, physically, mentally, and financially from me was easy for you. I, on the other hand, am left holding a wet fucking sack, picking up the bullshit pieces of the relationships I damn near burned away for a vicious, callous woman. Your career matters more to you. Your ambition matters more to you. And I, well, as far as I can see, was simply muscle, a warm body, and a hard cock for you. Nothing has changed, and yet, everything has.

Within a month or two, someone else will be between your thighs and I can only hope they displease you, that they hurt you. I do not, cannot, and will not wish you the best. I, fully and happily, renounce all love I ever had for you. You are an idiot to sacrifice what we had for nothing more than a few doubts . . . Don't misunderstand me. Your doubts are valid, but the inability to believe in me, is (I hope and pray) going to be the worse mistake of your life. I hope every fucker you meet is a douchebag, cheats on you, hurts you, lies to you, takes you for all you're worth. I want you to cry, to sob, to be broken.

Am I bitter? Fuck yeah. I do not like giving so much without reciprocation. It was never about us for you, only I-I-I; me-me-me. Never we. And that is disgusting. I want karma to fuck you over. I want nothing to go right. I want you to beg for me back. I want to smile and tell you to go fuck yourself.

I will be playing "Take This to Your Grave" for a long while, concerning you.

What?!

It occurred to me that my ability to articulate myself and my vocabulary, might be a possible hindrance in my quest for a job. I don't know for certain, but I really get the feeling that my ability to express myself fluently in the English language, while to me doesn't seem that amazing, is intimidating and a turn-off for most employers. At least in the restaurant business. I don't mean to say that the majority of workers, employers, and fast-food goers are dunces or the like, just that I think it's really fucking stupid that I'm overlooked because I'm confident in, and use my native language to the best of my potential.

My grandma doesn't get it . . .

She thinks that I've not found a job because:

•  I'm lazy
•  I think every job is shit
•  I don't want a job

This would all be well and good, if any of these were the case. But they aren't. I've applied at every place I can think of. I've taken suggestions, I've done follow-ups, I call back, I go in, I drive here, I drive there. And still no fucking job. She thinks that I'm showboating, applying places with no intention of keeping or doing my best at a job. Really, it's assholish of her to think so little of me and for the life of me, I can't think of a reason why her opinion even fucking matters to me at all. She's old. She's bitter. And now, she thinks it's okay to be caustic, crass, and mean. If I were lazy, I would have quit looking for a job ages ago. I would have fucking quit the Loop for that matter. I don't think every job is shit, I just don't think that some jobs advertise themselves for what they are; nor do the bosses/owners/swindlers tell you up front that they plan to Jew you out of money and essentially break your back, so that you can make them more money and they can compensate you for as little as possible. Maybe I'm idealistic, for wanting a job where I can work for 15-30 hours a week and not be paid in lint and buttons; but I believe that I'm a friendly person. I don't back-talk my superiors. I show up on time. I do everything in my power to make sure that I learn whatever the fuck it is that I'm supposed to learn, so I can do my job competently and I work hard. Sure, I like to socialize; I like to talk, but I don't think that's that bad of a thing, considering the amount of effort I normally put in to getting shit done.

But I suppose my opinion is moot at this point. Because really, I don't have a job. I haven't made any lead way anywhere. I'm sure Megan is on the verge of leaving me. Literally, the only reason she hasn't is because she loves me, terribly; and apparently I fuck like a Greek God. But the notion of me not getting a job is hard on us. She has to pay for everything. Everything. And even when I get a job, she doesn't want me to pay for anything. Which is fine. I guess.

I feel like . . . how does the saying go, "lower than whale shit on the bottom of the ocean"; yeah, something like that. Like I feel like such a worthless sack of shit, that I want to break up with Megan to save her the trouble. Whenever I feel like this, I want to sever ties completely with everyone . . . and just pick up, pack up, and vanish. I don't have the heart or constitution for suicide. I've never had that. I tried as a child as realized I can't override my self-preservation instinct; and as a teen when I tried to take sixteen aspirins . . . well, I obviously lived didn't I? Point being, even in self-mutilation, the one thing I should be good at, I fail.

I don't want to quit though, surprisingly. My main motivation being Megan. I want her to extremely that my desire to say fuck it all, is completely negated and then overwhelmed by a need to show her that I can, and that I will.

So, I guess all I can do is continue applying, continue calling, continue going in, continue praying, hoping, wishing, begging for a new job that at least allows me to return to school.

What the fuck is wrong with my younger brother . . .

Like this kid is twisted up on the inside. Sometimes I just want to punch him in the face and in the act somehow knock the sheer absurdity and ignorance right out of his skull. Like he hounds me constantly, I want to hang out, I want to hang out; and yes, I do hang out with Fika more, but . . . fuck, dude, she's 18. Not 14. She can come to Aladdin's. Which is normally where I go to hang out. I don't mean to be an ass to him and make up shit like I'm always busy, but when he asks to randomly come over to my house, I know that it's not completely about fellowship for him. He wants to sit up on Sean's Xbox and play Halo online, or play games on Sean's computer or eat the shit out of the food in the kitchen or give me various details about his life that I really, really, really could do without. I don't give a shit about you catching random boners and hugging on little high-schoolers. They stopped being attractive to me when . . . well my last year of high school. Maybe I'm the real asshat, because this is the only way he knows to interact with me and maybe he thinks that if he shows me that he too is very interested in girls, and likes similar video games that this will somehow . . . make me more endearing. Unfortunately, that's not the case. I'm fairly content in being by myself, a lot of the time. Megan is different. First, she doesn't hound me to play video games and normally can be found either watching television in her spare time or reading a book; or if the mood strikes her . . . with me on, in, or around her person. And being that John is the furthest thing from attractive to me and doesn't know how to take a fucking hint, I tend to avoid him at times. And that's really fucked up. I know. But I don't really see myself changing anytime soon. I'm stressing over not having a job and the various things that places that I apply tell me; and generally just don't feel like being around a hyper teenager. Makes me wonder if I was that bothersome as a kid . . . I don't think so, because I spent the majority of my time, alone, writing poetry or alone, reading books. I didn't really have anyone to socialize with outside of school. I know he's got that and shouldn't be so gung-ho about being around me . . . Fuck, I'm rambling again.

"So Desperately Obvious"
I hope I am not.
I hope I look hopeful and excited.
I just feel like shit. Completely and thoroughly.
I haven't done anything, haven't able to keep my word to her, to myself, to my grandfathers, to anyone.
And I know exactly why . . .

In Retrospect

"It's Kinda A Funny Story"
Like seeing her, knowing that she wants to be my friend
But knowing that I don't trust myself about her or her about me
That my girlfriend isn't at all comfortable with the idea of me talking to her
It doesn't sit right in my stomach
And my conscience would probably eat me alive if I ever saw her without Megan's knowledge
It's funny because before, before me being stupid and thinking that I could ever love her
We were friends
Just friends
Could hang out
Could chill
But like most things, feelings, too strong, too immature, too primordial ruined what could have just been a good friend

Everything that I should . . .

"Unnamed"
Today, I attended a funeral. An old fashioned, screaming and shouting, bawling and stomping funeral. And like every one I've attended up until this point . . . I was flabbergasted, stoic. Death is the one true certainty in life. The moment you are born, is the instant you start dying. It's almost funny. The other day I heard a line in a song that just stood out: "everybody dies, but not everybody lives." I don't want to regret. Ever. I actually prayed for Megan, for us, and the chance to make things right. I don't feel like I'm making enough of an effort, but . . . I know that this is my last chance. And I refuse to sabotage it, like everything else. But unlike the other shit, I didn't really care, thus the apathy. She spins my top. And I owe it to her, myself, those that have listened to me cry and whine to make good on my word and promises.