you ran away from your uselessness like you had something to prove

i can’t decide if i’m a cynic or not. this is just one of the important choices i make every day. well, and is it really just one choice? or is it like a bunch of choices that add up to one thing eventually? can anyone even add that stuff up objectively? methinks not. so since nobody can really judge me accurately, i’m gonna just call myself an optimist. that’ll show ’em.

i saw a meme that was actually not a meme but just a twitter screenshot passed off as a meme; it said that all kids who read at a 12th grade level in 4th grade are now severely depressed and totally illiterate. i don’t know if this counts as bragging or dragging my self down, but that person has me all figured out.

lol i had a crush on a dumbass in 4th or 5th grade, and i told my friend, and she immediately ran and told him. i lost a crush and a friend that day, so sad. ’cause i, of course, had to explain to his face that i used to have a crush on him. so from then on i just tried not to care for him at all. and the moral of the story is trust no one and keep your feelings to yourself until it is too late to act on them. i’m good at finding morals. also, love is garbage and anyone who tells you otherwise is trying to lead you astray from the light and joy that faux apathy brings. by really, i joke. i mean, if love is garbage and we all deserve garbage, we deserve love. my philosophical depth is awe-inspiring.

elementary school is a haze of bad memories kinda. like there are a few nice bright moments where i felt good about the world and my place in it. but i was pretty damaged as a kid and so it colors every memory in a sadder light if i let it.

they say what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and if that is true, i’m dead.

a little dot in the middle of the nation. the heartland. the midwest. the flyover states.

parts of south dakota are beautiful. the black hills, the badlands. mount rushmore was disappointing even as a child seeing it. i would honestly rather see the crazy horse memorial. it’s supposed to be like ten times larger.

i used to say i wanted to have a house built in the badlands. obviously, it’s state parkland so that is actually illegal. that is the kind of illicit activity that i wanna engage in.

deadwood reminds me of dell rapids. i once told my grandma i would retire there, hahaha. i’ve since changed my mind, but it would be nice to see the place again.

over the weekend my mother and i went to the hindu temple in madrid, iowa. i was nervous. i brought a bouquet of coral-colored roses as a gift, which i thought would be nice for one of the shrines.

i’m going to send a thank you card to one of the priests there, he was very helpful. i didn’t ask many questions, but he answered so well and fully that i didn’t really need to. then this morning i did my presentation, and that went well.

next week i have finals, and i’m dreading it. i keep looking for a way out, but i think the only way out is through.

my one teacher hasn’t emailed me back. freaking typical. on thursday i might go to my advisor. or not. i just talked myself out of it. she won’t be any help. there is no help. all the things that are supposed to be helpful just end up making things worse. booooo everything is terrible. i keep waiting for everything to catch up to me. i’m honestly terrified.

i’m up later than usual. i don’t wanna lay down and sleep. once i’m asleep i’m fine. but before i fall asleep and when i wake up are the worst. every little thing comes to haunt me before i sleep. when i wake up, a new day is beginning. and i waste it. no matter what i do it’s a waste. i know i’m just being negative. that it’s all distorted by my current state. but i can’t see the future and if i did i bet i would be a bit disappointed but not really surprised.

i wonder how the people i care about are doing but don’t reach out to them, because they don’t care about me, i think. if they did, why don’t they reach out to me? lol. it’s like i always have this hope that someone will reach out, because i know i never will. i always have this hope an extrovert will save me. silly. hope is another garbage concept that brings all the pain that we deserve. add it to the list. if i was simply indifferent and accepting of my situation, i would not feel as bad. can’t feel bad about not having that which doesn’t exist. lol, if we all just eliminate love and hope from our lives we’ll be much happier for it. haha i’m so bright. like a gigantic ball of fire soaring through space, i bring the sunshine.

yeah i’m going to just drop and be done with this thinking thing. consciousness is wasted on me.

i’ve never seen the desert before, to be so close to nothing

this one’s a doozy.

it just hit me like a truck while i was trying to fall asleep the other night: i wish i had killed my self years ago. i’ve wasted so much time on earth. i used to think i could be a different person if i was just in a different place. but i’ve lived long enough, and i’ve travelled far enough that i know i will never be able to change.

lol i will never be able to put my family through my suicide tho.

yet i can’t stop thinking about it when each day ends. i’m just tired, i tell myself each night at 1am. do you ever get so tired that suicide seems like the only option. lol i can sleep when i’m dead.

i will probably not kill myself. so who the fuck cares how much pain i am in, right?

sticks and stones will break my bones but words will never hurt, and all that shit, right?

i broke down in the doctor’s office crying when the doc asked if i was okay, after i filled out the stupid depression questionnaire.

i just feel trapped, i told her.

and i do. i feel like a pathetic little animal. like i would rather chew off my own leg than live here. lol.

i love how everyone is okay with how much my life feels like hell, as long as i don’t kill myself and make them feel bad. it isn’t about me, it’s all about them. like people are always saying there are worse things than death, but they don’t believe it. people will say anything to me, all the lies, as long as i don’t make that final step off the edge.

as an abrupt change of subject, we ate indian food after the doctor. it was good and spicy. lol my mom is so oblivious to everything, good for her. she thinks today was a good day.

i would do anything to let everyone remain oblivious in my life. but my resolve is crumbling. i don’t know how much i can keep this shit up. i need to speak to two of my profs and ask them for some sort of leniency for my shit attendance and school-work ethic. the other one is the religion one and since i’m getting more than 100% in that class currently, i’m not too worried.

okay for now i’m done venting to myself. what a great way to end the day: whining.

the walls say only they’ll keep me warm

wrote a paper on hinduism. not my best writing, but it’s done and handed in. i say that every time, not my best writing. i feel like i’ll know when i’ve hit peak.

we had gender jeopardy in class today, men against women, and we tied. no one missed any questions. i’m cool with that. it’s nice.

i didn’t sleep well last night. i was up late writing that stupid paper and couldn’t sleep after that. i dreamt about hindu gods and me, crying in a corner. ’twas weird.

i don’t know what to do. i say that a lot. i feel that a lot.

i called my psychiatrist’s office and hung up without making an appointment. there was an opening for may 18, but i don’t know if i can make it til then, so i just said i needed to think it over. i want to give up and give in so bad but i have too many people whose happiness hinges on my continued existence.

i think that’s why i resent love and hope and all the “good” things. i’m a quitter at heart, and things like them won’t let me quit. plus i just don’t think i deserve anything good deep down.

the hindus would probs believe the reason this life of mine is so miserable no matter what actually happens is that i was a terrible creature in a past life. it’s karma. written in fate. i just deserve this. but i’m not actually hindu soo i guess i cannot accurately describe what they believe with any sort of certainty.

have you ever felt like your entire world is tumbling down around you and you’re losing control of everything, the tenuous grip on sanity you had is slipping, but to everyone else you seem fine as all you do to show your despair is to laugh at your own morbid jokes?

it’s like, if they really loved me, they’d see through all the lies i tell them about how great i am doing.

i’m so sad though. talk about self absorbed: every time i think about suicide i make myself think about the ideal effect my death would have, people would be mourning and shit. so i get all sad thinking about it and i know i can’t do it then, but i get sadder and sadder thinking about my death. and it’s like why bother living when all you do is lay around in your spare time thinking about your own death and bawling. well not like literally all you do but almost, i swear.

 

some notes i have. some lively reflections:

we’re actually all just ants on this giant dirt clod. consoling ourselves with our designated tasks until death comes along, and we curl up and die. lol, does that mean all of the deities are actually sociopathic children with magnifying glasses?

yeah, no.

the words tumbled in my mind: a fluid effervescence a bubbling babbling presence. insanity take away my depression, i don’t see me in the reflection.

see, when the apocalypse takes most of humanity in its maw, we will have to revert back to relying mostly on oral tradition. i am mentally compiling memes so that we doomed few to survive the freakish hellhole that the planet shall become, we precious few shall have history…👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

 

and if love is a drug, i don’t want it, because i don’t have any self control

it’s midnight and i’m in the basement because it’s thundering a tiny bit and lucy is afraid.

i had the usual dream that has become rather unusual as my mind tries to buck away from its habitual obsessions to focus on new ones. the old ones, the old dreams are rare now, and made more precious because of it. also more poisonous.

i’m walking through a party, because i know you’re there. but you’ve left. i look everywhere, and you’re gone. you just left the room. you just turned the corner. it’s like a maze of other people smiling and laughing, and me, alone, looking for you. this time i don’t wind up outside in the snow and stars, the dream doesn’t reach this sad crescendo. it just ends with me realizing you’re not there, not anywhere near me.

the dream is a bit on the nose, lol. real life occasionally mirrors it. i find myself at get-togethers, too afraid to be obvious, to ask if you’re there. so i just wander, looking for you..and of course you’re never there. you’re somewhere else, living a different life. i guess i have to accept that.

the last time i saw you i was a different person with a different agenda, a different heart, a different mind. i didn’t know much about anything outside myself. i don’t even know who you are anymore, and i don’t know who, or how, to ask. i don’t even know why i held on to you in my mind, why i ever found comfort in thoughts of star-crossed love, brought to fruition. that path is gone. it’s dead, with all the others. i guess my mind just hasn’t caught up to reality, which is definitely a theme brought up in my life over and over.

sometimes i feel as though i don’t belong in reality anyway. i’ve spent some time apart and i don’t think it lives up to the hype. oh well. as everyone in my life keeps saying, it is what it is. and there is something so final and concrete about that, that i wanna fight it, because honestly that’s my place, i think, fighting things, ideas, concepts, truths. i sometimes just want to ignore the truth so i don’t have to fight it or accept it fully, but that never works for long. something always reminds me of you and i’m back on the stupid, gaudy, rococo train of thought that i’m pretty sure is love, and though everyone’s always spouting on about it, it is the saddest, most futile thing i’ve ever witnessed myself engaging in. so, as some wise, eloquent, probably long dead person said, that sucks.

and unfortunately i’ve found myself agreeing with the naysayers.

i’m here, and you’re merely a gesture in some vague direction to me. that’s how far apart we are, in body and mind. so yeah, sarah, give up, give in. this idea you hold is dead and you’re just sadly, obstinately oblivious to it half the time. and the other half you’re in mourning for it. just let go.

it is what it is.

i’ve seen america with no clothes on

I DON’T NEED FRIENDS.

I DoN’t NeEd FrIeNds.

i tell this to myself over and over, like a mantra. also, the word “love” keeps popping up in my head, and then i quickly retort you don’t love anybody.” it’s like i’m at war with myself and my emotions.

lol i tried to explain the origins of thanksgiving to admira the other day. she’s bosnian, plus lived in germany for a while after the war/genocide. i couldn’t really make any logical sense of the thanksgiving history myself, ha. so i just gave the usual “we celebrated with the native americans, and it became a tradition to give thanks for good harvest” crap. ha, i didn’t mention the whole racial underbelly of the matter. thought it might be kind of rude to bring up genocide to someone who knows people who died in a genocide. why does everything in history have some ugly side to it? can’t anything be wholesome and pure through and through? like me?

thanksgiving was spent in story city, at brent’s parent’s house. it was boring, i didn’t like the food (i’m so picky, i don’t even like turkey), but it went alright. i like brent’s family well enough, in small doses. it was just his parents, his sister, and one of his brothers. plus my little bro adam was there. he just left a while ago.

gah, one of brent’s nieces wants to go to south-east asia to spread christianity under the guise of teaching english. talk about a double whammy of neo-colonialism. lmao.

when she was in vietnam, her boyfriend flew out to propose to her. she said yes, naturally. she is younger than me. i bet there was a lot of pressure to say yes. like, how do you say no to someone who flew around 8,000 miles to see you? you don’t.

we brought lucy to the vet last week, and she is doing good! the vet said her hips looked good, her flexibility was good, and her teeth looked nice. yet she has cataracts, as she is 15 and diabetic. sooo she is doing as well (or better) than we could have thought. we brought her to the vet because for a few days she was having a hard time going up the stairs, acting confused about them. the vet thinks it might just be her sight; either that or she strained a muscle or something, and so the vet put her on a painkiller for a week. she is going up the stairs fine now, so we’re not as worried.

my mom is in minnesota, at my aunt’s house, making xmas wreaths. it’s a grand affair, taking place in the garage. only the women seem to ever participate these days. the guys are too cool or something. i’m almost too cool. this is the one i made a few years ago:

IMG_0586

lol it looks more springy than christmasy. it’s not too special. i usually make one, get sick of it, and go inside to listen to people talk to each other, and forage through the food.

mom is coming home later today hopefully.

i worked this morning at 6. i woke up at 4:30, and fed lucy, then got ready to go. i was in the CO, countin’ moneys. it’s a blast. actually, i like it. it used to stress me out, because i wasn’t quite sure what i was doing, and kept writing down numbers wrong. i had to go strictly by the notes, step-by-step. now i can do it all by memory. it feels rather good, being good at something for once. man, the deposit for black friday, along with the checks, was around 11,000 dollars. there was 4,500 in just 100$ bills.

oh, and i got 95% on my policy paper. i’ll take it.

lol, and on monday i have another paper due, in the same class. this one is supposed to be a party platform type essay, in which we describe our perfect political party. i’m going to make mine a half-joke, satire thing, i think. it’ll be fun. my usual theocratic dictatorship rubbish that i laugh about. she said it was okay if it was ironic, as long as it followed the rubric. imma start writing it today. exciting!

i can’t remember if i said this, but i was going to enter a creative writing contest, but decided not to, as if i won, i would have to read my piece aloud at some conference thing. ugh, no thanks. makes me kind of regretful already though. i just wrote something really personal, and don’t want to share it personally, out loud. deep down, i’m a shy, scared little introvert who doesn’t like to share with anyone i know or supposedly love.

 

i would kill to make you feel. i’d kill to move your face an inch.

the whole god flooding the world because they are bad thing reminds me of a mother psychotically drowning her children in a bathtub. people generally agree that’s a bad move, am i right? yet in a deity, it’s understandable? lulz, just something i thought about in class today. i’m not serious in the least, of course. about religion or anything, at the moment. i’m on a cloud, or rather, in one.

i wish i were good. i do good things and i do bad things and i am just an average being, i think. i wanna be a saint, tho. not a real saint. just a head-in-the-clouds, larger-than-life, indescribably ill-defined, saint. saint sarah, the vaguely benign.

the whole daca thing has me fuming.. i know a couple of people who are/were protected by it. they’re good. they work hard. they hold the same general values as any other decent human being, and they call this place home.

the world is an uncaring wasteland and people are cruel, petty, selfish things. they are ugly and misshapen at the core of their very self, and i sometimes get sad at night because i don’t believe there is a hell that the truly bad and unforgivable will ever call home. there is only justice in this world if the vaguely benign saints fight for it.

i laughed the other day, at the idea of someone so pious yet so selfish and uncaring that they would deny asylum to another. i imagined this hideous, pious creature, encountering hell at the end of their road. the bewilderment on their face, the confusion. perfection. then of course i felt bad for being so uncharitable myself. saint sarah, the spiteful misanthrope. womp, womp.

i shouldn’t aim for sainthood when i would truly make a great, classically hypocritical, vengeful god. SARAH THE SUPREME. the god-queen of des moines. lmao

ok, back to earthly matters. i am thinking about applying for a study abroad for spring semester, in london. mere thinking. i am not giving myself any unnecessary worry or hope by considering it as anything more than an unlikely hypothetical. i’ll talk to an advisor, dip my toes in the possibility, and go from there.

 

 

i won’t be scared, i won’t defend the things I’ve done

the fourth of july is rapidly approaching. i’m not looking forward to it. fireworks are now completely legal in iowa, so people will be going crazy with them. they have already started. our dog lucy is scared of them, so last night i slept on the couch in the basement, where they can barely be heard by her.

i’m not a big fan of the fourth. a few years ago we went to an air show in sioux falls. that was interesting, but i’m not a huge fan of all the pageantry and trouble people go through to celebrate. i’m getting more cynical in my old age. i wish we were still under british rule. lmao. i wonder how much of an anglophile i would be then..

i wish independance day was like some religious holiday where people were actually  inspired to be nicer, more charitable. instead they get drunk and light off rockets, or watch pretty lights in the sky. i’m going to donate some money to somewhere for the fourth. haven’t decided yet. something cultural, that brings people together.

i had my hair dyed a couple of days ago, just the ends. it’s like an ombre, brown to red. i love it. elaheh loved it so much she wanted to have her picture taken with me. i love her. she is from iran, and we joke that the next time she goes she is going to bring me with her, as impossible as that is at this moment in time. we also joke that she is going to help me learn farsi and i will help her with english. she acts self-conscious about her speaking, even though for the most part she gets her point across, but i can totally empathize with not knowing exactly what you wanna say in another language. it would be seriously frustrating, especially if you are already shy.

i used to have a pen pal from italy, and i struggled to learn italian in a few days so i could speak to him so he would fully understand what i was trying to convey, as his english was passable but not quite fluent. lol i was stupid enough to try google translate, and it was so garbled that it was nonsensical.

adam is still in spain, and he is getting tired of his peers being irresponsible and partying too hard. he is such a buzzkill. i love ‘im.

me and armela did backroom stuff all week at work. stocking, laying clothes out to be hung up, hanging them, and helping unpack the truck. people like her and elaheh make work worthwhile. i tear up when i think about how lucky i am to have met people like them. they inspire me to see the world and take another chance on humanity. to love deeply instead of just shrugging off the emotion as naive and sentimental. love is important. love might not make the world perfect, but it shows you the way. i’m just in a good mood though, lol. i’m totally irrational.

i hope nothing bad happens. terroristy. bless us all on the coming independence day, in the name of love.