born to be down

the world is like a parody that went too far with the material and lost itself in absurdity. i don’t know whether to laugh or cry so i do nothing but wring my hands and wonder where the fuck we went wrong. i wanna leave but there is no distance far enough to escape the insanity, the inanity, the injustice.

times like these remind me why i’m all anti-theology. what sick, twisted mind would come up with a world like this? maybe me, but in an ironic way. but as much as i joke about being a glorious god-queen, i don’t reckon i would be egotistical or sadistic enough to make such a cold world that, as full as it is, often feels so devoid of meaning or i don’t know; resolution or something. like, where is the clarity? we’re all among the filth and muck and we will never be clean, we’ll just be dead. sometimes the best part of a story is the end, and the world contains many of these stories.

as much as some people aspire towards something bright and white-washed pure, they are such brutal, repugnant monsters that deserve nothing but their own miserable company. do they not see what a joke it is that they pretend moral righteousness while they lie, cheat, steal, rape, murder, covet, et cetera?

i look across at the multitudes and i see nothing good among them sometimes, just lesser evils. i don’t want to be the unforgiving type, but why forgive someone when they are not asking for anything like forgiveness? they are past feelings of conscience. and i’m not here to play jiminy cricket to their lying-ass peter pan bullshit. i get sick of having to be patient and kind and understanding while on the inside i seethe and boil over. or better yet, rant online.

sorry this was so dark. i swear i’m not even down or anything. i’m past feeling anything but a slow disdainful shake of the head made into a feeling.

i’ll still see you in everything

tl; dr: i’m sad but it’s all okay. lol why didn’t i just type that to begin with. could’ve saved myself so much time.


i try not to say too much to people sometimes, because i’m terrified, honestly, of saying something i’ll regret. saying something wrong. even online, i kick myself sometimes for speaking up to people in forums. i am really rather opinionated, about all sorts of dumb things, but half the time people wouldn’t know it because i don’t say anything.

i have not yet regretted staying silent, but i have regretted things i have said. not to say that there’s anything wrong with standing up for what you believe in. i’m just obsessed with being right, so what if later on i find out my thought process was flawed, or i was just flat out wrong in what i said? i can’t continuously issue retractions and clarifications on things i have said. i’d look like a constantly erroneous idiot. like our president, for instance. though i couldn’t actually see he who must not be named admitting he was wrong or restating things in a clear, intelligible manner. what was it he said, again? covfefe? lol, it will always be funny and sad to me.

idk… i guess i worry too much about everything. i just gotta realize most people don’t care what i say, lol. they aren’t going to be picking apart my words and phrases with the same care in which i would.

something’s been bothering me the last few days.

my brother is actually my half-brother, with a different father than mine. his dad has turned into quite an awful person. no. he’s always been awful. he told my brother that he was a disappointment. and this is after my brother graduated college, and is going to be moving to minneapolis, minnesota to work as an emt to gain clinical hours, so he can then go to school to be a physician assistant. he is a smart, talented, capable kid, who any good father would be proud of.

but, to make it about me, as usual. i cried at the idea of my brother being told he was a disappointment, almost scoffed at it, as my mom said something similar about me being a disappointment years ago when i was at a particular low. and this was during a time when i had nobody but my mom. people just like to kick when you’re already down.

it’s ironic. her acting all angry and dismayed that he could be such a terrible person to say that to his son. as if it were anywhere near enough to the truth to hurt?! when she has said something identical to her daughter?!

i guess it’s okay to say it if it’s obviously true.

to hear her getting upset about adam’s dad, who has never been an actual father to his son, saying it to adam, who is probably the most well-rounded and well-adjusted sibling i have, i don’t know. it’s preposterous. adam has done nothing in his life but succeed. his father has no right to say anything to adam because he has done nothing to help him in his life. in no way shape or form has adam ever been a disappointment.

i remember in math class, too many years ago, my teacher saying that ‘good things happen to good people= good. bad things happening to bad people=good’ et cetera to explain multiplying positive and negative numbers. i remember thinking i must be either a bad person to feel so bad for good things happening to me, or a good person who feels bad for having bad things happen to me. lol as if life makes as much sense as math.

it simply hurts that my mom doesn’t see how much she hurt me but immediately worries about adam’s stupid feelings about his stupid dad. i don’t even think she remembers saying it to me.

but sometimes it’s all i remember. that’s what’s mind-boggling too: how can something that is so insignificant to her that she doesn’t even think of it, even when a mirror situation presents itself, be something i think of almost every day.

and why do i even care so much? i don’t know. i guess it is because my mom is probably the only person who has ever really loved me, in spite of things, unconditionally. with my dad, he loves me, but only if i act a certain way. he loves me, but only under certain conditions. i bet i could chase him away with the horror that is my reality, easy.


in other news, i fell into the clickhole that is youtube, watching clips from futurama. classic show, really. great moments. i’m trying to connnect this vid to something in my life, anything, to justify its presence here. here it is:


tagging myself: i’m the train that crashed into the other train. also, the governor lady.




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 ain’t circling ’round for saviors

i’m feeling really feverish and lo and behold i have a fever. i feel like pacing. in fact it’s like in my mind, i am pacing. and my face keeps making this sad/anxious expression, brow raised, worried.

what does sanity even feel like? is it like happiness, you only really notice it when it’s gone?

i wanna cry and laugh until every person in the room goes from surprise and concern to boredom, and finally leaves me. cuz really, i just wanna be alone. i don’t even wanna be with my self. my tattered shredded pathetic white flag of a self.

with the oversaturation of media, and endless consumption of various conflict coverage, i don’t know. i just wanna give up a lot. i’m constantly waving that stupid white flag, sometimes when there is not even a “real” fight. for some reason, i feel like a little stick figure endlessly falling, burning, or drowning, in a version of a physics simulation game like falling sand or burning sand or something like this game, circa 2007. yeah, i just spent a while sidetracked with that game. it’s a great game to spend a lot of time on, with nothing, or very little, to show for it. like minecraft. i’m really “good” at games like that.

i guess i still want to be an optimist about the world that has nothing to do with me. but it’s a half-assed hope, like: yeah, we’ll all probably survive, if we don’t die first. so not really hope at all, but humor. laughing is keeping me going. laughing and crying until every person in the room goes from surprise and concern to boredom, and finally leaves me.


yeah, i don’t know..

i guess i’m back being a depressed piece of shit who makes grand declarations to be better one day and overdoses on clonazepam to sleep and blacks out, the next.

i really don’t know.

last night i really thought it was going to be it. i’m like, i wanna be dead or hospitalized by the time this night is through. and here i sit, neither. thought about even texting my therapist, but i doubted it would make anything better so i didn’t.

i don’t know how to describe the feelings i feel. have you ever overdosed on medications, fell asleep, and woke up, not sure if you are disappointed or relieved? yeah, me neither, lol.

i just feel ugly and twisted, on the inside. every way to every positive or even just rational thought is just a labyrinth that can’t be overcome, that i just don’t have the energy to traverse sometimes.

you know, it’s funny, the thing that set me off was so dumb. this girl i’ve known for years deleted me off facebook. i don’t know when and i don’t know why, but hey, its okay, my mind does. it’s because she hates me. no, that’s not believable, i’m not dynamic enough to hate. it’s just that she realized, as she saw my name pop up on her little facebook friends thing, that she just didn’t give a shit about me. that i’m just not worth being connected to in any way. and then i thought this thought, about all of the people on facebook. they all think i’m just a big piece of not-worth-mentioning.

and then of course my mind just goes into overdrive of negativity. i think about all the people, all of the so-called friends i have online, irl, everywhere, and how they never even spend a minute of their day thinking about me.

that’s one of the main reasons i get sick of being friends with people. they never give a shit about me. i think it’s going great and i do every little stupid friendly thing i can think of. but it’s for nothing. i could slit my fucking wrists and bleed out in public, all melodramatic style, and years later i would just be a somewhat sad cautionary tale for them. something they aspire to never be. they wouldn’t remember me, they would remember that last hurrah of blood. idk…

i just really hurt for no real, apparent reason. i didn’t even really like said girl on facebook very much. i never got the impression she liked me that much, either.

it just hurts, because i bust my ass trying to seem normal and kind, nice and well-adjusted, and i’m pretty sure people just end up seeing right thru it, if only in a subconscious way. i just wanna be liked. i don’t care if i’m loved, i just want people to be mildly fond of me. i can’t even freaking manage mildly fond.

today at work i spent the whole time just fuming on the inside, crying on the inside, screaming, all on the inside. on the outside, i laughed at people’s jokes and tried to make myself useful. i thought i could salvage what was left of my emotional sanity if work just went well enough. it didn’t go well enough. i’m home now, and i’m honestly thinking about how fucking shit everything is. in my little world, in the whole world, shit, shit, shit. we can go on twitter and joke about it all we want, we can have polite discussions about it all we want, but it doesn’t change the truth.

but hey, again, i don’t know.


an evolution, the only way i can explain anything

it’s around 8am. i’ve been awake since 5. i was going to sleep in but really couldn’t, thanks to lucy. so i woke up, fed her, and then brent walked her. when she came back in, i said bye to brent (he went to work). i brought luce upstairs, intending to go back to sleep for a couple of hours.

i was just settling in when i heard a crash of something glass outside my door. it was the light above the stairs. the covering fell off rather weird and randomly, hit the banister, and shattered all over the stairs. so of course i shooed the stupid cats away from the shards and picked up the larger pieces and vacuumed the stairs and the room below of the smaller pieces. and now i’m still awake, down on the couch. the cats are reappearing after the terror of the vacuum.

if i was the type to say it was eerie, tho, it was eerie. why did the light covering fall? i think i have just discovered the power gravity has over us, hahaha. one minute we’re drifting asleep, the next we’re staring at the sharp, shattered remains of our peaceful slumber.

ugh the las vegas shooting has me annoyed by people’s (american people’s) weird fetish-level sentimentality about guns. brent compared the banning of the sale of a device that increases rate of fire (the bump stock thing), to the banning of cars because of drunk drivers. lol wat????? how is that all similar. last time i checked, BRENTON, automatic weapons didn’t have much use outside of spraying bullets into crowds. cars are a necessary evil in today’s everyday, civvie world. they, you know, help us get from point A to point B. automatic weapons, not so much.

he isn’t even interested in guns, so i don’t fucking get it.. he’s just dumb, i tell myself. not bad or evil or whatever. not his fault. he was in a car accident when he was younger. traumatic brain injury and the whole shebang. people can’t help being stupid. then of course i feel bad. just because he has a differing opinion does not mean he is stupid. there are tons of other, better reasons he is stupid beyond simple negative versus positive liberty opinions.


people say that they aren’t religious, they’re spiritual. i’m not even spiritual. well, i don’t think i am. does it count as spiritual if one wishes fantasy/sci-fi novels were real? ’cause if that’s the case, i’m spiritual like to infinity. yeah, turn life into a freaking fantasy world. then i’ll be happy with it all.


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.