so let us not talk falsely now

we are catsitting bootsie again for a couple of weeks. he is the cutest. though he is easy to trip over as he will follow ya around anywhere. lol i caught a pic of him with his tongue out:

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the moving process is really getting to my mom. there is just so much to do and she doesn’t know where to start. it’s so overwhelming. today i’m going to start changing out doorknobs for her at least. i don’t actually know how to yet, but i figure there’s a youtube video for that.

her interview in virginia went really well. she was offered the job and more: they said she should also apply for a supervisory position that was open, as she would most likely get it instead. she is happy, but would probably be starting november 10, which is looming too close for comfort.

i’m most likely going to give my two weeks notice sometime in the next few days, which is crazy. i just got a pin and a certificate that shows that i have been there for five years. insanity. i always tell people i meant to quit within the first few weeks and just never followed through.

it rains constantly. i love it, i hate it. there are worms out everywhere, covering the sidewalk and even the street. i feel a stupid hero thing where i feel as though i have to rescue every single stupid one or i’m a moderately bad person, but i try to ignore it. i try to tell myself that you can’t save every single thing in the world. lol i guess i’m moderately bad then.

years ago at my aunt’s house in the minnesota countryside, in the barn, i was alone. my mom and aunt were in town, getting groceries or something. there was a kitten that was fading, dying rapidly for seemingly no reason. it was probably around 7 weeks old? i was around 7 or 8 years old, and was so confused and terrified.

my cousin was supposed to be watching me but was upstairs playing video games with his friend. i remember bringing the kitten inside and bundling it up in a towel, as it was growing so cold. i checked its gums, not knowing really what to do. they were so pale. ha, i even brought the kitten back into the barn to its mother, who was an untame feral. in my helplessness, i hoped she would somehow help it. but she wouldn’t come near. i tried giving the kitten water, but it was totally lethargic and wouldn’t drink.

so anyway, the kitten ended up dying within the hour. i was heartbroken. i brought it out to the end of the grove, where a soybean field met the trees. i buried it, still wrapped in the towel, under an oak as the sun set.

i don’t know if i told my mom right away about the kitten. i felt like it was my fault, even at that idiotic age. probably more so than i would now. kids are rather irrational and simplistic about blame i suppose. i held a grudge against my cousin for years for not being there for me.

i think instances in my life like that one kitten have shaped my moral compass rather severely. i had bad anxiety even swimming in my grandma’s pool growing up as i felt the need to rescue drowning insects, feeling like if i failed to try, i was losing sight of the preciousness of even the smallest life.

idk, i think it’s probably some sort of disorder, haha. i wish i was humblebragging or the like, but i actually find this whole quality of mine detrimental instead of helpful in most instances. i am all too ready to let myself suffer emotionally or physically if it means helping someone or something else. i have a terrible perspective on the measure of other lives versus my own. it usually ends up hurting me in the long run. awareness is suffering, existence is pain, yadda yadda yadda. i guess i just feel like if you help, sometimes it’s useless and for nothing. but how do you know until you try? and if i didn’t try, i’d regret it. if i do try, sometimes i regret it too tho. so try, don’t try. who really cares. i’ll probs feel a bit bad no matter what i do. might as well continue trying for the sake of neurotic consistency.

 

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’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.

once i thought being lost was only a part of being young, but the old man in the bed next to your cot was screaming louder than anyone

i hate when i get to know someone and then wish i hadn’t. people can be so ugly on the inside.

why is it when literal nazis march, people just shrug and spout the tired old “freedom of speech”, but when someone kneels during some stupid dinosaur of a song, people get almost apoplectic with rage. a song at a football game has nothing to do with veterans. the whole act has nothing to do with veterans. i know many americans have such a hard-on for the military that they just have to relate everything under the sun back to glorious War™ and its various members, but come on, be real. i come from a long line of military folks, and i’m not so vain that i equate a simple, unobtrusive form of protest against the institutional racism faced by people of color, with an attack against my family. i’m not as selfish, self-centered or self-involved as that, at least.

i think its because the white right-wingers secretly (or not-so-secretly) relate more to the struggles (lol struggle: kampf, get it?) of nazis than they do african-americans.

also, have you noticed that when you say something simple like “black lives matter”, and don’t say anything about white people, right-wingers are up in arms, angry that people have the audacity to disclude them in that, so they quickly retort, in a nasally, irritating voice, i presume, that,  “ahem, all lives matter.” 

i, too, am uncomfortable when we are not about me.

even when segregation was abolished in the dear old hospitable south, it was basically a forced enterprise. our dear nether-neighbors equated mixing of the races to communism. basically, tho, anything that they didn’t like was communism. lol, like walt disney, with the writer’s strike. he said there was a communist conspiracy out to get him. he wasn’t unfair, communism was unfair. not that i’m a fan of communism, don’t get me wrong. i’m not for any sort of hard-line political ideology.

i remember hearing about a catholic school that desegregated in the south, and basically they threatened the people with excommunication if they did not integrate. hilarious. people care more about the afterlife than they do life.

oh yeah, and i’m not going to be a dictator for life anymore, i’m going to be a theological dictator. basically, if i don’t like you, you can no longer reside in paradise, i.e. my presence, so you are deported to hell, also called europe. lolololol. no. i think it’s the other way around.

i am the satan in this whole setup, anyway.

my mom said that one of her patients at the VA had some kind of weird flashback, and he told her to “take the clothes of the dead and redistribute them among the living.” like what kind of war was he fighting in? it was at the same time sad, funny, and disturbing. so, life as usual.

 

the years burn

i’m feeling rather stilted and formal today.

i enjoy having some people around because of the novelty of them. like, this one person i know is someone i consider a friend simply because i know they are waay more idealistic than i. they are strong in their beliefs.

i’m a total flip-flopper. i am swayed by a slight breeze.

i just know at the end of the day, this person i know is going to be the same. they can weather the storm. and if they broke, i swear i would cry. ’cause that would truly spell the end, if they couldn’t tell right from wrong anymore. because if they can’t, who can? certainly not a grey creature such as i? no, i’m meant for the morally uncertain ground, never quite sure if i’m villainous in my thoughts or something better.

and i truly love this friend of mine, because they are so just. they are kind when others don’t think to be. and that is beautiful to me.

i’m probably a little condescending in my thoughts of this person at times, because they seem almost guilelessly angelic to me, i just want to write them off at my cynical lows as just that: stupid. but they always do something to remind me that they have some sort of wit about them, and i am amazed all the more.

lol i still feel sometimes i am clapping at a child doing some sort of mundane thing, or praising a puppy for peeing outside as they should, but i swear i do have the utmost of regard for this person. in this world we live, as it always has been, it is difficult to find those kind of people you can set apart and truly call good. the rest are down in the mud with me.