Awakening

It's been 20 years.



Now what?



Where do we go from here...

FINALLY!!!!!!

If there's a God, THANK YOU for letting me see this day... and to the rest of my comrades in arms... smile for a second today. Today was a GOOD day.

Score one for the good guys!

To those in government who made life hell for millions, most especially in the states of Alabama, South Carolina, Utah and also to groups such as the Family Research Council...

FUCK YOU

The way I see it

Depression: When your dreams are more interesting than the rest of your life.

Killing the shadows

If I think of you and start punching, it's very good that I do not connect with anything.

(060503)

Want to BLARE it

BLAST it

into my ears.


Makes it all go away



I HATE you.


kiss kiss
bang bang


smile smile smile


stifle stifle stifle


forgive forgive forgive


It's all good.

paper shredding

Filled a garbage bag.


It's slow going, but I know that in the end, I'll feel better.

purge purge purge

601am050703

I don't know what I'm doing. Probably just trying not to kill myself. That's about all I do every day... come up with reasons not to. Fear and guilt help. You know... afraid of the pain of it, not wanting anyone I care about to have to deal with my corpse. Hope dwindles daily... as does my tolerance.

6:27 AM

I keep thinking about the thousands of pages of writing I have... binder after binder. I keep thinking about how good it would feel to get rid of it all.

I'm not sure what I'm afraid of. I have a brain. I might fuck up now and again, but it does hold onto some memories accurately. Do I really need to keep years of e-mails and forum posts? Does it really matter? What's it all worth? Even I can't read through it all there's so much. If I trash it, does it completely invalidate my life? Who am I trying to prove what to? Do I really need proof that people are assholes? That for some odd reason I've met a lot of people who seem to enjoy shitting on me?

I remember going to San Fran... how good it felt when I was down to just a few bags of stuff. Now I've got so much I need a whole room just for it.

Then, am I desiring to be rid of my stuff just because my head feels cluttered? Is it one of those psycho things?


*opening another beer*


It's not that I don't want to "fix" my life... I don't even know if it's really broken. I know that I'm not a happy person. I know that I'm full of pain and bitterness. I know that I'm, as Jk. used to say, "tortured".

So, what is a "tortured" person supposed to do? I'm tortured by my own life... my own past... my own surroundings... my own head. What should I do? Blow it off?