Wednesday, March 4, 2015

so i finished a project at work.

a big one.  like.  the biggest project ever to be projected onto someone to do.

this is a good thing.  i can relax somewhat compared to the last year.  six months.  whatever.

so i'm totally taking off time next week.  to get my car looked at.  and my brain, if we can schedule that close.  i'm not sure on that last thing.

i'm sorry i'm so crap all the time.  i'm sorry i apologize for me being me.  i'm sorry that everyone can't live the life they dream of all the time.

i'm sorry i'm the worst communist ever, and that i'm not always helping you do better things and achieve more.

i'm sorry i feel so awful about how shitty i feel everyday.

i know dealing with my crazy can't be easy.  i know you probably just want me to write more porn.  i want to write more porn.  my brain is nearly three stories ahead of what i can put down.  this is like getting your dessert before your appetizer.  i get that.  sorry.

i want you all to know that even when you comment with like, "pshaw, sammy.  just do you, ok?"

i know that's just code for "ok, that's fine.  but if you could tame your crazy more, that'd probably be best for everyone."

and yes, i know that.

i have half a bottle of (probably a few years old) antidepressants.  i often look at them and think about taking some.  they fucked up my sex drive super hard.  but i could coast through life a lot more.  things weren't so harsh to deal with.

so i see them, and think about how much i could maybe do better.

sorry about this all.  i wish i could just push this all into a box.

and burn that box.


that's the label on this post, i guess.

Monday, March 2, 2015

ok, seriously, listen here, this isn't the point of this, but this was just here, and then like whoa.

so hawaii.

pidgin phrase here.  i guess.  i was brought up to not do pidgin.  like smack in the face no pidgin.


we have one theater company here, so if you're seeing movies, you're going there, or there, or there, or there, or there, or there, or there.

i usually go there, because they're cool there, and then i can eat wieners.  chrome, you just ruined a cool joke.

hot dogs.  they have hot dogs ready so when you're late the movie, you can get in quick.

and i'm always late.

and this is where i saw frozen, the best movie ever.

but everything is owned by one company, so when you go to the movies, you see this:


if you're 5? you see this.

you're 16?  you see this.

you're gross and old and late 20s? (we know how old you are, sammy, but) yes. everyone sees this.

consistency is the best thing to realize when you find out you're crazy.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

like this:

i woke up today, a bit earlier than usual for a sunday, watched some junk on the internet, read a bit, then decided to get clean and go have lunch.  "i'll figure out what after a shower."

so i showered, dressed, and sat down on my couch with my laptop.  "hmmm...burgers?"

"no, that doesn't sound good today."


"do i need any groceries?  it's right by the store."

"no, i went yesterday."

"let's see what yelp suggests."

followed by an hour of browsing yelp.  then i looked at something else.  "no!  i have to figure out what to do for lunch, because there's lots to do, and none of that can happen until after lunch!"  so then i spent another hour looking at yelp, looking at individual neighborhoods, and changing price ranges, and trying to find a place.  "how about that? i've only been once, but it was pretty good."

doesn't open until 4, and it's only 3:15 now, so that's way too far in the future.  "ok, how about that place?"  closes at 4, and now it's 3:20, and i can't get there in time and eat before they're going to be closed, and i don't want to make them wait for me to finish.

and then i had a panic attack and had to drink some water and put the laptop down until i stopped hearing my heart in my ears.

"that's all stupid shit to be worried about, sammy"

yes.  i know.  this is what makes it so difficult.  i'm not freaking out over breaking a leg or something.  i'm freaking out about not knowing what i want for lunch, and progressively freaking out more and more as that feeling continues.

i eventually went to get a sandwich.  that's how this plays out.  stupid turkey between some stupid bread.

it was tasty.  i shouldn't be mean to the sandwich because it took me hours to find it.

and i guess i didn't have to panic delete everything on my blog?  Mr. Christopher says there's a thing where they're not actually going to shut it all down?

why did the first thing need an email, and this is just a forum post somewhere?  doesn't this deserve an email too?


Friday, February 27, 2015

just in case it isn't blindingly clear to everyone

  1. i have severe mental illness.  i should be going to therapy, but i'm so overworked at work that i don't have the time to take off to go to see a therapist.
    1. because therapists have to work normal hours too, because we're not so horrible to make them deal with crazy people when they should be with their families.
    2. and no, i can't just take time off from work.  because i have to have money for food, duh.
  2. i promise i'll go to therapy in the next six months.  i think i can schedule things out so that that all works.  i really hate where i'm at right now, and it's a bad place.
    1. partially because there are really only two options at this point:
      1. i kill myself in a probably messy manner, and ignore everything after that.
      2. i keep drinking and eating badly until my heart just decides to stab my brain with fat cells.
  3. i drink too much, because you can't just buy xanax at the store, but you can buy vodka, and for a short, fleeting moment, vodka can replicate the results of xanax, if you don't mind puking the next morning.
    1. if you drink propel water in the morning, you get to taste the super sweet not-sugar they use when you puke it up.
      1. it's kind of the best way to puke, if you're going to puke.
        1. but you probably shouldn't puke if you can, because that's kind of gross.
          1. and not a lot of fun to do, anyway.
      2. "oh!  this puke tastes like fake grapes! Yummy!"
  4. i do have more stories i'd like to tell.  i want to put them in order and send them out.  i can't.  see point 1 if you're confused why this is the case.
    1. it's this whole thing of wanting to write, and then doing so, and then hating everything i've written, and then there's a battle of trying to rewrite the bad things, and write new not-bad things, and then just giving up and deleting everything except for the notes, and going back three weeks later.
    2. over and over and over again.
    3. do you want spoilers?
      1. the next part is essential to the over-arching love story i bolted on after i wrote the first part.
      2. but it's zero sex, and kind of feels super contrived at points
      3. so i'm not sure people will like or care about it
      4. so i have to make sure it works, right?
      5. because if it doesn't, then no one will want to read the next-next part, which does have sex.
        1. right?
        2. checking....
        3. ok, no, not actual sex, but that's totally got the kink going on, so maybe it's ok?
        4. crap.  i hit backspace and fucked up the numbers.  how do i fix this?  return?
        5. nope.
      6. fuck

      7. shit.

      8. go backwards, you jerks!
      9. pretend this is now 4.4.  
        1. but why does this matter?  i don't really know any of you.  i'd be sad if Mr. Christopher or Mr. Veterinarian or Key (title unknown) didn't like it, but most of the other hundreds of people who show up in my "blog view count" thingy i don't know.
        1. so maybe i shouldn't care? and just do my own thing?
        2. but maybe you do care?  and you're just as concerned as me?
        3. and don't forget the Jesse who comments, who's Jesse as in Jesse from Sammy's Blog.
        4. Pikachu.
          1. why are you talking about pokemon, sammy?
            1. because sometimes i find pokemon pictures on tumblr and i forget that i'm old and gross and not like 12 again.
            2. and because i edited this post, so for this point to be at all relevant, i have to add something else.
              1. deal with it.
      10. but getting to the point, if i'm writing for me, why does anyone else's opinion matter?  it shouldn't, because i really just want to say what makes me happy.  because if i can't be happy with my own thoughts, what's going to happen to me?
      11. point 1.  point 4.1.
      12. so
    4. i want to write more stories.
  5. i'm really sorry i'm so fucked up.  i wish i were better at pulling my brain together and dealing with things like everyone else.  i wish i didn't immediately see the worst things that could ever happen if i do what i think is best.
    1. when you can only see horrors for all of your actions, it's hard to choose an action to take.
    2. i'm sorry if you sent me a message, and i saw it while so super super drunk, and then i responded with absolute nonsense.  i've been better at not responding drunk recently, but this past week has been hard.
    3. i wish i had a secret backup story i could pull out so people would be happy.
      1. i don't.
      2. sorry.
  6. i know some people will say nice things in the comments.  that's great, but you don't really need to.  pretty much any comment is fine for me.  i know that "did you know that orangutans are threatened by habitat loss brought on by the deforestation caused by palm oil farming?" is functionally the same as "i don't hate you, sammy.  i know you'll get better and write cool stuff again."
    1. but seriously, i'm so sad about the orangutans, but i can't call girl scouts "fucking monsters" because their cookies use palm oil.
      1. especially when i'm buying like 9 boxes.
        1. and because you shouldn't swear at little kids, because then it's all "you're the jerk" and you try to explain about the orangutans, but no one really wants to listen, and seriously, this is probably a bit advanced for even the parents you're shouting at.
          1. so.
            1. :(
    2. and thanks.  i'm trying my best, and i know i'm failing right now, but maybe next week, next month, next year, i'll sort shit out, and get into a better place, and we can all just perv out together.
      1. that'd probably be weird.
      2. we could just all apologize a bit, and then go have pizza or something.
        1. or, you know.  pizza.
          1. mandatory pizza.
            1. for everyone.
              1. everywhere.
                1. PIZZA
        2. now i kind of want pizza.

  • numbered
    • or bulleted lists
  • are kind of
    • cool
    • useful
    • fun to write.
  • sorry.
    • :(

Thursday, February 26, 2015

just in case:

i made a new blog which will hopefully be clean in the purge.

hopefully i've sanitized this enough that google won't burn it all down.  if google does burn it all down, send me a message, and i'll try to see if sending you the thing i got from google makes sense to you.

i have no clue how to make a sammy808.atom file make sense.  it's like text, but all i seem to find is comments, and not my stuff?  if you want the google thing, you probably want the image links i can't have anymore.  are they there?  who knows?  not me, anyway.

so, hey, great job google/blogger. you got me to make three blogs to talk about how fucked up i am.  congratulations?

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

anyone else get that "last days of the world" apocalypse feeling, where you kind of don't care what you say or do, because this is all going up in flames tomorrow?


not tomorrow.

march 23, i guess, because google has no sense of style.

"He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass."

i mean, it's right fucking there.  "let's close shit up in march, when should we do it?"

"we could do an allegory to julius-"


"ok, march 23.  let's do that."


what should we talk about, knowing that less than thirty days from now, all this will be wiped out forever.  condemned to the dust?

"are you out of vodka, sammy?"

yes.  totally out of vodka.  no gin, no vodka, no jack.  is jack a valid liquor?  i have no whiskey now, not even the jack daniels.  i like this taste in my tea.  i should buy more of the jack daniels to put into tea to drink whilst pretending i'm totally not the alcoholic i was a few months ago.


i'm totally the same alocoholic.  i'm just better at not posting drunken rants.

"oh, but what's this you're doing?"

whatever.  fuck you.  like, seriously.  take something, and go fuck yourself with it, in whichever hole is appropriate.  like i ever cared about you.  you're just some jerks on the internet, trying to coax me into sending me nudes.  i'm gross now, dumbasses.  i'm all fat and i don't shave much, and it's all just gross on top of gross.  want nudes?  want to puke?

ok, that's a bit harsh.  i should not treat the end of the world quite so harshly.  i mean, it's not like people are going to die or anything.  we're just going to have blogs that are read by no one, and no one will ever care about people named sammy.

which, honestly, is probably the best thing.  i'm a bad person, and i do dumb things.  i'm not someone you should look up to.  i'm the warning you should have seen in high school:

"Here we see a decadent woman.  She's lost her sense of control.  Now, all she can think about is her own carnal desires."


i saw a thing today that was like, "the horrors of communist lesbian bondage."

my thought: "OMG: HOW CAN I GET THAT?"

i mean, you're going to tie me up, force me to be super friendly with cool chicks, and then, when we're done, we're going to topple the patriarchal bourgeoisie so we can eat waffles and mac&cheese forever?


how is this not a thing i can do right now?

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

i am so glad i found some xanax from last time i had a prescription.

my heart no longer feels like it's going to shoot out of me, and my brain is delightfully less concerned with everything.

i hate having panic attacks all the time.


seven left.  i need to go talk to a doctor soon.