Thursday, July 31, 2014

sorry, everybody

i'm going to do a sad poor-sammy post again.

but i don't have people to vent to in real life, so i put my sad angry feelings here, and that helps somewhat.

i've been re-trying my ambien the last few days to see if they help me sleep better.

turns out that led to me getting a popsicle at whatever-am, falling asleep with it on my face in bed, and leaving the freezer door open.

so i had a fun morning throwing out everything in my freezer and cleaning up all the icky juice shit it all left behind.

and then i go to work, and it's just explosion of shit after explosion of shit.  i just don't even want to deal with it anymore.

which leads to cutting thoughts.

because everything leads to cutting thoughts now-a-days.

and that's when i sit back, and look at some cute animal pictures, and try to not cry all night long.

because i'm afraid that if i start crying, i'll start bleeding again.

i hate this life.  more than i've hated anything ever.  i hate that i break down like this, and i hate that i have to dump it out for people to see to keep me from hurting myself.  this isn't right, this isn't cool, and the fact that this is the best way for me to deal with things is just horrible.


i really don't post these looking for sympathy or shit like that.  i just don't have another way to vent any of my anger.  i could tell the jerk in my office to "go the fuck home, because if you cough every ten seconds, you're probably sick, fuckhead!" but then my boss would have to deal with hr issues, and i shouldn't dump my issues on others.  i could tell my other boss to stop being so stupid, but he's dealing with a kid, and so sometimes he's dumb because he went home early.

basically, i could yell at people, but that wouldn't do anyone any good, so i get this build up of angry yells, and they don't have a target i'm willing to point them at, so they start eating up into me.

so i get more sads than usual, and then i have a cry out with you.

sorry that you have to listen to my crazy rambles and rants, when a lot of you just wish i'd finish the next part of that story.  i'm trying.  it's about half done?  i really like the ending of this one, so i wish i could just get to it and show you all.  i'm tempted to put up a "here's the outline" thing, but then it'd be lots of spoilers, and you'd get bored when the real story didn't live up to your expectations from the outline.

sigh.

i hate being such a failure and having everyone think i'm so great when i'm not.

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

wtf, 1950s


so...the "bull dyke" cuddled up against her and gave her kisses?

we're not the cause of problems.  it's just making everyone feel happy if they want to.

and i can't imagine that happened on the floor.  "are you ok?  let's more to the bed, maybe?  it's softer, and the table isn't in the way.  come on, we'll have more fun there."


this is just liek how ole white dudes imagined how lesbians acted.

lame


Tuesday, July 29, 2014

so i figure, let's try to work out this insomnia some more

i have a pile of ambien from when i was prescribed it.  so i figured i'd take one, get the sleepies, and coast off to a smooth early night in bed.

i took it at 9:30.  it's now 2am.  the sleepies have won, and they've brought reinforcements back with them from the land of sleepitude.  certain things on my computer screen are now randomly 3d.  like.  not computer game three day.  they pop out towards me on the screen.

i'm super wobbly when i move.  it's like all the rest of my body got the "ok, go to sleepytown" message, and they sent that to the "filter your sensations through this set of limits of reality" part of my brain.  i'm guessing, though, that "actual living perception of the self" doesn't check the mail very often, and so now me, and it (also me) have to kind of puppet this me along physically and mentally, and it so feels like we have to poke awake everyone to get things done.  "hey.  legs.  we're going to pee, get up and get us over to the toilet."  "gah...FINE"

"hey.  bladder.  we're peeing because you're all 'gots some pee down here!' get on with it"  "whatever, we'd probably be fine."  "yeah.  let's give it a go anyway, right?"

"hey, what if my hair dryer is actually watching me, and is silently laughing about how I nearly tripped on the bathmat."

i just wanted to get to sleep earlier so i could wake up earlier tomorrow and not spend my day in a haze of tired.  instead, i get to fight through the lamest fake horror dream my brain can come up with.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

deep breath time.

so.

i've been lazy with that story.  i know how it ends, and that soothes a lot of the crazy in my brain, so it's harder to write than if i were making it up as it goes.

because, let me tell you, the making it up part took a lot of time, and a lot of... um... "exercise."

but i know i need to write it all out, and get it out, and let other people see the stuff in my brain that i live with.  it's how things work.

so i'll try to get on that more, and stop just reading other porn until... um... "things aren't as important."


this week has been especially hard, because my boss was all "you're doing a great job."

when you spend most days thinking you're just barely clawing on to things, hearing that is kind of a roller coaster.

"wow, he's really happy with what i'm doing!"

"but you suck at everything, so he's clearly just being lied to!"


which is great, really, if you already have that straitjacket strapped onto you, and know that that's not coming off anytime soon.


but i'm stuck being "not sexy crazy," so it just ramps up the anxiety.

which makes me lazier.

which makes that story even further off.



super sorry, everyone who likes stories.  i'm trying.


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

so i guess this means the insomnia is back

who likes tacos?

i mean, tacos are just wonderful right?

i really wish i had a taco right now, or like, a pile of tacos.

but then i want to trade up to soft tacos, because if you have a pile of hard tacos, the shells get all soggy and that sucks.

but if you have a bunch of soft tacos, wouldn't a burrito be better?  and not like a lame taco bell burrito, one of the ones from an actual burrito place.

i guess chipotle is the popular one? whenever i visit the mainland, my friend takes me to a qdoba, which seems like it's the same, but whatever, i don't know.

super delicious.

and i'm hungry now, and kind of wish i had that to eat now.  it's just like a pile of salty spicy flavor to make your tummy happy.


this is why insomnia sucks.  because you remember things from a year ago, and that spawns new thoughts that make you hungry, and then you think that you could only ever sleep after you go get some mexican food at 2:30am.

i mean,

i'd even be happy with shitty taco bell.


Monday, July 21, 2014

two things, and i should try not to do late night posts in the future.

thing 1:  remember when i liked this story, and suggested other people might as well?  there are more parts now, and i just read them today, and i liked them as well, but i totally hate sophia.  she's just awful, and the fact that i feel so strongly about a character in a story says something.

i really wish i could do dialogue as well as jess does.  it's just so fluid and natural, and i tend to gag characters just so they don't have to say anything.  i should work on that.

thing 2: i keep getting "go read this group" things on motherless for this creepypasta thing.  my understanding is that this works by taking a story that's like "something spooky was hidden in darkness.  it came out and killed people.  ignore the fact that only the dead people could have written this down.  it's super scary.  aren't you scared?"  then, next step is to type it all down somewhere.  finally, you take a picture of all the text, because that's the best way to tell a story.  as a picture of the words that you can then put someplace.

i read like a dozen or so of them, and they're all so weirdly bad.  like you follow a character's perspective until they die, and then you see an aftermath?  how do we know how they died if the spooky ghost monster thing disappeared and was never seen again?

maybe i'm just super jaded because when i get nightmares, i get super bad nightmares.  when i was on one of my anti-crazy drugs, they got a lot worse, but i switched back off that pretty quickly.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

why can't i not?

dgf.  maybe google will tell you what that means?  but i spend way too much time there, and i try to convince way too brainwashed jerks that being cool to people is a good thing.

but i try so hard to convince people about how they're stupid.  and i need to just let it go.


i put that bitching thing up live.  be assured that i'll post you if you say something equally or more stupid.

crazy sammy can still lash out at dummies. :-P