sammy can't sleep, so it's stupid question time.

1. do i like garbanzo beans?  i don't generally like beans.  they're mushy and gross.  but i bought this frozen dinner thing, and was like "oh cool! shepherd's pie!"  it was delicious in london.  but it's "amy's." and amy hates fun, so everything's vegetarian.  i know this.  why did i buy it in the first place?  so, it's all a lie, and i'm afraid to eat it, because i don't know if i like garbanzo beans.  ok. even i admit this is stupid at this point.  let's have it for dinner tomorrow and stop being dumb.
2. when you have a super spicy lunch, and then you poop, but your poop is all super firey and it hurts.  that sucks, and i get it way more than i think is fair.
3. why is it when you buy chips, sometimes they're super flavored, and sometimes they're just like "hint of flavor"?  i got the onion sunchips.  but this batch is like "oh, yeah, we've met onion.  didn't like her."  wtf, sunchips?  i want that angry gross taste so tomorrow morning i can hate myself from the night before.

The Exhibition: Hanging

The Exhibition: Hanging
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-exhibition-hanging.html

again, read "Hanging" before reading this.

this is the notes and comments post.

blah.

i already have a new chapter almost ready to go.  i want to edit it first, and do my usual fixes to make my first drafts not sound do dumb.  second drafts.  whatever.

it's almost halloween themed, in that it's not at all halloween themed, but i kill somebody in the story.  so.  suspenseful.

lastly, the news email magazine thing that i get in the email told me that the hawaii film festival is coming up, so i clicked on it, and looked around to see what's playing.  um,  "The Torture Club":

Yuzuki Muto has been accepted to the prestigious private girls’ high school, St. Anesty Academy, that she never dreamed of attending. One spring day — with cherry blossoms in full bloom — she attends the entrance ceremony with high hopes and expectations… only soon to find herself getting “escorted” by two students to a basement room used by the school-approved Torture Club, where they practice and master the art of torture. With her hands and feet bound together, Yuzuki is coerced to join the club. Suddenly another Torture Club member appears, Aoi Funaki, a stunningly beautiful upperclassman who Yuzuki fell in love with at first sight on the day of her entrance exam. As Yuzuki’s rigorous training begins, her affections for Aoi grow ever stronger, despite the hard and fast “no romance” rule in the Torture Club.

thanks, japan. i kind of really want to see this, but i also kind of really don't want to see it in a movie theater with a giant bunch of strangers.  especially since it wouldn't be over until like 11pm, and if i remember correctly, dole cannery has a kind of creepy parking garage.  super stranger danger.

hopefully they'll do a dvd release for it, i guess.

The Exhibition: Exercise

The Exhibition: Exercise
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2014/10/the-exhibition-exercise.html

don't read this until you read the story.

i'm posting this one first so it shows up after the story on the blog.  read that first.  these are the notes for the story.

yes, i am intentionally writing stories in some sort of alphabetical order.

i had exhibition: e and g plotted out.

then i woke up this morning, and didn't feel like getting up, so i just laid in bed for an hour.

so now there's f and h planned.

i really need to sit down and just do some writing every day.  five minutes or so even.  just to get things done.

i'm unhappy, i'm going to tell you why, and you're going to tell me that it's dumb to be angry at something 142 years old.

i saw a thing about vampires this week, and remembered there was a story "Carmilla" that sounded interesting.  so i read it.

first half of the story: super gay.  this may in fact be the most gay thing i've ever read, and i've read my own stories.  carmilla and laura are totally getting married, and it's wonderful.  sure, you know she's a vampire, because duh, she's obviously a vampire, but whatever.  everybody has something wrong with them.

second half of the story: some other dude comes in and retells the first part of the story from when carmilla totally visited him and his daughter fell in love with her.  but he knows how it works out, and let's just say his daughter didn't make it through all "alive" and stuff.  fine.  it's kind of boring reading the short version of the story we totally just read, though.

third...last part of the story: bing bang boom, the dudes kill carmilla in her grave, and don't tell laura anything, so even though she's the narrator of the whole thing, she let's us know at the end that she had to read this in the official like "vampire police" report.

but it's a massive shame that after building up a great beginning, with a nice style and vague impending doom thing, it ends all "and then we killed her and went out and had tacos to celebrate."  it's just ruined.

plus, there's carmilla's "mom," who's all "i'm super mysterious, but when i return to pick up my daughter in three weeks, you'll totally remember who i am."  but SHE NEVER COMES BACK!  just gone.  you killed carmilla, so now you don't get to know who she is.

and it's stupid.   because my "oh, i bet this is the twist" is so much better than just "LOL< NOPE!"

we get the most introduction to the mom in the other dude's story, and he relates that carmilla is actually related to his dead wife.  so make the mom his stupid dead wife!  she's wearing a mask when they meet at a party, and she's all "we know each other well, and i know all these details about you, blah blah blah."

so, years ago, when his wife died, she didn't really die, she was just killed by carmilla.  she came back, found her descendant, vampire-ized her, and then they went off to run this "babysit my vampire-daughter-who's-really-my-super-great-aunt-or-something" scheme.  then, the reveal when she comes back and uncovers her face and is all, "IN YOUR FACE, LIVING DUDES!" would be so. perfect.

plus, it'd be closer to actual horror than "visiting guests might turn your daughter into a lesbian.  or suck out her life.  one or the other, and since this is 1872, we're kind of scared of both."

huh. well that sucks.

so sirjeff of ponygirl fame is closing up.

i guess it isn't so crazy.  i mean, i've been reading his page since before i could honestly click the "enter" link.

it was a big thing on my journey to the weirdo i am today.  "huh.  you can pretend people are animals."

not that horses were big with me.  i knew a girl who once got detention because she kept drawing horses all the time.  like, "fuck this test, i'm going to draw a sweet ass pony!" kind of all the time.

i didn't understand that.  ponies are stupid ugly things, not like cute lap-pets.

dogs, cats, bunnies, small other things that you can put on your lap and pretend are just different kinds of rats.

those were my things, but i didn't really get the whatever until seeing the ponies.

that prepped me for the day i saw Mr Veterinarian's works, and it all kind of clicked together.

ramble ramble ramble, i'm just saying that i'm sad that this bit of my early kink is retiring.

things that aren't fun

falling out of bed, thinking it's fine, and then waking up the next day to discover that your thigh has a giant blue patch, your elbow hurts when you bend it, and that it looks like someone tried to stab you in the shoulder.

i am bad at life.

:(

number of people i've completely alienated via email in the past week: 2.

that's also the number of homeless people i saw today that i really should have given money to.  i mean, we had a hurricane go by, and i stayed inside and read tumblr and ate pizza.  those guys had to huddle someplace so they didn't get drenched.  the first one i just walked past, and it didn't hit me until i was driving home that he could probably use money more than i could.  i mean, i stopped at the grocery store on the way home to buy new conditioner because apparently purple is the color i like, not red, because red makes my hair smell like acid all day.  so the red bottle is going in the trash, just like those junky shells.  the second one was at an intersection, and he had a sign like "$1.50 each" and he had a pile of newspapers.  i was already feeling guilty, and so i reached down to get my wallet, and he walked past, and i should have rolled the window down, but i pulled out a ten, and was looking in the mirror for him to come back, and then the light changed, and i was in front, so i had to go, and i'm thinking to myself, "well, maybe i'll see another homeless guy on the way home," and then i pulled onto h-1, and continued, "you know, like you see on the highway."

:(

i mean, i didn't even want a paper, because who reads newspapers?  so now that ten sits in my armrest box doodle, but i'm ok telling you that, because you're probably not going to break into my car and steal it.  it's for homeless people when i see them, ok?

and i made such great plans a few weeks ago to stop being a fuckup.  i didn't do any of that stuff i said i was going to do, but i did at least change my sheets today.  clean sheets are so much better, so it sucks when i can't convince my brain to wash them and change them.  the trick i used today was "we need clothes to wear to work tomorrow, so just throw the sheets in with them as well.  duh."

then i was going to sit down and write something, but instead i just reread part two of spa treatment, because that's closer to the porn that i was looking at at the time.

blah.

i think i might take a day off this week as a sick day.

so...

i caught the japanese version of let it go on the j-pop station yesterday.

it turns out it's really hard to sing the english version when you have to match the japanese rhythm.  it's just slightly off in some way, so it's super hard to do it.

what's even more hard?

driving while crying because it got to the "here I stand, and here I'll stay!" part, and that's when you usually start crying, so your eyes are all like, "oh, tear time!  woo!"

it'd be great if i didn't just randomly cry every day.  heaven knows i've tried.

i super hate

trying to not be lame on online dating sites.

because i always fuck up and look super lame.

:(

forever, just :(

Fucking fuck.

i just discovered that the tasty looking frozen stuffed shells that i JUST FUCKING BOUGHT are stuffed with broccoli, and not spinach like i thought.

broccoli is fucking disgusting.

i was super looking forward to them, and now they get to go live in the garbage.  forever.

like everything that's made with broccoli.

five years

so....this song has been stuck in my head for a while now.

being kind of queer, i did not throw up at all.

but like

there's this feeling, that unless people stop being fucking stupid, in like five years, we'll be all "oh. oops.  sorry.  there's like five years to go.  we killed everything, and poisoned everything else.  we're just not good at doing things."

and earlier tonight i had this "you know what, i bet if you were like god, you could be everywhere, and find all those jackasses who post dumb shit, and you could be all 'oh.  i should eat a dick because i think people should get married to who they want to?  have you ever imagined how you'd feel if you couldn't marry who you wanted to?  that if people found out, you'd be killed to make other people feel better? no?  ok, i'm god now, so let's be omnipotent and make you experience this horror for realsies.'"

it is good that sammy does not have omnipotence.  unless i had the omnipresence, i'd pretty much just be a dick to one dude at a time.


anyway, what is this, what are you talking about sammy?


i don't know.  random shit.  mushing a bunch of news stories together into that nasty play-doh mess that was all the colors stuck together that no one wants to touch.

because gross.


sorry.  just had to be random for a bit.

hey there, the internet people!

so shit's been shitty recently.  i did a birthday thing last month, and ate a piece of cake and some fermented pineapple for dinner.

because i'm cool like that, and sometimes you can't deal with life, and so you panic and have to eat what you have in your fridge because you don't trust yourself to go out to the store and buy food.

this is where being crazy depressed hurts a lot, i think.  when i was a kid, we'd always do the family dinner things, and i got used to that kind of thing, and then when i grew up, it just got...lonely.

honestly, the number of times i've had to quickly park my car because i started crying when i didn't know what i wanted to do for dinner.  earlier last month, i went to my favorite ramen place.  then, panicking the next day, i went there again, because my brain couldn't remember any other food.

so yeah.  my brain is all sorts of fucked up right now.  i know i need to go find a new therapist, and see about getting back on drugs.  i have some leftovers, but i'm a bit wary about just being all "fuck it, let's be our own doctor!"  i think i could.  i should count and see how many i have.  i think i did a refill before i quit, so there's at least three months worth.

but since we can't have robot therapists, they end up being people.  and dealing with people is the hardest thing i have to deal with each day.

"whoa, whoa, whoa, sammy! we're people!"  you say.

no, you're internet people.  you live on the internet, where everyone looks super cute, or like a cat or something, or maybe bender from futurama.  some of you are objects, i guess.  the point is:

i don't interact with you the same way.  i can write crazy shit here, and post it, and then sober up the next day and pull it down.  or leave it up, and hope no one comments, and then when people do (including people who are just super wonderful about everything), i can trick my email to skip that message so i don't have to read what they said until i'm ready for it.

basically: i can deal with you on my terms, without having the constant panic attacks that happen in real life.

i know this isn't healthy, and i need to work on it.  so i'm going to see if i can make october a "try to work on it, ok?" month.

my plans?

1. this weekend, i  will take out the piles of trash in my kitchen.
1. if possible, i will also put dishes into the dishwasher, and make them clean.
2. i have started the plan of "dear sammy, you can buy frozen dinners and eat them.  some of them aren't horribly unhealthy, so you might even lose weight!  in any case, keep three or more dinners in the freezer so you have something to eat, even when you don't feel like eating or like you are worthy of eating".  fuck i'm crying.  shit.  fuck fuck.
1. frozen tikka masala is better than hawaii store tikka masala.  wtf is up with that?
3. let's throw out all the old clothes we don't wear, and the shit that's in the hamper i haven't emptied in two years, and then put the clothes we do wear in that hamper.  not this weekend.  do it this month.  it's ok to walk on month old dirty underwear for a bit.
4. vacuum the parts of the apartment that aren't covered in trash or clothes or books or junk mail.  it's not everything, but do a thing to try to help some.

yeah, that's not sexy, is it?

sorry.  but this is my blog, and i have to try to get my brain sorted out, and i think these are things i can try to do, and see in a month's time if i've done enough of them.

i really, really wish my old therapist hadn't retired.  i think i'd be much better today.  but, everyone has to do the things they can to make their own life what they want, right?

thanks everyone.  really.  i know i'm shitty at the kink stuff now.  i'm trying to keep up on tumblr, with pictures and stuff.  i have two exhibition stories planned (or at least the idea is there).  i think "glass" may be two parts, but i wrote the outline, then decided it was a bit too abusive, and so now i have to rework it to make it not make my brain hurt.

sorry.

i've pushed this aside, but i can't push this aside anymore

i saw this comic like two years ago.  but i left it alone, because it seemed too much, right?

besides, it's not like my dad did that.  i grew my crazy all alone, thank you very much!  but...

so hey.  if you're "daddy" um.  stab yourself. do it over and over until you're done with this.  just. ugh.  fucking blurry tears.

if you're clarissa.  sorry.  so many sorries.  i don't know how to do this, i'm just so weirded outt?

i kno2 my crazy shit brain can't heal anything.  i just want to be out there letting people  know it's ok to be ok!