also future stuff.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
The Exhibition: Voting
The Exhibition: Voting
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/11/the-exhibition-voting.html
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/11/the-exhibition-voting.html
Saturday, September 17, 2016
ugh
i wonder if other people just get random thoughts like this.
"hey. it's been a while. maybe cutting your arm a lot hurts less now? i bet it'd be fun to lick that blood up before it stains the sheets. it's like a party!"
pretty much out of nowhere.
thanks, brain. thanks for being sucky about everything.
thanks for fucking up everything, all the time, every day. Good fucking job.
"hey. it's been a while. maybe cutting your arm a lot hurts less now? i bet it'd be fun to lick that blood up before it stains the sheets. it's like a party!"
pretty much out of nowhere.
thanks, brain. thanks for being sucky about everything.
thanks for fucking up everything, all the time, every day. Good fucking job.
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Sunday, July 31, 2016
dream thing
i'm visiting someone, or travelling, or something?
but it's bedtime, and there are like three other people, but they're all mummified, or in sleep sacks, and they're quietly moaning and stuff. i have an air mattress instead, and i lie down.
a few minutes later, i start to freak out, and for the first time ever, i'm pretty sure i had a panic attack while sleeping. in the dream, i sit on the floor, and dig my fingers into the carpet, and just hold on as everything goes dark from tunnel vision. i'm struggling to get my breathing to calm down, but nothing seems to help.
a tall lady who bound everyone else comes over and sits next to me. she doesn't touch me, but she just talks to me in a soft voice that she's there, and that i'm safe, and nothing bad is going to happen. i want to ask her to tie me up too, so that i don't have to make any decisions, but i'm just too scared to do anything but claw at the floor.
then i woke up and hugged a pillow until my heart stopped pounding so hard.
but it's bedtime, and there are like three other people, but they're all mummified, or in sleep sacks, and they're quietly moaning and stuff. i have an air mattress instead, and i lie down.
a few minutes later, i start to freak out, and for the first time ever, i'm pretty sure i had a panic attack while sleeping. in the dream, i sit on the floor, and dig my fingers into the carpet, and just hold on as everything goes dark from tunnel vision. i'm struggling to get my breathing to calm down, but nothing seems to help.
a tall lady who bound everyone else comes over and sits next to me. she doesn't touch me, but she just talks to me in a soft voice that she's there, and that i'm safe, and nothing bad is going to happen. i want to ask her to tie me up too, so that i don't have to make any decisions, but i'm just too scared to do anything but claw at the floor.
then i woke up and hugged a pillow until my heart stopped pounding so hard.
Wednesday, July 20, 2016
i mean
i'm thinking seriously about calling my dad and asking if this is a dumb thing to do.
my dad.
"sammy, you've never talked about your dad before!"
exactly.
omg. wtf am i doing?
i am bad with intimate relationships, and i am equally bad at choosing healthy ways to connect with people. also jobs. i'm kind of a fuck up. sorry!
Tuesday, July 19, 2016
super early on this, but
i may be moving. to someplace else. maybe. with a different job. possibly.
so that might make me even worse about posting. or writing. or all of this, really. since. "new job."
potentially.
just wanted to say something about it, because i'm kind of freaking out a bit at the idea.
and, because i'm wonderful, i outlined a new story i won't write for three years, because i'm awful at completing things.
allegedly.
so that might make me even worse about posting. or writing. or all of this, really. since. "new job."
potentially.
just wanted to say something about it, because i'm kind of freaking out a bit at the idea.
and, because i'm wonderful, i outlined a new story i won't write for three years, because i'm awful at completing things.
allegedly.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
Saturday, June 25, 2016
The Exhibition: Recycling
The Exhibition: Recycling
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-exhibition-recycling.html
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/06/the-exhibition-recycling.html
Sunday, June 12, 2016
but touch my tears, with your lips
touch my world, with your fingertips,
...
forever is our today.
who wants to live forever?
Ad infinitum
...
forever is our today.
who wants to live forever?
Ad infinitum
Saturday, June 11, 2016
Friday, June 10, 2016
oh, well, i just fucked up my soundtrack.
so, next time, click the "new post" link in a new tab, i guess.
or don't post so much music on the blog, dummy. i mean, i guess some people are into hard angry metal, but since 90% of the time i don't listen to that, maybe don't tie on that.
but seriously, if i could kill the king of deceit, i'd do it in a moment. fucking regicide all over this shit.
"sammy, is there a point today, or should i just expect this to disappear tomorrow?"
yes. probably. here are the highlights for this long weekend:
or don't post so much music on the blog, dummy. i mean, i guess some people are into hard angry metal, but since 90% of the time i don't listen to that, maybe don't tie on that.
but seriously, if i could kill the king of deceit, i'd do it in a moment. fucking regicide all over this shit.
"sammy, is there a point today, or should i just expect this to disappear tomorrow?"
yes. probably. here are the highlights for this long weekend:
- i have a long weekend. you probably don't. you probably didn't get to have to have a king either. like, in the far off past. when kings were kool, and not just a singularly embodied tyranny.
- did i tell that one guy to go fuck himself? i think so? if you're that dude, posting all the comments about shit randomly, being all up in my junk, stop it. just stop. no. bad dude. be better.
- i am bad at writing. i'm going to try this weekend. no promises. it was much harder before tumblr. you had to earn your porn, or something. tumblr is just all "here's the porn for today. dug deep in the porn mine, so we've got all these enemas. just enemas for days. why?" because everything eventually is commoditized, and porn has hit that tipping point.
- "wait, so what does that mean for your porn writing?" eventually, you'll find a better porn that more closely aligns to your personal kinks. in the limit of t->infinity, there will be infinitely many porn writers with the same set of kinks as you have, so you'll be fulfilled at zero cost, due to the glut of appropriate kink.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
an update
still dealing with things in the way i pretend i think sane people do it. i am taking out trash. i am murdering bugs with cleaning fluids. i am wondering if "termites" are something you can treat with regular poisons, since i can't seem to find poisons that do that.
i am wondering if i should just post summaries, and pretend i wrote a story i couldn't pull myself to write.
i have a lot of these outlined stories that i just can't motivate myself to make real.
sorry.
does anyone think that's good? or sufficient? i want to write the full story, but i never do. for like a year, i never do. if i never write something, what happens then?
so, hey, go look at the tumblr, go get the porn done, look at my sad wikipedia pages, and hopefully be sad in sympathy.
would anyone be happy if i just sketched how things would go, and then never wrote it? would that ruin any actual stories that i can push out?
i don't know anymore, and my favorite authors seemed to have stopped, so maybe there's just a point where it doesn't click anymore.
i am wondering if i should just post summaries, and pretend i wrote a story i couldn't pull myself to write.
i have a lot of these outlined stories that i just can't motivate myself to make real.
sorry.
does anyone think that's good? or sufficient? i want to write the full story, but i never do. for like a year, i never do. if i never write something, what happens then?
so, hey, go look at the tumblr, go get the porn done, look at my sad wikipedia pages, and hopefully be sad in sympathy.
would anyone be happy if i just sketched how things would go, and then never wrote it? would that ruin any actual stories that i can push out?
i don't know anymore, and my favorite authors seemed to have stopped, so maybe there's just a point where it doesn't click anymore.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
here. my music. wake me up.
i hope that's the song i want it to be.
i hope it has the anxiety and shame and hatred i feel everyday.
i made a god out of blood. it was probably a mistake. sorry everybody. i am bad at decisions, and i think i fucked this up.
wow
sitting here, listening to music i remember from college.
CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT
turns out some things keep triggering when you don't expect them to.
i didn't. i really want to, but i didn't.
i have a new dream shit story coming soon, probably. unless i don't. it's super gross, and i kind of hate it, but it's the me that's here now, so i should cope as much as i can.
CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT CUT
turns out some things keep triggering when you don't expect them to.
i didn't. i really want to, but i didn't.
i have a new dream shit story coming soon, probably. unless i don't. it's super gross, and i kind of hate it, but it's the me that's here now, so i should cope as much as i can.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
ugh i need to post more here
hopefully everyone found the tumblr, where i spit out the porn i enjoy as it cascades over me. i could better use this time, but gaining support via blind clicking on cute things is easy, and doesn't set of my weirdness.
currently i have three unsorted threads in the "exhibition" story, and i should fucking sort those out. i'm a jerk for not doing that, and i should try to pull some level of concentration to try to close some of these down.
so: state of sammy's mental state.
i stopped therapy again. when you get the feeling your therapist wants you to craft a pinterest page about what you like, that's probably the point where you decide your therapist is pretty shitty.
I WANT A PUPPY, BITCH! MY APARTMENT DOESN'T ALLOW PUPPIES! SO, LOOKS LIKE WE"VE GOT THE BEEF!
also, she was just kind of awful at everything. sorry my panic attacks don't live up to expectations. Guess i'll just be cool when i puke out lunch into a plastic bag. NOT A BIG DEAL, RIGHT?
so
i'm coasting again, on hopes and dreams. which aren't super helpful when you look to them and get "THE VOID" and "HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES"
but i'm like 94% not likely to kill myself anymore, because sometimes you meet someone so super cute you can't not just want to push them forward as much as you can, and if that means you light on fire some day, hey, fire can be anywhere.
i can't imagine how people would explain my suicide to tiny R. so. that's not an option any more.
which unfortunately means
dealing with grown up shit.
who pulled 22 bags of garbage out of her apartment?
who awkwardly scheduled a dentist appointment to look at this clearly fucked up tooth?
who is actually keeping those 22 bags of garbage out of the apartment, so they can't pile up?
as of right now, today, may 12, i am kind of sanely managing my shit.
i aim to keep things less fucked up, but hey, it's hard when you kind of surf along on a muck of self hatred.
this is better than before, i think. it's not great, obviously, but it's not angry panic. there is anger, and there is panic, but they are consoling, not reinforcing.
currently i have three unsorted threads in the "exhibition" story, and i should fucking sort those out. i'm a jerk for not doing that, and i should try to pull some level of concentration to try to close some of these down.
so: state of sammy's mental state.
i stopped therapy again. when you get the feeling your therapist wants you to craft a pinterest page about what you like, that's probably the point where you decide your therapist is pretty shitty.
I WANT A PUPPY, BITCH! MY APARTMENT DOESN'T ALLOW PUPPIES! SO, LOOKS LIKE WE"VE GOT THE BEEF!
also, she was just kind of awful at everything. sorry my panic attacks don't live up to expectations. Guess i'll just be cool when i puke out lunch into a plastic bag. NOT A BIG DEAL, RIGHT?
so
i'm coasting again, on hopes and dreams. which aren't super helpful when you look to them and get "THE VOID" and "HORRIBLE NIGHTMARES"
but i'm like 94% not likely to kill myself anymore, because sometimes you meet someone so super cute you can't not just want to push them forward as much as you can, and if that means you light on fire some day, hey, fire can be anywhere.
i can't imagine how people would explain my suicide to tiny R. so. that's not an option any more.
which unfortunately means
dealing with grown up shit.
who pulled 22 bags of garbage out of her apartment?
who awkwardly scheduled a dentist appointment to look at this clearly fucked up tooth?
who is actually keeping those 22 bags of garbage out of the apartment, so they can't pile up?
as of right now, today, may 12, i am kind of sanely managing my shit.
i aim to keep things less fucked up, but hey, it's hard when you kind of surf along on a muck of self hatred.
this is better than before, i think. it's not great, obviously, but it's not angry panic. there is anger, and there is panic, but they are consoling, not reinforcing.
Friday, April 29, 2016
i don't even know
It could only be death incarnate.
She looked at the thing, as her groceries clattered to the ground. It turned to face her, and all she could do was run. She dashed to the door, fumbling for her keys. They slipped from her fingers, jangling as they hit the concrete. She spun around, watching it approach slowly.
It didn't walk right, her mind tried to make sense of it's slow deliberate steps, picking each foot up higher than necessary, almost a strut. It towered above her, casting spindly shadows of appendages. Then it spoke.
"You are frightened," the voices said calmly. There were dozens of individual tones, some male, some female. "I. I have frightened you." It seemed confused by this.
She curled up into a ball, wishing the thing would kill her quickly, and not drag it out. She found herself in it's shadow as it stood above her. There were soft feather like touches on her body as it seemed to be inspecting her. "I did not intend this," the voices whispered. "I only desired to see things."
She squeezed as tight as possible and sobbed. After nearly a minute, she opened her eyes to find herself alone, with her groceries sitting in the grass.
She looked at the thing, as her groceries clattered to the ground. It turned to face her, and all she could do was run. She dashed to the door, fumbling for her keys. They slipped from her fingers, jangling as they hit the concrete. She spun around, watching it approach slowly.
It didn't walk right, her mind tried to make sense of it's slow deliberate steps, picking each foot up higher than necessary, almost a strut. It towered above her, casting spindly shadows of appendages. Then it spoke.
"You are frightened," the voices said calmly. There were dozens of individual tones, some male, some female. "I. I have frightened you." It seemed confused by this.
She curled up into a ball, wishing the thing would kill her quickly, and not drag it out. She found herself in it's shadow as it stood above her. There were soft feather like touches on her body as it seemed to be inspecting her. "I did not intend this," the voices whispered. "I only desired to see things."
She squeezed as tight as possible and sobbed. After nearly a minute, she opened her eyes to find herself alone, with her groceries sitting in the grass.
Tuesday, April 26, 2016
i hate myself so fucking much.
just.
so fucking much.
imagine have that fucking bitch from high school in your head, all day, every day, telling you how much she hates you.
every
day.
so fucking much.
imagine have that fucking bitch from high school in your head, all day, every day, telling you how much she hates you.
every
day.
Sunday, April 24, 2016
ok. thanks, blogger?
something about https. the like, less open web thing, right? i think the government can still see you reading porn, but like, exxon can't see you reading porn. why is everyone always so against porn, am i right?
there was another thing. i. i didn't read the thing, it was a thing, about stuffs, and my blogger account and how people (maybe?) can view it (maybe?). some stuffs.
so
hey
if you're like "what's drunk with sammy?" and it's all "tell me your mother's name!"
that is an uncool monster robot, so don't do that. "what animals does sammy like?" no!
bears, dogs, penguins, REGULAR THINGS, MONSTER BOT!
"ok, so maybe sammy is a bit paranoid..." NO! just, hey, maybe robots aren't always going to be friendly. now i'm re reading this and feeling dumb, and then re-re-reading it and thinking about friendly sandwiches.
so. summary:
"sandwiches are good"
"drunking while drunk is super hard"
"something about burgers"
"i outlined 'play' a bit, and just need to stop being so fucking awful so i can write it. it'[s not great, but it dials in a lot of fetishes, so, sorry for being so diverse."
]
]
butts.
there was another thing. i. i didn't read the thing, it was a thing, about stuffs, and my blogger account and how people (maybe?) can view it (maybe?). some stuffs.
so
hey
if you're like "what's drunk with sammy?" and it's all "tell me your mother's name!"
that is an uncool monster robot, so don't do that. "what animals does sammy like?" no!
bears, dogs, penguins, REGULAR THINGS, MONSTER BOT!
"ok, so maybe sammy is a bit paranoid..." NO! just, hey, maybe robots aren't always going to be friendly. now i'm re reading this and feeling dumb, and then re-re-reading it and thinking about friendly sandwiches.
so. summary:
"sandwiches are good"
"drunking while drunk is super hard"
"something about burgers"
"i outlined 'play' a bit, and just need to stop being so fucking awful so i can write it. it'[s not great, but it dials in a lot of fetishes, so, sorry for being so diverse."
]
]
butts.
Saturday, April 2, 2016
i don't blog here enough
i do the tumblr, which is literally just "that's cool. make other people see it."
and i guess social media is logarithmic?
like, my twitter has like three people, blogger like 50, and tumblr like 500. so, if i open a facebook, do i get 9000?
probably not, because there's a limit to being a jerk.
i am working on new stories.
i have made three sentences of "spa treatment 2". i have thought a lot about how to make spa treatment 2 not suck. spa treatment 2 might not be super great if you're not me. sorry.
i've spent a lot of time walking through my apartment complex thinking about exhibition: p. i'm still not sure exhibition: p is a good story. we might just all have to suffer through my anxiety on that one.
sorry.
sorry everybody, everywhere.
and i guess social media is logarithmic?
like, my twitter has like three people, blogger like 50, and tumblr like 500. so, if i open a facebook, do i get 9000?
probably not, because there's a limit to being a jerk.
i am working on new stories.
i have made three sentences of "spa treatment 2". i have thought a lot about how to make spa treatment 2 not suck. spa treatment 2 might not be super great if you're not me. sorry.
i've spent a lot of time walking through my apartment complex thinking about exhibition: p. i'm still not sure exhibition: p is a good story. we might just all have to suffer through my anxiety on that one.
sorry.
sorry everybody, everywhere.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
so i'm not going to therapy tomorrow.
"but, sammy, what about the crazy?"
honestly, i'd rather just try to cope as much as i can than go back there. being told over and over that "maybe a bit of exercise would help" isn't helping. i know i'm fat. i know how fat i am pretty much everyday. did you know most bathrooms have mirrors? apparently my therapist doesn't!
"she's trying to help."
no. i don't buy this. honestly, if i'm being honest? i think she's all "well, you went to a fancy school, but you're still messed up, so maybe you're just not that great."
duh. i mean. fuck you, bitch.
i know i'm not that great. this is me, telling you how much i have panic attacks when i can't think of something to have for dinner. my brain sucks, and i hate it, and i hate me, and you know what? i hate you more than all that put together.
and it's not that fancy of a school. i just didn't decide to start putting letters after my name because i paid $12000 to a "registrar".
registrar is a weird word. why do we have it?
so
tl;dr: i'm going to try to treat my insanity with alcohol and probably more stories. but, really, you have to understand how hard it is to write when you're crazy. it's not fun. just
lots of not fun.
sorry.
honestly, i'd rather just try to cope as much as i can than go back there. being told over and over that "maybe a bit of exercise would help" isn't helping. i know i'm fat. i know how fat i am pretty much everyday. did you know most bathrooms have mirrors? apparently my therapist doesn't!
"she's trying to help."
no. i don't buy this. honestly, if i'm being honest? i think she's all "well, you went to a fancy school, but you're still messed up, so maybe you're just not that great."
duh. i mean. fuck you, bitch.
i know i'm not that great. this is me, telling you how much i have panic attacks when i can't think of something to have for dinner. my brain sucks, and i hate it, and i hate me, and you know what? i hate you more than all that put together.
and it's not that fancy of a school. i just didn't decide to start putting letters after my name because i paid $12000 to a "registrar".
registrar is a weird word. why do we have it?
so
tl;dr: i'm going to try to treat my insanity with alcohol and probably more stories. but, really, you have to understand how hard it is to write when you're crazy. it's not fun. just
lots of not fun.
sorry.
Wednesday, February 24, 2016
i woke up from a dream this morning.
i was laughing while running a dull knife up and down my arm. “it can’t do anything! it's not even sharp!" i looked down at the blade, and noticed it was weirdly pink. i then looked at my arm, and saw that it was mauled beyond recognition. "ha. gross. people are probably going to notice that."
then i woke up.
then i woke up.
Friday, February 19, 2016
wow. there are still a lot of typos in The Exhibition.
"Sammy continued to cry, only to stop when Annie smacked her three times with her right hand. "Shut. The. Fuck. Up.""
clearly she smacked her four times.
"After a few breathes to calm herself, she opened the bathroom door, and strolled out, down the hall, and across the living room to the table sitting next to her cage."
omg, "breath*"
does anyone have any suggestion where to cut when i submit stuff to the nifty story page? i could just do 1-4, the original story, which is all they have there now.
but, like, "candle" is pretty important
and so is "breakfast"
"birthday" is kind of next, but "exercise" is kind of a better story.
i want to do it this weekend, but it'd be great if someone had an opinion to share. i'm thinking through breakfast. it sets up the story, alters it, moves to a new town, and then settles into a safe landing.
clearly she smacked her four times.
"After a few breathes to calm herself, she opened the bathroom door, and strolled out, down the hall, and across the living room to the table sitting next to her cage."
omg, "breath*"
does anyone have any suggestion where to cut when i submit stuff to the nifty story page? i could just do 1-4, the original story, which is all they have there now.
but, like, "candle" is pretty important
and so is "breakfast"
"birthday" is kind of next, but "exercise" is kind of a better story.
i want to do it this weekend, but it'd be great if someone had an opinion to share. i'm thinking through breakfast. it sets up the story, alters it, moves to a new town, and then settles into a safe landing.
Monday, February 15, 2016
ok. hah. huh.
so i should be asleep, but i suck at sleeping now. because of brain issues.
in any case, i got an email that was all "hey, wow, you have a cool story up at the nifty archives."
what? the gay/lesbian story thing i read when i was little and that got me hooked on kinky pee things?
yes. that. huh.
but, like, i didn't submit it there. do i complain? how do i complain? i'm not angry with them posting it, but like, i want some sort of attribution and shit.
any suggestions?
in any case, i got an email that was all "hey, wow, you have a cool story up at the nifty archives."
what? the gay/lesbian story thing i read when i was little and that got me hooked on kinky pee things?
yes. that. huh.
but, like, i didn't submit it there. do i complain? how do i complain? i'm not angry with them posting it, but like, i want some sort of attribution and shit.
any suggestions?
Sunday, February 14, 2016
also:
whoops!
can't send email now!
click the send button? nothing happens! woo!
try clicking it again? NOPES!
so yeah, if you sent me an email through bdsmlibrary, and are expecting a response, hope you're patient enough to wait for tomorrow so i can try my other computer.
because
shit
ain't
happening
tonight
.
can't send email now!
click the send button? nothing happens! woo!
try clicking it again? NOPES!
so yeah, if you sent me an email through bdsmlibrary, and are expecting a response, hope you're patient enough to wait for tomorrow so i can try my other computer.
because
shit
ain't
happening
tonight
.
Wednesday, February 3, 2016
when somebody loved me
i'm sad. about a lot of things. i have to get up early to go to therapy tomorrow. that's kind of a sticking point on the sad.
i don't want to go. she was kind of condescending last time, with a "i don't think these are real panic attacks." and "maybe try exercising" and "write down when you have these attacks".
which i didn't do. i didn't exercise, because exercise sucks, and makes me ache all over. and i compiled a list in my head of shit that made me panic attack, but i never wrote it down, so either i'm rushing my homework tomorrow, or just going in to say it in words, and accept that she's not going to buy that.
i mean, i guess the biggest problem here is that she was super dismissive in my first session, so i kind of just want her to go away. so i'm thinking about skipping, since, you know, fuck her, right?
but that's probably an unhealthy urge. everybody deserves two sessions, right? even if she didn't read any of my paperwork before our first meeting. she's busy, right? she just wasn't "meh, whatever. i get paid either way."
let's organize thoughts here for then, if i'm willing to pop this up in the office.
i don't want to go. she was kind of condescending last time, with a "i don't think these are real panic attacks." and "maybe try exercising" and "write down when you have these attacks".
which i didn't do. i didn't exercise, because exercise sucks, and makes me ache all over. and i compiled a list in my head of shit that made me panic attack, but i never wrote it down, so either i'm rushing my homework tomorrow, or just going in to say it in words, and accept that she's not going to buy that.
i mean, i guess the biggest problem here is that she was super dismissive in my first session, so i kind of just want her to go away. so i'm thinking about skipping, since, you know, fuck her, right?
but that's probably an unhealthy urge. everybody deserves two sessions, right? even if she didn't read any of my paperwork before our first meeting. she's busy, right? she just wasn't "meh, whatever. i get paid either way."
let's organize thoughts here for then, if i'm willing to pop this up in the office.
- panic attack about what to get for dinner. sat in the parking lot at work for ten minutes trying to sort out a solution. i had nothing in the freezer for emergency food, so i had to get something out. taco bell. taco bell is always there.
- taco bell always tastes like ash and failure.
- the saturday i had a panic attack about going to therapy. what if i do this and never ever get better? this led to puking in the shower as i tried to calm down. shower puke is the most convenient, but least fun form of puke.
- the parking lot at the place for dinner was full. should i bother? nope. let's run off to the far side of the mountains to get something dumb for dinner. sure, it'll take even longer than just waiting here, but i get to run away. no one can catch you if you're running.
- i keep having fantasies about quitting my job. "fuck you, and fuck you for lying to me about getting a raise!" i don't know if he's lying, but it's been so long, it just feels like it must be a lie.
- my hobbies are:
- reading the internet for current events shit
- reading tumblr for super offensive porn
- reading pixiv for even more super more offensiver porn
- recreational math, because i'm dumb like that.
- not cleaning things.
- i don't have friends because i constantly see the flaws in other people, and assume everyone else finds similar flaws in me, and if being with them pains me so much, me being with them must pain them so much more.
- it's better this way. i can stay locked away at home, and we can all just enjoy my nonsense until i eventually choke on puke and make a splot on the floor.
- i recognize that this isn't a healthy thought.
but, also, consider:
- people actively lock up dogs and pets in places where they can't get food or water or exercise. intentionally. to "teach a lesson". i'm the same kind of thing as that monster. why is my level of monster less?
- people think that poor people are gross leeches who should be cut off to fix their own problems. and then complain that they steal and shit in alleys. i'm not surprised a lot of homeless people have mental illness problems trying to sort through that shit.
- people are like "my sky god tells me you're a sinner because your love isn't listed in his big book of love. i mean, marrying slaves is listed in the big book of love!" we've had thousands of years to pull heads from asses. why would we go back to thinking that any healthy relationship isn't cool?
- racism. sexism. wtf? just wtf? do you know how much i hate seeing great porn with a tumblr comment of like "yeah, fuck that ugly nigger bitch in her stupid bitch cunt"? what is wrong with people?
so, in conclusion, i eagerly await the day a surprise comet collides with the planet and incinerates everyone, because, seriously, you know we're kind of all awful in our own ways.
also, fuck that jerk-ass fucking yahweh of genesis 18:22. "ok, fine, if I can find 10 decent people, i won't blow it the fuck up." that's his price. infinite power, but can only work on units of "whole cities", and has a minimum friendly fire value of 10 people. "oh, but i'm going to knock up your wife. you know. as a favor. that's how i roll." honestly, how do people read their own religious texts and stick with that nonsense?
i hate everything and everyone, and wish i could just die.
this is probably going away soon, so. you know. get your comments in fast if you want to.
Sunday, January 31, 2016
The Exhibition: Writing
The Exhibition: Writing
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-exhibition-writing.html
sammy_808@live.com
http://sammytriesagain.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-exhibition-writing.html
Monday, January 25, 2016
i just wrote some
not for any of the unfinished stories, and not anything porn related, but something, and that's more than i've been doing.
memory hole shit here. sorry.
i write posts.
i send my boss emails.
i watch videos that put songs into my head to be stuck there for days.
i do all this drunk off my ass and blissed out on a variety of drugs that are totally legal.
totally fucking legal. you can get so much brain alteration on the quick without much trouble.
but not xanax. you know, that thing that actually solves problems. the one that makes you not a crying mess in front of your friends and parents. that's controlled. with all sorts of fucking hoops to get through.
"i don't think you need that," she said, looking at me like i was sane. "That seems excessive."
this is why i'm super down on this therapy try. i want something to take to make me not panic about everything. i want to be able to go get taco bell without worrying about pissing myself.
so. here's my wishlist for 2016.
hawaii sorts out that bullshit medical marijuana shit, and i can get that from doctors who are ok with being cool. my friend in california seems to have done that, and doesn't get the worry/panic i live with.
we elect hilary. or, bernie. i am so agnostic on this, i can't put it into words. i want someone who isn't going to call for me to be stabbed in the neck their first day in office. "but sammy, what about marco rubio? he seems like not a nazi!" yeah. and he's going to stand up to people who are all "gay people are good for burning so we can warm"?
i mean... when your options are crazy fucking jerks who want to murder you for not being cool with rape, their friends, and people who are like, "hey, maybe let's help people not be in poverty", how is that an option.
ok.
time to get more super drunk and pass out.
whatever.
i send my boss emails.
i watch videos that put songs into my head to be stuck there for days.
i do all this drunk off my ass and blissed out on a variety of drugs that are totally legal.
totally fucking legal. you can get so much brain alteration on the quick without much trouble.
but not xanax. you know, that thing that actually solves problems. the one that makes you not a crying mess in front of your friends and parents. that's controlled. with all sorts of fucking hoops to get through.
"i don't think you need that," she said, looking at me like i was sane. "That seems excessive."
this is why i'm super down on this therapy try. i want something to take to make me not panic about everything. i want to be able to go get taco bell without worrying about pissing myself.
so. here's my wishlist for 2016.
hawaii sorts out that bullshit medical marijuana shit, and i can get that from doctors who are ok with being cool. my friend in california seems to have done that, and doesn't get the worry/panic i live with.
we elect hilary. or, bernie. i am so agnostic on this, i can't put it into words. i want someone who isn't going to call for me to be stabbed in the neck their first day in office. "but sammy, what about marco rubio? he seems like not a nazi!" yeah. and he's going to stand up to people who are all "gay people are good for burning so we can warm"?
i mean... when your options are crazy fucking jerks who want to murder you for not being cool with rape, their friends, and people who are like, "hey, maybe let's help people not be in poverty", how is that an option.
ok.
time to get more super drunk and pass out.
whatever.
Friday, January 22, 2016
really?
Message from scanner
scanner@live.com
To: sammy_808@live.com; Fri 1/22/2016 12:48 AM
This sender failed our fraud detection checks and may not be who they appear to be.
SKM_4050151222162800.doc
63 KB
Download Save to OneDrive - Personal
scanner@live.com
To: sammy_808@live.com; Fri 1/22/2016 12:48 AM
This sender failed our fraud detection checks and may not be who they appear to be.
SKM_4050151222162800.doc
63 KB
Download Save to OneDrive - Personal
yeah. i totally want some dick "scanner" up in my internet pussy. whatever.
i'm dealing with david bowie videos not linking right anymore. 7-11. or whatever. just, this isnt working anymore. just not working ever.
it's never going to be alright ever again. just not going to.
never.
Monday, January 18, 2016
i need to do an update thing
i'm 57 pages back on pixiv. fucking forever back there. i'm going to be delayed until like june.
ok, not june, but 57 fucking pages. there's a lot of porn i need to consume before i'm up-to-date.
i did the therapy. i'm not super optimistic. it turns out "that seems like junky behavior" might actually be junky behavior. she was all "i don't think you need drugs, but if we do drugs, it'd probably be the antidepressants that made masturbating so hard." wonderful.
and she was kind of dismissive of my concerns. not cool. i'm beginning to think i got the best ever therapist first, and have been dealing with reject morons ever since.
so, i have three more dates scheduled. maybe i'll stick to them, maybe i'll message her and suggest she go fuck herself. i've spent a lot of showers wasting water thinking about how shit that session was.
i sucked at writing. i was going to write a bunch, and then didn't. no reason. just didn't. key has a new thing out. it's a review, not a new story, but is like, "go read a book," and i have to be all "i have lots of books i haven't read!" because i'm shit at reading books.
"being shit" seems to be my new catchphrase for 2016. sorry about that.
"so, hey, sammy. got any thoughts on how to do 2016 better?"
sure.
ok, not june, but 57 fucking pages. there's a lot of porn i need to consume before i'm up-to-date.
i did the therapy. i'm not super optimistic. it turns out "that seems like junky behavior" might actually be junky behavior. she was all "i don't think you need drugs, but if we do drugs, it'd probably be the antidepressants that made masturbating so hard." wonderful.
and she was kind of dismissive of my concerns. not cool. i'm beginning to think i got the best ever therapist first, and have been dealing with reject morons ever since.
so, i have three more dates scheduled. maybe i'll stick to them, maybe i'll message her and suggest she go fuck herself. i've spent a lot of showers wasting water thinking about how shit that session was.
i sucked at writing. i was going to write a bunch, and then didn't. no reason. just didn't. key has a new thing out. it's a review, not a new story, but is like, "go read a book," and i have to be all "i have lots of books i haven't read!" because i'm shit at reading books.
"being shit" seems to be my new catchphrase for 2016. sorry about that.
"so, hey, sammy. got any thoughts on how to do 2016 better?"
sure.
- tell you to listen to music i like more. not everyone is dead yet, so there's good stuff out there.
- finis some of the stories i aven't.
- determine why h doesn't always sow up.
- probablye should do 2 on my new laptop.
- tis one seems junk.
- try not to die. "duh, that's easy." ha ha, live with this brain for a week, jerkington.
- "not all presidents can be insults." fine, president fucksavelt. douche quincy fuck-you. james k wank.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
oh no, don't say it's true.
please?
i got back from travel. i'm super tired and exhausted, and just really want to go to sleep.
but then i check my twitter, and i see the news.
i'm going to listen to some more music for a bit, and then go to sleep, and hope that this is all just a nightmare, and i'll awake to happier tidings.
i got back from travel. i'm super tired and exhausted, and just really want to go to sleep.
but then i check my twitter, and i see the news.
i'm going to listen to some more music for a bit, and then go to sleep, and hope that this is all just a nightmare, and i'll awake to happier tidings.
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