huh

 so

it turns out that "maybe i should drain out some blood from my arms, and see if that helps" 

is called "suicidal ideation."

i wish i had friends.  or loved ones.  or could love a one, if it came down to it.

i wake up just wanting hugs, and then curl up to have nightmares of being murdered by grabby zombies.

i hate this.  i just want what i see other people having.  someone to share a life with.  someone who doesn't turn into grabby zombies.

god FUCKING damnit

how is it that every thing is 9000 times more difficult than it should be?

"oh, i'm extra horny, let's buy some toys."

1. order vibe, but it's magically "backordered" the moment i order.  "maybe you'll get it by may?"
2. order dildo, it arrives, but it's too big, and is kind of painful.  that's on me, you just have to accept things might not be exactly like you hoped.  it's at least squishy, so it's not as bad as it could be.
3. vibe arrives, but whoopsie, it's not the one i ordered, it's some fucking ass vibe, which i'm pretty sure i would have ordered a better one if that's what i was looking for, but no, that was not fucking what i was looking for.

so i guess the lesson is, "just order shit from amazon, because amazon at least doesn't fuck things up so much."

fuck everything.  i hate the world.

ARUGHDF

i went to get dinner, because i was going to be late getting home from work, so i think, 'hey, fucking mcdonalds isn't terrible"

except when instead of giving you the burger you ordered, you get a tiny fucking burger with soggy lettuce and tomato on it.  who the fuck wants fucking shitty ass iceberg lettuce on a crap-ass mcdonalds burger?

"do you want someone to contact you?"  why?  i'm already home with my wrong-ass burger?  i'm going to haul my ass back to the store to have the fuckbag who couldn't put the right fucking burger into the right fucking bag?  i'm going to put my pants back on for that? fuck you.

and now i'm trying to decide if the grumbly tummy is because i'm still hungry, or because i ate the bottom half of the burger with all that shit scraped off super fast and super angry.

fuck.  i was going to eat and watch a show, but by the time the show finished with commercials, i'm already done and furious.  thanks for ruining my whole fucking day.

i'd wish that the guy would be fired, but i think he's a manager or something.  i mean, a fucking manager, and "regular menu item" and "asinine piece of shit monstrosity" were too many things to keep straight?

plus the asshole always undersalts the fries.  hello?  if i wanted my heart not to explode, i wouldn't fucking be here, would i?

wendy never fucks up my order.  wendy fucking loves me.


anyway, maybe bdsmlibrary isn't dead forever?  i might start sending in stories there if they actually post something new.

grump

work was a butt

my dinner order was fucked up

and i chipped a nail, and it fucking hurts

fuck everything

sanity is over rated

i should know.  i looked over the opposition, took my pills, and looked at what that brought me.

i'm not complaining about my sanity.  it's reassuring to not freak out about minor upsets.  it's good to not see a dead animal and need to take a day off to recuperate.  it's nice to go out in public and not feel so much like an absolute freak.

i mean, i still mumble things to myself, and count on my fingers in a way that can't be reassuring to other people.

but feeling like this.

with what i think is what people know as "normal" in my hands.

it's weird and difficult and challenging.

when you know no one else sees what you see, and know that what makes you panic might  not exist, it's easy to draw away and accept that you're in a fantasy realm.

but when you crash down to the real world, and have to deal with trash, and the leaves you tracked in on your shoes, and "laundry".

shit turns out to be real.



so, a check-in on things:

1. my favorite forum turns out to be moderated by racists, so i guess it's not my favorite anymore?
2. i feel like i should write more, but i've been getting home at like 8pm.  
1. not hating your work means you have less time for porn.
2. this feels like it should be a positive?
3. nice that the country understands useless insanity now.  would have even nicer 24 months ago, but i guess i have to live with the repercussions of anti-democratic fascist jurists being placed by corrupt fascists.
4. or, you know, walls and shakespeare and such. 
1. just a suggestion.

hey

so.

started antidepressants again.  this time they seem to be doing a way better job than previously.  it's nice not wanting to kill myself everyday.  it's like a whole new world that's probably what other people live all the time.

so that's nice.

i also applied and was accepted for a new job.  that means i'm going to be moving to the mainland.  which is kind of super stressful and all that, but i don't like my current job, and this is a big opportunity.

i don't think i'm going to be advertising the area code i'm moving to, so don't bother with that.  it's a big change by itself, and i'd prefer not to have to worry about random people stalking me because of my porn account.

that said, i might start writing again.  the antidepressants make masturbating a struggle, but they clear my brain of a lot of the unpleasantness.  i have one story outlined, and a second vaguely sorted, and a third idea that could be clearer, but is better than i've been in a year.

no promises.  the world still sucks, there are still fascists out there that hate me, and people could be kinder but aren't.  we'll see if i feel comfortable with this.

so, hey.  here's a 2017 update before the new year.  wasn't this a shitball of a year?

fucking hope next year is better.

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.

1. 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.
1. taco bell always tastes like ash and failure.
2. 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.
3. 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.
4. 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.
5. my hobbies are:
1. reading the internet for current events shit
2. reading tumblr for super offensive porn
3. reading pixiv for even more super more offensiver porn
4. recreational math, because i'm dumb like that.
5. not cleaning things.
6. 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.
7. 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.
1. i recognize that this isn't a healthy thought.

but, also, consider:

1. 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?
2. 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.
3. 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?
4. 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.

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.

so. drunk. listening to 80s music. but:

did people in the 80s really just assume that we'd have a world war and kill everyone, so "no use planning stuff!"?

like, a lot of these songs are all "but then war, and we all die, so whatever."

is that why we have all this climate change shit? "yes, we're killing everything, but before we get there, we'll have actually literally killed everything.  so it's not like it matters or anything."

wow.  i never realized how much i hated my parent's generation.

also, if you're a republican, unfollow me, and then light yourself on fire.  for being a fucking jerkass.

fucking christ, people

wake up, check mail, flood of annoying bullshit.

dude who keeps pestering me to "blackmail" him somehow?  check.  dude, i don't care about you, and i'm not sure "reads my shitty porn blog" is something i can blackmail you with.  i'd have to find your friends and family, and research shit, and fuck it.  i have neither the time nor the motivation to set up the stupidest hobby in the world.  

another random marketing jerk wanting me to promote a product on my blog?  check.  these i just don't understand.  if i want to get people interested in my shitty "screen capture software" ('P.S. Don't change text in the link. It should be "Screen Capture Software"', fuck you jenny.  fuck you and fuck your capital letters.), i'd probably find someone who had ever in their life mentioned screen capture software.  and if i do put in the link, i get a free copy?  woo!  according to the review i found, "I think that it is just a Russian scam."  but just imagine all the things i could do with "screen capture software".  i could put up videos of me typing out my next story, only to end the video with me deleting everything because i don't like it.  wouldn't that be fun?

another notice from that one twitter bot that keeps following and unfollowing me so they can follow me again?  check.  this seems like if they added a feature to my fridge that would have it periodically beep sadly until i went over and pet it.  you're not a real person, so stop being so needy.

hey there. first up, i really want no one to panic about this. just, calm everything down, and don't get too worked up about it. let's all take a step back, ok?

i'm suicidal again.

whoa, whoa, whoa, read that title again.  i'm drunk. and i'm super slow about everything, so this isn't an imminent threat.

but honestly.  suicidal thoughts are back in full strength.

i've been kind of coasting on a wave of panic and anxiety that made me feel like if i killed myself, then i'm just pushing burdens onto other people.

but that's kind of been relieved.  i could totally kill myself today, and it'd probably annoy a bunch of people, but they wouldn't be super burdened.

so, wow.  this is fucked up.  "if i'm stressed beyond comprehension, i can push that into a balloon that represents my sanity, but if that stress depletes, the balloon deflates, and only death awaits."

"you should go to therapy, sammy.  this can be fixed".  thanks, my brain.  telling me the things that are true.  jerk.

so, hey,


think about things.  i write some more cool porn.  you like it.  but then, six decades later, we're dead, and just a disgrace to your descendants.  and then think a million years from then.  no one cares.  i'm not like some sort of porno-jesus.  i've been forgotten for a million years.


and then like a billion years from then, the sun is going to ignite everything into a burnt cinder anyway.


so why does anything matter?  if i killed myself, why is that some sort of tragedy, when after everything, we all end up as ash under an angry sun?

"but we could help people, sammy!"

yes.  we could.  but a major political party is suggesting that "mexicans should probably just die" and "or blacks.  pretty much anyone not white"  and "like, literally, anyone not white.  they can just get shot if you feel the desire."  also, "gay people are demons who need to be expelled."

we could help people.

if any cared.

understand the first sentence of this post now?  if not, try reading again.

i know i'm a baby, baby

wwwhhhiiinnne!

shopping for jeans sucks.

"ok, those look fine."

NOPE.

"maybe these?"

NOPE.

"maybe just a size bigger?"

NOPE.

"are you stretchy enough?"

NOT FOR YOU, BITCH.

shopping for jeans fucking sucks.

hey.

um.

this is weird.

usually i get drunk, choose a point to fight over, do a big blog post about how like, squirrels are fucking people now.

and then wake up sober and make it all go away because that's pretty much nonsense.

and we don't even fucking have squirrels here.  are they really just like super fluffy tail cats?

so today i got all drunk like usual.

as-you-do.

and then forgot the point i was going to fight about.

like.  no clue.  squirrels are cute though.  fluffy tails and all that.

i have the beatles playing, so maybe that was the thing?  not as good as mr. david bowie?  they're pretty great, though, so this is a weak point.

so hey.  sammy here.  drunk up as i do.

without a point.

let's look at the news?

ok.  that's bad, that's good, that's also bad, that's cool, that's just kind of fucking horrible.

80 fucking percent.

christ.

"Laws in many states allow the police to arrest girls as young as 13 on prostitution charges, even when they are victims of sex trafficking."  omg.


dear prosecutors (i guess?),

what the absolute fuck?  "oh, congrats on getting raped a bunch!  your reward is going to jail!  you slut!"

diaf,
love,
sammy!


so, you know, if you're confused about how much i'm kind of going with the gay side of bi, read that last bit, and tell me how you feel.  seriously.  i was going to talk about the animal thing i saw today, but this is so much more fucking depressing, it makes a rhino potentially dying of gross infections due to humans ripping off a shitty horn seem like someone dropped a popsicle.


seriously.  i've read stories about cats playing with something for a bit, then killing it and eating it.  why is that so fucking less horrifying than what people do in like a day-to-day thing?

here comes the sun?

fuck you, the 60's.

good job fucking everything up in your adult-hood.  thanks for making me and my cohort so fucked up.


i can only forgive you so much for the chords used in "because".

and now you know how to turn me on.


ok.  time to drink enough that i don't care to update this post anymore.  just.

just think about things.  think about how much you might have helped, and didn't.

i'm doing the same, so don't get all upset.  i could have murdered old people, but instead i voted for the democrats.

TOTES KIDDING!

except the democrat thing.  i mean, i don't want to murder people in their sleep.

like the republicans.

#socialism_forever

does anyone else?

"fuck.  not another random rant.  go to sleep, sammy.  sleep is your friend.  like literally, you have friends in your sleep dreams."

yes, sure, whatever.  important thoughts:

does anyone else sit and think about how we all just live on this big rock floating through space?

like, we're basically just parasites on this bumpy chunk of not-vacuum tumbling around.

nothing we do matters.  there isn't an afterlife where we get to have angel orgies or whatever religions promise.  you die.  you stop thinking forever, because the thing that did the thinking doesn't work anymore.  you're like the pump in the soap dispenser that doesn't dispense soap because it ran out of soap.

but seriously,

nothing matters.  so everyone should probably try harder to not be such an ass to other people, because they're just trying to survive long enough that when they die (and stop thinking forever), they don't feel awful about everything.

so when i see things like this irish vote to make gay marriage totally not an issue, i stop and think about how much i should be like, "whoa.  yay!"

but then i i think about how much that not already being a thing that's ok is fucking awful.  we all die, we all get eaten by worms until we turn into dirt, and then those worms die and that dirt is sucked into the earth to make new continents far far away a billion years from now.

why does it matter then that you married XX instead of XY?

it doesn't.  nothing matters.  we all end up in the same way, after about the same amount of years.


so why do we have to fight so much to get everyone to accept this fact?
:(

hi. i'm drunk. are you drunk? i'm a lot drunk.

and i should be at work tomorrow.  but it's like 4am right now.  i woke up yesterday at 6am.  dear brain, why are you such a jerk?

so i may just call in tomorrow, "cough cough.  i am sick.  i don't think i can make it in today.  cough cough."

translation:  "cough cough"  humans make this sound, so i'm imitating it to make you think i have the sick.
translation: "i am sick" in the brain.  my brain is so full of corrupt, gross shit, you don't even want to know"
translation: "i don't think i can make it in today." that fucking bitch has ducked out for weeks.  i want a day to sit on my couch and watch shitty daytime tv.  i know we have a schedule, i know we have vendors to vet.  i want to sit down and watch shitty daytime tv while my brain tries to cope with keeping my eyes focused correctly on a single point."
translation: "cough cough" fuck you.  fuck her.  fuck everybody.  i want a day off. :(

post

crazy crazy crazy.

hate my life.

more crazy, followed by additional crazy.

probably should stop drinking so so much.

different crazy, on a completely different topic.

sad realization about my life, and the haze i've lived it through.

tear-soaked comment about how sad i am about homeless people.  because seriously, the fact that we have homeless people today is a fucking atrocity, and if i could, i'd murder people with money to make that not the case.

um....random communist-bent diatribe in support of the homeless?


sorry.


a lot of sorries.

which isn't a word, apparently.


sorry.

"You cannot modify more than 50 entries at once."

oh come on, you stupid thing.  first you're all "In the coming weeks, we'll no longer allow blogs that contain sexually explicit or graphic nude images or video. We'll still allow nudity presented in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts, or  where there are other substantial benefits to the public from not taking  action on the content."

so instead of eating dinner, i'm looking through old posts to find which ones have images and video that aren't ok now, and then setting them to draft so you don't delete everything like you did last time.

but i can't change more than 50 at once?  then why even have an option to see 100 posts at a time, blogger?  why is that a possibility if i can't actually do anything?

i think i have everything set to draft mode now, so hopefully i won't have my second blog deleted.  i also had to take down Mr. Sador's art that i've been using as a title thing.  however, i don't know how to change the title text, so it's hidden in the background color.  crap.

i'm guessing my videos are ok, since they're all youtube embeds.  is youtube legal, blogger?

if anyone sees something that looks like i should probably get rid of it, put a comment on it, and i'll fix it that way.

i can't quite figure out if fiction is now illegal too.  i'm going to assume it's ok, as long as there aren't images.  that's what hte email says.  still, everyone should probably remember my tumblr, just in case this all disappears.  i don't want to switch to there completely, because i really don't like the tumblr editor thingy.


so yeah.  thanks for taking an already shitty monday, and making it even shittier, blogger.
:(

dear old dude at the checkout lane,

yeah, i saw how you tried to use your papa john's club card as your grocery club card.  that told me you eat shitty pizza made by that jack ass's company.  that told me a lot about you right there.

"you must like that tea.  is it any good?"  wow.  you're like sherlock fucking holmes here.  i'm buying six bottles of tea.  what made you think that i like it?  is it the six of them sitting there, all together, with me buying it?

and no, it's shitty tea.  that's why i buy it.  because if i'm going to drink something, and drink six of them, i'm going to get something that sucks.  because that's super smart.

"yeah" is what i said.  "meh.  i'm trying to drink tea now instead of vodka so i am less likely to wake up in a puddle of bloody vomit someday.  not that i'm super into not dying, just that if you wake up in a puddle of bloody vomit, you're probably going to have to clean it up, and that's going to suck.  so yeah.  i'm buying six bottles of tea now, because that seems healthier to me" is what i meant.

i thought we had some sort of rule that you're not allowed to talk to people in the checkout lane about what they're buying.  so that means if someone's buying a bunch of toilet paper, you don't say something like, "oh, planning on taking a shit today?"  or if someone's buying the stereotypical condoms and long vegetables, they can just look embarrassed quietly without any weird conversations.

i saw what you were buying guy.  there was nothing for that cheese to go with.  were you planning on working on your night cheese, old dude?

so i guess today is a bad day

i want to cuddle up under a billion blankets, and then slice my forearm until it's just basically hamburger.

thanks brain.  you always know how to make my normal not sleeping into a hellish nightmare.

why don't you take this opportunity to just go fuck yourself in the face forever.

jerk.