voting notes.

also future stuff.

let's call this a spooky story, even though it isn't really.

mostly, i just want to put it down so i have some record of it.  it's weird though.

so, like super early tuesday morning, i woke up in my living room on my couch.  this isn't super unusual.  my couch is like ten feet away from my bed, so it's not like i was wandering around a lot in my sleep.  i assume that i got up to pee, and went to the wrong place due to, let's say, "chemical issues."

except when i woke up to go back to my bed, all i could think was "wow, this is an awful lot of pain."

when i actually woke up, my back super hurt, and when i looked at it, there's like a two inch long gash on my right side.  there was also a blood stain on my couch where that point on my back was.

and i have no idea how it got there.  like, nothing else had blood on it.

so i'm saying it was a ghost.  a ghost stabbed me in the back.  or like, lightly sliced by back enough that it bled on my couch.

spooky.

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

i'm hungry

or maybe just fake hungry.  i want bread, but like crusty hot fresh baked bread.  with butter.  so i can pull it apart, and spread butter on it, and it drips butter drops everywhere and i don't even care because it's hot and sweet and delicious.

that's....that's far more sexual sounding than i planned.  i am literally just talking about tasty bread.

maybe like dinner rolls or something?

or with cheese!  a pile of gooey cheese spread over hot bread.

i think what i'm saying is that i want a grilled cheese.

not-panic days are easier to deal with, but i still have weird thoughts.

today i learned

that "vindaloo" is hindi for "fuck you right in your stupid mouth."

i think i'm sick or getting sick

i've been shivery and either too cold or too hot all day.  my tummy is all grumpy, and i threw up lunch.

i think if i feel like this tomorrow morning, i'm just going to call in sick and go eat soup.  grumble.

i guess then i'd have time to sit down and actually write the next chapter instead of outlining a new one.  like i did for a bit this evening before i got distracted and stopped.

hey.

i'm sorry i've been shitty this month.  i went back and read my blog, and felt super sorry for everyone who had to read my shit.

"you're drunk right now."

You're drunk right now!

no...wait, no, you're right.  it's me...i'm drunk right now.  sorry about that.

yeah.  i know i had the bad liver shit, and the "let's try tea instead!" stuff.  i did that, but this last week before christmas has been horrible for my brain, so i went back to drinking, because vodka is the friend that never tells you you're too fucked up to write a blog post.  basically, it's the friend you wish your other friends could be, and that's probably why it's a bad idea to become alcoholic, and also, similarly, why i'm kind of glad i never grew up knowing people who sold heroin, because that sounds like the kind of friend who hugs you until you die.

deep breath.

sorry for getting weird (again) (always).

and sorry, for realsies, for being depressing and useless and junky all month.

i hate when my brain is like this, and i wish i could fix it, but almost everything sets me off in the wrong way.

sorry for that too.

sorry for being sorry all the time.

sorry that that is something i have to say.

here's the thing, ok?

i have problems.  a lot of problems.  you can't fix them, you probably can't help, unless you're one of like three people.  four people.  i do know real people in real life.  four.

i know i'm shitty at life.  i know that we'd all be happier if we could all look at my corpse as a lesson for other people.  i know that at least four people would be horrified and sad of that thought.

so.  i'm trying to keep me alive for you, for them, for me.  too.  i guess.

i hate being this mess, and i hate that i force other people to deal with my shit.  that's not fair, because everyone has to live their own life, and they all have to deal with shit that's probably far worse than i do.

i'm a pretty, pretty, princess who never fucking grew up to accept that no one cares what you do when you get old and fat.

sorry.  sorry for being sorry.  sorry for making you think you need to comment about how i'm not so shit as i think i am.  i'm a jerk for fooling you into making such a lie.

i'm just so sorry for everyone.

sorry.

like....all this shit, right?

i hate holidays.

when i was little, it wasn't so bad.  i'd make impossible stupid lists of shit that i wanted for christmas, i'd get a tenth of that, some clothes, some books, and some candy or something, and it'd all work out ok, because when you're a kid, candy and a doll can make any day the best day ever.

then, slowly, it kind of all seemed to rot.  i could hear my parents talking, so i made my list shorter, and filtered out things that seemed too expensive.  i tried to ask for things that didn't just look cool, but that seemed like they'd be fun to play with (so no more rock tumbler, because it turns out you can't just glue them to string and make a necklace).

[i maybe have told this story, but whatever, it's the time of year everyone listens to stupid shit songs they've heard since they were 4.  i get to repeat occasionally if i want to.]

when i was in middle school, i think, we had gotten to the end of christmas, and had our regular ham for lunch, and my grandparents were going to go home.  bachan was getting her purse and everything ready, and it hit me.   she'd gotten one gift.  i had this pile of junk that i thought was important, and she had a tiny bottle of perfume.

christ.  i wish i knew what it was.  she always put on the same scent when she thought she was going out to someplace fancy.  like a movie.  or dinner at a restaurant.  like, shit that you and i would be like, "well, i guess maybe i should put on pants to go there."  she'd break out the makeup and perfume, and i can kind of force my brain to pretend it can smell it, but i know it's not right.  and now i'm crying again.

but i had a pile of shit, and she was happy with one thing and some ham.  all i could think was, "what the fuck is wrong with me that i would think this is fair?"

and now, i'm all grown up and shit.  bachan isn't here anymore, and she'd probably tell me i was dumb for saying stuff like this now.  or she'd be distracted like she was for the last few years.  fuckgin.  why can't i free associate stuff like this when i have a therapist to talk to?

but i'm skipping the family get together this year.  i've claimed "i've got stuff to do for work," and "my boss is a jerk," but that's not true.  that's not at all true.  the real reason is that i'm uncomfrotable with them.  there's the usual social anxiety that probably isn't how you're supposed to feel around your family.  then there's the like...success guilt?

is that a thing?

i mean, if i were to go home and see them, and eat ham and do all the stuff, i'd be sitting there knowing that i make more money than everyone else there.  combined.  how can i possibly make it right and make sure they're not going home with one thing?  i already don't visit much, so when i do, i get fruits and books, and "oh, sammy, you like this, right?" things.  so that on top of, "here, sammy, have this!"

i'm sure you're all like, "damnit, sammy, they're your family.  they're not going to be counting items and summing receipts."  i don't care.  i can do it.  fuck "can."  "automatically do it because my brain is a fucking asshole who can't keep out of shit."  this is worse, i think.  i can come up with far more scenarios in which i annoy people than they can possibly reassure me about.

ok, i'm losing ttrack of the thread here.  holidays.  i'm breaking from the usual stress, and that's a new level of guilt-stress.

and i'm doing new years with my friend i went to visit for thanksgiving.  she was doing well, but then economy and jobs and now i guess her husband is unemployed?  so.  i guess i'll be playing legos with her 2-year old.  at least her demands are simple.  "daniel tiger!"  "LET IT GO!"

sigh.  why can't everyone just be like, "let's watch daniel tiger and then frozen songs on loop for three hours?"  i wouldn't be the crazy mess i am, i bet.  i'd be in a nice relationship, where we'd both get home from work, look at each other, and just be like, "Chocolate!"

and i guess this song is actually by wham?  i've only heard that one and another two jpop covers, so i never knew before now.

"you're drifting again, sammy"

ok, let's close up this rambley mess.  i'm unhappy.  the world sucks, and people murder and steal from other people all the time, for no other reason than they can't accept that everyone deserves the same treatment and life.  there's nothing i can do about this.  there's also nothing i can do about the fact that i'm terrified of everyone i meet, because my stupid brain can't ever forget anything that happens, and i assume other people remember those stupid embarassing things i say and do all the time.  i don't think this will ever get better, and i'm afraid it'll just grow until i get to the point where i can't cope with the echoing madness of long forgotten events and slice myself open in the tub.

so...

um...

i hope you have happy holidays?  i'll probably be back for a drunken christmas eve thing, and then not again until after the new year.  sorry.

sorry for everything.

sorry for not writing faster than i do.

sorry for being weird over email.

sorry for being weird in general.

i know you probably don't hate me, because you wouldn't be here reading this if you did.

i'm sorry that i'm sorry about that.

i just hate everything so much.

wake up.  stay in bed as long as possible.  go to work.  solve stupid problems for what is more money than i really need to survive, but also not enough for me to actually be happy solving those stupid problems.  go to store.  buy stupid junky food that has a 50/50 chance of either getting eaten or left to rot in my fridge.  go home.  hate all the shitty food i just bought, eat a thing of frozen mac and cheese instead.  watch stupid tv all evening while reading crap on the internet that maybe was once fun, but now just seems like a boring trudge to keep up.  go to bed and instead of sleeping (since that doesn't work anymore), watch youtube videos as i feel the springs of the mattress i just bought a year ago for like $1200 slowly stabbing me in the back until my eyes water from yawns and i put my computer away to try and pass out.

i'm supposed to do this for another like forty something years?

why?

what's the point?  what do i get out of this shit?

uuuugugughghhhhh

my nose is so stuffy and runny.  i hate being sick.  i just want to unplug my head, put it someplace where i don't have to deal with it while it's so gross, and then curl up under a blanket until everything is better.

:(

and it turns out that all the drugs i have for "being sick" have done basically nothing to fix anything.  stupid useless junk!

a bunch of sammy thoughts, so feel free to skip this one and wait for new porn

or, even better: you can look at lots of porn if you click to my tumblr.  that's largely where i'm looking at my porn now, because it's like a never ending river of porn that you can wade into, and let the porn wash over and around you.

thought 1: if you're afraid to go to work everyday, you should probably quit.  if you turn that fear into a motivator to use a gun to shoot people just because they don't listen to you, you should go to jail.  if you shoot people who actually are listening to you, you should double go to jail.  most people aren't criminals, so it doesn't make sense to assume they all are.  especially if that assumption is just because they're not the same race as you.  i'm glad i live someplace where the cops don't seem to be awful people most of the time.  it'd be great if they'd learn that homeless people are still people, but at least in those cases they still seem to just harass them into moving.  nobody ends up dead.

thought 2: remember last month when we had a hurricane, and i realized that homeless people are still people, and i could do more to help them than "nothing"?  i saw the newspaper guy over the weekend, and was able to get my window down and give him that $10 i had saved for him.  i'll admit that his hand touched mine when i handed him the money, and i held that hand all weird until i could get home and wash it clean.  i'm admitting that because i do the same thing when the cashier at safeway touches me handing me the receipt, when i have to touch the gas pump, and even when my doctor is like "yay! let's shake hands because that's fun!"  my brain is weird, and i don't like touching people because that makes me uncomfortable.

thought 3: on the doctor subject, i went back to the doctors to see if my knees actually suck, or if they're just grumpy for some reason.  it seems like the answer is "grumpy," with the suggestion that "diet and exercise can help things like this."  thanks for calling me fat, doctor knees.  in any case, i had to do more vampire tests, and they did another liver test since it was junky last time.  switching to tea instead of vodka at bedtime worked, i guess.  i should probably stick with tea to be healthy.  lame.

thought 4: i leave for a vacation tomorrow, so probably nothing much here for the next week.  also probably not much on that tumblr i mentioned once the queue dries up.  so basically no porn from me.  i think i used this before, but if you see news of a plane crash to or from honolulu and i don't ever post again, then i was on that plane and ker-sploded.  sorry i never finished those stories!

:)

this was going to be combined with that museum thing from earlier, but i didn't, so now it's a different thing.

first thing:  drinking tea to go to sleep is not the same as drinking vodka.  first difference: you don't cough as much drinking tea.  second difference: all the teas taste different, even when you restrict yourself to variations of green tea with honey.  third difference: i don't get snacky hungry as much at night.  fourth difference: i wake up at the time when the sun is like "Hey!  Let's be friends!"  no, sun.  i don't want to be your friend, because it's like ass oclock in the morning.  fifth difference: i may be a bit grumpier than before.  sixth difference: not drinking for 11 days feels pretty much the same as not drinking for 1 day.  or drinking for 11 days.  i guess i'm saying this one isn't much of a difference.


second thing: i'm a bit burned out on writing.  i've tried to work on three different stories, and i've put together about one sentence total.  i think i'm just going to take a break and try again after thanksgiving.  one main issue is that i just don't know where i want to go with "exhibition."  do i want to do more romantic stuff?  do i want to skip that and push back to weird torture-y bondage stuff?  can i figure out a way to mush them together and do both?  all the other big multipart stories i read seem like they have a plan and an running theme that they're working towards.  i just slap my fingers at the keyboard and churn out whatever my brain comes up with that day, without any concern about how to tie it to the future.


third thing: i think if someone sends me two emails in 24 hours, the second of which is "you didn't respond, so i'm going to say the same things again, pointing out how you didn't respond the first time," i'm either going to ignore that person forever, or i'll wait for the inevitable third email and then point out that i thought they were kind of a creeper way back at the first email, but i wanted to be polite and not bring that up.  also, if you're that guy, i'm totally talking about you right now.

my local museum is cooler than your local museum.

because my local museum is having a show titled "modern love: 20th century japanese erotic art".  that picture is totally one from their webpage.

it looks like it opens this weekend, and runs until mid-march, so i have lots of time to stop by.  that also gives me lots of time to spread when i decide to visit out, so i don't have to worry about someone seeing me there and being all, "hey, aren't you sammy from the internet?"

ok. what?

bedside luxury is almost three years old?

how is that even possible?

my brain is grumpy today

just.  all the grumps.

i hate these days.  i hate when i let external shit fuck with me to the point where i hate everything.

like people with loud cars, or stereos, or mopeds.  just this "whump whump whump" or "bzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzt" all evening.  i don't know why that's such a hard trigger, but it is.  i just hear this angry growl, and want to not hear it anymore.


today was a day i needed to cry.  i sat down, readied myself for the crying, and then turned the channel and watched a show about sloths.

did you know they only go down to the ground to poop?  imagine being all, "well, the ground is so down there...i'll just keep this poop for tomorrow, i guess."  sloths are kind of cool when you learn more about them.

but yeah.  i wish i could channel the tears when i want them.  i think that would help me fight stress more than i do now.

i just want a good ugly cry. :(

no new story today

i got about a paragraph written after trying all day.

part of it is that i'm just so unhappy that so much of the country is dumb and voted for bully jerks.

hawaii didn't.  i think everyone i voted for is winning.  so, at least i get to live in one of the few places that doesn't suck.

:(

maybe you disagree, but whatever, it's my blog.

elections are this week.  so you should probably go vote.

however, if you're thinking, "yes, sammy, i agree.  i'm voting republican!" then, ok, see?

you can go fuck yourself, right?  which party has spent years being all "if we let gay people marry, then everyone will get divorces to go get gay married instead of having babies"?  i mean, that doesn't even make sense, but that's what they've been saying.

so.  hey.  if you vote for republicans (at all, in any race, anywhere), then you're dumb, and i don't want to be friends with you.  stop reading my blog, and go away forever, ok?

if you are voting for democrats this year, then good news!  hawaii makes election day a holiday, so i'll have an extra day to write more stuff!  woo!  more fun porn for kinky progressives! :)

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.

:(

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.

here's a thing.

Do You Love Someone With Depression?

if you're here, then the answer is probably yes.  sorry.  shall we do the list?

1. my apartment is messy as fuck.  my bedroom is full of dirty clothes, and when i think i'm going to run out, i cram a bunch into the washer and dryer, and hope i come up with enough for tomorrow.
2. cooking used to be that thing i loved.  then i stopped cleaning so great, so now i get cockroaches, and cooking when you're terrified a bug is going to run across your pan or your onions or something is horrible.  so.  yeah.  taco bell and mcdonalds.  also supermarket cali rolls, because i'm lame like that.
3. i think this one is silly because of the random psycho "earthing" thing, but yeah, fine.  i stay inside all the time.  i sunburn too easily.
4. i used to shave a lot.  now?  i just put on pants, and ignore the people who are like, "aren't you hot?"  no.  fuck you.  we work in a place with air conditioning.  why would i fucking bother?
5. that was 5, but i skipped 4.  this is four now.  i.. don't know.  i'm sad, i'm lonely, and moving to a new office "that's all your own!" just makes me more lonely.  i live at home alone, then wake up to go to work alone, sit in my office alone, then go to the store to be overly polite to people because they make less money than i do and have to deal with shitty people, but i don't get to deal with any people, so why don't i get that relief, and then go back home where i can be alone with my tv again.  this isn't a great thing to do.
6. for realsies, i think.  when was the last time i had a hug?  four years ago?  my friend's daughter doesn't count.  she's 2.  two year olds hug plates.  i saw her do it.  i will say that having a tiny person hug you does help, but you might start crying, and that will freak out a 2-year-old.  "why doesn't anyone else love me?"
7. i laughed at a tumblr thing where this dog heard this parrot, and the parrot gave commands that confused the dog, and it's funny, but maybe you havfe to have seen it?  but i don't laugh.  at anything really.  people say stuff that are clearly jokes, and my brain is all "that's a joke.  indicate joke." and i like, "heh."  so it's great that getting super depressed makes you even more likely to make people think you're a jerk.  it's seriously like it's just trying to push you far enough away to kill yourself.
8. people can't.  when you tell someone, "i think i want to kill myself," they hide.  except if you're talking to a therapist, and then you get the "if you have a plan, i'm obligated to call the police and have you taken to someplace safe."  who plans this shit?  i can't imagine other people plan out elaborate checklists of things to do.  my plan?  get drunk (check!) take some drugs you have (kind of check?  i just bit half the pill)  wait until you stop feeling stuff, and then cut yourself, or swallow a bunch of cool pills (if you have them), and keep drinking the vodka until you pass out.  like, if i'm lucky, i'd end up dead.  if i'm not, then i have to wash the sheets, soak the vomit and piss out of the mattress, and hope that it doesn't stink.
9. so yeah. that's a destructive thought.  i don't have anyone to challenge it.  "i can!" you say.  nope.  you're an internet person, and i could blog about all i'm doing, and the  best you can do is to post a comment about how i'm a good person.  or you can call the cops here and say that someone named samantha might be trying to kill herself, somewhere on oahu.  the cops will probably be super happy to solve the vaguest suicide ever.
10. why you love me.  fuck.  now i feel like i'm baiting people to tell me good things they like about me.  i'm not.  my tenuous ties to this blog and internet existence rely on three people, and (based on the blogger stats), you're probably not one of them.  (in case you are, thanks for being wonderful at your own thing, and you have to know that you're the you i'm talking to right now).

but really.  this is a thing.  i'm bad at dealing with my own feelings, and i'm bad at solving the basic human interaction we're supposed to do in our lives.  i should probably go back to therapy, but it took so much time, and i don't think i got proportional results back.  really, if i could just get a perpetual xanax prescription, i'd probably be ok.

not "sane" or "better" just able to cope with things.  have you had xanax?  it is a miracle.

then again, that time i got super wasted on that opium cough syrup was kind of cool too.  

i think my lesson today is: "do lots of drugs, because they pull your mind back from the abyss of reality."

i'm...i'm a shitty teacher, i think.