What an interesting, fucking, day.
This guy has a spasm-bipolar attack on me.
My manager (fucking aaannnyaa) rolls her eyes at me after THEY forget to pay ME for a shift.
I find out that I have to take PSYC 1010 AGAIN.
By tomorrow, I'll have no money and a metro pass :D
The only good thing to come out of today was my new blackberry transformers case. Fuck.
4/29/10
4/28/10
Thank The Unconscious
I truly believe (at this point) that I make retail (RETURNABLE) purchases as an unconscious incentive to save the money I work so hard for (clearly, my savings account is an invisible entity and worth nothing to my psyche). As quickly as the money comes, it goes. And I can't talk to anyone about it without them feeling sorry for me, or getting annoyed!
I can't even write about it here (people read this).
Sometimes, I just want to talk to a close friend about my woes, so I don't have to feel like I'm lagging a whale of a cross on top my aching back - obviously, I'm not going to tell anyone my life story, but the fact that I get to start a sentence with the letter "I" excites me.
Seriously, as much as I love talking to God about my issues (and sometimes it's better than people, in fact, I enjoy animals, books, television, and children more than people - oh c'mon, children aren't people... people are old), it would be nice to talk to a friend. Then there's that part of me that doesn't like to talk about anything in my personal life. I don't even really like to talk about what I've eaten during the day...
With that thought, I think I might stick to talking with God.
I can't even write about it here (people read this).
Sometimes, I just want to talk to a close friend about my woes, so I don't have to feel like I'm lagging a whale of a cross on top my aching back - obviously, I'm not going to tell anyone my life story, but the fact that I get to start a sentence with the letter "I" excites me.
Seriously, as much as I love talking to God about my issues (and sometimes it's better than people, in fact, I enjoy animals, books, television, and children more than people - oh c'mon, children aren't people... people are old), it would be nice to talk to a friend. Then there's that part of me that doesn't like to talk about anything in my personal life. I don't even really like to talk about what I've eaten during the day...
With that thought, I think I might stick to talking with God.
4/22/10
The camera God gave me
No gimmicks today, just plain - just plain.
Don't I look hot in this photo?
Happy birthday to me! Dumi gave me one of the BEST birthday presents EVER: A Dufflet Cake . Yes, it was THAT good.
I can hear all your intestine linings screaming out, "nooo - I wanted to get my hands on some sweat Dufflet ass". I know, it's sad. Maybe next year.
And not only did I get a Dufflet cake for my birthday, I got a VANILLA SOBEYS CAKE on my ACTUAL birthday - YES, I had cake on my birthday!!!
It was glorious. Thank you family.
Don't I look hot in this photo?
Happy birthday to me! Dumi gave me one of the BEST birthday presents EVER: A Dufflet Cake . Yes, it was THAT good.
I can hear all your intestine linings screaming out, "nooo - I wanted to get my hands on some sweat Dufflet ass". I know, it's sad. Maybe next year.And not only did I get a Dufflet cake for my birthday, I got a VANILLA SOBEYS CAKE on my ACTUAL birthday - YES, I had cake on my birthday!!!
It was glorious. Thank you family.
4/18/10
Photo's by God
You know the part in Beauty and the Beast, when Belle says, "come into the light"?
Yeah, this is what I look like in light:
YES, I LOOK LIKE A RETARDED BOTCH CHILD.
She's like, "what the fuck is that?"
Yeah, this is what I look like in light:
YES, I LOOK LIKE A RETARDED BOTCH CHILD.She's like, "what the fuck is that?"
4/17/10
Dilemma's keeping me from an end.
No lies, no exaggerations... nothing I'm about to say is for one second a fabrication of the truth. I don't even think you'll be shocked by this.
I don't want to live anymore - I'm not being emo right now, like seriously.
I absolutely have nothing to live for at this very moment.
The will to live is the most powerful will for all living entities, and I feel as though if a train were to hit me (without the possibility of survival - coming out with a set of broken ribs, or maybe even paralyzed) tomorrow, I wouldn't veer "to the left, to the left".
I don't feel alive anymore. I feel so useless. I feel like when I'm working, Gap is wasting their money on me, I feel like I'm wasting a beer when I drink it, I feel like I'm wasting peoples time every time they talks to me, I feel like I'm wasting money on food I have to eat, I feel like I'm wasting my potential to be a better friend, I feel like I'm wasting a well equipped body that could be used to make millions in the sex industry, I feel like I'm wasting that John Mayer ticket, I feel like I'm wasting my divine talents, I feel like I'm wasting a bed homeless people could be sleeping on, I feel like I'm wasting this blackberry, laptop, and camera that someone else could be using.
The only reason I'm choosing to live is because I don't know what would happen to my mother if I died, and I don't like anything to do with pain - self inflicted, by force, or accidental.
This is why I want to cancel my birthday party, and delete my facebook, and stop following everyone on twitter, and not go to people birthday party', and just sleep/read books at chapters/watch television.
I don't want to hear anyone tell me to go seek out a therapist - I don't have money for that shit you fuckers (one fucker in particular). This blog is my fucking therapist. The CW is my fucking therapist. SLEEP is my fucking therapist, so fuck off. When I have enough money to pay someone $45/hour to talk about a bunch of shit I could talk to a glowing screen about, then I'll go to a therapist.
And it's not like I don't know why this is happening. I just don't know what to do. I wish they would hablar conmigo sobre esto (can't even say it in english...), or tell me that I'm really cool and they want to take ME somewhere special, but people aren't perfect. And I am even less than whatever they all are.
I don't want to live anymore - I'm not being emo right now, like seriously.
I absolutely have nothing to live for at this very moment.
The will to live is the most powerful will for all living entities, and I feel as though if a train were to hit me (without the possibility of survival - coming out with a set of broken ribs, or maybe even paralyzed) tomorrow, I wouldn't veer "to the left, to the left".
I don't feel alive anymore. I feel so useless. I feel like when I'm working, Gap is wasting their money on me, I feel like I'm wasting a beer when I drink it, I feel like I'm wasting peoples time every time they talks to me, I feel like I'm wasting money on food I have to eat, I feel like I'm wasting my potential to be a better friend, I feel like I'm wasting a well equipped body that could be used to make millions in the sex industry, I feel like I'm wasting that John Mayer ticket, I feel like I'm wasting my divine talents, I feel like I'm wasting a bed homeless people could be sleeping on, I feel like I'm wasting this blackberry, laptop, and camera that someone else could be using.
The only reason I'm choosing to live is because I don't know what would happen to my mother if I died, and I don't like anything to do with pain - self inflicted, by force, or accidental.
This is why I want to cancel my birthday party, and delete my facebook, and stop following everyone on twitter, and not go to people birthday party', and just sleep/read books at chapters/watch television.
I don't want to hear anyone tell me to go seek out a therapist - I don't have money for that shit you fuckers (one fucker in particular). This blog is my fucking therapist. The CW is my fucking therapist. SLEEP is my fucking therapist, so fuck off. When I have enough money to pay someone $45/hour to talk about a bunch of shit I could talk to a glowing screen about, then I'll go to a therapist.
And it's not like I don't know why this is happening. I just don't know what to do. I wish they would hablar conmigo sobre esto (can't even say it in english...), or tell me that I'm really cool and they want to take ME somewhere special, but people aren't perfect. And I am even less than whatever they all are.
Like Alexander, We Conquered!!!
April 17th, 2007:
A satisfactory night, not stupendous - you'd think it would have been one of the pinnacles of my young life, but this was happening at the time:
Yes, his "white supremacist cock" was on "sexual napalm", and that (!) was why his 'Continuum' concert wasn't as pleasing as it should have been.
And though I haven't enabled another trip into one of his bluesy Toronto concert halls (and froze to death like I was on the Titanic, with an irritating Mvb outside one of them), we've persevered - yes, we (we = Mvb + Me) have tickets to his Molson Amphitheater concert, on August 11, 2010, a mere 3 years later; after much love and obsession, tears and freezing of my bodily fluids, makeup sex, napalm, and legions of 'ex's' brewing by the micro-second, I finally get to marvel at his marvelous-ness, and see him do what he does best - make orgasm faces.
I've only got a couple words for you universe: IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME.
A satisfactory night, not stupendous - you'd think it would have been one of the pinnacles of my young life, but this was happening at the time:
Yes, his "white supremacist cock" was on "sexual napalm", and that (!) was why his 'Continuum' concert wasn't as pleasing as it should have been.
And though I haven't enabled another trip into one of his bluesy Toronto concert halls (and froze to death like I was on the Titanic, with an irritating Mvb outside one of them), we've persevered - yes, we (we = Mvb + Me) have tickets to his Molson Amphitheater concert, on August 11, 2010, a mere 3 years later; after much love and obsession, tears and freezing of my bodily fluids, makeup sex, napalm, and legions of 'ex's' brewing by the micro-second, I finally get to marvel at his marvelous-ness, and see him do what he does best - make orgasm faces.
I've only got a couple words for you universe: IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME.
Duecing at Rye-High
Not really sure why, but truthfully, I don't think there has ever a time when I've been at Ryerson and NOT taken a dump within their heavy walls.
My take at a Cottonelle ad - This was the only picture I took that was "appropriate".
4/15/10
Foreshadowing Certain Boredom
If this is what summer's gonna be like, then hell, I might as well join a convent.
4/14/10
Don't Fuck With Me...
I'm having a good day....SO GOOD, that I think I might want to enjoy some "NAKED VANESSA HUDGENS"!!!!
BAM!
BAM!!
BAM!!!
Angry Little Girl
I'd like to think that as a human being with a fixed underlying primitive nature, I have the right to make mistakes, make bigger deals out of things than I need to, blame people for things I probably did OR not credit enough blame to myself, and swear like a sailor... and I think I'm entitled to a bitch day.
But everyday I try to conquer the urge to slam somebody into a brick wall. Every single day.
I think I've improved.
It's particularly difficult right now, but I conquer damn it.
Don't be surprised if I join the army. Sigh - If only I weren't so lazy.
4/12/10
A couple words on a sucking life.
When you're in your moments of "mass destruction", there are supposed to be people you can count on to always be there. A.L.W.A.Y.S.
AND THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS SHOOK YOU.
I'd also like to add, broken people are not on the agenda. I am not broken, I'm UNFORTUNATE.
Also, in these times of need, I remind myself that I only have 70 more years left of this bullshit, and I probably don't even have that much - correction, UP TO 70 years of this bullshit.
Men fucking suck.
Money fucking sucks.
Religion fucking sucks.
The gov't fucking sucks.
FACEBOOK FUCKING SUCKS.
BIRTHDAYYYS fucking suck major donkey ball ass!!!
AND NOTHING EVER GETS BETTER.
I NEED A PUNCHING BAG, FUDGE!!!
4/9/10
Love is all there is.
I'm gonna say something about Love: It's all there is in life; Everything else is an illusion. Fear is an illusion, the spatial contingencies of this world (that includes money) are all illusions. It's nothing but a pseudo dungeon of make believe, with it's purpose in teaching us the very fact that Love is really all there is.
4/5/10
Through God's Eye's: The Town Drunk
This is what happens when you drink...
ACTUALLY, on second thought, this is what happens on your 21st birthday...
Working for the City of Townsville!
"The city... of Tooownsville!"
Brings me back to my Power Puff Girl days...
------------------------------------
What I really mean to say is: The city of... of Torontooo!
As in, I might be working for, the city... of Torontooo!
Applications are in, now give me an interview universe!
Brings me back to my Power Puff Girl days...------------------------------------
What I really mean to say is: The city of... of Torontooo!
As in, I might be working for, the city... of Torontooo!
Applications are in, now give me an interview universe!
4/4/10
Through God's Eyes: The Kids Section
It's my Mumma in the kids section at Payless!
She can't deny it anymore, there's proof!
She can't deny it anymore, there's proof!
Good Friday
I used to think that if I ate meat on Good Friday I would go to hell.
I don't believe that anymore, but I ate fish today anyway.
BUT
Only because it was gooood. If it weren't good, I wouldn't be eating it son.
I don't believe that anymore, but I ate fish today anyway.
BUT
Only because it was gooood. If it weren't good, I wouldn't be eating it son.
The Real Reason I Hardly Write
It's not that I don't like writing and making a spectacle of myself, it's just that I'm lazy as fuck.
If the world were exposed to my blogging, it would be different, but they're not, per say.
This is strictly a memorial used as occasional entertainment. Does that make sense?
Pictures go up if I'M not lazy, and most of the time, I am.
End of story.
...actually, with the summer break on the horizon, I think I'll be doing a bit more.
This was just an explanation for why my blog isn't as colorful or as lengthy as others (no names, I catch up on many blogs from time to time).
Here's some love:
If the world were exposed to my blogging, it would be different, but they're not, per say.
This is strictly a memorial used as occasional entertainment. Does that make sense?
Pictures go up if I'M not lazy, and most of the time, I am.
End of story.
...actually, with the summer break on the horizon, I think I'll be doing a bit more.
This was just an explanation for why my blog isn't as colorful or as lengthy as others (no names, I catch up on many blogs from time to time).
Here's some love:
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