venting kelsey my mom and my aunt have just raised my stress level mucho high, its been like this since they found out i cut myself, that happened months ago. They keep getting pissed off at me, for stupid things, like falling asleep after she asked me to make my bed, and i mean, i had the whole day to make my bed, and i don't even sleep so fuck, couldn't she just let me sleep as i was on the chair? i guess not. i let her though, indeed i did, after she promised me she would watch the movie i rented. My aunt told me to make something for my mom, you know something that says how sorry i am, how much i lover her, blah blah blah. Well guess what, i am not sorry, i mean im sorry she gave birth to me expecting something else of a daughter, but you can't just bring life into the world, expecting it to be easy, especially when that life hates life, but jesus christ, im not suicidle, that is where self injury is way overrated. She expects me to write some country song to spill out my soul of how sorry i am for her, i mean shes a good mom and all, but i can not write like that. I can write like a headbanger, a disturbed soul, a tattered piece of me and as marilyn manson would. But not a country singer. Some people need a good slap on the noggin.. i do know that includes me, i know its my fault my mom is stressed, but she takes so much more than it is. I really needed to vent. Excuse this posting. 041002 ... ever dumbening so far forward, yet so far back. it's as if i'm not allowed to be angry or sad or scared or wrong any more. i'm "37"; i'm "not depressed anymore"; i've "found what i want to do". but when work beats me down, when home is no refuge either, when i'm not creating not surfing not loving not writing not talking not fucking not hiking not sleeping not breathing, when the shit piles high, my optimism is strained. i have so many tools i never had before. why, then, am i afraid to use them? so cloudy, so uncertain. but didn't i leave this all behind? and streaming wwoz? that's pretty much just masochistic nostalgic masturbation. 2.5 times, and still i'm left with nothing. and the fact that that is even at the top of the list pisses me off more. fuck you james: 49% fuck you everyone else: 51% ya hoid meh, hahm bruh. 061130 ... epitome of incomprehensibility Happy thermal treacle darts bleat neolithic friends. Great drizzle feuds muddled into existence under the yodeling moon. My own recumbent charts flitted happily through thickets of digital flats, coddled in semitransparent glitter, as I gazed ineffectively on the Nicene scene. 140212 what's it to you? who go blather from