people are strange.

Everybody has more friends than I give them credit for. Especially some of my closer friends. I guess it's easy to put on the best friend blinders and expect (maybe not expect, maybe just assume) that you are the one person by which all other friendships are judged. It's just not the case, I'm afraid. Everybody has people.

Anyway, something has been bothering me lately. Why is it that there are people in the world who will stand by you no matter what, who would never be able to say no to helping you out if you really needed it, and at the same time ,those same people can and usually do turn around and hate you? I've been on the receiving end of this as much as anybody else has, but it's still fucking perplexing.

I guess I wonder what makes a person do that.

Also strange is the way people will keep torturing themselves with pointless "quests" to be the perfect person in the eyes of their particular perfect person. whew. alliterative. Honestly, though, what qualifies beating one's head against a brick wall and fighting and fucking as love? IS that all love really is? being able to stand one person's bullshit at all times, no matter the situation? What if that person has mistreated you? Cheated? Abused? Lied? At that point, what is preserving this notion of love would seem to be nothing more than a slight case of Stockholm's.

Whatever. oh, and hey you. yeah you. stop being antisocial.

RAGEBOT

IS RAGEFUL.

GUESS I GOT MY SWAGGA BACK.

I can't even.

What is.

HOW.

STOP.

JESUSFuckingCHRISTalmightybrainisgiongbrainisgoingcantcopecantdoitwontdoitchangingisdifficultimabadpersondontwannachangewannabestupidforeverandthisisnthelpingimgoingcrazyandnobodyistheregtogowithme.

“She may be going to Hell, of course, but at least she isn't standing still” - e e cummings

Ya know, I underestimate the people around me. I think they all know a lot more about life than I think they do. I guess if I listened better, I'd learn something about myself, maybe improve life a little bit, but I like where I'm at. It's fucking comfy.

Jenny and Shea are the two I'd peg to have it together the most. At least, as far as social responsibility goes. They seem to get everything done, and still have energy to make life interesting. (Well, interesting with a generous dash of crazy where those two are concerned.) Either way. I love Jenny. I USED to love Shea, now I love her as my best friend, and from what I've seen, that has made everything SO MUCH EASIER. She rocks, and helps to keep my head screwed on tight. Although this littel three-way friendship circle is full of awkwardness for me, honestly.

Seriously, I don't understand how they stayed friends at all. But bully for them, I like it better that way.

The moral of this fuckin blog post is: FRIENDS ARE FUCKIN' SWEET.

I have

No interest in your problems.

No inclination nor incentive to understand them.

No patience.

No sympathy.

No empathy.

I refuse to reiterate what everyone has already told both of you. What we all still firmly believe as your friends. If neither of you listened before, neither will now.

So.

Fucking off.

They got a name for people like you, hi.

That name is "recidivism"...

rage

Every time. bails. every time. so much so that I want to make a really horrible joke about it like, "She could be named bailing WIRE. heh. heh." either way, not surprised.

Still, next time try not to have people accommodate your plans with their schedule so that their fucking friday isn't fucking ruined when you decide to have a fucking emotional crisis.

Fuck.

Now what.

If this is the way it is

then it can stay this way as far as I'm concerned. I guess it's called striking a happy medium, and oh, fan fucking tastic. you still read this. that's.... interesting.

whatever. read on, faithful subscriber et confidant. I guess I like having someone to secretly bitch to about things. verrry womanly of me. classy broad, that's me.

whatever.

nothing in this world changes, it only bends.

Seriously.

I just want a beer right now.

Jenny got into a car accident, is being towed home, and we are going to sit around and do absolutely nothing because we have absolutely nothing. I hate this.

something to gnaw at.

Love is a foolish melancholy
Leading the mind with false persuasions.
Else why see I not my folly,
Losing time to get occasions?

My love is always lunacy.
Methinks my heart is so on fire
That though my mistress send for me
I dare not for my life come nigh her.

Methinks love's sparkles would so start
And at her sight give forth such flame
That standers-by would see my heart
And by the light, there read her name.

FUCK. EVERYTHING. no but srsly.

life is getting really annoying. I'm going to california.

With neither.

down here at the bottom of everything

We like to make mistakes. It's so ingrained in humans to err and fuck up and generally JUSTGOFUCKINGBANANASEVERYONCEINAWHILE, and yet some people still look down on me for my outbursts, idiosyncrasies, and general bad taste and lack of any sort of contemporarily accepted morality. You know what, fuckers?

Eat it.

I am dylan andrew thomas holycross, and I am a bastard.

I am unequivocally self-centered, rude, unforgiving in multiple respects, greedy, lazy, quick to anger, and cowardly.

I am nastiness and hedonism, amalgamated into one evil, nasty, little body. All these negative character traits I am going to blame on race. I'm one asshole of a person. But yet, people like me for some reason, and so I went and decided to supremely throw the biggest monkey wrench into my life that I could.

I'm sorry.

To both of them.

Neither one deserves what I did to them. Hell, I didn't think it possible, but in one fell swoop, I've managed to make myself feel more lonely than I have felt in about two years or so. Even with all of these people surrounding me with friendship and love, it's still too incredible to me that the two that mattered got steamrolled under my gigantic idiocy.

I have no soul. Just a black void that feeds off my bad decisions. Curse you, infernal bad-decision eating void. Curse you so fuckin hard.

Haruko

Naota.

Interior decoration for the masses

Look at yourself in the mirror. No, but seriously. Look at the person behind the flesh, bones, and sinew. What's going on in there, inside your brain? ho are you and what defines you? If you can answer that question, you're lying to yourself. If I can answer that question, I am most certainly full of shit.

Motivation is a funny thing. drive, purpose, whatever you want to call it, it's strange. It can come around for a short time or a long one. It can be the motivation for good or the motivation for bad. It can be so many things, both positive and negative, but it drives a person along their set path in life. It determines what comes next by governing your drive to do certain things, and associate with certain people. Even the lack of motivation helps to decide where you will go in life or what you will or will not do. It is the driving force behind all actions.

That being said. What is your motivation? What makes you so special? What the hell are you gonna do with your life? Questions I need to ask myself as much as I want to ask them of other people. But really. For 21 years I have been walking around and doing my thing. Many different decisions and many different people have led me to this point in my life, and were it not for those decisions, if only one of those key events or moments had not happened, or had happened differently, I would definitely be somewhere else, with somebody else, and have completely different friends, values, and interests. Are our personalities really so malleable? I find it hilarious to think that the convictions people cling to were formed purely by chance.

Enjoy your day, folks.