One day.

I hope one day I’ll pop up in your head and you’ll think to yourself, “I never should have let her go…”

Nowadays.

I just wanna curl up in a ball and cry nowadays. This is not how I wanted things to go.

Protected: Jealousy.

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I hate.

I hate when I hit every red light on the way to work.
I hate that asshole that drives 30 in a 55 mile zone.
I hate that asshole that is driving up my ass when I’m already above speed limit.
I hate stop lights being in places that aren’t needed.
I hate cars that have stickers on them showing how many family members they have.
I hate cars with spinning rims.
I hate people who play shitty music too loud.
I hate people who don’t realize everyone but them thinks their music sucks.
I hate men who wear their pants too low.
I hate women who have to show off their breasts.
I hate women who think they’re sexy by doing so.
I hate women who have children with them while dressed like that.
I hate children.
I hate children, except for mine.
I hate the noises children make.
I hate the stupid questions children ask.
I hate parents who dress their kids like sluts.
I hate parents who give their kids cell phones too early.
I hate parents who ignore the fact that their children are behaving like shits.
I hate parents who let their kids walk all the way across the store alone.
I hate parents who freak out when their kids go missing after allowing that.
I hate pregnant women.
I hate pregnant women, because I’m jealous of them.
I hate pregnant women who think birth is a miracle.
I hate pregnant women who think birth is a miracle when they have 4 kids already.
I hate pregnant women who expect everyone with a penis to bend over backwards for them.
I hate pregnant women who act like bitches because of their “hormones”. Half of you are using it as an excuse.
I hate people who have more than 3 kids.
I hate people who refuse to use birth control.
I hate people who are sucking up welfare because they were too stupid to use birth control.
I hate people who buy food I can’t afford with food stamps. I can’t buy it, you shouldn’t either!
I hate people who have money to get their nails done, but still have food stamps.
I hate people who refuse to adopt because “it’s not their blood”.
I hate people who think abortion is bad because their religion tells them.
I hate people who think it’s much more effective to stop legal abortion so women can die doing it with a hanger at home.
I hate people who think not having kids is selfish.
I hate people who think being gay means you’re selfish, because you won’t have kids.
I hate people who think being gay means you’re special.
I hate people who think I’m a homophobe.
I hate people who think I’m a homophobe while somehow missing the part where I said I was gay at somepoint in my life.
I hate people who parade in the streets about their sexuality and make the rest of us look bad.
I hate transgendered people who feel the need to tell you they’re transgendered instead of assuming the gender you feel you are.
I hate people who think any sexuality other than straight is a mental disorder.
I hate people who misuse the terms bisexual and pansexual.
I hate people who think being bi means anything other than sexuality, who cares. You’re not cool because you fuck both.
I hate the fact that some fucktard will try to correct me using their own opinions.
I hate the fact that that fucktard will say, “I’m just expressing my opinion, I’m allowed.” Because they can’t handle someone thinking different.
I hate hearing the same song on the radio more than once a day.
I hate Taylor Swift’s song subjects.
I hate the word fairy tale.
I hate fat women who think it’s appropriate to wear spandex.
I hate being overweight myself.
I hate myself.
I hate skinny women who think we want to see a skeleton walking around in a tubetop. Put clothes on.
I hate men who let their women control them.
I hate women who let their men control them.
I hate people too stupid to realize when a relationship should be over.
I hate people who think they can “change” someone to their liking.
I hate people who use the word epic.
I hate Nyan-cat.
I hate most cats in general.
I hate roachs.
I hate moths that look like roaches.
I hate that I will never please my mother.
I hate that my mother always tells me what kind of a shitty person I am.
I hate that my mother still tries to control me, even after I’ve become a mother myself.
I hate the fact that I have a headache.
I hate people who pretend to have illnesses.
I hate people who get caught and pretend that “suiciding” on the internet is funny.
I hate people who take granted for life when some of us don’t have that kind of time.
I hate people who TYPE IN ALL CAPS.
I hate text speak.
I hate people who order food at my deli and won’t get off the fucking phone.
I hate people who ask questions that could be answered by taking two seconds to LOOK.
I hate Windows 7’s MS Paint.
I hate Microsoft Word 2007.
I hate any photoshop passed 7.0.
I hate the fact that the last 3 sentences had the number 7 in it.
I hate Mac too.
I hate smartasses who don’t realize they’re not being smart.
I hate dumbasses.
I hate adobe reader.
I hate GIMP.
I hate Firefox.
I hate yaoi fangirls, especially that fag at work who always draws it and believes I want to see her work.
I hate yaoi fangirls who write sex scenes and obviously don’t know how gay sex works.
I hate yaoi fangirls who pair anything with a penis together.
I hate cheesy love stories.
I hate romantic comedies that aren’t funny.
I hate when someone wears red and purple at the same time.
I hate August.
I hate hot weather.
I hate everything about this list.
I hate everything about you.
I hate anyone who didn’t catch the song reference in that.
I hate Vacuum cleaners.
I hate names I can’t pronounce.
I hate names I can pronounce, but can’t spell.
I hate people who don’t notice my name when getting bitchy.
I hate how this is three pages long and I don’t feel like I’m close to done.
I hate the bitch who lives in the room across the hall.
I hate the fact that my phone shuts itself off without warning.
I hate the fact that I have Angry Birds on it and it takes up so much of my time.
I hate the fact that Skype makes stupid noises.
I hate when I have over 40 notes in my inbox.
I hate when I forget to check my email and there’s something important in it.
I hate when I forget that I get paid.
I hate that my insurance is 120 bucks a month.
I hate people who consider soccer a sport.
I hate uptight vegetarians.
I hate uptight vegetarians who get pissy with me.
I hate people who talk about the weather when it’s not relevant.
I hate people who fantard about a series.
I hate people who get whiny when I openly hate their favorite series.
I hate True Blood.
I hate Twilight.
I hate My Little Pony.
I hate Kingdom Hearts.
I hate Naruto fans.
I hate Final Fantasy 13.
I hate that Final Fantasy 13 didn’t even feel like fantasy.
I hate that I’m not as cool as Gabriel Belmont.
I hate that everything has to have a sequel.
I hate good sequels that got bad ratings like Terminator 4, being superior to 3.
I hate Jurassic Park 3.
I hate that kid I work with that act like a fuck.
I hate hats.
I hate moving my laptop.
I hate politics.
I hate people who think I should be interested in politics.
I hate people who act encouraging when I don’t want to hear it.
I hate being sick.
I hate having an itch I can’t reach because I’m too short to reach it.
I hate being short.
I hate when I have an idea that sounds awesome, but I’m too lazy to get to it.
I hate when people call me sweetie.
I hate people who call me Danielle and have never spoken to me before.
I hate people who think I post all of my art online and don’t realize I have an entire portfolio of non-posted art.
I hate my voice.
I hate that I haven’t finished Pokémon White.
I hate that I enjoy drawing Pokémon, because they’re more fun than drawing people.
I hate when someone tells me I should make nice with my mother.
I hate motorcycles with three wheels.
I hate people who are obsessed with motorcycles.
I hate black people who hate white people.
I hate white people who hate black people.
I hate Mexicans who dislike that a white person who is smarter than them.
I hate that I’m too lazy to learn Spanish.
I hate people who make fun of orange pickers.
I hate tourists.
I hate when people whine at me over the word “retard”.
I hate how many edits I will have to make to this in the future.

Day-old Coffee.

So there you are, lost in your own translation. I’m not sure if you believe yourself anymore, or if you’re just trying really, really hard to get me to believe you. I don’t know how to help you anymore. You’ve closed yourself off from me and have made yourself unreachable. We talk, as we always do, about this and that and those little things we’ve learned to mindlessly consume time over. Yet, there you are – unreachable. I make my conversational power-blast moves trying to pry you open, yet on the other side of this door, there is no answer. Perhaps you’ve gone numb, or conceivably I’ve finally learned to move on without your secrets and let go of the string I once held tightly with the gritted fists I called “caring”. So there we sit with words between us: two strangers laughing over the cups of coffee we’ve ordered to fill up the time and space with meaning, as though, if the people around us are doing this, it must be normal. Someone failed to mention the silence in normal. No one shone the light onto the loneliness of company.
Oh well..
You crack your jokes about some late-night television interview you heard, and I paint a political map in your mind tracing back the latest news from the White House and regurgitating headlines from MSNBC. We’re used to this. It’s comfortable here. I give you my trusting hand; you give me your insecure hand. And like this, for many hours of countless nights, we tango something more bitter than sweet. The romance of our friendship has faded and our time together tastes like day-old coffee. We drink it nonetheless because we’re dependent upon our caffeine fix, but it tastes like shit, no matter what your attempt to revive the black, muddy concoction. It goes down like sludge, but it  seems to get you through the day.

Ten things I love about us.

10. i love the way your eyes shimmer when you’re really happy. i’ve never been able to see it up close but i know what you’re thinking and i’m hoping its of me.  09. i love the way we always seem to be able to read eachothers minds. we have the same likes and dislikes and thoughts thats revolve around eachother. i love the way i can be myself without worrying about losing you. 08. i love the way you make me feel good about myself without even having to speak. you say it best when you say nothing at all. 07. i love how we can smile and just know that it means we care and that it makes us happy. 06. i love being able to tell you anything without having to worry about what you will think or say. i loved it when i told you about how sometimes i wanted to die, and how you said i should just do it, knowing i wouldnt even try it in the first place. 05. i love the way you speak to me. like i’m the most important person in the world. i love how you seem to never be able to get enough of me; how when i wish on 11:11 i don’t have to wish for happiness anymore. i guess wishes do eventually come true. 04. i loved the way you would tell me about your cat. “the dick named mickey” 03. i love how my stomach flutters, waiting for you to talk to me. it sucks, but it lets me know that this is real. i love how you feel the same. 02. i love how you always tell me how i make you feel. how i solve your problems and how you can’t wait to see me. i loved the way you said things. especially the really cheesey things. it’s really corny, but i love it. 01. and last, but defintely not least, i love the way you already know this, but you still had to hear me say it.

 

Well Shit.

Today my mother and I got into an arguement. What’s new..
Anyway, she decided to cross the line and abuse my stuff. I.e. my precious phone. Its become even more awesome since my cousin jailbroke it. It’s been unbelievably efficient now!
But that’s beyond the point. She decided, in her fit of pissy rage, to throw my phone over the balcony in our house, straight down to the new hardwood flooring. Thank god there’s no damage to the floor or I’m positive I’d hear about it from my dad. But my phone. The entire back cover is not just scratched or cracked, but completely splintered from corner to corner.
To make it all better, she, out of the kindness of her heart, reminded me that I have to pay for a whole new one by myself because I “was the one who started the fight”. Oh Please.
I don’t have any extra money to fuck with these days. My budget is a little like this: Car insurance, phone bill, Lilly’s needs, partial to seans present/ new car for me.
So there is nowhere specified to a new back cover for me 😡
So stupid.

I despise family sometimes. My god can they bring out the worst.

The New Year.

I have had such a shitty start to my new year. But there’s things that keep my mind off of the failures. Like my daughter, and how big she’s getting so quickly. We’re almost to a year old 🙂 My internship with the school has been confirmed, and I’m closer to finishing school that much more. Not to admit that this internship is paid! Can finally drop my shit job at fast food. I’m still keeping the hotel job as an option.
With every year that passes, I can’t help to feel that much lonlier. Especially with this recent loss. A few people say it will heal itself over time. I don’t really want to inquire if they’re right.
My Christmas with the family meant so much this year. Sure, we didn’t have all the new things like we used to, but we got some fun things. The Kinect for Xbox was worth getting for my brother 🙂 He can’t wait for the Star Wars game to come out so he can “become a true Jedi”.
Theres some things I wish I would’ve said to some people before the new year, wish I would’ve spent more time with this person and that. But I can’t regret. Plus, I’m happy where I’m at. The only thing I’d change is location. I need a one-way ticket out of her. My hometown has too many bad memories now.

I didn’t even bother with a New Years Resolution. I know I should attempt to lose weight. That’a always going to be a part of it. I was thinking of it being the fact that I need to save up some money. Boy’s present has not helped my wallet at all. But it will be worth the surprise 🙂
I’m worried about a close friend. He’s my brother’s best friend. And I received news this past week that he will be shipped back overseas. He said it’s for the good of his future. I’m not so sure. He had so many close calls last year when he was there. But I’ve never met someone so dedicated to our country.

As for the New Year, I truly hope yours has started off much better than mine. And as a word of advice I’ve learned. Don’t trust those as much as you thought you did.

So Change.

Stop. Stand there. Don’t come any closer.
Listen now. Carefully. To me.

Leave me alone, stay away
Understand that I like it that way
Don’t ask me any questions
and I’ll tell you no lies
Am I feeling alright? the answer’s in the eyes
If tears are falling then no, I’m not
Why bother asking? you don’t care a lot
Whether I’m happy or whether I’m sad
Don’t ask for the sake of it, It just makes me mad
Sitting in the classroom and you’re not working
Don’t copy off me becuase you’ve been shirking
Don’t treat me like dirt because I’m different from you
What’s so funny about me feeling blue?
There comes a hot feeling behind my eyes
And you’ll never never know but you’ve made me cry
I want to SCREAM and SCREAM and SCREAM
But you’ll laugh, “It’s a joke, it’s a game, chill out!”
Why should I? WHY SHOULD I?I want to shout
Tell you to shut up!

But I don’t.

I wipe my eyes, I look at you and smile, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But It feels like you’re telling me with every thing you do,

This is how everyone should be.

This is how you should be.

So Change

Long day.

So you’re sitting in the middle of a pile of shit. And you’re the only fly in the whole bunch that can see right into the shit. The rest just like to paddle along on the outskirts, picking the right place and the right time, while you go ahead like a fucking rocket. You rip that pile of shit wide open and jump in. Let’s say you’re alone in an alley, and you bend over and cry. Do you think anyone wonders if there’s a random crying entity in that same alley? Or do you think that all the worker bees just keep buzzing by, leaving you alone in a hive of your own design? What if the world caught fire and you were the only fireman? Do you think you’d even give or shit, or would you watch it burn. Burn down to the ground in a calamity process. Calamity and ashes and burning all coming down a hill of twisted humor.

What if you were a tree and you saw the fire raging, tumultuous gases and hurtling sparks growing ever nearer, threatening to burn you to a crispy pile of crap. Would you want the fireman to put out the fire? What if there wasn’t really a fire but a growing mass of orange water, coming to drown you, like some crazed giant spilling Slice all over the earth? Fuck man, it makes you wonder, it really does. It makes you wonder if you could put out a microscopic fire with your drool alone or toss a rock into a black hole and get hit with it in the back of the head.

Where do all the eraser shavings that fall from desks of students worldwide end up? Do you think there’s an alien race specifically designated to scrounging up our eraser shavings? Maybe there’s a huge intergalactic dump in the middle of space, specifically catering to discarded eraser shavings. Maybe Father Time is really up there laughing his elderly ass off at all the little squabbling insect humanoids scouring the earth for answers that were never there to begin with. Because man creates a question does it mean there must be an answer? Or is it only an illusion? Fuck the wise, they’re just blinder than the rest of us when you look at the fact that the wise can only recall the ancient sayings of the past.

Make your own fucking sayings for fucks sake, and leave me alone with your petty bullshit and gasps at the utterance of a specific blasphemy. Or is the god I laugh at really up there, shaking his head in disapproval? Does it make a difference if you have 100 pennies or 4 quarters? And why is it that 4 quarters still seems like more money when stacked up on a scale of only words? Plaintiff for the case, you’re called to the front to explain why it is billions of dollars go into bombing helpless humans and less and less into anything worthwhile. America, war is knocking on your door and asking for it’s motives, ideals and methods back, because obviously you can’t handle them on your own.

Abusing the power, that’s the idea. Abusing the minds of the inhabitants. Like your stuck in a prison of parrots, each repeating what they’ve only heard before, never staking claim to a piece of their own intelligence. Only shards of other intelligence, or so called intelligence, a nihilistic point of view that has transcended so many different forms and ideas it’s become accepted as an every day process.

It’s okay if a few hundred pygmy shrews die, because pygmy shrews don’t understand their own pain. And besides, it’s all a helpful way to advance human knowledge. I wonder how much of that knowledge is even knowledge and not blind speculation, a stab in the dark. Instead why don’t we all just stab out our eyes? Maybe our vision would then clear. Maybe the color of skin would no longer be relevant. But then what would we do, segregate our accents? Our tone of voice? The distance we stand away from each other? I bet we’d still find a way to kill each other, even with our eyes gouged out.

I bet the only way to save us truly is to throw all of our brains into a mush machine and die of dehydration, drooling ourselves to a death less pleasant then we’d have hoped for. Will we still bury our dead when we’ve run out of ground to bury them in side by side? Perhaps we’ll begin stacking them. We’ll call it “Convenience, in a Coffin”, a new way to stack dead, like they do at a morgue, a mortuary where bodies are kept in drawers. Maybe we’d all be better off as John or Jane Does, with little “unidentified” tags tied so tight to our toes the cells degenerate around them.

Maybe we’d all be better off in giant containers without labels, forever floating sedated, in formaldehyde, with blank eyes, now clouded over and scarred with strips of white skin. Maybe others like us will shake our bottles and we’ll fall apart. Or maybe this ramble will first.