glnextdoor

[glnextdoor]

If someone makes another fucking noise I am going to snap. (I have my glasses on and four people are talking simultaneously really loudly at 9:30 in the morning.)

[glnextdoor]

SOMEONE GIVE ME A GODDAMN JOINT RIGHT FUCKING NOW

[glnextdoor]

Warning Signs; I’m Getting Bad Again

Early this morning it was excruciatingly difficult to do a simple mundane task like getting out of bed. My head started feeling fuzzy again and there I was, seeing myself get in the car and stare at the opossum we were about to run over because it froze and plopped to the ground before impact. We aren’t that different, we often freeze and play dead to a threat so much so that it feels like our normal, but the difference is it actually is dead now. I shift back into focus before passing out on the church bench. I drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the mass before having a mini stroke again. Terrifying, not at the haziness, numbness, or that I couldn’t hear myself speak or understand the words I was trying to form, that I might embarrass my dad my having another episode. Panic sets in, “He wants to kill us.” I think outside my body as I see myself running out of the church to sit and shake myself into focus, trying to will the stroke away. They’re called warning signs, but ignoring them makes you feel normal. One day, once you ignore enough you’ll end up like that opossum, dead.

[glnextdoor]

My dad banned me from reading literature

Humbling and humiliating 

My wound had existed before conceiving me; I was born to embody it. To be made out of flesh is a humiliation, for no daughter will be enough to compensate the high price of being alone. It is frustrating to acknowledge that I should not fault people for it is in our nature to not know anything. Our perception cannot even be measured in accuracy. We were born to be alone, to not understand one another, to make assumptions. I don’t feel lonely when being alone, just humbled. I wish people would understand or not at all. I wish to be seen and understood. To feel anything deranges me, to be seen feeling anything strips me naked. My being is misinterpreted by everyone, even my silence, and especially my perception. To be me is swallowing all the words I wish to speak. I am forced to abstain when all I wish to do is devour sounding minds of the past who can entertain me with the concepts which I can think about, the only thing that I know surely exists. Complex literates do not overwhelm me nor do they turn me unamused. Just because what others perceive as the truth does not in turn change my reality.

[glnextdoor]

Always proceed with caution.

[glnextdoor]

Cravings

It's intimacy that I crave the most. Intimacy in the most unusual of places that I yearn for. I want to see his bare shoulders as he steps out of the shower, asking me to pass him a towel. If to be loved is to be seen, I want to see all of him. I want to see him when he has drool on his face, see him get cut off in traffic, watch him take his frustration out on a textbook. See him sickly with an ailment, talking in his sleep, or even exhausted from a long day of work. I want to buy groceries together: orange juice, eggs, carrots. Do not be so blind, for none of this is of the mundane. Not when it's with him. Buying toothbrushes together in complementary colors and they will sit together in our bathroom. For the first time in a long while, I want, I need. I've abstained for years, now I wish to feast. Everything feels alright.

[glnextdoor]

Do I look like your girlfriend?

[glnextdoor]

give me my wigs back you pig, you swine.

You are a spineless little worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk, a cad, a weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a stench, a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.

You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth into this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody, abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done.

I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformation. I barf at the very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention you smell?

[glnextdoor]

I wish I would’ve been a crack whore.

I mean, I don’t really, but I guess it easier (subjectively). I don’t see how I can possibly be okay in this life. I merely suffer, write, and survive (not in that particular order). I look in the mirror maybe 10 times a day? My nose frosted in white. Don’t worry mama, it’s not cocaine, just setting powder (not that you wouldn’t think that, that too is sinful). Tap, tap, tap! Perfection? No you fool! Just disguising the threat of my presence from you. I don’t like cocaine, it doesn’t last long enough for me to hide behind it. The setting powder however, will only leave when I want it to. The cocaine is easier, for it forces me to confrontation, pleasure, or death (whichever comes first). I should have been a crack whore, not a liar, I hate liars.